#full on chest pain from laughter

[shegoesbyjoy]

in honor of the new breaking news season on dropout, i present to you...

breaking news screenshots without context

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

BLOODTHIRSTY

PAIRING: logan howlett x vampire mutant!female reader

RATING: mature | WORD COUNT: 990

SUMMARY

when your next shipment of blood won’t be delivered to the x mansion for another two days, logan offers to help keep you fed.

part two, animal instinct

WARNINGS/TAGS

typical vampire themes (blood, biting), no use of y/n, reader being picked up, grinding, kissing

LINKS

masterlists | support for palestine

You're pacing the length of the kitchen, filled with anxious energy. There's a pit in your stomach, a gnawing pain that's keeping you awake and lying in your bed, staring at the ceiling wasn't helping.

You hear footsteps in the hall and pause, watching as the thick wooden door opens and Logan steps into the kitchen, flicking the light switch and bathing the room in brightness that hurts your eyes. He raises an eyebrow when he sees you.

"Can't sleep either?" he asks, sauntering further into the room. He's fully dressed, a tight white t-shirt stretching across his defined chest and biceps and a pair of jeans hugging his legs, covering boots that click against the tile with each step. Your eyes are immediately drawn to his neck, to the thin skin that covers his fluttering pulse, but you look away quickly in shame.

"Too hungry," you reply. He looks around the room.

"Well, you're in the right place for eating. There's plenty of food."

"Not the kind I need."

He tilts his head, assessing you. "You some kind of vampire or something?"

"Or something," you reply, dancing around the truth. You're not sure what you are, not exactly, but Charles has helped you unlock enough information to get by. "Anyway, Charles said the next shipment should be here in a couple days. I just have to make it until then."

"I could help you out," Logan suggests. You raise your eyebrows at him.

"Absolutely not," you snap. You move to leave, walking past him, but he wraps a hand around your arm to stop you.

"Why not? You can't kill me. You won't even leave a mark."

"You don't know what you're offering, Logan."

"I got a pretty good idea," he says with a huff of laughter. "You're a predator. I know what it's like to suppress that side of yourself."

You don't know much about Logan. He hasn't been at the X Mansion for very long, but he's made quite the impression among the staff. You can see why -- he's charming, handsome, rough around the edges. You know of his abilities but you don't know him, not really, and the fact that he's offering himself for your hunger is planting nasty seeds of suspicion in your brain.

"I can't," you whisper. He steps closer.

"Why not? Afraid you'll get addicted, sweetheart?"

He's goading you, tempting you. Your gums ache with the need to bite, to feed, to fill yourself full and find sweet relief from the pain of hunger. He pulls you closer and your treacherous body obeys, ignoring the warnings from your logical brain.

"Come on," he says. "You'll feel better."

It's been a long time since you've fed from a living person, having grown so used to the donor blood Charles is able to obtain for you through various channels, but the muscle memory is there.

You're chest to chest with Logan now, pressed so tightly to him that you can feel his heart pounding against you, can hear the rush of blood in his veins. He smells like the woods and smoke, an earthy combination that makes you a little lightheaded. He wraps an arm around your waist.

"You want it?" he asks. You nod. "Do it, then. I've got you."

You're helpless to it now, nothing in your mind except survival instinct demanding to be fulfilled. The prick of pain as your mouth grows crowded with longer, sharper teeth meant to tear and ravage and maim. You lean into him, running your lips against warm skin and relishing in the sharp breath he takes at the contact.

Like any predator, you give no warning, sinking your teeth into his flesh. Blood rushes over your tongue, warm and lush, invading your senses. His heavy palm settles on the back of your neck, cradling you to him, and the intimacy of it pulls a moan from deep in your chest.

"Fuck," Logan growls, his other hand tight on your hip. You lift your head to ask if he's okay, but the words are lost when he bends his knees and grabs the back of your thighs with both hands, urging you up. He settles you on the counter, fitting himself between your spread legs.

"Again," he demands, eyes wild and teeth bared in a snarl. You switch to the other side of his neck, biting down hard. He moans, loud and deep, hips flexing into yours. You can feel the hard length of his cock through his jeans and the friction against your core makes you whine and writhe against him.

You drag yourself away from him, licking your lips. His pupils are blown wide, the black of them nearly engulfing the gorgeous hazel of his irises. His gaze drops to your lips and he leans in, kissing you like a hungry animal, trying to devour you in turn.

He pulls away from you, begins to trail kisses down your jaw to your neck. You grow tense, the sudden realization that Logan's favor has devolved into something more hitting you like a ton of bricks.

You push him away by the shoulder and he stares at you with a furrowed brow, confusion coloring his features. His chest heaves with breath and his mouth is stained red, lips kiss bitten and slick. The wounds you would have left behind have already closed, leaving no trace of you on his skin. You swallow around the lump in your throat.

"Thank you, Logan," you whisper. You ease yourself down from the counter, the man stepping back slightly to give you space. "Goodnight."

He clears his throat. "Right. Hope you can sleep now."

"I hope you can, too."

You leave the kitchen, the weight of his stare on your back not lifting until you're in the hall and can take a deep breath. When you return to your room, you still can't sleep.

But it's no longer because of hunger.

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or commenting, I’d love to hear from you 💕

Divider by @/saradika-graphics

All masterlists

Logan Howlett masterlist

[cntloup]

Happiness

"Hey! What are you doing?!" he nearly shouts as he quickly rushes to take the bags of groceries from you.

You're eight months pregnant and your husband has been immensely loving, helpful and considerate, but safe to say overbearing at times.

"I just wanted to help." you say sheepishly, a slight pout forming on your lips.

"I've got it." he says, tone harsher than he intended as he grabs the bags without even looking at you, then leaves, thinking nothing of it.

You stomp your feet to the bedroom, well, as well as you can in your state and slam the door behind you.

He's startled at the sound and it dawns on him just now what he has done, "Fuckin' hell." he grumbles under his breath.

He finds you lying down on the bed and walks over to sit beside you.

"I'm sorry, love. I shouldn't have talked to you that way." he apologizes in a much softer voice.

He places one hand on your waist and the other on your belly, tenderly rubbing soothing circles only for you to pull away and turn your back to him.

His heart shatters in his chest as he stares at you with desperate, apologetic eyes.

And shortly after, he hears the soft sound of your sniffles.

He shuffles on the bed to get closer to you, lightly touching your arm, "Love?" he beckons softly, eyebrows furrowed as he feels truly concerned now.

"Please, lovie. Talk to me." he pleads, fingers gently brushing against your bare arm.

Your hiccupped cry gets louder by the second until you’re full on sobbing as you curl into yourself.

"Fuck! I'm so sorry, love." he apologizes again, feeling more and more desperate and helpless.

He lies down behind you and pulls you closer to him by the waist and his hand rests on your belly.

He murmurs 'I'm sorry' and 'I love you' into your hair over and over again, not really knowing what else to do in order to calm you down.

Until suddenly he hears your burst of giggles, not sure if he heard correctly.

"It tickles!" you giggle again as his breath tickles your neck.

He slightly shifts in his place, supporting his weight on his arm and lifting himself up to look at you in surprise of the sudden change in your mood.

You turn your head to look back at him with a lovely smile, making his breath hitch in his throat.

"Yeah?" a mischievous smile forms on his face and his hands move to your sides.

And before you can react, he's tickling you mercilessly.

"Siii!" you whine in between uncontrollable laughter and thrashing your arms around trying to stop him from his brutal tickle attacks as he smirks and laughs at your attempts, enjoying this way more than he should.

Until all of a sudden a loud drawn-out gasp leaves your mouth and he immediately stops, "Fuck! Are you ok? Did I hurt you?" he asks in deep concern as his eyes stir around, looking for any sign of damage.

You just take his hand and place it on your belly with no words and at first, he looks confused, but quickly realizes what you meant, his eyes lighting up as he feels your baby's kicks against his palm.

He feels tears prickle the corner of his eyes and can't help but kiss you with such flaming love and fierce devotion that he feels for both of you.

And you spend the rest of the day in each other's arms, feeling your baby's kicks with pure happiness in your hearts and he soothingly rubs your belly and kisses you when you whine in pain.

[fastandcarlos]

The Perfect Ride : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: you can't help but wonder what you were thinking putting heels on, but as the pain nags away at you, luckily you've got lando there to offer his services

Lando struggled to hold back his laughter as he glanced back again, watching as you tentatively walked, holding onto anything around you for support. In theory, wearing heels to dinner at his parents was a great idea, but now you were suffering and walking each step full of regret. 

“Please tell me we’ve not got that much longer to go,” you sighed as Lando walked towards you and closed the distance between you both. “I can’t believe you let me leave the house in heels.” 

Finally a chuckle escaped from Lando, having asked you several times before you left the house whether you were sure you wanted to wear them. You were confident that things would be fine, brushing Lando aside despite how vocal he was with his concerns for you. 

“I told you so,” he shrugged, allowing you to rest your hand against his shoulder to steady yourself. “I was serious when I said you should’ve left the house in your crocs.” 

“Sure, I’m your parents would’ve loved me showing up in my crocs, are you actually insane Lan?” 

With Lando holding onto you, you started walking again, wincing every single time your foot hit the floor. You were keen to make a good impression, having only met Lando’s parents a handful of times, but now you knew that impressing them was not as important as being comfortable. 

Lando’s arm snaked around your waist as he walked at your pace, encouraging you to keep moving, trying his best to distract you from the pain in your feet. 

“Sorry that I’m taking so long,” you told Lando, glancing across and meeting his eyes. “We probably could’ve been home by now if I wasn’t wearing these stupid things. This is ridiculous.” 

Lando offered you a sympathetic smile, “it’s pretty nice weather tonight, I’m quite happy being out here and admiring the beautiful sunset, I don’t mind.” 

“Nice try trying to make me feel a little less guilty.” 

“I’m being serious,” Lando tried his best to assure you, “when was the last time we got to take a slow walk and just soak in our surroundings for a little while?” 

You stopped again, letting go of a deep breath. “It would be nice to be able to do that without feeling like I want to get a saw and chop both of my feet off.” 

Your confession had Lando giggling, as much as he sympathised with how you were feeling, he was struggling to keep himself composed and supportive amongst all of your dramatics.  

Despite how nice you wanted to look, Lando never wanted you to make the effort at a cost. He didn’t want you to feel like you had to suffer just for him, to look good for him, he wouldn’t have cared if you showed up in your pyjamas, just having you there with his family was more than enough for him.  

“We might still be here to see the sunrise too if we carry on like this,” Lando smiled, trying his best to bring a smile back to your face. 

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re starting to enjoy this?” You challenged, narrowing your eyes in Lando’s direction. “I might just bin them and walk bare foot for the rest of the way home instead.” 

Lando’s head shook, picking you up as soon as you bent down to undo the buckle of your shoe. “You can’t do that, it’s not safe baby. I’ve got a different idea that might be able to solve your problem though?” 

You watched as Lando stood in front of you, tapping against his back, inviting you to jump up. “Are you being serious?” You laughed, watching as he looked over his shoulder at you, nodding his head. “You think you can piggyback me home?” 

“I do actually want to get home at some point tonight.” 

Lando tapped his back again, feeling your hands hold onto his shoulders. You counted down before jumping up, wrapping your legs around his waist, feeling his hands go underneath your knees to lift you up and keep you secure as your arms draped in front of Lando’s chest. 

“See,” he smiled, immediately starting to walk with you comfortably resting against him. “It doesn’t even feel like I’m carrying anything on my back you’re so light.” 

“You are such a liar Lando Norris.” 

“I’m serious,” he chuckled, walking at a much quicker pace than he had done whilst you were on your feet too. “All you need to do is relax and enjoy the ride and let me worry about making sure you get home in one piece tonight.” 

Your head nodded as you took a look around the street, figuring out whereabouts you were. “Have I ever told you how much of a hero you are? Always saving the day for me.” 

“That’s just what boyfriends are for, right?” Lando laughed in response. 

Sure, in a relationship you were supposed to be looked after, but Lando always seemed to find a way to go above and beyond. If you were ever stuck, he was always there to help you with the right answer to fix things.  

Your smile was wide as Lando continued walking, it was surprisingly comfortable up on his back, making the most of not having to worry about the ache in your feet for a little while. 

“I hope you know how important you are to receive treatment like this, I don’t offer a piggyback to anyone you know,” Lando smirked, breaking the silence between you both. 

You hummed back at him, finding yourself beginning to get sleepy. Lando could feel your head beginning to weigh down on top of his own, hearing your breaths get a little heavier as you struggled to keep your eyes open. A smile crept onto Lando’s face, relieved to feel and hear how comfortable you were. 

“Don’t be falling asleep on me up there,” he teased, “I can’t walk the rest of the way home talking to myself, people will think I’m weird if they hear that.” 

“I’m awake, I promise,” you assured him, fighting the urge to close your eyes, trying your best to focus on something to stay awake. 

Lando glanced up questionably back at you, knowing it was only a matter of time before he would hear you falling asleep, knowing when he got home it would be his job to get you tucked into bed and try not to wake you up.  

“Are we almost home?” You asked Lando, not quite sure how much longer you could hold on for, feeling sleep getting closer with every second that passed. 

“Don’t worry about that, close your eyes if you want to love,” Lando smiled, “I don’t mind if you do, I’ll just sing to myself for the rest of the way home. 

You nodded in reply to Lando, “thank you for always being there for me and helping me, I really do appreciate it Lando.” 

“I know you do,” Lando whispered, “but you never have to thank me, I love being the one that gets to take care of you.” 

“And you do such a good job of it too.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[zippidi-dooda]

In the early stages of going over to meet Bakugou's parents you were visibly uncomfortable, nervous, and always coming up with an excuse to postpone the visits.

Your heart was beating in your chest, hands clammy, eyes almost watery. And even though they were endlessly nice and welcoming towards you, something wouldn't let you shake the fear of being around them and you barely uttered a word, the rides home going with complete silence between you and him.

Bakugou of course had noticed and tried asking you about it, but then you'd feel that lump in your throat, not wanting to explain why you were always so anxious when it came to his parents since you didn't even know the reason yourself, you'd quickly change the subject or use any excuse to leave the room.

The avoidance irked him beyond belief, he wanted to snap and ask his questions straight out ... but he didn't want to run the risk of you crying. So, he sends a text explaining the situation to his parents and asks for advice, how should he approach this?

And the next time you visit, he and his father conveniently have to run out for an errand. You of course rushed to offer to go with them, you couldn't bear the idea of being in Bakugou's home without Bakugou, but they refused saying it'd be rude to make the guest do things for them. So, you were stuck. Alone. With Bakugou's mother sitting on the couch right across from you ....

You look down at your sweaty palms clutching your pants, head racing and praying to God she wouldn't want to talk.

And to your relief, she leaves the room.

Ahh ... you'll live to see another day.

Clink!

You look up slightly to see a plate full of steaming cookies on the coffee table in front of you.

Then you feel the cushion sink next to you and a caramelized floral scent envelops you.

"Glad we got rid of 'em! That boy would have a fit if I showed you these with him around."

Mitsuki was sitting right next to you.

"Well? Go on, grab some, it's rude not to try your host's treats. Brat doesn't like sweets, but these are Katsuki's favorites, I'll give you the recipe later." She winks.

You were dazed for a moment before grabbing one out of fear politeness.

The older lady crosses her legs, opening a thick album you hadn't noticed she'd been carrying and points towards a photo in the bottom right.

"This here is from when we got to bring Katsuki home for the first time. I knew then and there he'd be a pain in my ass. Ugly thing isn't he?"

... what a way to talk about your child.

You lean over a bit to take a look. And a smile makes it's way across your lips. He wasn't the prettiest thing, no, but since you loved him you couldn't help feeling happy at the sight.

She points to another one, "This here is when I caught him getting into my makeup. Masaru had taken the picture since he wasn't paying attention then showed it to me. Nearly chased him down the block when I saw it. Little Bastard was always getting into everything he shouldn't have."

You chuckled through your nose, finally taking a bite of the cookie.

It tasted amazing.

Mitsuki continued to flip through the album, telling you the stories that came with each photo, her way of storytelling garnering a bit a laughter from you and eventually you had your feet tucked on the couch and cheek resting on her shoulder simply listening to her talk. You hadn't even noticed it happen.

She didn't ask you questions about yourself, didn't point out your change in behavior, or even glance your way. It was almost as if you weren't even there. But, you were greatful for that. And she knew.

She had stood when she heard the front door beginning to open and looked at you, raising a finger to her lips, "don't tell Katsuki 'bout this, kay?"

You smiled and nodded, turning around to watch the pair as they walked in.

That was the first time you truly felt comfortable in the Bakugou household.

And you were soon looking forward to each visit, much to Katsuki's relief.

Well, it was relief at first when you were starting to converse and interact more, taking the time to get close to his mom and his dad and asking him about his family on your own.

But then he knew you were getting too close to his family, especially his mom, when you started sighing and asking questions like "Oh, what happened to the Katsuki who would sing just cause he felt like it" or saying things like "You know I think I'm happy I didn't meet you as a kid, we wouldn't have gotten along as well" or even pointing out toys to him like "look, it's just like the one you had as in the past, right?"

Then he knew exactly what made you open up to his family, "Hag's been showing you that damn album, hasn't she?"

And suddenly he didn't know if he should be mad or greatful towards his parents for coming up with their plan to help you grow comfortable around them.

[hoshifighting]

Seventeen reaction when something embarrassing happens during sex

a/n: just a heads-up; It's more common than you think

Warnings: this content contains mature themes and accidents during sexual situations.

Seungcheol

you’re in the middle of the sex, feeling seungcheol's strong body moving with yours, his hands gripping your hips tightly. everything is intense and passionate until you hear him moan, “seungkwan…”

you both freeze. the room goes silent except for your heavy breaths. you can't help it; laughter bursts out of you. the absurdity of the situation, combined with the tension, makes you laugh so hard your sides ache.

the fact that your boyfriend had spent the whole day fighting with seungkwan, perhaps made the boy's name spontaneously come out of his lips, without intention.

seungcheol’s face is buried in your chest, and you feel his shoulders shaking. he lifts his head, his eyes filled with embarrassment and a hint of laughter. “i’m so sorry,” he chuckles, almost crying from shame.

you kiss his forehead, still giggling. “it’s okay, babe. you’ve been scolding him all day. no wonder his name slipped out.”

Jeonghan

jeonghan is thrusting into you, both of you lost in the rhythm of his thrusts when suddenly he lets out a loud burp. the sound is so unexpected that he immediately slows down, a look of utter embarrassment on his face.

going on a date, and eating more than a plate of fried pork and large ass glasses of beer were definitely not the best meal before having sex.

he starts laughing, shyly apologizing, “sorry, baby, i’m so full.”

you bury your face in the sheets, chuckling at the situation. “next time, maybe less fried pork before bed?”

Joshua

you’re sucking joshua greedily, feeling his hands gripping your hair, his moans filling the room. suddenly, one of his moans turns into a funny squeak. you can’t help but smile around him, the sound is so random and endearing.

joshua’s face turns red, and he looks down at you with embarrassment. “i guess i'm doing a great job,” you tease, and he laughs, his head falling back against the pillow.

Junhui

junhui comes home late, exhausted but needing you. he kisses you deeply, pushing you onto the bed, but as you ride him, you notice his moans becoming quieter. when you open your eyes, you find him asleep, his eyes half-open but clearly out of it.

you scoff softly, sliding off him. you clean him up and tuck him in, a fond smile on your face. “we can continue this in the morning,” you whisper, kissing his forehead.

Soonyoung

hoshi’s enthusiasm is infectious, but you’ve told him several times to move to the center of the bed. he doesn’t listen, too caught up in his eagerness, until he loses his balance and falls off the border with a thud.

you gasp and rush to the side of the bed, finding him on the floor looking both dazed and sheepish. “i told you to move to the center,” you say, helping him back up.

he grins, rubbing the back of his head. “guess i was a bit too excited.”

Wonwoo

wonwoo’s glasses have been slipping, but he’s too focused on you to take them off. suddenly, they fall onto your face, startling both of you. he pauses, eyes wide in horror, then quickly puts them back on, looking at you with concern.

you burst out laughing, the absurdity too much to handle. his face scrunches in embarrassment, but he joins in your laughter, relieved that you’re not hurt.

Woozi

you’re riding woozi on his couch, driven by your fertile period一that didn't go easy on you, when he suddenly groans in pain. his leg stretches out in a funny way, and you realize he has a cramp.

“do you want me to stretch it for you?” you ask, giggling.

he nods, wincing. you gently help him extend his leg, massaging the cramp away. the scene gets funnier because you're both naked stretching in the middle of his studio. he sighs in relief, a sheepish smile on his face. “thanks, babe. i think we need a short break.”

Minghao

his thrusts are powerful, each one driving the headboard against the wall with a rhythmic thud. you both have your eyes closed, lost in the sensation, when suddenly the picture frame hanging above the bed crashes down, hitting the headboard and then you.

“ouch!” you yelp, more surprised than hurt.

minghao opens his eyes, alarmed. he sees you holding the picture frame, a laugh bubbling out of you. he can’t help but chuckle too, albeit with a sheepish look.

“sorry about that,” he murmurs, taking the frame from you and hanging it back on the wall. he moves you both to a less...impacting position, continuing more gently this time.

Mingyu 

mingyu's passionate thrusts have you both moving in perfect sync, until one particularly hard thrust sends your head banging against the wall with a loud thud.

you cover the top of your head, laughing despite the pain. “ouch, that one hurt!”

mingyu’s eyes go wide with worry, and before you know it, he’s running naked to the kitchen, ass, dick, balls, swaying as he runs. you laugh even harder at the sight. he returns with an ice pack, pressing it gently to your head, his face flushed with shame.

“i’m so sorry, babe,” he mumbles, his embarrassment spreading down his neck.

you kiss his cheek, still giggling. “it’s okay, mingyu. you running naked was worth it.”

Seokmin

you and seokmin love changing positions during sex, experimenting with the most unusual ones. tonight, however, is filled with accidents—your thighs bumping into each other, his cock slipping out.

after a particularly awkward attempt, he collapses back onto the bed, still giggling. “i don’t think that one’s gonna work.”

each time, you both burst into laughter, the errors becoming funnier. eventually, too tired to keep trying, you settle into classic missionary.

“guess this one’s a bit too advanced for us,” you say, still giggling.

seokmin laughs with you, nodding. “yeah, let’s stick to what we know works.” 

Seungkwan

with seungkwan, laughter is a constant companion, but during sex, it’s usually a more serious affair. tonight, though, as you move together, you lock eyes in complete silence, and suddenly both of you burst into laughter.

“we really can’t take anything seriously, can we?” he says, giggling uncontrollably.

Vernon

you nod, tears of laughter streaming down your face. “nope, we’re just two giggling bitches.”

vernon loves when you ride him, often begging you to go until he can’t feel his legs. tonight, you take that request seriously. when he tries to get up to change positions, his legs are completely numb.

“baby, i can’t feel my legs,” he says, his voice a mix of awe and amusement.

you laugh, shaking his legs gently to get the blood flowing again. “guess i went a little harder today. sorry, baby.”

he chuckles, leaning back and watching you with a grin. “no complaints here.”

Chan

you and chan decide to try something new, ending up on the sturdy dining table. or so you thought. just as things are heating up, the table gives way with a loud crack, sending you both sprawling.

chan grabs you quickly, preventing you from falling face-first. “are you okay?” he asks, his voice filled with concern.

you both stay silent for a moment, the shock wearing off, then burst into laughter, the silliness of the situation too much to handle. your belly hurts from laughing so hard, and chan’s infectious laugh makes it even better.

“guess we’ll need a new table,” he says, grinning.

you nod, still giggling. “and maybe stick to the bed next time.”

[pseudowho]

Hanahaki

Nanami art by Osusiudon, picture edit by @pseudowho

Being in love with you was meant to feel good...so why was it killing Nanami Kento?

For more on the (purely fictional) Hanahaki Disease, please see here: https://fanlore.org/wiki/Hanahaki_Disease

I've altered things *just a little* to suit the story

Warnings: 18+, gore, smut, MDNI, unrequited love, angst, longing, hurt/comfort, cum as cure, TW anxiety, depression and low self-esteem

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"You've got to tell her. Nanami. You've got to tell--"

"--and burden her with this? No. It's inexcusable. This is...this is mine to bear."

Shoko stabbed her cigarette out with considerable force, driven almost to tears by this--

"--impossible man, Nanami Kento. You have options. We can fix this surgically, it won't be easy, but it will get rid of--"

"--my feelings for her," Kento interrupted, his voice brackish with pain, twisting in his lungs, all gnarls and knots and need. He felt the pain beginning to crescendo, doubled over on Shoko's surgery couch. If he groaned, he knew he would be choked in blossoms and blood. A fine mist of sweat collected on Kento's forehead, one arm wrapped around his belly as his lungs began to fill and burn.

Shoko was already lighting another cigarette, hands trembling, and snipped at Kento; "And what of it? She doesn't love you back, that's why you're in this mess."

Hearing the truth aloud was too much to bear, and Kento writhed, one strong hand gripping his throat as he coughed, choking, lungs and throat so full and packed and itching and--

--in one burning gasp, a congealed spatter of cherry blossom leaves and clotting blood left Kento's mouth at force, slapping into the surgery couch and dripping, viscous and sloppy, to the floor. Kento staggered, one knee collapsing, clinging to the couch as he retched and coughed, bent in miserable agony.

Shoko dragged on her cigarette, her back to Nanami, voice tight as she spoke; "So...you mean to die like this, then?"

Head swimming with blinding pain, feeling his lungs begin to fill again, Kento closed his eyes, pressing his forehead to the couch.

All he saw was you. Your smile, effervescent with joy. Your small touches to his arms, all just tactile innocence. Your laughter, ringing down corridors as the students lolloped out of your classroom. He thought of you and all you were and all you could be, with or without him.

Kento smiled, a bloody kiss at the corner of his lips.

"There are worse ways to die."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Kento wasn't sure what was worse; the excruciating pain rooted in his chest, spreading longer and deeper through his torso with each passing day...or the certain knowledge that you were in love with someone else.

It was inevitable, of course; he was exciting, extroverted; Kento was dour and introspective. He was powerful, the strongest; Kento may never surpass 1st Grade, let alone achieve a domain. He would fawn, simper, flatter; Kento loved quietly.

Kento was tense in the staffroom, the petals building in his lungs so much faster when you were near. He needed to leave, needing to hide this from you, but he was twisted with the exquisite double-edged sword of the need to hear your laughter and the need to escape.

Satoru bent over beside you, whispering in your ear as you giggled, slapping him on the arm. Kento felt a nasty, burning envy as your eyes twinkled up at Gojo. He had not realised his eyes had strayed from his newspaper until you looked behind yourself, your cheeks flushing faintly as you felt Kento's gaze on you, of course I'm interrupting a private moment, idiot Kento you fucking idiot--

"Ken--...Nanami, are you alright? You look...pale." The genuine concern in your voice, the kindness you treated Kento with even though he was an insufferable bore, far too morose for pleasant company, made Kento stiffen, his chin jutted outwards.

Satoru looked disappointed as you turned from him, heading over to Kento, reaching out to put a hand to his forehead and shit, I'm done for if she lays a finger on me--

Kento flicked a hand upwards, batting you away as you reached for him, shoulders bunched with the urgency that you should never know about this, it's not her fault, she deserves to be happy--

"I am fine. I'm a grown man, I'd prefer not to be coddled." Kento felt his vision blacken at the edges with the need to cough, chest clawing, drowning, and he stood to the tune of your feet stepping quickly backwards, stumbling against the coffee table and I can't catch her because then I'd have to touch her hold her look at her and I'll die she'll never be mine god I want her to be mine I want her--

Satoru stepped behind you, long pale hands on your shoulders, stabilising you and shooting a scolding look at Kento's fast retreating shoulders. Your eyes were downcast, lips curled in and pressed together, hands clasped and twisting.

"Don't worry about it," Kento heard Satoru reassure you as he stepped out of the staffroom, "he's always been pretty standoffish, you did nothing wrong."

Kento made it to the end of the corridor before wrenching open a window, leaning out, coughing bursts of blood-spray-blossom. He blacked out for a moment as he leaned against the frame, scarlet and petals at the side of his mouth.

She doesn't deserve this she doesn't deserve any of this why are you like this why are you so fucking unlikeable Nanami you piece of--

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Kento wasn't sure when it started...this obsession. It wasn't like him, to become so hyperfixated.

Was it when you started teaching at the school? You had baked, keen to make a good first impression. You had taken particular notice of Kento, your keen eyes astute and reading him, laughing such genuine laughter, the. laughing harder at the surprise on Kento's face that you found his sardonic fatalism funny, but nobody finds that funny--

Was it the love, the protection, the fierce defending shield you offered the children? It was beautiful. Kento saw your rage and your sickened rants at the diseased establishment and god I could listen to her all day she's wonderful what a mind what passion she needs someone with the authority to make her vision bloom not some low-ranked cannon fodder destined to die in battle--

Was it when he and you fought together for the first time? It was so easy. You were smart, there was no ego, no competition, so seamless together and suddenly the work felt so light instead of the fucking drudgery I normally go through and we've even got time for me to take her out for dinner maybe I should ask her out to dinner maybe she'll say yes but it's too soon and she's just being friendly and she'd feel so obliged she deserves so much better she's a hidden gem I can't be the only one to have noticed--

Kento wasn't, of course. He just wished it wasn't Gojo, of all people, to have taken notice. As much as I can't stand the guy I know he wants life to be better for the kids too so of course you'd appreciate him and he's sweet with the kids too and no woman has ever said no to him and I lost my chance I should have asked her out when I had the chance I should have asked you fucking coward Nanami you jealous little bitch--

Satoru made short work of occupying your lunch breaks. He was effusive, open in his adoration. Not shy in declaring his enthusiasm for you. Kento saw you trying to battle an enormous bouquet into your car, and you caught his eye, blushing at having been caught, looking so awkward. You had laughed, eyes downcast again as Kento offered you a gentle smile. You shrugged at Kento, unsure what to say.

"I should tell him, don't you think?"

Kento felt his heart sink at your admission, it's only natural she should confess to Satoru when he's welcomed her in with open arms he's made himself pretty clear it makes it easier for her in fact and god I'd just be happy if she's happy really I just wish it was me instead and--

"Yes," Kento said, tight and clipped, missing the way your shoulders dropped in resignation, "it's best to be honest about these things. I find it's less stress on everyone if nobody misreads the situation."

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat; "Yeah. We wouldn't...wouldn't want that." Your hand hovered over your door as Kento turned his back on you and what we could have had and that's dead and buried now so just walk away and you can get over it Nanami it's not like you deserved that anyway--

"Have...have a good evening, Ke--...Nanami. Stay safe."

You too stay safe I love you I love you and I swear to god if he ever hurts you I'll rend him limb from limb I'll make him wish he'd never been bor--

"Good evening."

Walking away had gutted Kento alive.

First came the blood. Then came the petals.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Kento could not make his mission, the day after the staffroom. He could barely make it out of bed, waking, again, to petals and blood, rust-red and congealed all over his pillows. He changed the sheets again, gasping for air, passing out for a moment upon the mattress, with one hand in each corner of the sheets, exhausted.

This lovesickness, this diabolical sweet agony...was the best death Kento could possibly hope for. Sat on the shower floor, naked, chest heaving as the water tumbled over him, Kento scraped pink crumpled petals from the blocked shower drain as the water began to build up around him.

Lying on the sofa, in just his boxers, Kento shivered in pain. He could barely towel himself dry, and he knew he must stay this way, now, too weak to make it back to his room for clothes. Is today the day? Will they find me today? If I die god I haven't seen her I need to see her before I die even if she doesn't know I'd like to hear her laugh just one more--

The doorbell rang. Kento huffed, coughing a horrible clumped mess of petals and blood into an awaiting bowl. His breath caught, no oxygen making its way to his limbs and he folded like wet cardboard onto the sofa, gasping, fingers clawing at his chest.

A timid knock. A voice. The gentle swing of a hinge.

"Kento? I'm coming in. Ijichi gave me your spare-- oh my god-- Kento-- shit, I'm calling an ambulan--"

Kento reached towards the door as you ran to him, fuck Ijichi you had absolutely no right idiot now she knows she fucking knows--

Kento burned as you knelt by him, hands splayed across his chest, his back, eyes feverish as you stared at him. Stared at the bowl full of blood and--

"...blossom? Kento, is this-- what's happening to you? God, you need Shoko...Kento? Stay with me please, I can't lose you--"

"--it's none of your damn business, get your hands off me!"

Kento had snarled at you, face and hands contorted, clearly in agony. Your face crumpled, biting back a retort, keeping yourself calm despite the venom and gore spitting from him. You took a single deep breath, in...out.

"It is my business. I know you hate me. I know you can't stand me being near you, and I don't feel that way about you-- quite the opposite-- but it is my business when I find you dying alone at home, so if you can stop being such a stubborn prick for just five minutes, I can get you into the car and get you some help."

Kento was near tears, cornered, a feral, wounded animal. Hate you I don't hate you I just can't have your hands on me like this when it's all I'd ever get and I want to hold you day and night and--

"Fuck, you have no idea," Kento groaned, sniffing into his forearm, forehead pressed to the sofa. You blinked down at him once, then, face fixed firmly, you slung his arm over your shoulders, heaving him up.

"Nope. Probably not. But why would I? You don't tell me anything. And why should you?" You snipped, and Kento lurched against you, who somehow held him up against you despite his weight.

"Move. Now. I've got blankets in the car."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Kento lay alone, in his hospital bed, drifting in and out of consciousness. The gentle hiss of oxygen from his mask kept him company.

You had asked him in the car, so many times, who his unrequited love was. He was steadfast in his silent refusal. You had read of this sordid disease, but never seen it in person. And on Nanami Kento, of all people, any woman loved by him would surely leap at the chance, I mean I would, if only he didn't fucking hate me, I'm not good enough for him anyway--

"Who is it, Shoko?" You whispered, holding yourself by the elbows as you leaned against an examination table. Watching Kento fade away before you through the little window, filled you with a thousand slivers of ice. His visceral dislike for you, his urgent need to push you away...no. You could not allow yourself to love him as you might have done.

Shoko frowned at you, trying to read you. She looked through the window, too, tapping her fingers on a clipboard in thought.

"You have no idea, do you?" Shoko mused aloud, soft, almost wistful.

You felt bile rise in your throat; "I don't need that from you, too, that's what he said. You don't have to treat me like I'm some fucking idiot--"

"You."

You faltered, your hand slipping off the examination couch you leaned back against. You looked up at Shoko, jaw dropped.

"...I--I'm sorry, what did you--"

"--you. It's you. He loves you."

You burst out laughing, a single harsh sound.

"Shoko. He can't stand me. Any time I'm near him, he just--"

"He just what? He clams up? Shuts you out? Doesn't let himself get any closer?" You nodded slowly at Shoko, still dumbfounded.

Shoko continued; "Nanami isn't the kind of guy to put himself first. Especially now he knows how Gojo feels about y--"

"Gojo?" You cried, fingers pressed to your temples, trying to hold back tears, "All this time I've thought I'm not good enough for Nanami-fucking-Kento, and he's held himself back because he thinks I want Gojo?"

Shoko paused, halfway to lighting her cigarette, drooping as her mouth dropped open. She looked to Kento, and back at you. Shoko pushed the cigarette back into its packet, tapping the box briskly on the table.

"You've got one chance to tell him," she snipped, "before I knock him out and take him for surgery."

Shoko moved to step out of the room, as you felt hope squirm in your belly. She gripped the doorframe as she moved to step out, white knuckled, not looking back at you.

"It won't go away until--...well. You do have to love him. Biblically."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

You would wait until you had dropped him into bed, you thought, hands tense on the steering wheel. You were lying to yourself, you knew, your admission ready to burst out of you in furious blooms.

Kento was silent beside you, coughing occasionally into a handkerchief, less and less stained with blood and blossoms now. He was ashamed of himself for looking so pathetic and at least I can just die at home in peace now.

It took everything you had to keep your eyes ahead, instead of on him, still dressed in nothing but boxers and a blanket. You swallowed thickly.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine." Terse, cold. You felt irritation bubble in your chest.

"Stop lying, Kento." He tensed beside you, at his name on your lips, so sweet, I could listen to it all night, I wonder what she'd sound like when she's calling it out around me--

Huffing, he turned to look out the window, "A little better. It's none of your concer--"

"I love you." Kento felt himself shoot through with warmth. The cloying petals in his chest began to shrivel. He was speechless, dark-circled eyes wide as he turned to stare at you. Your hands trembled, turning into the driveway, pulling the handbrake, switching off the engine.

"I always have. From the moment I met you, I knew. But you knew better apparently and you pushed me away and now you're so sick and I--I--"

You sniffled once, steeling yourself before stepping out of the car and round to Kento's door, opening it. You reached in, arms round Kento's chest and heaving him up, amazed at how strong you could be for him when he needed you. Kento did not fight. He remained placid, mussed, still smelling bed-soft and coppery as you moved him towards his door, unlocking it and taking him inside.

Kento had never felt so stupid. So ashamed. So unworthy. He had done this to himself, and for what? He replayed months and months of him and you, flashing like reels through his mind's eye, reframing all of your interactions, your discomfort with Gojo's advances, your pain at Kento's biting distance, you fucking idiot Kento this is all your fault like all the people you lose are your own fucking fault--

Kento felt himself dropped into bed, with no memory of the journey from doorway to bedroom. He looked up at you, truly looking at you for the first time in months, drinking in the soft acceptance in your eyes, how his pain mirrored in yours exactly.

You blinked first, a few tears slipping out as you stepped away, opening Kento's wardrobe and pulling out a shirt. Kento gulped, turning his head on the pillow as you began to undress.

"--don't do this just for me, you shouldn't feel obliged to stay--"

"Shut up. Idiot. You stupid, stupid man. I'm livid at you and I can do what I want, and you should shut up and do as you're told for once."

You could have insulted Kento until the moon waxed and waned a dozen times, and it would still have felt like falling into a bed of feathers, hearing nothing but I love you, Kento I love you, I always did, I love you Kento--

Kento's breath caught in his chest, still painful, but somehow easing, as he felt your weight settle into bed next to him. He tensed again, frozen to your warmth, for having held you at arms length for so long. You rolled, switching the lamp off. You faced him, in the dark. You could hear only the light rattling of his chest.

"Just let me stay. I...need to keep you safe. Even if I just watch you sleep."

Kento's face crumpled, teeth bared and gritted as he pulled a hand over his eyes. Gratefulness and relief stole away his voice. Quiet, nestled together in the dark, you heard the gentle susurrus of a hand sliding across the sheets. You jumped to feel the back of Kento's fingers brush across your belly, graze over your chest and down your arm, until your hand was plaited with his.

"Do you...do you mean it?" You pressed your eyes closed, so fragile from the weight of the day's admissions and revelations. Biting your lips with tears on your lash line, you nodded, Kento squeezing your hand, focused on your silhouette.

You remembered meeting Kento for the first time, the beautiful rush of gold in your vision, as you panned past his introversion and discovered treasure. You remembered reading his every move, the uncertainty of each other, the timid dance. You saw the questions in his eyes, never asked. You remembered his seeping coldness after the force of Gojo's overbearing affection. You remembered the distance, the sniping hatred-- only, it wasn't. It wasn't ever hatred. Just grief. Loneliness. Worthlessness.

Kento could only hold back his wretched coughing for so long, and you watched in horror as he forced himself onto all fours, back and chest rippling in agony as a burst of blossoms sputtered past his lips...only, less bloody now. Almost as if he was getting better but not quite--

Shoko's words came back to you, a ghost; "...you do have to love him. Biblically." You felt yourself shiver from shoulders to toes as you thought of Kento this way, taking you. All those nights, where you had tried to think of anyone but him, biting into the pillow as you fingers slid, wet and practiced, over your aching little bud. Only, for his voice, thoughts of him inside you, rooting through you, taking you over the edge into sweet oblivion...every time.

Loving him had become so involuntary, you thought, as he slumped into your arms, blond hair splayed across pink blossoms in the moonlight, exhausted. Despite his suffering, he looked ethereal like this, arm splayed above his downy soft hair, eyes feverish in the gloom. You felt this obsession grow, no longer pruned and restrained, now that you felt his urgent need for you.

Quaking, you lay yourself beside Kento, drawing your leg over him so your soft inner thigh rested on his groin. You felt him twitch, a little closeness only making his pain worse, the full weight of a fertile Spring wracking his lungs. Your fingertips grazed over his belly, and you felt him shudder beneath you.

"What--" Kento rasped, swallowing back the thick taste of blood, "...what are you...?" He stopped as you shushed him gently, one hand rested on his thick chest as you nosed the side of his neck, the shell of his ear.

"Let me help you." You felt Kento tremble beneath you, his hand coming up to clasp your thigh tighter over his groin. Kento overrode his desperation, shaking his head with a gulp, feeling pathetic and weak and she deserves so much better and--

"Not like this," he choked out, his chest heavy and cloying, "you deserve--"

"We've already wasted so much time, convinced we weren't good enough for each other. I deserve a life with you. And we can't do that if you're dead."

Kento broke, lost in the ecstasy of your soft kisses against his jaw, tongue flicking out to taste the soft sweat tang of him. Your fingers rose up to cup his face, turning him to you. The total certainty in your eyes as you leaned in to press your lips to his, made the air hit Kento's lungs with such blissful relief.

Kento felt bursts of strength with every scrap of love you gave him, enough to tangle his fingers into your hair, and swipe his tongue into your open mouth. Your little squeak of surprise ran through his belly, hot and needy, his cock throbbing in his boxers. Kento kissed you, hungry for relief, needing escalation as the petals began to clog his lungs again.

"Please, touch me," he begged, shameless in his wish to live, "--hurts--please..." Feeling his teeth nip into your lip, pushy and desperate, you allowed Kento to grasp your hand and trail it down over the honey-blond trail of hair on his belly, to cup over his rigid cock. He groaned with relief as you cupped his length, squeezing him until a drop of pre-cum seeped through the front of his boxers.

"--more, I-- I need more--" Kento twisted under your hand, squirming and prickling with the itching joy of your tongue tracing his ear, whispering soft reassurances as he moaned, bucking up into your hand, masturbating him through the fabric of his boxers.

You were mesmerised, obsessed with the effect you had on him. Your pussy throbbed, neglected, edging yourself by pleasuring Kento instead. You found yourself squeezing his cock harder, hungry for his panting breaths, his furrowed brow, the way his fingers clawed at you for release.

Climbing above him on the bed, straddling his hips, you slipped his boxers down and reached into his bedside drawer. His cock, heavy, thick, wet with pre-cum, settled on his belly, twitching as you released him. Your hand settled on a bottle of lube, filling your hand with this white, sticky, cum-like fluid, warming it on your palm.

Kento huffed, chest heaving again as he coughed, a spray of blossom landing on his chest and belly, sticking to the sweat misting his abs. You removed your underwear with your clean hand, resting your throbbing cunt on his balls. Ready to beg again, fingers sinking into the fat of your thighs with bruising force, Kento hissed as your lube-wet hand squeezed down the length of his cock, coating him in glossy slick.

The feeling of his cock, velvet-on-steel, thick in your hand, was a drug. Kento moaned, bucking up into the wet little plaps of your fist, as your hand stroked and squeezed the length of him. Kento felt himself squirm, head tossing and turning as he crumpled the pillow up in one strong forearm, biting into the fabric and blossoms there, frowning, moaning, gasping.

"--fffuuuck yes-- hnnng-- just like that, don't stop please don't stop--"

You leaned down, sinking your teeth into the broad plane of his pec, smiling in spite of the desperation of the situation. Your hand sped up, determined that the first time Kento spent himself, would be just that-- the first time. You would be his lover and his healer.

"I love you," you whispered against the rolling muscles of his chest, "I love you, and I'm staying, and I'll make you better again, I promise..."

Kento twitched, jerking with the force of the stimulation, his hand drifting to cup around yours, the other tugging the roots of his own hair. He moaned, long and stilted, writhing and begging.

"--god I love you-- your mouth, in your mouth please--cumming--"

Kento's seed spattered into your hand and across your tongue, your mouth not fast enough to reach his pulsing cock. Kento panted, short, twitching pants as he watched himself cum uncontrollably, his cum dripping down your cheeks, your eyelashes. Slowing down your strokes, squeezing the last drops of seed as Kento twitched and moaned, overstimulated, you were surprised to feel him remain hard in your hand.

With breathless grunts, and new colour in his cheeks, Kento reached down, pulling you on top of him, chest to chest as he held you, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your hair. You felt him grip you by the hips, slipping them downwards, your belly sliding on the cum dripping across his abdomen. Tilting your chin to look you up at him, Kento looked down at you, nose stroking against yours.

"...all this time?" He asked, so desperate for the reassurance. You nodded, feeling the tip of his cock at your entrance, straddling him so his cockhead pressed inside you.

"All this time...just crushing how I felt," you insisted. Kento was lost in the heat of your pussy clenching around his tip, bucking upwards involuntarily, begging to be invited in. Forehead pressed against his chest, his arms locked behind you, embracing you to him, you gasped as you rolled your hips, sinking him inside you, flush to your core.

You moaned, high-pitched and mewling. You felt yourself clenching, hot and wet around his twitching cock; you were not used to feeling so full, having abstained for so long, with no new suitor ever holding a candle to Kento. You felt Kento cough weakly, a smatter of shrivelled bloodless blossoms colouring your hair.

"--I've got you, I've got you--...shhh, I-- fuck you feel even better than I imagined-- I can't-- can't hold back, I'm--"

Kento's hips rolled up into you, both barely moving, entwined together in the soft silent dark. Belly pressed against his, Kento's cock curled hard against the front of your soft spongy walls, jolting insistently over the plush sensitive spot that made him feel belly-deep. Meeting his thrusts with your own, Kento growled out his sighs, chest rumbling beneath you.

"--worth it-- was all worth it for this...for you, I-- ...was so scared-- wanted to die in your bed-- so lonely--" Kento poured himself out to you, weakened and vulnerable inside you, his cockhead kissing your cervix as he kissed away the tears on your cheeks. The closer he got to his peak, the pain in his chest subsided, and he felt stronger, better, more alive than he had in months.

Kento rolled, flipping you over without warning, and knelt above you, grasping your hips so his cock stayed flush within you. Wrenching his pillow down the bed, he jammed it under the small of your back, panting, overtaken by something otherworldly as he stroked one hand down from your sternum to your mound.

"--selfish...I've been selfish," he berated himself, his long fingers slipping between your folds to find your throbbing little bud. You jolted, a high keening whimper leaving you as he rutted into your angled pussy, rolling your clit delicately between his forefinger and thumb. Kento glowered down at you, his eyes dark with lust, and you shivered under his cool gaze; suddenly, the man who had captured your heart all those months ago; "let's fix that, shall we?"

Kento wasn't sure how he summoned the strength to make love to you like this, his hips rolling with devastatingly slow precision, and you twisted beneath him, feeling every ridge of his bulbous tip as he watched where you were joined, pulling out almost completely before sliding all the way back, making you whimper and squirm.

"--together," Kento insisted, controlling your upcoming orgasm, his touches as accurate as your own fingers within yourself, reading you as you begged and moaned your way to orgasm. Kento fucked into you, hips stuttering, sweating and messy, desperate for you to cum so I can cum too and this whole fucking ordeal can be over god she's so gorgeous how did I get so lucky--

You trembled and whimpered, hands reached down and clutching Kento's thighs, feeling light as a petal on the wind as you came. Eyes closed, face relaxed with this heady, euphoric bliss, you swore you smelled the faint sweet-blossom-nectar of Spring wash over you, there and gone in the space between heartbeats.

Kento felt the weight of the world slip from his shoulders, suddenly whole and complete again, deep and emptying himself inside you with a shudder, your name on his lips; "--...so well--good girl, the best fucking medicine...thank you, thank you--"

Kento floated back down to earth, divine beneath the power being bestowed back into him. His chest cleared, supernatural by nature, his breaths now smooth and swelling. You stared up at him, eyes glazed, dazed by how you had moved him from death's door to demigod, in just minutes.

"I swear-- I promise you-- I'll be the best I can be for you-- the very best--"

"Idiot. You always were. You just...never saw yourself like I see you."

[servingrobin]

I feel like a feral goblin right now lmao, but I do have a request! How would the monster trio react to finding out their rather new female S/O is a virgin who is scared of sex!? Are they excited? Nervous? Surprised? How are they going to calm her fears? How are they going to see her in this new, fragile light? If you do write this, thank you sosososo much!! 💗💕

Ooooooh I always love inexperienced!reader I think it’s fun to unravel how different characters would behave - I’ve done this as HCs but if any of these spark interest I’ll make a full fic.

S anji, luffy, Zoro

Warnings: fluffy smut, inexperienced!reader, fem reader, possessiveness from Zoro,

✨requests are open✨

Sanji

- this guy already treats you like church stained glass

- You go a little further each time you’re alone, sweet kisses become languid tongue strokes across the roof of your mouth, become heavy hands petting across your body, mapping your soul out with his nimble fingers

- You finally get to the point of removing clothes, and Sanji looks at you with such adoration the first time he sees your bare chest that you can’t help blurting out that you’ve never done this before

- Sanji had a nosebleed

- He felt so honoured that you allowed him to be the one to show you these things

- Constantly asking for your comfort and consent, wants you to be completely open about your nervousness

- Does 100% play into his knight in shining armour fantasies - he wants to be the one to show you how to feel good, kiss it all better and be the standard you set your future experiences against

- Wants you to talk to him at all times, constantly asking “is this okay…does this feel good…. You’re doing so well for me my darling”

- Foreplay is a marathon of eating you out and stretching you open with his fingers

- And Sanji will cum just from that if he’s not focused

- Bringing you pleasure and knowing there’s more to come that you don’t even comprehend yet always gets him going

- Overall a really positive first time, Sanji is sweet and thorough and makes it an extremely pleasurable experience for you

Luffy

- when you stutter and blush and finally confess you have no previous experience, Luffy really does not care at all

- He is most likely in the same boat, whilst he knows about sex and is familiar with his own pleasure, he’s always been very goal orientated and not bothered about a partner before you

- So it’s a learning experience for everyone

- You’re very apprehensive the first time, so nervous about pain and how to make Luffy feel good

- But one look at the man with his head between your legs, comically stretching his tongue into funny faces, and you’re gone

- Extremely fun for both of you

- Your giggles go straight to Luffy’s dick and he makes it his mission to make you cum and laugh at the same time

- Fingers you like it’s a competitive sport, one then two fingers pistoning in and out of you at breakneck speed

- You can only hold on for the ride, grasping tufts of black curl and whining like a professional

- You’ve never felt this overwhelmed in pleasure in your life

- He’s checking on you with every come hither motion against your walls, eyes sparkling with a special mix of both mischief and concern that only Luffy can seem to master

- And right when you reach your precipice, moans garbling into prayer, Luffy will snake his other hand up across your sides

- And this man will tickle

- You tumble into an orgasm with laughter on your lips, the conflicting feelings bringing tears to your eyes as you gasp and groan out, choking on your own cackles

- Luffy is insatiable at the sight of you

- When he finally fucks you Luffy is gentle and sweet, slowly stretching you out and using every ounce of patience to stop from rutting into you like an animal

- But once you give him the go ahead - hold on for dear life

- The most fun and relaxed of the crew

Zoro

- okay so we all know this man is not greatly verbal

- When you admit to him your inexperience, he kind of fumbles it at first

- His silence paralyses you, and it’s not until Zoro hears the hiccups of your imminent tears that he springs into action

- Peppers kisses across your whole face

- “Thank you for telling me….. we never have to go further than you’re comfortable with.”

- And that’s all he really says on the matter

- But damn does Zoro think about it constantly

- There’s a small shameful part of him that bursts for joy at the thought of being your first

- Being the one to ruin your innocence and ruin you for anyone else

- And there’s an even smaller, more shameful part that wants to mark you as his, be the first and last person to spill his seed inside you

- When you’re finally together and alone, having spent a relaxing evening drinking Sake together under the stars, Zoro is silent

- You ask for his thoughts and are surprised when all he does is surge forwards to kiss you

- His hands are everywhere and you’re being consumed by him, your soul merging into a fiery ball of pleasure

- Zoro kisses and sucks every part of your body, nipping his way down and marking his territory as he goes

- You were particularly nervous about Zoro’s ‘size’ and he is comforting, rubbing soothing circles across your hips with the pads of his thumbs as he ever so slowly sinks into you

- Gives you some time to adjust whilst suckling on your nipples, pulling the sweetest sounds from your mouth as you have in to Zoro’s methods of pleasure

- Overall a completely addictive and overwhelming experience

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 198 }

matchmakers from hell.

sylus x fem.reader

notes: i gotta thank @nyashykyunnie for feeding me his main story bits! bc without her, i could not write this fluffy drabble at all! some details may not match with the canon story, and i hope you readers forgive me since i am unable to fully play his story due to lack of time and funds lksdjflkdsjfl.

warnings: kind of a crack fic, but i assure you, it's going to be filled with fluff!

kieran and luke could sense the shift in their boss’ demeanor ever since you came along.

it was so obvious that sylus was so into you, with how hard he tries to keep you safe and out of harm’s way. each time the twins watch their boss’ interactions with you, they could have sworn he held hearts in his eyes for you.

it was clear that something about you was different-

something about you was able to bring out a softer side to their boss, a side that the twins had never seen before.

but there was just one, tiny little problem-

sylus was far too arrogant-

far too prideful to admit that he cared about you, much less that he loved you, too.

so, the twins decided to take matters into their own hands, starting with their first plan by making the perfect dinner for their boss and his favorite lady...

as luke makes himself in charge of cooking, kieran takes this chance to sneak into boss' office, wanting to know what you were both up to before beginning their master plan.

remaining hidden behind the door, kieran remains quiet, watching as the scene unfolded before him...

you were gazing listlessly out the window, admiring the skyline while keeping sylus company. you figured you could busy yourself with some other chore, keeping out of sylus's way, but he insisted that you remain close to him just so he could 'keep an eye on you.'

you end up relenting, biting back your sigh as you kept your eyes focused on the city view. however, you couldn't quite ignore sylus's expression. while watching sylus's reflection, you saw the way mephisto remained vigilantly by his side, and each time he picked up a new weapon, assessing it before gingerly cleaning it with a velvet cloth, your eyes were glued to such pristine and precise movements.

the sight of his devastatingly handsome features was so painful for you that you felt your hands ball into fists. you distract yourself by leaning closer to the large window pane, resting your forehead against the cold glass with your eyes closed.

you hear the sound of sylus's chair shifting coupled along with heavy footsteps, stiffening when sylus comes closer to you. his hands automatically wrap around the front of your abdomen, pulling you away from the window.

"don't stand too close to the window. i don't trust you to remain safe, even if my windows are bulletproof."

you narrow your gaze at sylus, facing him with a look of annoyance, "are you hinting that i'm foolish enough to jump through bulletproof glass?"

a smirk paints his features, his large hands already enveloping around yours, tightening his hold around your wrists as he brings you closer to his chest. "not exactly; i just fear that you would be clumsy enough to trip over your own feet and somehow break through such glass."

even when sylus was mocking you, he does end up taking you even further away from the window, settling you in the middle of the room...

kieran leans even closer to the door, watching as his boss frames at your face, whispering something to you. curious as to what was being said, the young man keeps creeping closer-

unfortunately, he ends up miscalculating, landing face first against the floor as his ungraceful movements catches yours and sylus's attention. kieran hears the familiar click of his boss' tongue, feeling nervous as he quickly stands back to his full height.

"what's this?" the leader of onychinu's eyes narrow in suspicion at the sight of his loyal henchman, causing kieran to erupt in bouts of nervous laughter.

"well, you see-"

"WE JUST WANTED TO CALL YOU AND LET YOU KNOW THAT DINNER'S READY!" as if sensing the danger kieran was in, luke steps into the scene, arms comically waving around while speaking loudly, distracting you and sylus from the fact that kieran was obviously spying on the two of you.

wishing to diffuse the situation yourself, you stand next to sylus while saying, "dinner sounds amazing right about now. why don't we join kieran and luke?"

sylus lets out a grunt, the suspicion never leaving his gaze as watches the twins bounced away from them and into the dining room. with a scoff, sylus places a hand behind your back, "i suppose dinner would be a nice break from work." with a snap of his fingers, sylus calls mephisto toward his shoulders before beginning the trek to the dining room with you.

you hum in agreement, trying to maintain a calm and neutral façade while feeling sylus's hand behind your back. only when you and sylus step into the dining room did you feel your own suspicions beginning to grow.

for starters, the large dining table was now replaced with a simple table that was considerably smaller, with two chairs settled on opposite ends of the table. in the middle of the table was a single, large plate of what looked like spaghetti with meat sauce with two forks and two glasses filled with wine settled off to the side.

as you and sylus glance over at the twins, you saw them step backwards, coughing while waving at you both.

"w-well, me and kieran already had a huge lunch, so you lov- i mean, you guys enjoy!" without waiting another second, the twins disappear, their laughters heard echoing throughout the hallways.

you didn't have to face sylus to know that he had a vein popping against his temple. looking at him from your periphery, you watch him let out a sigh as he ran a hand through his perfectly styled hair. "it smells normal enough from here, let's just eat."

you nod in agreement, taking a seat across from sylus before picking up a fork. pouting a bit at how the twins didn't give you and sylus the decency of separate plates, you sigh and dig into the spaghetti noodles.

at first, nothing was out of the ordinary. this spaghetti wasn't the best you ever had, but it was good enough. as you continue to slurp up the noodle, you became increasingly aware of how much closer sylus was getting to you as well.

only when your noses were close to touching did sylus bite off the noodle with a growl, and you do the same while trying to maintain a calm expression. with your hands over your lips, you watch as sylus picks up the spaghetti noodles, finally realizing that the twins had somehow fused all the noodles together, making it into one large, never-ending noodle.

with a roar of their names, sylus stalks away from the dinner table, leaving you behind as you struggled to fight back your laughter, with mephisto cawing in response to his master's anger and annoyance.

it seems as though the twin's plans had failed...

but they would be nothing if not for their sheer tenacity.

{ ... }

you were currently in your bedroom, looking down at your jewelry box as your eyes take in the sight of the ruby necklace that lay in front of you.

"i was out running errands and saw this. i figured you'd like it." sylus's deep voice rings from within your memories as you take the necklace out of the safety of the jewelry box. as you place the the pendant on the palm of your hand, you take a moment to admire how the ruby was shaped into the perfect, crescent moon.

the brilliance and shade of the ruby was enough to remind you of sylus's eyes, making your heart begin to race in response. you had yet to put on the necklace, wishing to somehow cherish it, since it was clear that such kindness coming from sylus was as rare as a blue rose.

his grumpy face when he gifts you such a necklace (on a whim, too) was what ultimately plays over and over again in your memories. running your hand through the slender chain, you had every intention of finally donning the necklace-

"CAW CAW!"

only to let out a gasp when mephisto makes a nose dive towards your precious necklace, managing to take it away from your very grasps as you cried out to him.

"hey! stop! give that back!"

you end up chasing the crow, running all around the place as you tried to follow the crow's swift movements. mephisto ends up spitting out the necklace inside of a closet. seeing the sparkling jewelry close to your grasps, you didn't stop going after it, landing within the closet while letting out a triumphant sound-

only to feel your heart sink when the doors to the closet closes completely.

"wait, what is this?" you place both palms of your hands against the closet, but found that you were unable to open it. your mind was screaming in frustration as you peer through the slits, only to see kieran (or was it luke?) settling a chair beneath the closet's doorknob.

"no, you've got to be kidding me! this isn't funny guys!" laughter fills at the air, and you kept pounding at the closet doors while demanding that they let you out-

but to no avail.

"KIERAN, LUKE-"

"please don't start screaming, or else you'll make my headache even worse."

your eyes go wide, and you look behind you to see sylus settled near the wall. he grunts and shoves aside the clothes hanging beside him, making you visibly relax just the tiniest bit.

"you got trapped in here, too?"

sylus lets out a grunt, "indeed. it appears that we have both been duped."

"but what are they trying to do...?" sylus remains silent when you ask him that question, noticing the way you held the necklace he had gifted you in your hands.

"why is that necklace in your hand? did you plan to throw it out?" you noticed the way sylus tries to maintain his aloof attitude, but the certain edge heard in his voice made it clear that the thought of you tossing aside the necklace he had given you bothered him.

you look down at the necklace and shake your head, "no, sylus, i had no intention of throwing it out."

"i gave that to you months ago. why haven't you worn it then? what? is it not expensive enough for you?"

his biting words make your heart clench in pain for the briefest of moments, yet you knew that you had to clear up this misunderstanding by being honest with him. "no, that's not it at all. it's just... i was really happy when you gave this necklace to me. words couldn't describe how i was feeling... and i just... i wanted to just keep looking at it. to somehow burn the memory of you giving this to me into my very mind..."

sylus remains silent, but as you met his gaze, you notice how his rufescent eyes had taken on an almost softer quality. you hum and turn around so that your back was facing him, with you revealing the necklace to him. "if you don't mind, can you help me put it on?"

you couldn't see sylus, however, you could feel the necklace moving away from the palm of your hand. with sylus brushing aside your hair, he carefully places the necklace on you, with its pendant facing forward before fastening it.

when you felt him let go of the necklace, allowing it to fall against your chest, you turn around and had every intention of thanking him-

only to feel your eyes go wide the moment sylus leans down to press a searing kiss against your lips.

no words were spoken when you allowed yourself to fall into his embrace, letting out a soft moan of his name when sylus practically crushes you to his chest. he gently presses his tongue against your lips, making you automatically part them for him as he further deepened the kiss.

while you were caught up in his kiss, the entire universe seemed to melt away, leaving behind two kindred souls who have finally found each other...

{ ... }

close to an hour had passed since the twins and mephisto helped lock you in the closet with their boss, and they became filled with concern at how there wasn't a single sound heard coming from the closet.

fearing for their lives (and believing that their boss was silently seething with rage for them), they remove the chair from the closet and toss open the doors-

only to find their boss still locking lips with his lady love in a passionate kiss.

kieran and luke were left flabbergasted at the sight, with it taking them a full minute to process what was going on. slowly, they began to close the door once more, amused giggles escaping from them as they quickly tiptoed away from the room.

"it seems like operation seven minutes in heaven was a success after all."

a.n. - they are two idiots in love, your honor. also,,,, wtf why was this so much fun to write?? i had a blast writing this, and i hope that it was just as fun for you readers to read as well. currently unedited, but i'll make changes once this is posted. 🥹

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[azrielsrealmate]

breaking the ice

azriel x reader

summary: after getting a broken nose from Nesta, you end up yielding to what you have been trying to avoid.

warnings: blood, injuries.

You knew exactly what kind of man Azriel was. Cold as steel, emotionally distant, always disciplined and rigid in his principles. He was the kind of man that, in some twisted way, you had been searching for your whole life. His emotional distance provided you with a safe space, a solid wall between your true self and him. You felt comfortable there, with no commitments or emotional obligations tying you down, allowing you to stay within your comfort zone.

You had easily navigated a sea of superficial relationships because that was the type of love you had known since childhood, the only example you had received from your parents. That cold and distant love had taken root in you, and without realizing it, you had spent years seeking it in others, desperately trying to recreate something that, although painful, was familiar to you.

But everything changed with Azriel. Despite knowing that being with him went against all your defenses, you found yourself unable to resist the subtle warmth that emanated from him in the most unexpected moments. Like the touch of his hands when they brushed against your skin, always gentle, or the looks he gave you, full of a tenderness that seemed to melt the ice in your heart.

He was an enigma. Your hands, accustomed to being firm and decisive, trembled at the thought of holding something as fragile as Azriel's emotions. You hadn’t been raised to handle softness, and yet, every gesture of his made you yearn for something you never thought you needed.

Azriel sought you out. You saw it in the way his hazel eyes landed on you when he returned from a mission, in how he sat next to you at dinners, so close that his legs brushed against yours under the table. You felt it in the way his presence enveloped you during the nights at the Town House, where laughter and stories filled the air, but his attention was always on you, subtle but constant. And when, in a moment of weakness, you leaned towards him seeking his touch, he was always there, his hands steady on you, holding you with a gentleness that disarmed you.

Tonight, everything had gone wrong. In a burst of brutal honesty, you had said something you shouldn’t have to Nesta, and now you were in the Town House kitchen, cleaning the blood from your broken nose with a cloth soaked in cold water. The punch had been deserved; you couldn’t deny it. Your words had been harsh, even cruel, and you knew you couldn’t blame Nesta for reacting the way she did.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t hear the almost inaudible footsteps behind you, nor did you notice how the shadows in the room grew denser. It wasn’t until you felt Azriel's presence, his chest almost pressed against your back, that your heart skipped a beat.

"So she really hit you," Azriel murmured, more to himself than to you.

"I don’t blame her," you responded, trying to keep your voice steady, but you noticed it sounded weaker than you had intended. He moved even closer, his warmth surrounding you, and you felt his breath on your neck.

"In the nose?" he asked, and without waiting for an answer, you turned so he could see for himself.

You had to look up to meet his eyes, those hazel eyes that observed you with an intensity that made you feel exposed. Azriel took a step back, examining you carefully, his hand lifting your chin gently to inspect the damage.

"I don’t think she broke your nose," he said, his fingers firm but tender on your skin.

"It doesn’t feel like she did," you whispered, barely aware of how close he was to you.

Azriel looked at you for a second longer, his eyes tracing your face as if he wanted to memorize every detail. You noticed the tension in his jaw, a fraction of a second where he seemed to struggle against his own feelings before his expression softened again. You took a deep breath, trying to calm the racing of your heart.

His eyes shifted to the damp cloth you were holding, and for a moment, his expression hardened before returning to its usual calm. It was in that moment that you realized, with painful clarity, what his gestures meant. Every look, every touch, was leading you further and further into a situation from which you knew it would be hard to escape.

But you let it pass. For once, you decided not to think too much about what was happening. You didn’t want to analyze it; you didn’t want to find a way out. You just wanted to feel.

With a delicacy that disarmed you, Azriel took the cloth from your hands and guided you towards the kitchen island. He sat you on one of the chairs, his height imposing even while you were seated. Leaning towards you, he lifted your chin again, his fingers brushing your skin with a softness that not many people had shown you.

He wiped the blood from your face with slow, meticulous movements, making sure not to leave any trace. And even though he had finished cleaning, he kept his hand on your chin, his hazel eyes fixed on yours.

When his thumb gently traced your lip, a shiver ran through your body. No one had touched you like this before, with an intimacy that bordered on vulnerability. You closed your eyes without realizing it, letting yourself be carried away by the sensation.

Shame hit you instantly. You weren’t a teenager, nor someone who let themselves be carried away by uncontrolled emotions. And yet, there you were, reacting to every gesture of Azriel’s as if you were someone completely different.

You could see the internal struggle in him, the tension in his shoulders, the doubt in his eyes. He seemed to be debating between what he wanted to do and what he knew he should do. And you, for the first time, found yourself at the same crossroads.

But instead of retreating, you decided to stay. Because despite everything you knew about Azriel, there was something in that subtle warmth, in that silent connection, that made you want to stay by his side, even if just for tonight.

Azriel kept his thumb on your lip, as if he were testing the texture of something fragile and precious, something that might break if he applied too much pressure. You shivered at the intimacy of the gesture, at the way his touch, both firm and gentle, seemed to ignite a spark within you. Your eyes closed again, trying to contain the avalanche of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you.

"Why are you doing this, Azriel?" Your voice came out barely a whisper, unsure, but loud enough for him to hear.

"I don’t know," he replied just as softly, his breath brushing your face. "But I also don’t know how to stop."

His words echoed in your mind, more like a promise than a confession. The air between you both grew thick, charged with a tension that you could both feel. You opened your eyes slowly, meeting his gaze once more, that intense look that seemed to read every corner of your soul. There was something new in those hazel eyes, a mix of desire and vulnerability that you had never seen before.

"Azriel…" you whispered, his name leaving your lips with a softness that even surprised you. You didn’t know what you were going to say, you didn’t know if there was anything to say. All you knew was that he was too close and that you didn’t want him to pull away.

In a movement that felt completely natural, Azriel lowered his head towards yours, his lips just a breath away. The world shrank to that small space between you, to the way your breaths mingled, to the anticipation of what would come next.

Your heart pounded harder, quickening when Azriel closed the distance, brushing his lips against yours in a gesture so delicate it was almost imperceptible. But that barely-there touch was enough to unleash a storm inside you. It was a kiss that didn’t demand, that didn’t rush; it was a kiss that offered, that gave you the chance to decide if you wanted it, if you were ready to let everything change.

Without thinking, you leaned into him, accepting his invitation, your lips responding to his with a longing you hadn’t realized you had buried so deep. Azriel’s hand, which still held your chin, slid to your cheek, his thumb drawing small circles on your skin as his lips moved with a tenderness that completely disarmed you.

There was no rush in the kiss, just a connection that deepened with every passing second. You felt your barriers crumbling, felt how every caress of his made you forget the reasons you had built those walls in the first place.

Finally, when you both ran out of breath, Azriel pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. His hand remained on your cheek, his thumb gently stroking the line of your jaw.

"I’m not used to this," he confessed quietly, his vulnerable gaze contrasting with the impenetrable image he usually showed the world. "I don’t know how to handle what I feel… for you."

The words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, all you could do was look at him, processing what he had just said. The sincerity in his voice, the way his eyes searched yours as if desperately needing an answer, made your heart tighten in your chest.

"You don’t have to do it alone," you finally responded, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions you were feeling. You knew this was new, even scary, but there was something in you that wanted to try, that wanted to give a chance to whatever was blooming between the two of you.

Azriel seemed to relax slightly, as if your words had eased a weight he had been carrying on his shoulders. Without saying anything else, he leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as you both breathed in silence, sharing that small space of peace in the midst of the storm.

You stayed like that for a while, in silence, simply enjoying the closeness, the comfort found in the simple act of being together. Finally, Azriel opened his eyes and looked at you, a small, barely perceptible smile curving his lips.

"So, what do we do now?" he asked, his tone lighter but still carrying that underlying seriousness that always accompanied him.

You thought for a moment, weighing your options, before answering with a smile that matched his. "I think we could start with another kiss," you suggested softly.

Azriel let out a low laugh, his hand moving to tangle in your hair as he leaned towards you once more.

[its-avalon-08]

show me that you love me (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, girl bestfriend, alot tears, fluff, it's super long

Lando Norris was known for his friendly and approachable demeanor. He was the type of person who made everyone feel comfortable and valued, a trait that made his girlfriend, Y/N, fall for him in the first place. Lando and Y/N had been dating for over a year, and while their relationship was mostly smooth sailing, there was one thing that always made Y/N uneasy: Lando’s close friendship with another girl, Emma.

Emma had been Lando’s friend since childhood. They shared countless memories, inside jokes, and a bond that seemed unbreakable. They often talked and hung out, and even after Y/N left for the night, they would stay on call, laughing and chatting away. Y/N trusted Lando, but her insecurities gnawed at her, especially when she saw how close he and Emma were.

a few times y/n felt second best

It was a typical Saturday afternoon, and Y/N was at Lando’s apartment. They were cuddled up on the couch, watching a movie. Lando’s phone buzzed, and he glanced at the screen, smiling.

“It’s Emma,” he said, typing a quick response. “She’s planning a get-together next weekend. Do you want to come?”

Y/N’s smile faltered slightly, but she forced herself to nod. “Sure, sounds fun.”

Lando, not noticing the change in her demeanor, continued texting Emma, laughing at something she had sent. Y/N turned her attention back to the movie, but her mind was elsewhere, replaying the countless times Lando had prioritized Emma’s messages and calls over their time together.

Another instance occurred during a dinner date. They were at a cozy restaurant, enjoying a rare evening out. Lando was telling Y/N about a funny incident that had happened at a karting event he attended with Emma.

“You should have seen Emma’s face when she spun out on the track. It was hilarious!” Lando laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Y/N tried to smile, but it felt forced. “Yeah, that sounds funny.”

Lando’s laughter faded as he noticed Y/N’s lack of enthusiasm. “Are you okay? You seem a bit off.”

“I’m fine,” Y/N replied quickly, not wanting to ruin the evening. “Just tired from work.”

Lando accepted her explanation, but the truth was, Y/N was tired of feeling like she was always competing for his attention.

end of flashback

One evening, Lando and Y/N attended a party hosted by one of Lando’s fellow drivers. The atmosphere was lively, music blaring, and people dancing. Y/N tried to focus on having a good time, but her eyes kept drifting to Lando and Emma, who were engrossed in their conversation, completely oblivious to everyone else.

Y/N took a deep breath, laughing through the pain that was beginning to bubble up inside her. She couldn’t shake off the feeling of being an outsider, even when she was right next to Lando. Finally, she decided to confront him about it.

The party was in full swing, the music thumping and people chatting animatedly. Y/N stood by the bar, nursing a drink and trying to keep her spirits up. She glanced across the room, where Lando was laughing with Emma. The two of them were standing close, closer than Y/N felt comfortable with.

Emma playfully nudged Lando, and he responded by wrapping an arm around her shoulders. They shared a laugh, completely engrossed in their conversation. Y/N felt a pang in her chest, but she forced a smile, trying to ignore the discomfort growing inside her.

As the night wore on, Y/N watched as Emma and Lando moved from one side of the room to the other, always together. At one point, Emma whispered something in Lando’s ear, and he threw his head back, laughing loudly. Y/N’s smile faltered as she watched Emma place a hand on Lando’s chest, leaning in closer.

Y/N walked over to join them, hoping to be part of the conversation and ease her unease. "Hey, guys, what’s so funny?"

Emma turned to her, still grinning. "Oh, just a silly joke Lando told me. You had to be there."

Lando looked at Y/N and smiled, but there was a slight awkwardness in his eyes. "Yeah, just messing around."

Y/N forced a laugh, trying to fit in. "Sounds like fun."

But as the night went on, it became increasingly difficult for her to ignore the way Emma clung to Lando’s side, or how Lando seemed to light up whenever Emma spoke to him. Y/N’s heart sank further when she saw Emma lightly tug on Lando’s arm, leading him to the dance floor. Lando followed willingly, his eyes never leaving Emma’s.

On the dance floor, Emma twirled around, her laughter ringing out as Lando spun her. They moved in sync, their chemistry undeniable. Y/N stood at the edge of the crowd, watching them with a growing sense of dread. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was on the outside looking in, and the realization was tearing her apart.

Y/N tried to distract herself by talking to some friends, but her eyes kept drifting back to Lando and Emma. They were now dancing closely, their faces inches apart. Emma’s hands rested on Lando’s shoulders, while his hands were at her waist. They were in their own little world, oblivious to everyone else, including Y/N.

The final straw came when Y/N saw Emma whisper something in Lando’s ear again, and he responded by hugging her tightly. It was a hug that lasted too long, one that made Y/N feel like an outsider in her own relationship. She felt a lump in her throat and knew she couldn’t stay silent any longer.

Gathering her courage, Y/N walked up to them, her voice trembling but firm. "Lando, can we talk?"

Lando looked at her, a mixture of surprise and concern in his eyes. "Sure, Y/N. What’s up?"

Y/N glanced at Emma, who was watching them with a slight smirk. "Alone, please."

Lando nodded and followed Y/N to a quieter corner of the room. "What’s going on, Y/N?"

She took a deep breath, her heart pounding. "Lando, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t stand the way you and Emma are so close. It feels like I’m always competing for your attention, and it’s breaking my heart."

Lando’s eyes widened in shock. "What do you mean? Emma’s just a friend."

Y/N shook her head, tears welling up. "It doesn’t feel that way to me. The way you look at her, the way you laugh with her, it’s like I’m not even there. And it hurts, Lando. It hurts so much."

Lando looked genuinely confused. "But Y/N, you know I love you. Emma’s just…she’s just Emma."

Y/N’s voice broke. "Would you be okay if I was that close with another guy? If I danced with him like that, whispered in his ear, and hugged him the way you do with Emma?"

Lando frowned, his defensiveness kicking in. “I wouldn’t like it, but that’s different. Emma and I have known each other forever. There’s nothing romantic between us.”

“But it’s not about romance, Lando. It’s about the time and attention you give her. It makes me feel like I’m not as important to you,” Y/N explained, her frustration growing.

“I don’t get why it’s such a big deal,” Lando replied, shaking his head. “You should trust me.”

“It’s not about trust!” Y/N exclaimed, her voice louder now. “It’s about how you make me feel. You’re not even trying to understand my perspective.”

Lando crossed his arms, his expression stubborn. “I think you’re overreacting.”

Y/N’s heart sank at his words. She had hoped he would understand, but it was clear he wasn’t willing to see things from her point of view. Tears welled up in her eyes as she realized what she had to do.

“Lando, I can’t do this anymore,” she said, her voice breaking. “I can’t be in a relationship where I feel second best.”

Lando’s eyes widened in shock. “Y/N, wait, you don’t mean that.”

“I do,” she said firmly, wiping away her tears. “I love you, but I need to be with someone who values me and makes me feel like a priority. I can’t keep competing with your friendship with Emma. I'm done. Thanks for making me feel like an outsider in my own relationship.”

Without another word, Y/N turned and walked away, her heart heavy but resolute. As she left the party, she heard Lando calling after her, but she didn’t look back. She had made her decision, and it was time to move on.

Lando stood there, stunned and hurt, unable to comprehend how his friendship with Emma had led to the end of his relationship with Y/N. He had thought he could balance both, but he had failed to see how his actions had affected the person he loved most. Now, he was left alone, grappling with the consequences of his choices, and wondering if he would ever be able to make things right.

--

Lando stood in the aftermath of the party, replaying the events over and over in his mind. His heart felt heavy, and for the first time, he began to question the dynamics of his friendship with Emma. He had been in shock. Unable to stop crying, he met up with Max Verstappen and Carlos Sainz at their usual café, hoping to find some solace.

"Hey, mate," Max greeted, but his usual upbeat tone was noticeably subdued. Carlos sat next to him, his arms crossed and a scowl etched on his face.

"Hey," Lando replied, slumping into a chair. "Rough night."

Carlos wasted no time, leaning forward with a look of frustration. "Lando, what the hell happened with Y/N? She left in tears."

Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair. "She said she felt like I was more invested in my friendship with Emma than in our relationship. I didn't get it. Emma's just a friend."

Carlos scoffed. "A goddamn friend? You seriously don’t see it, do you?"

Max shook his head. "Lando, you’ve always been fucking blind when it comes to Emma. She acts all friendly, but half the stuff she does? It's flirty, and it’s been making Y/N uncomfortable for a long time."

Lando frowned. "Like what? Emma's never been flirty."

Carlos sighed, exasperated. "Remember that time at the team dinner when Emma sat on your lap because there weren't enough chairs? You thought it was funny, but Y/N was bloody mortified."

Max added, "Or what about the time Emma ‘accidentally’ spilled her drink on Y/N's dress and spent the whole night glued to your side, helping you 'comfort' her?"

Lando’s eyes widened. "But those were just accidents…"

Carlos cut him off. "No, Lando, they weren’t. Y/N hated it. She felt like she was competing with Emma for your attention every single time."

Max leaned in, his tone serious. "Mate, Y/N loved you. She put up with a lot because she trusted you, but there’s a limit to how much someone can take. You were too close to Emma, and it hurt Y/N. Can you honestly say you'd be okay if Y/N had a guy friend who acted the way Emma does?"

Lando looked down, guilt settling in his stomach. "No, I wouldn’t. But I didn’t realize how much it was affecting her."

Carlos shook his head. "And that's the problem, Lando. You didn’t see it because you didn’t want to. Emma’s actions were always about pushing boundaries, and you let her."

Lando sighed heavily, his heart aching with regret. "I thought I was being a good friend to Emma and a good boyfriend to Y/N. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone."

Max softened slightly, placing a hand on Lando’s shoulder. "We know you didn’t mean to, but intentions don’t always match up with reality. Y/N deserves better than feeling like second best."

Carlos leaned back, his tone still stern but with a hint of sadness. "You’ve lost someone amazing, Lando. Y/N is one of the best people I know, and she deserved to be treated like a priority. You need to understand that."

Lando nodded, tears welling up in his eyes. "I get it now. I messed up. I just wish I had seen it sooner."

Max and Carlos exchanged a look, their expressions softening. They knew Lando was genuinely remorseful, but it was up to him to make things right—if he even could.

Carlos spoke up, his voice gentler. "Lando, you need to figure out what you really want. If it’s Y/N, you need to prove to her that you can prioritize her and respect her feelings. And if it’s not…then you need to let her go properly and give her a chnace to be happy again."

Lando swallowed hard, the weight of their words sinking in. "I want Y/N. I love her carlos, and I need to make this right."

Max gave a small nod. "Then show her that. Actions speak louder than words."

--

Lando walked out of the café, his thoughts a turbulent mix of regret and determination. He wandered aimlessly for a while, trying to clear his mind. Eventually, he found himself at a quiet park, sitting on a bench as he replayed the conversations with Max and Carlos.

A few minutes later, he heard footsteps approaching. He looked up to see Carlos, still looking stern, but there was a flicker of concern in his eyes.

“Hey,” Carlos said, sitting down next to him.

“Hey,” Lando replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Carlos took a deep breath, his anger still simmering beneath the surface. “Lando, there’s more you need to understand.”

Lando nodded, bracing himself. “I know. I’ve been an idiot, Carlos. I didn’t see how much I was hurting Y/N.”

Carlos’ jaw tightened. “You have no idea, Lando. Do you know how many times Y/N cried to me? How many times she felt like she was losing you to Emma?”

Lando’s heart sank. “No, I didn’t know. I wish she had told me.”

“She tried, Lando. But you were so wrapped up in your friendship with Emma that you didn’t see it. She would come to me, tears streaming down her face, asking what she should do. She felt like she was being unreasonable, like she was crazy for feeling the way she did.”

Lando’s eyes filled with tears. “I never meant for her to feel that way. I thought I was being a good friend, but I was blind to how it was affecting her.”

Carlos’ voice softened, but his anger was still evident. “She loved you, Lando. She put up with more than anyone should have to. There were nights when she couldn’t sleep because she was so upset. She’d call me, asking for advice, and I felt fucking helpless because I didn’t know how to make it better.”

Lando’s tears spilled over, his voice choked with emotion. “I’m so sorry, Carlos. I should have seen it. I should have been there for her.”

Carlos shook his head, his eyes reflecting his frustration. “Sorry doesn’t cut it, Lando. You need to understand the depth of her pain. She felt like she was competing for your love and attention. Every time you laughed with Emma, every time you chose her over Y/N, it was like a knife to her heart.”

Lando buried his face in his hands, sobbing. “I was an idiot. I didn’t see it. I didn’t want to see it.”

Carlos’ voice softened slightly. “You need to make this right, Lando. If you love Y/N, you need to show her. You need to prove to her that she’s the most important person in your life.”

Lando looked up, his eyes red and puffy. “I do love her, Carlos. More than anything. I’ll do whatever it takes to win her back.”

Carlos sighed, placing a hand on Lando’s shoulder. “Then start by cutting ties with Emma. You can’t have both. You need to show Y/N that she’s your priority.”

Lando nodded, his resolve strengthening. “I will. I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll show Y/N that she means everything to me. I will. Thank you, Carlos. For being there for her when I wasn’t.”

Carlos’ expression softened further, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Just make things right, Lando. She’s worth it.”

As Carlos walked away, Lando sat on the bench, the weight of his mistakes heavy on his shoulders. But for the first time, he felt a glimmer of hope. He knew it wouldn’t be easy, but he was determined to fight for Y/N and show her that she was the love of his life. With renewed determination, he stood up, ready to take the first steps toward making things right.

--

Y/N sat on the floor of her bedroom, surrounded by half-packed boxes and scattered belongings. She tried to focus on folding her clothes and organizing her things, but her hands trembled with every piece she touched. The reality of her breakup with Lando weighed heavily on her heart, and the pain was almost unbearable. She tried to hold back the tears, but they came anyway, spilling down her cheeks in a torrent of emotion.

As she reached for another shirt to pack, she couldn’t hold it in any longer. The sobs wracked her body, and she curled up on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest. Her heart felt like it was being torn apart, and she cried so hard that she could barely breathe.

In the midst of her despair, she heard the front door burst open, and then hurried footsteps echoed through the hallway. Before she could react, Lando was there, rushing into her room and kneeling beside her.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice breaking. “Please, stop. Don’t do this.”

Y/N looked up at him, her vision blurred by tears. “Lando, I can’t. I can’t keep feeling like this. It hurts too much.”

Lando reached out, gently taking her hands in his. “I know, and I’m so sorry. I was blind, and I didn’t see how much I was hurting you. But please, just listen to me.”

Y/N tried to pull away, but Lando held her hands firmly, his eyes pleading with her. “Please, Y/N. Just give me a chance to explain.”

She nodded reluctantly, and Lando took a deep breath, launching into his monologue.

“I’ve been an idiot, Y/N. I took you for granted, and I didn’t realize how much my friendship with Emma was affecting you. I thought I could balance both, but I was wrong. I didn’t see how much you were hurting because I was too focused on what I thought was right. But I understand now. I understand that I made you feel like you were second best, and that’s the last thing I ever wanted.”

He paused, his eyes filling with tears. “You are the most important person in my life, Y/N. I love you more than anything, and I’m so sorry for not showing you that. I’m sorry for all the times I made you feel like you had to compete for my attention. I’m sorry for not being there for you when you needed me the most.”

Lando’s voice trembled as he continued, “I promise you, from this moment on, I will do everything in my power to make things right. I’ve already talked to Emma, and I’ve made it clear that our friendship needs to change. You are my priority, Y/N. You always have been, and I’m so sorry for making you feel otherwise.”

He squeezed her hands, his eyes full of sincerity and love. “Please, give me another chance. Let me prove to you that I can be the boyfriend you deserve. I want to make you happy baby. I want to be there for you in every way possible. I can’t imagine my life without you, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to earn your forgiveness and your trust.”

Y/N’s sobs had quieted, and she looked into Lando’s eyes, seeing the depth of his remorse and love. Her heart ached with the memories of the pain she had felt, but she also felt a glimmer of hope. She could see that Lando was truly sorry, and that he was willing to change for her.

“Lando,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “I love you too. I just… I need to know that things will be different.”

“They will be,” Lando vowed, his voice filled with determination. “I promise you, Y/N. I will make things right. I will show you every day how much you mean to me. Please, give me a chance to prove it.”

Y/N took a deep breath, her heart still heavy but starting to feel a bit lighter. She could see the sincerity in Lando’s eyes, and she wanted to believe that things could get better. Slowly, she nodded, and Lando’s face lit up with a hopeful smile.

“Thank you,” he said, pulling her into his arms. “Thank you for giving me another chance baby. I won’t let you down, I promise.”

Y/N clung to him, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the love in his words. For the first time in a long while, she felt a sense of peace. She knew that it wouldn’t be easy, but with Lando’s genuine effort and their love for each other, they could work through this together.

As they held each other, the pain of the past began to fade, replaced by a renewed sense of hope and love.

--

Lando and Y/N were lying on the couch, wrapped in each other’s arms. The room was quiet, the only sound being the soft ticking of the clock on the wall. After their heartfelt reconciliation, they had spent hours talking, sharing their feelings, and rebuilding the trust that had been shattered.

Y/N rested her head on Lando’s chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath. His arms were wrapped tightly around her, as if he was afraid to let go. She could feel the warmth of his body, the familiar scent that brought her so much comfort.

As they lay there in silence, Y/N felt something wet on her forehead. She looked up and saw Lando’s face streaked with silent tears, his eyes filled with sorrow.

“Lando,” she whispered, her voice full of concern. "Baby what's wrong?”

Lando swallowed hard, his voice trembling as he spoke. “I’m so sorry, my love. I’m so sorry for everything I put you through. I can’t believe how blind I was, how much I hurt you without realizing it. I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”

Y/N reached up, gently cupping his face in her hands. “Lando, you made a mistake, but you’ve shown me how much you care and how much you’re willing to change. That means everything to me.”

Lando’s tears flowed more freely now, his chest heaving with emotion. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Y/N. Losing you was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. I promise, I’ll never take you for granted again. I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy.”

Y/N wiped away his tears with her thumbs, her own eyes glistening. “Lando, I believe you. I know you love me, and I love you too. We’ll get through this together.”

Lando pulled her closer, burying his face in her hair. “I just feel so guilty. I should have seen it. I should have been there for you.”

Y/N kissed his cheek, her voice soothing. “What matters is that you see it now, and you’re here for me. We’re stronger because of this. We’ll be okay.”

Lando’s grip tightened, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

Y/N smiled softly, her heart swelling with love. “You don’t have to make it up to me, Lando. Just love me, be with me, and we’ll be okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

Lando’s tears began to slow, his heart finding solace in her words. He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to her lips. “I love you so much, Y/N. More than anything.”

“I love you too, Lando,” she replied, snuggling closer. “And we’ll get through this, together.”

As they lay there, wrapped in each other’s embrace, Lando felt a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in a long time. Despite the pain and the mistakes, he knew that their love was strong enough to overcome anything. And with Y/N by his side, he felt ready to face whatever the future held.

[sun-kissy]

I am BEGGING on my knees for a part two to "Meant to be" 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

your wish is my command, sweetheart!! here is part 2. thank you guys so much for all the love on part 1 ♡

meant to be | poly!wolfstar (part 2)

part 1 | part 2

tw: angst, hurt/comfort

poly!wolfstar x reader

The chillness radiating off the wall behind you does nothing to ease your pain as you slump to the ground outside the common room.

You press your fingertips to your lips, nibbling on your nails anxiously as you feel the hot tears dribble down your cheeks.

It was over. Your relationship with Sirius and Remus was over, and it was all your fault. You had ruined it.

It had felt like the right decision two minutes ago when you were admitting your troubles in the common room. It had felt like something you had to do for the past few weeks, whenever you saw the boys together without you, whenever you felt like an extra in their relationship.

So why did it feel like there was a gaping hole in your heart? Why did it feel like your insides had just been clawed out and crushed to pieces? 

This was your doing, your choice, you told yourself. No point mourning for a relationship that was already dead. 

Maybe Sirius and Remus were bubbling with laughter and cuddling in the common room right now. You really hoped that they were glad to be rid of you, because it was worth feeling this hurt if it meant they were happy.

As your thoughts of culpability begin to consume you, your vision starts to blur with tears. You lean your head against the wall, eyes closing as a soft sob escapes your lips. 

It was dawning upon you that you really had lost the boys you loved, and there was nothing you could do about it.

You freeze, your train of thought evaporating into thin air when you suddenly feel a hand on your cheek, thumbing the tears away.

You could recognise his touch anywhere, hands calloused from animalistic tendencies but gentle as a lamb when he traced hearts on your skin.

Eyes fluttering open, you come face to face with Remus, his beautiful face scrunched up in a sullen frown. Your vision flickers over to Sirius, standing behind him.

Sirius looks unsteady on his feet, swaying slightly from side to side with bloodshot eyes and tear tracks on his cheeks. Your heart feels heavy in your chest, and you know you probably look just as bad as he does. He was gazing at you with an unfamiliar desperation in his eyes, which truly, really mortified you. And to think you thought he would be pleased with the breakup - god, you were horrible.

“Dove,” Remus breathes out in a quiet rasp, drawing your attention back to him. You will your heart to stay intact as you look into his hazel eyes, but you feel it breaking anyway. Not a single word comes out your mouth knowing full well that you would break down into a sobbing mess if you spoke. You avert your gaze and opt to stare at the ground instead.

“Hey, look at me, please,” he whispers, rubbing your cheek again with those stupidly lovely hands and looking at you with those disgustingly pretty eyes and all the love in the world that you wished that you could die. You quietly raise your head to look at Remus again, and he offers you a small, forced smile to compensate you for your effort. “There’s my girl,” he murmurs.

His hand suddenly retracts from your face, and you hate to admit it but you miss his warmth immediately. His eyes widen slightly, and it’s like he remembered that you’re not his girl anymore. You’re not his. 

There’s a beat of sad silence as all of you sit with the fact that things weren’t the same as they used to be, maybe they never would be.

“Y/n,” Sirius croaks out, breaking the silence as you whip your head up to look at his grief-stricken face. It’s not so much the brokenness of his voice as the fact that he isn’t trying to hide it which hurts your heart. “Can we… can we please just talk this out? Please?”

He takes a small wobbly step toward you, extending his hand. You feel the sirens in your head start to sound loudly. Should you give him your hand? Should you give him your heart again?

You despise the feeling of longing which immediately strikes you. The desire to feel Sirius’ fingers intertwined with yours again, the wish to hold him in your arms, the need to wipe those tears from his lovely face. You wished things to be as they once were, his arms around your waist and lips on your forehead. Remus’ head on your lap as you combed your fingers through his hair, eyes fleetingly meeting before smiles full of love were passed around. It wasn’t just a relationship, it was a home. It was achingly sacred.

That home was broken, tarnished. Maybe it had been broken since the day you fell in love with them. Maybe it had been torn apart when they carried their relationship along without you. Or maybe you had ruined it when you told them you wanted no part in this affair anymore.

But if there was one thing you knew, it was that things that were broken could be fixed. You knew this fact like the back of your hand, from the countless times Remus had uttered those exact words to you when you were dissolving into a mess of tears and panic. You knew the words from when Sirius murmured them softly in your ear, stroking your hair as you sobbed yourself half to death. When you were trapped under the debris of problems that was your life, broken and scarred, they had pulled you out. They had fixed you.

Undeniably, Sirius and Remus had made their fair share of mistakes, unintentionally shunning you from the best parts of their relationship. They had torn your heart apart, but they fixed it up every single time they kissed you or smiled at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. Those fleeting moments had made all the hurt seem like nothing.

So who were you to deny the boys your affection? Even when they made mistakes, it was okay; because they loved you, and that was enough. You knew they might stumble and they may mess things up, but they would always get back up and take your hand. The sheer force of their love would be enough to overcome their shortcomings, you were sure of it.

So when Sirius stretches out his palm towards you, you wrap your hand around his. Remus watches on quietly, wide eyes darting between the both of you. 

Sirius’ face lights up immediately, a hint of relief in his eyes. It looks like all the tension has left his features as he gives you a small grin. Your lips curve upwards in a soft smile.

“Yeah, I think… I think we can talk about it. I’m sorry for just walking out on you guys like that.”

“No, angel,” Remus retorts immediately, standing up and wrapping an arm around your waist to haul you up as well. “It’s not your fault at all. We… we screwed up, big time. We were blind to your feelings, and we’re really fucking sorry for that,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair defeatedly. 

“But we’re gonna do better. We’re gonna make it work,” Sirius pipes up uncharacteristically firmly, his hand squeezing yours reassuringly. Remus nods, lifting his gaze to look at you as well. “Yeah, for you. We’re gonna try harder just for you.” Seeing the determination and love on their faces involuntarily melts your heart and brings a smile to your face, a real one this time.

The hint of happiness on your face is a big enough victory for them, Sirius’ smile morphing into a usual full-blown grin, and Remus’ arm tightening around your waist as he pulls you into his side. He moves towards the common room, Sirius’ hand still tightly gripping yours.

“We’re gonna talk about it, but not after some much-deserved cuddles and hot chocolate,” Remus murmurs, a small grin gracing his face when he sees the smile on your lips. The three of you walk in that awfully awkward position, you pressed against Remus with your hand tightly gripping Sirius’.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way. Just like this relationship, which had its ups and downs. That was especially the case for a three-way affair, something foreign to all of you. You were bound to slip up and you were bound to make mistakes.

But you loved them, and they loved you. That was all that mattered.

[sentoooo]

ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴄᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢ 'ʀᴏᴅᴇᴏ'

✭ pairing(s): boothill x afab reader

✩ inspo: need him

★ summary: you can't help but notice how hot your boyfriend is at the rodeo...

✧ a/n: mmghhfhh robocock

🗒 cw: SMUT, gn! afab reader (no use of breasts), porn with plot, dry humping, cunnilingus, manhandling, overstimulation, edging, facesitting, not proofread

✎ wc: 3.8k

MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY

Dates with Boothill were few and far between, and when you two are able to have one, it’s not necessarily the most glamorous. Case in point, you were at a dingy rodeo, standing near the railings as you watched some poor soul get tossed around like a ragdoll on the bull, clutching on for dear life for only 2 seconds. As spectators cheered and hollered around you, the wranglers did their best to calm the beast down and usher it out of the ring, the announcers chatting about the performance in a language you don’t understand. Due to the rodeo’s clearly small budget, no gear had been provided for the riders, you can’t help but cringe at the thought of the possible back pain of the rider, but that fades quickly as you finally start paying attention. You could care less about the other riders, and most likely, after the next, you’d probably leave.

The next rider being Boothill. You don’t have to worry about Boothill and his gear; he’s a big boy, and he can deal. If anything were to happen, he’d just have to ask his mechanics to buff it out. It’s the last ride, and the crowd is antsy. Chatting reaches a peak around you, as the smell of alcohol becomes more prominent. Your eyes fall to the stall below you, where Boothill’s stationed, hand on the railing, chatting away with the handlers. His attention is broken for just a second, looking up at you with a cocky grin, and a tip of his hat. His eyes linger, met with a soft smile from you.

The eye contact is fleeting, however, and the announcers pull him back to focus on what’s next. They rile the crowd up, talking so fast it makes your head spin, as if you were at an auction. The only word you catch is ‘Boothill’, of course, and when you look back down at him, he’s raring to go. The minute that gate opens, he lets go of the bar, his right hand up.

The bull bucks, left, then right, right again, and into a full circle. It’s miraculous how his hat has stayed atop his head with how violently the bull is throwing him around. His chin is tucked to his chest, knees pressed against the bull, spurs digging into the bull’s ribs. Beneath the rim of his hat, you can see that cocky grin, in fact, you can almost hear his laughter under all the cheering and muttering as he makes it past 2 seconds. The wranglers pace back and forth around the bull as it jumps, another left spin. It has to be the longest 8 seconds of your life, every time the bull’s hooves touch or kick up dust, your stomach tightens. You’re undoubtedly more nervous than he is, but that feeling is soon replaced with something else.

You don’t understand why, but watching him steady while the bull thrashes about, toothy grin unwavering, heel and knees tight, something stirs within you. The whole world goes quiet as you watch intently, biting at your lip as you try and fathom how you are attracted to this. Your face flushes, the people around you are too rowdy to notice how you’ve squeezed your legs, to abate the heat forming. Luckily, that action snaps you back to reality, and as the horn sounds above you, signaling that Boothill has made it to 8 seconds, he rides out a couple more. Finally, after about another second and a half, he lets go, falling to the ground and rolling back on his feet. The bull continues to buck, and the wranglers usher it back out of the ring.

The crowd cheers and hollers as he climbs up the railings, taking his hat off and waving with a triumphant grin. Some people around you grumble and move away while the announcers try to end off the show. Boothill looks directly towards you, and you must’ve given him the look, because he gives you a sultry smirk, one that screams ‘I'm gonna get my reward’. You can even hear him say it in your head, as you try and tear your gaze away. Alas, it’s futile, cause he shoots a wink at you, before putting his hat back on and tipping it towards you again. You can’t help but stare, really. It’s only when he walks out of the ring with the wranglers that you can look away.

.  * 　　　 ✦     .     　⁺ 　 .

You meet Boothill outside of the ring, the stars above dulled by the shabby street lamps that flickered weakly. As he walks up to you, he’s thumbing through the money he’s got, grumbling something about being scammed. Yet, when he sees you, he beams, as if he hadn’t been annoyed at how little he won.

“What’s the payout?” You ask, trying to look over the cash.

“Enough for a motel,” Boothill replies quickly, moving his hands away from you as if to hide the money. “That’s all that matters.”

Despite his complaining, his tone is heavy with implications. Truth is, he could care less about the cash. He’s never around one place long enough to really need their currency; save for enough for a round of drinks or two. He was much more interested in the adrenaline rush, or the substitute of it. Boothill has always been rough n’ rowdy, he didn’t mind being thrown around, especially now. He enjoys pushing his body to his limits. But, since you’ve come into his life, there’s a new thrill added to the list. Who cares about the money when he could have his head pressed between your thighs? You knew exactly where this was going. And it’s not like you mind.

“C’mon,” Boothill jerks his head in the direction of the motel he’s got in mind, that grin never leaving his face. “There’s one close to here.” You can tell he’s eager, as much as he does his best to hide it. His hand slips around your waist, squeezing your hip gently as he ushers you away from the venue. He’s quick to pull you away from the crowd forming outside, perhaps it is to slip away from any sore losers.

You follow his lead without complaint, after all, why not indulge? A date with Boothill is rare, a night with him even rarer. You can’t reel your mind in once it’s wandered back to the sight of Boothill on the bull. You have no idea why you were entranced and why it stoked the fire low in your belly, but it’d be quelled soon enough.

As honest and sometimes discrete Boothill may be, the quick walk to the motel is filled with all sorts of lingering touches. He hooks his thumb into the waistband of your pants, teasing lightly at your hip bone. He presses himself up against your side, whispering all sorts of sweet nothings and dirty words, or what he can, at least. His goal is to make you squirm, and squirm you do. Every heavy-lidded look, every breath, it serves to fan the flames of want, of need. And by the Aeons, he’s doing it. And doing it well, at that.

By the time you two make it to the motel, you’re essentially whipped. He’s got you wrapped around his finger, and it’s hard to keep your composure for much longer. You’re a blushing mess, and you can only hope the clerk doesn’t take notice of the way you’re clinging to Boothill, the way that you avert your gaze from anyone else, even the cowboy himself. It’s not that you’re embarrassed, it’s just… a while without his touch and his time, you’ve been left empty for a long time. It’s a hunger that you can’t satiate with your hands or even toys– which feels ironic, considering the definition of Boothill’s dick was essentially a toy. But you weren’t after his dick. No, it’s his mouth you missed.

As you reminisced, you hadn’t realized he had whisked you away to the room. But, he brings you back to reality with a bruising kiss, pushing you further into the room and slamming the door behind him. His eyes are shut tight, it seems he’s more keen on satiating the heat within him then you are. He cups your face as your hands find his waist, pulling him impossibly closer. Out of instinct, he begins to grind against you, even if it does nothing to abate his own desire. Regardless, he moans into the kiss. Perhaps it was some sort of phantom feeling, chasing after something he can’t quite feel. But that didn’t matter, no, not at all. What mattered was the feeling of your lips pressed against his, the way his hands tangle into your hair and pull ever so lightly, and the way you give him another moan in response.

As you begin to lose your breath, he finally pulls away. With a half-lidded gaze, his hands drift down to your waist. Wordlessly, he pushes himself closer once more, bending down ever so slightly and wrapping his arms underneath the curve of your ass, before essentially throwing you onto the bed. You yelp when your back meets the plush mattress, bouncing back slightly as the springs squeak underneath you.

Everything he does is hasty, it’s not that he’s rushing the moment, he’s just hungry… starved. He snakes his way in between your legs, arms caging you in, placed by your waist as he finally leans back down. Boothill’s face is flushed, lips parted as he pants slightly. He takes in another heavy breath before he closes the distance between you two again. He allows no room for words, only breathy moans and whimpers. This kiss is a lot shorter, it is more like an act of devouring your lips then anything, short ragged breaths escaping from the both of you in the split seconds that your lips part. Eventually, his lips make their way from your lips, down your chin, to your neck. His teeth graze your throat, causing you to sigh softly.

Oh, how you’ve missed this feeling. The sense of desperation that fills the air as you two rut against each other, the gasps and breaths that fill the space around you. As much as the space between you two feels like it could kill you, and how those nights wishing– even praying– to have Boothill in bed with you again are agonizing, these nights where desperation reigned supreme made up for it. Where you two could be at eachothers throats, ripping each other apart, exploring every inch of skin and metal once more. The nights where Boothill sinks his teeth into every inch of skin he can see, where you’re putty in his hands. It’s wonderful, letting everything go, allowing yourself to unravel. The touch you so desperately craved, metal and skin alike, honeyed words lost into a sea of bliss.

His cold hands slide up your shirt, anchoring you back into reality for a second time. His teeth sink into the crook of your neck, letting out a low hum as you whine. You arch your hips, but he pushes them back down, running his tongue along the definition of his bite. He murmurs something against your skin, the first words since you two have entered the room, and you can’t exactly make out what it is. Something like ‘stay put’, which you oblige to, regardless. His hands knead at the flesh, trailing his tongue along your shoulder where his teeth find home once more. He groans this time, as you close your eyes and roll your head back. He doesn’t even have your shirt off and you are soaked. You try to close your legs to stave off the heat build between them, however, his legs prevent you from doing that. You whimper slightly at this, which finally draws Boothill’s attention away from your neck and shoulders. He looks down between you with a smirk, and for a moment you swear you could see his eyes lock on.

“This what ya want?” Boothill asks, pressing his body closer, grinding his groin against yours. The friction makes you groan, arching your back once more. The friction is delicious, every press of his hips against yours fanning the flames of tension. It only serves as a temporary reprieve, but it feels good. You can only nod and babble out something that sounds like a ‘yeah’, pressing your hips up against his every moment they pull away.

It’s wonderful, the way that his cock slots in between your legs, and presses up against your clit, despite the barrier. You can’t help but wrap your legs around his waist, locking him closer. In your hazy dance, you feel as if you mourn every split second his cock doesn’t press against you. He can only chuckle at your desperation, pressing increasingly more feverish kisses against your neck, sometimes sucking, sometimes biting.

Boothill is drunk off all the little sounds you make, picking up the pace of his grinding, pressing you back into the mattress. He just can’t get enough, the way you raise your hips into him, wordlessly begging for more, the taste of your skin… Aeons, you’re addicting. He could care less about how little physical gratification he gets, to have you undone beneath him already is reward enough. Every moan from you earns a grunt of appreciation from him, throwing his head back. While you miss the warmth of his mouth against your skin, you aren’t necessarily disappointed with the view from below…

The heat in between your legs hits a fever pitch as you feel a coil tighten below your stomach. Your legs squeeze against Boothill’s, shutting your eyes tight and letting out a high pitched ‘mmh!’ as a warning. Boothill takes this as a sign to stop, to toy with you. Just as you feel like you’re about to unravel, he pulls away, leaving you feeling empty. You groan and reach up for him, wiggling a little underneath him as an attempt to allow yourself to finish.

“Ah-ah-ah,” Boothill tuts, stepping back. Before you can press your legs together, he catches your thigh with his hand, squeezing and the flesh. “Gotta wait. You can do that, yeah?”

All you manage is a weak nod, wanting so desperately to beg him to let you cum. That doesn’t mean you’ll be complacent though, you know he’s missed you just as much as you have, and you know he’s rather… impulsive. All you have to do is moan a little louder, say his name in a sweeter way, and you’ll have him weak in the knees. You’re so sure of it.

As you hatch your plan, Boothill takes his sweet time getting himself ready. He takes off his hat, setting it on the bedside table, before climbing up onto the bed. His knees pressed against your hips, stradling you. He’s got his cocky grin plastered to his face once more, eyes half-lidded and hazy as he looks down at your flushed face. You prop yourself up on your elbows, a silent challenge as you shift beneath him. His grin turns sultry, leaning his head down and meeting your lips. It’s a chaste kiss, somehow softer from the hungry kisses from early, and he pulls away all too soon.

He doesn’t leave you wanting this time, though. You can tell by the way his eyebrows are barely furrowed, the way he starts chewing on his lip, and the slight narrow in his eyes that, good Aeons, he just cannot wait. That, and, the very obvious tent in his pants. Sure, he’s not adorned with the most ‘human’ bits, but he told the mechanic to make sure ‘it worked juuuust right’. But that’s not the focus here, no, the way he’s sliding down between your body, practically drooling as his head rests on your thigh.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon…” Boothill grumbles as he fumbles with the button on your jeans. It takes him a full second to undo them, sliding them down to your ankles. You wiggle them off, just as he decides he’s too impatient and presses his mouth to your underwear, tongue flat against your pussy. You let out a stifled moan, hand instinctively tangling within his hair.

Boothill’s eyes flicker up to you, then close, his hands sliding up and anchoring you in place by your hips. He noses at your clit, lapping up whatever he can between your legs. He could care less about the barrier, really, you can feel his teeth grazing your clit every once in a while, which adds a whole new thrill to this experience as is. He wouldn’t bite, as he is prone to, he knows better.

In between hurried licks and sloppy sucks, getting what he can even through the barrier, he presses gentle kisses to your thighs, sometimes licking along your stretch marks. He does this to prolong the experience, granting himself some restraint, no matter how badly he wants to make you cum over and over and over in his mouth. You can tell how hard he’s trying to hold back, his fingertips digging into the plush of your hips, small exasperated grunts found their way in between his ministrations.

You tug on his hair softly, thighs pressed against either side of his face. He looks beautiful like this, face squished between your thighs, eyes closed, mouth open as he laps at your clothed folds. It’s a sight to behold, truly. Every lick causes you to whine, the rough feeling of your underwear pressing against you, pushing just a little further. His breath fans against your pussy, soft grunts and groans escaping his lips, providing a delicious vibrating sensation against your heat.

You feel the coil tightening once more, and silently pray to Lan that he won’t stop in your hazy mind. Your moans increase, letting out soft, high-pitched noises, tugging at his hair slightly. Boothill lets out a low, raspy laugh, hands pulling you closer harshly as if you weren’t close enough. He doesn’t pull away this time, lapping at your underwear at a near crazed pace, like he needs you to cum. And cum you do, your body arching as you dig your nails into his scalp, whimpering out his name.

He laps up your release, or what he can, growing increasingly agitated at what little he can taste through your underwear. Only then does he finally peel away the barrier, his fingers almost too quick. If he was still human, he’d be shaking. He is too quick to claim his place back at your pussy, his licks sloppy and greedy as he claims his prize. Each stripe licked up against your drooling pussy sends a tingling feeling up your spine, making you whine and try and push his head away. But he doesn’t stop.

When your thighs squeeze against his face, as if trying to block him away from such a precious well of ambrosia, his hands fall from your hips, snaking in between your thighs and pushing them open. He pants against your pussy, his warm breath fanning over it, causing you to shiver. You feel like you are… at his mercy, even if you’ve only came once. It is not a bad feeling, you yourself know you are putty in his hands, and he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

However, it seems Boothill is now unsatisfied with this position. He pulls away from you reluctantly, pushing you up further on the bed, and shimmying his way up onto the bed fully. Before you can even ask what he’s doing, he grabs you by the hips and rolls you over so you were on top of him, hauling you down easily. His mouth finds purchase on your pussy so easily, lapping at it eagerly.

You don’t dare to even move, simply arching your back as you press your hands into his abdomen to keep yourself up. All sorts of lewd noises come from his throat as he continues his ministrations, staring right up at you with a near challenging look. He alternates between licking and suckling on your clit, hungry growls filling the space in between grunts as if having you press flush against his mouth was not enough.

You can feel overstimulation creep up on you, while his actions don’t hurt, it’s starting to tingle a little, providing a comfortably numb feeling alongside the pleasure that wells between your legs once more. Your body heats up more than you thought it could, and slowly your hips follow Boothill’s tongue. It’s not long until you start to grind against his mouth fully, his nose notching against your clit when he wasn’t sucking on it.

“Ya forkin’ like that?” Boothill asks, muffled, before diving back in once more, his hands pulling your hips down even more, pressing you into his mouth. “F-Fudge… So gosh dang good…”

You’d be poking fun at his censorship, but you just can’t help the moans that roll off your tongue. You can’t help but chase after it, your orgasm already gripping you. Your thighs tense and you groan, rolling your head back and cumming onto Boothill’s tongue once more. But he wasn’t done. Your hips jolt as his eating becomes even more hungry, sloppy, the need to ravage you taking hold. What a beautiful aphrodisiac you are, how he would love to drown in between your thighs.

But you stop him from that dream, unfortunately. The numb feeling gave way to an odd hurt, something that felt almost electric. Your hips buck as your body tenses, doing what you can to pull away from Boothill’s iron grip. Eventually, he loosens, his hands coming down onto your thighs, and you raise your pussy from his lips. Slimy tendrils of spit and slick connect his mouth to you, his chin covered in your slick. He grins up at you, eyes practically sparkling.

“M’sorry,” He starts, squeezing your thighs. “Taste too good. Got ahead of m’self.”

You can’t help but admire the sight beneath you, Boothill’s flushed face, happy as can be, as if he had just won the world. Before he lets you go, he leans in, pressing a heated kiss to your clit, pulling back. He changes his mind quickly though, now peppering your folds with more kisses until you shuffle off of him. At that, he lets out a low, mock annoyed groan, before sitting back up.

You sit on his stomach, your slick painting his abdomen, your ass pressed up against the erection pressing against his tight jeans. He doesn’t move to relieve it, he could really care less about it. He’d already taken what he wanted– more like what he deserved– and he was sated. Unless you were game to give him more…

© sentoooo, 2024 | masterlist | kofi | star header by roseschoices | sfw blog DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN, REPOST ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[mcgrammar04]

A PROMISE IN THE DARK

Aegon Targaryen x Reader

Summary: After enduring relentless cruelty from your family and betrothed, Aegon Targaryen, you break down one night, revealing the depth of your suffering. Aegon, moved by your pain, vows to protect and care for you. He exiles your abusive family and forces them to apologize, marking the start of your healing journey.

You lived in a world of silence, a place where your voice had long been stolen by the cruelty of those meant to protect you. Your family’s abuse had silenced you so thoroughly that you could only communicate through your eyes and your silent tears. The betrothal to Aegon Targaryen was supposed to be a chance for a new beginning, but instead, it became a new source of torment.

Aegon, with his royal air and a crown that should have symbolized justice, became a new tormentor in your already painful existence. He found cruel amusement in your silence, often mocking you in front of others. His words were like daggers, each one aimed at the heart of your already fragile sense of self-worth.

"You know, it’s quite amusing," Aegon would sneer, his eyes glinting with malice, "how you choose not to speak. It must be quite a skill to pretend to be so superior just by keeping your mouth shut."

His jabs were relentless. His laughter echoed through the halls of the castle, a constant reminder that your suffering was entertainment for him. Each day, you tried to shield yourself from his barbs, but they were like relentless arrows, piercing through your defenses.

The nights were the worst. When the castle’s corridors fell silent, you would sit alone in your room, clutching a faded piece of fabric that once belonged to your mother. It was the only remnant of the warmth and love you had known before your family’s abuse drove you into this cruel new reality.

Your family’s abuse had been systematic, a steady erosion of your spirit. They had isolated you, belittled you, and made you feel as though you were nothing more than a burden. They had taken away your voice, your confidence, and most painfully, your sense of belonging. When Aegon came into your life, it was meant to be a rescue, a chance to escape the shadows of your past. Instead, he became a new source of pain, a mirror reflecting all the harshness you had endured.

But there were moments, rare and fleeting, when Aegon’s gaze softened, when his cruelty was replaced by something like curiosity. It was on one such evening that you felt the strain of your silent existence come to a breaking point. The castle’s grand hall was filled with laughter and conversation, a stark contrast to the oppressive quiet of your own life. Aegon had been in particularly high spirits that night, mocking you with a cruel jest that drew laughter from his courtiers.

“Do you not think you’re depriving yourself of so much by remaining silent?” Aegon’s voice rang out. “How can you bear to miss all this? Perhaps your silence is the result of some deep-seated fear, or maybe you simply enjoy being the center of everyone’s attention through your absence of words.”

The jest was met with laughter, and you felt the familiar flush of humiliation. But tonight, something inside you snapped. The weight of his words, the weight of your family’s cruelty, the weight of your own isolation, all crashed down upon you. You felt as though you were drowning in a sea of despair, and you couldn’t hold on any longer.

As Aegon continued his mocking, you felt a tight knot of emotion form in your chest. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, and you could no longer hold back the tears. You collapsed onto the cold stone floor, your body shaking uncontrollably. The laughter of the courtiers faded into a distant murmur as the overwhelming sensation of pain and sorrow consumed you.

Aegon’s laughter died abruptly as he saw you break down. For the first time, he was confronted with the full extent of your suffering. His eyes widened in shock, the cruel mask slipping away to reveal a flicker of concern. He knelt beside you, his usual arrogance replaced by a raw, genuine emotion.

“What is happening?” Aegon’s voice was softer now, tinged with something like fear. “Why are you—”

The words caught in your throat, unable to escape past the storm of emotions. You looked up at him, your eyes brimming with tears. It was then that Aegon saw not just your silent suffering but the story behind it, the profound depth of your pain. The realization of what he had been complicit in hit him with a crushing force.

Aegon took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “I didn’t know,” he murmured, his voice filled with a newfound understanding. “I never realized...”

He helped you to your feet with a tenderness that was foreign to him. The harshness in his gaze had been replaced by a solemn determination. “I am truly sorry,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “I didn’t understand the depth of your suffering. I never meant for you to be subjected to this. I promise you, I will make it right.”

The promise was more than words; it was a vow of change. Aegon’s eyes were filled with a mixture of guilt and resolve. “You will be cared for and protected,” he continued, his tone firm. “And as for your family, they will face justice. They will be held accountable for their cruelty.”

You could scarcely believe the transformation in Aegon. The man who had once mocked you now seemed genuinely committed to making amends. He left the chamber, his footsteps echoing with purpose as he began to set things in motion.

In the days that followed, Aegon kept his word. Your family was summoned to the castle, their expressions a mix of fear and defiance. When they arrived, they were forced to kneel before you in the grand hall, their arrogance stripped away by the gravity of their situation.

“Beg for forgiveness,” Aegon commanded, his voice resonating with authority. “You will apologize for every moment of pain you’ve inflicted. Only then will you face the consequences of your actions.”

Your family’s once imperious demeanor crumbled as they knelt before you, their faces contorted with shame and fear. They begged for your forgiveness, their pleas echoing through the hall. Aegon’s gaze remained steely as he observed the scene, his resolve unwavering.

“From this day forth,” Aegon declared, “you will be exiled from everything you have ever known. You will live in isolation, removed from the society you once dominated. It is the least you deserve for the suffering you have caused.”

As your family was led away, you felt a mixture of relief and sorrow. The justice served was necessary, but it came at a cost. The wounds of the past would take time to heal, but with Aegon’s newfound understanding and commitment, there was a glimmer of hope for the future.

In the quiet that followed, Aegon approached you once more. His demeanor had softened, and there was a genuine compassion in his eyes. “You have suffered too much,” he said gently. “I promise that from now on, I will be your protector. I will ensure that you are loved and cared for, and that no one will ever hurt you again.”

The sincerity in his voice offered a fragile hope. Though the path ahead would be difficult, Aegon’s pledge to protect and cherish you gave you a new reason to believe in a brighter future. The journey to healing was just beginning, but for the first time in a long while, you felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, you could find solace and a new sense of belonging in the midst of this tumultuous world.

[crushmeeren]

Bakugou/Fem Reader/Kirishima

☠ Master List Link

Warnings; some mild descriptions of fighting/being in pain, brief mentions of blood, cursing, praise/reader is called a good girl, oral sex, mating press

☠ Everyone involved is 18+/aged up

It’s boiling.

Fucking sweltering.

Your eyes snap open, the stifling heat stirring you into a reluctant form of consciousness.

You glance down, only to be met with a face full of damp red hair that could only belong to your boyfriend Eijirou.

Who apparently has taken it upon himself to use your shoulder as a pillow.

The man is a goddamn furnace.

Of course, you’re privy as to why he’s so feverish. It’s the same burning itch that lurks just below the surface of your own skin.

This past week you’ve been counting down the days until the full moon — and there’s only one left.

Plus, it’s only Eijirou’s third time dealing with his shift — so his control over his body is shaky at best.

Katsuki being the pack leader, has much more experience and insight dealing with the shift than you do.

Hence the reason you’ve all made sure he’ll be home tomorrow night to ensure it goes smoothly.

Groaning, you unstick yourself from the entirely too sweaty body clinging to you. Your nose scrunches in discomfort as you unwind the hefty weight of Eijirou’s arm from your waist and untangle your legs.

You shove at Eijirou’s shoulder, mumbling for him to get his heavy ass off.

Said man doesn’t stir, softly sighing and turning over to face the wall.

Limbs sluggish with sleep you push up onto your elbows, then up until you’re sitting on your butt.

You kick off the suffocating covers and lean backwards onto the headboard in hopes for better airflow to cool off.

It would be unbelievably helpful to have Todoroki’s quirk right now.

You decide to study the room to distract yourself, admiring the way the moonlight has bled in. Illuminating certain shapes as you bask in the peaceful stillness of the night.

It’s not as if the darkness hinders you either way. Seeing as your eyesight is just as sharp in the night.

What with your…..condition.

Using the back of your hand to wipe the sweat off of your forehead your thoughts trail to Katsuki. Curious as to how his patrol is fairing.

You lean over and tap the screen of your phone where it rests on your side table.

The light from the screen is on the edge of blinding, making you wince and partially shield your eyes.

Why the fuck do I keep it so bright?

You fumble to put it in dark mode, reading the last vague and aggressive message Katsuki sent.

Katsuki 🧡

“I’d rather chew off my own motherfucking arm than be on patrol with icy hot right now.”

A startled bark of laughter pushes past your lips.

Eijirou shifts restlessly behind you, but you pay him no mind. He tosses and turns frequently in his sleep this close to shifting.

You read over the text again. You know Katsuki doesn’t mean that. He and Todoroki are fairly decent friends these days.

You reply swiftly.

After setting your phone down and scooting underneath the blankets, you promptly flop onto your back in an attempt to get comfortable.

You debate whether or not to cuddle up to Eijirou, but decide against it. Waking up drenched in sweat does not appeal to you.

As you start to drift off, the rhythmic lull of crickets outside your window helps your mind quiet once again. Lids drooping as your breathing begins to even out.

Crack.

You blink a few times in rapid succession, instantly on guard. You cautiously stay still, ears twitching and listening for the familiar sound.

Crack.

A blistering chill rushes through your blood as you recognize the unwanted tell tale sound of bones breaking.

Crack. Snap!

Your pulse jackrabbits so violently your heart may bruise your rib cage.

Please for the love of God don’t let this be what I think it is. The full moon isn’t until tomorrow night!

Eijirou suddenly cries out. A keening, wounded noise that’s wrenched from the pits of his chest.

Before you can register it, you’re sitting up straight. Spine stiffening as you turn and watch Eijirou with mounting horror.

It’s not unlike witnessing twin snakes slithering, shifting urgently as Eijirou’s own spine breaks and rearranges for a body that’s far less human.

“Ei,” you whisper frantically, by his side in an instant. Your chest squeezes, adrenaline forcing the hair on your arms to stand on end. You shake his shoulder roughly, brushing the hair that’s sticking to his forehead away with your free hand. “Eijirou.”

He whines a jumbled version of your name before going stock still. You freeze alongside him, hyper aware of your shuddering exhales.

Dread settles over you, stomach dropping as you listen to Eijirou’s newly forming claws rip and shred the sheet next to him.

A low rumble starts up in his chest, slowly clawing its way up to emanate from his throat.

Your stomach knots up realizing it’s too late for you to help him keep even a sliver of coherence through this.

Your fingers unwillingly twitch where they’re tangled in Eijirou’s hair. His growl intensifies, a stiff warning embedded in it.

Hands shaking, you carefully shift your gaze down to his side profile, catching the untamed fury twisting his features.

It’s abhorrent and unnatural the way it replaces his normal cheerfulness.

The sudden fierce instinctive urge to fight Eijirou knocks around inside your mind so roughly you get lightheaded.

Eijirou’s already side eyeing you menacingly. His iris glows a pale yellow rather than the cherry red it usually is.

There’s a few seconds of silence, tension suffocating as you weigh your only two options.

Fight or flight?

With no hesitation, you lunge towards the side table closest to you. Barely managing to grab your phone as you start launching to your feet to get away.

Eijirou’s claws sink in brutally, taking a decent chunk from your outer thigh as you skirt out of his deadly range.

The explosive searing sensation of your flesh ripping wrenches all the air from your lungs.

Crimson sprays the otherwise pristine sheets as you stagger upright to your feet.

You whip around with a snarl that bounces off your bedroom walls. Anger making your entire body flash white hot.

The instinctual pulse to return the favor and give Eijirou a nasty scar is all consuming and you know your own eyes are flashing yellow.

Eijirou leaps towards you without missing a beat and you all but sprint through the door. Slamming it shut and twisting the lock right as the redhead rams into it.

It locks from the outside for a reason.

You stumble forward, struggling to ignore the borderline unbearable pain lancing through your leg and place a hand on the couch to steady yourself.

Your mind races, warm liquid trailing from your wound down your leg and pooling between your toes. You want to gag.

You can’t fucking think straight.

You squeeze your eyes shut. Taking a singular fortifying breath as you clench your phone in a fist.

The sides start to give and it reminds you not to obliterate the thing, as well as why you snagged it in the first place — to text Katsuki so you have a chance in hell of coming out this night alive.

With trembling hands you text the blonde a short yet urgent message.

Eijirou is shifting. 911. Hurry.

A deafening bang makes you jump a foot into the air, nails automatically sharpening into points.

You chance a peak at the door. Fear prickles at the base of your skull as the behemoth on the other side splinters it down the middle.

You briefly recall when Eijirou turned 21, shifting for the first time.

It was only a mere three months ago. He was the last one out of the three of you to do so, but he wasn’t as violent as he is now.

It was messy and there were a lot of tears, but you’d trade this scenario for that one in a heartbeat.

Shifting is always erratic in the beginning, but you were sure Eijirou would be the more laid back type.

Apparently not.

You shake your head to clear the unhelpful memories when Eijirou’s frustrated howl cuts through them.

You glance at the front door with a scowl. You can’t very well go outside and take a half shifted, out of control werewolf into the neighborhood.

You’re not even wearing any damn pants.

You veto the forest as an option as well. Mainly because Katsuki will inevitably find you and Eijirou torn to pieces before the sun rises.

Steeling your resolve, you submit to the fact that you’ll have to put up as much of a fight against Eijirou as you’re able to until Katsuki saves you.

The deep gashes in your thigh scream in protest when you shuffle behind the coffee table, placing the couch and it between you and the door.

You preemptively mourn the loss of your phone and toss it aside, bracing yourself in a defensive stance.

Bam! Bam! Bam!

Any second now.

The door is on its last legs.

One more heave and it splits entirely, debris flying in all directions. Eijirou forces his body through the opening, face distorted, half shifted with claws and fangs to match.

He snarls furiously when his gaze lands on your defensive form. You return the sentiment, making him aware you’re challenging him.

The icy sensation of fear continues to rush through your limbs, mixing dangerously with a barely suppressed fury that you’re unable to ignore.

You curse any and everything known to mankind and pray you’re able to keep him contained until Katsuki arrives.

Biting the bullet you take a running start towards Eijirou, sidestepping the coffee table. You’re hell bent on getting the first punch in.

His reflexes mirror yours. Using the backrest of the couch to jump and propel himself at you like a shot.

The collision is excruciating. One of your ribs has cracked from the force — you’re sure of it.

Eijirou’s got enough weight on you that the impact sends you both careening backwards, slamming onto the coffee table before rolling off with a thump as you connect with the ground.

Eijirou crushes you when you land and you shove a palm into his cheek and wrench his head to the side.

You desperately sink your teeth into the muscle where Eijirou’s neck meets his shoulder, hoping the pain will allow him to snap out of it.

He wails, the sound distorted from mutating vocal chords. He thrashes in your grip. Tearing away and ripping his flesh in the process.

The metallic scent chokes you. Blood is splattered everywhere, and your brain is starting to get fuzzy a long the edges as you lose yourself to the wolf.

Somehow, you’re able to tuck your feet under Eijirou’s stomach. Pressing into the firm muscle there and sending him flying.

You scramble to your feet, crouching low. Your upper lip raises to bare your teeth, aiming a violent snarl at Eijirou. The red head is on his hands and knees in an instant.

You’re royally pissed — and simultaneously terrified.

You don’t want to endure this atrocious situation any longer than absolutely necessary.

Sucking air back into your lungs your chest heaves, eyes fluttering shut before refocusing on Eijirou with intensity.

Like a mantra, you repeat to yourself just survive until Katsuki is here. Just survive until Katsuki is here.

You and Eijirou once again morph into a mess of blood and punches and viscious bites, hanging onto your consciousness by a thread.

✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃

Your head pounds. Wickedly throbbing in time with your heartbeat. Your brain seems to stick to the insides of your skull.

The wind whistles softly around you, tickling your skin and you realize you’re outside. Naked.

Peeling your eyes open, the cloudless blue sky burns as it peaks through the tree tops. You blink a few times to clear your blurry vision, shifting slightly on your back.

You’re positive you must’ve been run over by a truck. The all over bone deep ache is proof by itself.

Sighing, you concede to the soreness that begs you to keep lounging on the ground. Joints creaking when you bend your elbow, you brush over the close to healed claw marks on your thigh.

The wound smarts, a searing heat flaring down your leg.

Fuck Eijirou, you really did a number on me.

You go limp, melting into the soft grass and damp top layer of soil for a bit longer.

Bits and pieces of your memory spring to the forefront as you contemplate the utter bullshit you had to deal with the night before.

Katsuki appearing like a bat out of hell when he burst through the door and rescued you from certain doom.

Eijirou completing his shift and settling into the form of a beautiful russet colored wolf.

Katsuki’s carmine eyes aglow as he and Eijirou duked it out — until he was able to corral the other down into the basement.

Katsuki had locked the door with finality, and you knew you wouldn’t see either of them for hours.

You remember shivering with rage, bloody and damn near beaten to a pulp. Pulling splinters from way too many sensitive areas.

You had taken off into the woods right after, bearing the excruciating shift and running for miles as the wolf.

Now, here you are.

Naked and internally debating with yourself to get the hell up and make the horrendous trek back to your home.

Honestly, you don’t want to see either of them right now. Eijirou will be distraught with guilt and it’s just —

You’re still irate about the entire ordeal.

You curse aloud, pushing to your feet at a snails pace. Gently stretching and taking note of the new bruises you’re sporting.

There’s a lot of dried blood.

A lot.

✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃

Once you make it back into your living room, you’re not at all shocked to see the mess from the night before had miraculously disappeared.

The pathetic remains of the bedroom door have been taken away. All the blood has been cleaned.

At least your coffee table survived the battle.

You sigh in relief. Thank God for Katsuki, he would never dream of leaving a crime scene behind.

Sniffing the air, the familiar scents of your partners have gone stale. They must not have wanted to linger, opting to give you some space.

You’re grateful. As it allows you time to shower and sleep.

You scrub your skin under the spray of hot water. Collecting your thoughts as you comb the birds nest that has become your hair. Wincing each time you press too hard on a bruise or soap stings your wounds.

Hopefully you’ll be mostly healed by the time you wake up.

A soft warmth blooms in your chest when you reach your bed.

Eijirou has left you one of his T-shirts to wear and Katsuki’s favorite blanket is tangled in with the others.

And one of them had found your missing phone, placing it on the charger and letting it rest on the side table.

You’re a zombie slipping into Eijirou’s too large shirt. The thinning, worn, and soft material brushes your thighs.

When you lay down, you bring the collar of Eijirou’s shirt to your nose, inhaling deeply and letting the scent of fresh rainfall wash over you.

You pull Katsuki’s blanket up over your shoulders. The sweet smell of orange and cinnamon fills your senses, relaxing you entirely.

You’re out like a light before you know it.

✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃

They come home late into the afternoon. Obnoxiously loud and cheerful — at least on Eijirou’s part.

Your stomach clenches as their voices grow closer.

You’ve been resting as much as possible, cuddled up and barely paying attention to the movie flickering across the screen.

You’d taken the past few hours to reflect. As you cooled off you knew it wasn’t really Eijirou’s fault, that he was just as petrified as you had been.

It’s not as if you’d never gone off the deep end in the beginning, and Eijirou was there for you. With no hesitation.

You made up your mind that reconciling with Eijirou was your first priority when they returned.

Eijirou passes through the makeshift curtain door first. His eyes get comically large, footsteps halting when he spots you.

The short silence is unpleasant, and Eijirou shifts his weight nervously from foot to foot. Unsure of what he should do next.

You offer him an awkward, tight lipped smile, along with a small wave and his tense composure disintegrates.

Within the second he’s making haste to crawl up on the bed and get to you.

All the built up frustration bubbles to the surface, stinging the backs of your eyes as you fist the blanket.

“Baby,” Eijirou breathes, voice cracking as you sit up and slip your arms around his neck when he reaches you.

He tugs you close, clinging to your waist with one arm and cradling the base of your skull with his free hand to keep you in place.

You swallow a lump, inhaling against the skin of his throat deeply as he manages to make you feel safe and relieved.

“I’m so sorry baby, I’m so fucking sorry,” he croaks. You’re concerned he may start crying.

You nod jerkily, gripping him tighter. You hate the way his voice shakes as he apologizes.

This wasn’t his fault and you’re determined to make sure he knows that.

“It’s okay Ei. I know baby, I know. This isn’t on you, okay?” You reassure him, voice watery with emotion.

Eijirou chokes out an acknowledgement, sniffling.

Katsuki then takes a seat on the bed behind you, rubbing a warm palm back and forth between your shoulder blades in comfort. He places a soft kiss to the back of your neck.

The three of you sit there and hash out the night before. Spending a good half hour at least, talking through everything. Brainstorming ways to prevent this from occurring again.

The conversation eventually trails off into a comfortable silence before Katsuki opens his mouth.

“You take off into the woods last night?” Katsuki asks somberly.

“Yeah.”

Your response gets muffled by Eijirou’s shirt. Katsuki snorts.

“Well, you sure as hell look like it,” he jokes, trying to lighten the mood. It works.

You whip your head around to glare daggers at Katsuki but he’s giving you a teasing smile, nudging you playfully.

You punch his stomach halfheartedly, unable to stop your lips from turning upwards.

“Whatever, dickpunch.”

Eijirou laughs, causing Katsuki to roll his eyes and chuckle at your childish insult.

You study Eijirou rubbing his cheek as you recline into Katsuki’s chest, his soothing warmth seeping through both your shirts.

“So are you really okay?” Eijirou prods, scratching the side of his nose and looking away with a frown.

“I’m fine Ei,” you murmur tenderly. You stretch your leg out, showing him the side of your thigh where the marks have mostly faded. “See? It’s just a scar now, which will go away soon.” You poke his ribs with your toes.

Eijirou’s expression spells relief as he brushes the pads of his fingertips feather light over the raised pinkish skin.

You shiver from the ticklish sensation, a flash of arousal burning your lower belly.

Eijirou’s eyes are warm when they meet yours, lids drooping a bit when he notices your shiver.

The blonde must have picked up on the new charge in the atmosphere, because Katsuki leans in close to whisper something sultry in your ear, making you jolt.

“What do you think baby?” Katsuki hums, securing an arm around your waist. “Eijirou’s been so fucking bad, we should punish him. Don’t you think?” He suggests enticingly, acting as the devil on your shoulder.

You glance back at the redhead, who’s gone slack jawed, cheeks flushing bubblegum pink. Your eyebrow twitches as you pretend to mull it over.

Trailing your eyes up and down Eijirou’s figure lazily, he fidgets in place, fingers curling into the hem of his shorts.

You think it’s the perfect way to get things back to normal.

You tilt your head, making heated eye contact with Katsuki. A coy grin lights up your face.

“What did you have in mind?”

The mischievous glint in Katsuki’s eye is answer enough.

✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃

“Fuck! Katsuki, oh god,” you gasp, breath hitching in your throat.

Katsuki’s eagerly pushing his thick cock into your pussy, spitting out a few curses as he does so.

The stretch is delicious, and you squeeze his forearms mercilessly. Nails creating indentations as he teasingly pulls back until just the head remains, rolling his hips and filling you to the brim with one fluid motion.

Your spine arches, skull digging into the mattress below as Katsuki starts thrusting at a leisurely pace, thumb coming up to work slow circles into your clit.

At this angle, you have an upside down view of Eijirou sitting behind you, reclining halfway up against the headboard.

Katsuki took it upon himself to spread you out flat on your back between the redhead’s thighs.

He taunted Eijirou with an arrogant smirk. Meanly instructing him he isn’t allowed to cum until you and Katsuki do.

Katsuki demands Eijirou only touch you if you initiate it first. And you agreed.

So for now, Eijirou’s pouting. Settling on wrapping one hand around the base of his cock, stroking slowly as he leers at the scene in front of him. Trying to avoid splitting his lip with razor sharp teeth.

You’re able to meet his hungry gaze briefly, before fingers are gripping your chin and yanking you from the gorgeous view.

“Don’t fucking look at Ei. He’s in trouble, remember?” Katsuki huffs, a bead of sweat trailing from his temple down to his jaw. “Keep those eyes on me.” Katsuki says firmly, voice raspy and low.

You nod stiffly, whimpering when he releases you and pats your cheek just this side of too rough.

“You follow orders so well, what a good girl,” Katsuki praises, leaning back and sitting on his calves.

His sweet words have your head filled with cotton.

You lick your chapped bottom lip as you’re blessed with the view of Katsuki’s lower stomach flexing and his hips tensing.

The blonde shoots Eijirou a nasty grin, making absolutely sure Eijirou can watch everything.

Like the way the inner lips of your pussy stretch with Katsuki’s cock every time he thrusts backwards.

Or the way you can tell his cock is shiny with your slick each time he pulls out.

Katsuki grips the bottoms of your thighs, effortlessly pushing them towards your chest, bending you in half.

You cry out, eyes going wide when Katsuki suddenly nails your sweet spot. The pleasure blisters through your limbs, goosebumps littering your arms.

Blindly, you reach backwards, searching for Eijirou’s hands.

The redhead lets out a breathy moan, quickly lacing your fingers together and resting your conjoined hands on his thighs.

“You can only fucking touch her hands Ei. Don’t push it.” Katsuki warns with a surprisingly steady, yet strained voice. Considering he’s fucking you like he’s trying to make you scream yourself hoarse.

“Yes Katsuki,” Eijirou replies obediently, throat clicking audibly when he swallows.

Katsuki presses closer, pupils dilated and jaw hanging open as he brings you closer to that addictive high. His eyebrows pinch together as he focuses on you.

Shocks of pleasure race up your spine each time he pushes his cock back inside you, the sound of your skin smacking together burning your ears.

A coil starts to wind up behind your belly button impossibly tight, pussy clenching around him rhythmically.

You hold Eijirou’s hands in a death grip.

“Kat, I — fuck! I’m gonna cum,” you manage to spit out between gritted teeth, back threatening to lift off the mattress.

“Yeah?” Katsuki coos teasingly. “Fucking cum for me then.”

And you do. Muscles going taught, tension snapping as warmth gushes through you, toes curling.

You can’t make out what Eijirou’s mumbling behind you, focused on the way Katsuki’s gasping your name.

The blonde lets out a breathy moan, pulling out and stroking his cock twice before he cums, covering your stomach in sticky white ribbons.

You go lax, unmoving as your legs hit the mattress. Trying desperately to catch your breath as Eijirou let’s go of your hands.

“Fuck, please let me cum Katsuki! This isn’t fair!” Eijirou whines, one of his knees knocking you in the shoulder as he shifts his weight around.

You can’t see him but you know he’s pouting.

“Alright Eijirou, you can cum,” Katsuki says nonchalantly. He sits back on his calves, flushed chest heaving.

You flip over onto your belly just as Eijirou takes a hold of himself. He strokes his cock a few times, squirming with relief and you make the choice to help him out.

Eijirou’s close to peaking when you close the distance between you.

You duck your head, wrapping your lips around one of his balls and suck it softly into your mouth, flicking it with your tongue. You roll the other one between your fingers.

Eijirou yelps, thighs jumping as he cums instantly, making a mess of his stomach as his breath stutters in his chest. He tilts his head back with a high pitched moan.

Katsuki makes an approving sound from somewhere behind you as you keep mouthing at Eijirou, only backing off when the redhead pushes at your forehead when he gets too sensitive.

Eijirou sinks down the headboard, blushing brightly and panting. You pillow your cheek on his thigh, eyes fluttering shut with a sigh.

Eventually, Katsuki kicks both your asses into gear. Getting you off the bed and shuffled into the shower to clean yourselves off.

You change the sheets because they’re fucking gross — as Katsuki puts it.

As you’re getting dressed again, Eijirou comes up behind you. Slipping his arms around your waist in a sweet hug.

“Everything fucking sorted now?” Katsuki asks with a roll of his eyes, arms crossed over his chest as he leans his hip on the doorframe. He eyes the embrace you’re locked in and raises an eyebrow.

“Course! Everything’s peachy,” Eijirou replies happily, nuzzling the back of your head as a low rumble starts up in his chest.

You snicker, patting one of the arms holding you.

“Good, because I don’t feel like getting my ass handed to me again,” you say playfully.

Eijirou laughs brightly and Katsuki snorts.

“Don’t worry baby, I’m locking his dumbass in the basement tonight.”

[takes1]

I NEED MORE GYM BROS KIRISHIMA AND READER

thank you so much!! this is a fav of mine. i've had like half of this written for a whole year and lost motivation for it. picked it back up a few days ago and i'm rlly excited to post! soft end, so if anyone has suggestions for continuation, i can keep it going.

warnings. nsfw, safe sex, f! receiving oral, big fingers, sharp teeth, size kink

details. nsfw / rough sex / gymbros with benefits / aged up!kiri / fem!reader / mentions of f! masturbation / f! rec oral / clumsy kiri / aftercare, cuddling / mutual size kink / shy reader / support course student!reader / scars thirst / sharp teeth thirst / 2.8k words

🤍 scenario series. part one thru three + more here / kiri headcanons

more links. my ao3. request box is: open!

As soon as the door clicked shut, a calloused hand first draped your thigh over his other leg, then wasted no time to palm your cunt.

"Fuck," He sighed against your mouth to look down at his soaked hand.

It was totally his fault with the leg thing-- embarrassed, you pushed his hand back down and felt warm at his chuckle.

He slid his fingers under your useless panties, eliciting a very sharp, closed-mouth moan and another squirm. He locked you back into his chest.

No guy had spent so much time on you before. Kirishima seemed to get his kicks by pleasing you instead. His habit of waiting around to pull his dick out was a new concept, but you really liked it.

Still, that empty feeling in you was only heightened by his careful attention to your clit, and messy smattering of kisses over the side of your face and neck.

Your hand was already shaking on the back of his hand as he pushed his middle and ring finger into you, smooth and slow with the help of your own lubrication.

"Mmmh- Aah," You scratched on his already heavily scarred knuckles, breathless at how much bigger his fingers were than yours.

"That feel okay?"

His breath brushed by your cheek before he pressed a soft kiss to it. You gave a whimpery, 'Mhm' and completely missed his mouth when you tried to kiss him.

Thankfully, he had no problem holding you by the back of the neck to help -and to keep you still when you tried to pull away-. He lapped up every choked sound and broken phrase that left your lips.

"You're so cute," He muttered, done with keeping you hostage in more drawn-out, clumsy kisses, and pressed his forehead hard into your temple.

The compliment went straight to the tightness forming in your stomach. You squeezed around him, goosebumps formed in your skin.

"Please, just fuck me already," You struggled to get out.

Your head hit his shoulder with the focus it took to not cum around his hand.

The laughter of the man under you made your entire body shake with him. Based on his reaction, you thought he might say no, but were relieved to hear a smiley:

"Yes, ma'am."

Ma'am? He was full of funny names and habits for you.

Once again, that terrible, empty sensation came back tenfold when he took his fingers out in order to carry you over to his bed. He would've rather fucked you on the desk, but the height difference would've made it incredibly inconvenient.

Your back was still to him when he set you down. You slid your arms up so your chest was pressed on his already fucked up sheets. He hiked his shirt up to give your ass a few lovetaps but stopped all too soon.

"You just sit there, nice and pretty for me."

When he saw you poke your head up to watch him root around in his bedside table drawer, he bit the inside of his cheek and palmed a painful throb away.

The sight of a few condoms made you feel a little ashamed that it had completely slipped your mind.

You slid so you could lay on your stomach, heels locked together in the air, and watch him start to tug on his waistband, finally.

A straight-up monster bounced up from his sweatpants, so heavy it looked like it weighed itself away from where it would usually sit closer to his stomach.

You blinked at the slight bend in it and what looked like a scar underneath, then lowered your open mouth to bite your forearm.

He acted like he wasn't looking at your reaction while he plucked a condom from the drawer, but would sometimes glance and never fail to see you still gawking.

"How big is that...?" You whispered. Your eyes were starting to burn from not blinking. Maybe you should've let him stretch you out more.

Kirishima stroked his tortured cock again with a bashful smile, "I-I'm not sure, I've never measured."

You pushed yourself up onto your elbows and sat on your heels to make grabby hands at him.

"Let me hold it."

It was only right to let you feel on him, he concluded after a moment's hesitation.

He was such a beautiful man-- that was all you could think as you took his warm cock in your hands, his entire body bare before your eyes.

"You have a scar--?"

"Yeah,"  He choked, tummy flexing, face twisting at your slow pumps, "Yeah, it's- uh--ha, from my Quirk. I was- 13."

That must've been an insane hospital trip. It was a long scar, too. Poor thing.

You pressed a long, slow kiss to the tip, but it was cut short by his flinch away. He played it off before you could dwell on it with a replacement kiss on the mouth, instead.

He put his knee on the mattress, which brought you into the throws of your ignored ache and inspired you to hook your legs over his bulky thighs.

"Anyways, where were we--?"

Kirishima grinned through a playful groan, seizing the back of your thighs to smush into your chest instead, muffling your delighted laughter with another round of deep, albeit rushed, kisses.

His body was extraordinarily heavy; he was squeezing all of the air out of your lungs in this position.

The gasp you took when he shifted his weight off was one of immense relief- yet full of longing for him to return.

There was a smile so distracting in his crimson eyes when he looked up at you that you didn't notice the one giant arm snaked around your hip, the tongue darting out of his mouth to wet his lips, nor the hook of his fingers under your panties.

"I'll be real careful," He lulled.

Your face grew hot, your heartbeat hastened, at the brief sensation of cold air on your sex. Being the object of intense attention never did get easier, even if he had the goofiest, sharp-toothed smile plastered across his face.

A sharp pang of pleasure hit you like a brick wall. With the messy kisser he was, you should've anticipated his pussy-eating to be just as inconveniently skilled.

"Mm-m, Ah!" You bit the heel of your hand but were robbed of it almost right away.

His free hand trapped your wrist like it was nothing and you felt a smile spreading once more at your useless attempts to free it.

You settled for fixing his long hair up and out of the way, since he had absolutely no intention of helping the cause, and let him slide his rough, heavy hands onto the back of your thighs.

"Mm-mmn," You whimpered at the mercy of his tongue and resolve to get you as slippery as he possibly could, with what little patience you both had left.

He was so good that you didn't care if he'd practiced on a million other girls before you, as long as he just kept edging his tongue around your clit like that.

The man used little to no force to press your thighs up further. His big, warm palms engulfed your hamstrings like they were nothing. Your heart fluttered at the sight.

It was only embarrassing for a moment, because the way he kept lapping at you was downright sinful.

One hand slid down your thigh- you watched as he slicked up two of his middlemost fingers down to the knuckle. Given that his fingers were so long and thick, it was strangely hot watching that happen. He really did keep surprising you.

"I knew you'd taste s'fuckin sweet," He mumbled against your cunt before getting a good position with his hand and sucking at your skin once more.

An uncontrollable whine caught in your throat at the slur in his speech and how easily you took his fingers. Your thighs flexed and twitched as he pumped, nice and slow, filling you up as far as he could reach.

"Oh my- god," Your moans were just noise to you at this point- catching your breath was difficult when your body was in such a state of bliss.

He seethed with a boyish laugh against your bitten-up thigh, "You're takin' me so well- That feel good?"

No man could compare to Kirishima's methodical, yet passionate care around your pleasure.

You gasped as he slipped a third finger in- just as you got accustomed to the stretch of the other two. It's like he could feel for himself when you needed more. And he always had more.

No coherent words that could escape your mouth. He made eye contact with you that you couldn't seem to look away from. He wore a sympathetic grin, understanding that you couldn't tell him just how good you felt with just how far gone you looked.

The tension in your belly was growing all too quickly- you'd be useless if you came now.

But he was so lost in it. You had to tug pretty hard on him to get him to yield. He stalled and you finally found your breath.

"Eij- I," You gasped at his quick grin that gave way to a long, gentle kiss to your clit, "a-Ah-Ha- okay-mm, stop, sto-op-,"

He sighed and slowly earned his pruny fingers back- he made sure to lick every bit of you off of them before he rose to meet you for a tender, but still very messy, kiss.

His cock weighed heavy between you, but it felt much more achievable of a goal now.

If you weren't ready for him now, you'd never be. What was this? Like at least an hour of foreplay?

You were shaky and weak as he lined himself up with your sex after sliding on a condom.

"Let me know if it's too much-," He used his free hand to hold your face, not giving you anywhere else to stare but his attentive gaze, "I don't wanna hurt you."

It helped that you were feeling so empty prior- because as he pushed past your entrance, the realization hit you that you never felt so stretched past your limits before.

A couple taps kept you in the land of the living. You blinked slowly up at him with a bitten lip, practically drunk on the feeling of being split on his cock.

"Y'don't talk much, d'ya?" He huffed, swallowing his own pleasure to keep responsible for yours.

It goes without saying the guy couldn't bottom out without hitting your cervix- and that was a drastically different endeavor depending on the woman, so he didn't attempt it.

You didn't notice.

Lines blurred between discomfort and acute pleasure as soon as he felt you relaxed enough to stuff his thick shaft further into your tight body.

"Can't've fucked ya dumb already," He drawled with a feverish, dirty look in his eyes.

He seethed as your body responded, your thighs tightening around him, tummy stirring at the stretch and that probe of a comment.

You gave a playful grin at how he easily spread your thighs apart, his cock able to stuff you better without your unnecessary flexing.

A gasp racked you at the sensation and you leaned your head back with a whine.

He gave your hip a pinch when you kept trying to make him do it again. He was intrigued at your reactions, and more than willing to oblige with how good you were at taking him.

"Mm-mm, you've gotta open up for me, pretty girl," He lowered himself to drown you in a rough kiss.

You just couldn't catch your breath with him inside of you- like there was no room for air in your lungs when your entire body felt like it was filled with him. A sleepy smile roused at his occasional force.

Soon, with your mouth as a distraction, his pace grew to a less kind speed.

"Mmn-Ah! God-," You yelped, sounds soon to be covered by a firm, calloused hand.

"Shhh," He grinned just briefly- it was overshadowed by a grimace of intense pleasure, "A-ah, you're way too loud."

The incredulous look on his face explained that he clocked exactly how you liked to be fucked as soon as he put it in. There was a reason you went for big guys.

"nd' way too tight for me," He added with an honest groan.

He was slowly sinking into you. All 290 pounds of him. You felt lightheaded, like you were getting pounded to Cloud 9 with the most handsome, blurry face as all you could see.

The hand he used to keep you silent slipped. His hips stalled for a moment.

He asked you something but you couldn't hear it. All you gave was another whimper at his hesitation when you were just getting there. You didn't realize you had been crying until he wiped one away with the rough pad of his thumb.

You blinked away the sting.

"'M fine," You mumbled, smiling at his concern, "You jus'feel so good..."

Another surprised expression could be briefly seen in his eyes, while an excited smile still remained plastered to his jaw.

You were the little freak of his dreams. A match made in heaven.

It was the final confirmation he needed to really put his dick to good use.

Nice and pliable now, you reveled in his slick, heavy body crushing you into his mattress. His hands slid under your ass, a brutal grasp as he picked up pace and force to how you preferred.

No room to move, hardly enough air to keep you intelligible, and fucked senseless under him. Exactly how you fantasized in your own bed right after you first met him.

His grunts and groans at the mercy of your tight cunt were so clear against your ear, his forehead against the sheets.

He kept your adorable sounds muffled with his hulking shoulder in your useless bite.

"Fuck-- a-h, f-uck," A subtle, clipped whine at the end of his curse stroked your ego a bit.

One hand came up to support his weight and fist a section of hair, forcing your head to one side.

"A-h!" You whined again, but this time he smiled at it.

His bottom hand slid to one hip with a brutish squeeze as he brought you down on his cock. The grip on your scalp was electrifying and reassuring all in one.

"Feels so fucking good," He groan-laughed, "God, you--Mmn-! Got such a good pussy,"

You were swimming in the buzz of your climbing orgasm. Drunken, whimpery sounds were coming out of you, but you couldn't register them. His shaky affirmations served as stepping stones towards the strongest build-up you've had in a long, long time.

It crashed over you without more than a mere second's warning-- your nails dug deep trenches down his well-muscled back, as you came hard around his cock.

Your loud mouth was no longer muffled or of his concern other than wanting everyone in the building to hear how fucking good he made you feel.

He watched your body squirm and tremble under him in adulation; he fucked you to completion, but no more.

Tired, weak, and shaky, you had no room to respond to him pulling out of you, his lack of orgasm, or his cuddly shushing. He brought you back down gently, with no pressure, or judgement.

Your head was pressed to his oversized chest, a grounding hand scratching lightly in your hair.

A light, soft blanket over your prickly skin settled you at last. His big, puppy dog eyes met yours with enthusiasm as you peered up at him.

"You're so cool."

Somehow, that compliment stunned you the most out of all his endearing habits and sayings.

His bitten-lip smile matched your embarrassed giggle. "What're you talking about?"

"Just, aah," He showed off those pointy teeth you just couldn't get enough of. You watched them in a delightful and soft daze, "You're so-o good! I've just..."

A bashful sigh, though the graceless palm on your bruising hip didn't express such modesty, "Never been with someone who... could..."

He trailed off. It could've meant many things.

He was a master at keeping his experiences vague, though you could tell it wasn't intentional.

The softness behind his lashes, the speed in which he let up on your hip at your subtle wince, and the hesitancy that characterized him this whole night helped you understand.

The partners he must've been with before-- he probably hurt them. Badly enough to carry that guilt with him to now.

"You made it easy," You slid up to give him a peck on his stubbly chin. "You...take good care of me."

Your body raised as his chest swelled with pride. It threw you a bit off balance, so you slid to lay yourself on top of him, slow and steady. The comfort of his big, warm body was unparalleled.

"We're," Kirishima's rumbly voice tugged you out of a light slumber, "Totally dating now, right?"

His voice didn't sound entirely sure.

You chuckled and rubbed an eye, "Mmm, you still--," A big yawn made him giggle, "Gotta take me to dinner."

He squished a big kiss to the top of your head. Hulking arms linked back over you for extra warmth to let you sleep a while longer.

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