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dollwrites · 7 months

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𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), normal!fem!reader, substance abuse [ reader is drunk and nicolas overdosed on celebrer ], classism, suggested age gap [ nic is 34 and reader is at least 21 ], anonymous hookup, brief description of blood and dead bodies, fingering [ her ], unprotected sex, pull out method, all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯 ∣ day twelve [ nicolas brown + anonymous sex ]

the back alleys of Ergastulum were dangerous, especially at night if a young girl was to be walking by herself— intoxicated and carrying her heels in one hand. everything about your situation screamed danger, but you had been just drunk enough not to care.

just drunk enough to stumble your clumsy way right into you had never meant to see. remnants of blood spatter on the ground stained your bare feet, and your toes nudge cool metal. you glance down. a pair of tags lay there, with a name you didn’t recognize. Ranking B/4. when you look up again, there’s a man dragging what you assumed to be the Tag’s body and tossing it in a stack by the dumpster. he, too, wore tags; silver that dangled around his neck when he bent over, and his black tee shirt had been torn just enough to get a peak at the bulging veins in his sturdy bicep as he worked on cleaning up his mess.

your eyes flicker to the sword on his hip. a perplexing weapon, but a weapon, nonetheless.

the alcohol saturating your brain wouldn’t let you be afraid, and you felt your cheeks heat up— your belly knotting up with an unfamiliar, carnal desire. where you should’ve ran, you dragged yourself closer, using the brick wall for support so you wouldn’t bust your ass. and when the Tag spotted you approaching him, he stopped, and sharp, dark eyes narrow even further as he stands up straight and looks you over. his gaze is fixed and predatory, calculating every clumsy move that you make, but you can tell something’s off with him, too, and you simper, slow and lustful.

“You fucked up, too, Tag?”

he doesn’t answer, it’s strange, the way he’s looking at you. like he would tear you apart with his bare hands. the blood you'd stepped in had still been warm, which means he’d just been fighting to the death, and yet he wasn’t winded at all. his broad chest didn’t rise and fall with any sense of over exertion. you bit down on your lip.

“You look like you want to kill me.” you blurted out, before tilting your head. the Tag doesn’t give you yes or no, but his eyes watch the shape of your mouth, “Or… maybe something else?” you let your shoes slip from your hands and clatter against the ground by a dumpster, and his eyes follow, but to you they are already forgotten in the dark. after a moment, dark eyes train themselves on your face again, but you notice they’re zeroed in on your lips. you can’t help but smile. “What do you want to do to me? Kiss me?”

what had gotten into you?

“Touch me?”

was it the alcohol?

“Fuck me?”

or, maybe it was the stench of blood in the air, and the way his body was carved out from the moon’s dull glow that seemed to force you back to your baser instincts. when you say those two words, you watch his expression tighten. his brow twitches, and you know you’ve got his attention now.

“That’s it… you want to fuck me, don’t you, Tag?” you stumble closer, and notice how he doesn’t move an inch, so you keep prodding, “You like that idea? Fucking a normal right here, right now, in this filthy back alley—“ when you get within arms reach, instead of grabbing you like you’d expected him to, his elbow digs into your chest. with a low grunt, he pushes you against the opposite wall, his forearm pinning you in place. you choke on a gasp, eyes widening, suddenly regretting every provoking him in the first place as he steps close, plugging the gap between you with his own body. his frame is lean and heavily muscled, hard like bricks. “Y-you—?”

dark eyes, ringed from possible insomnia and age, watch your face carefully, his brows knit close together as he pins you in place. you could feel how much stronger he was than you, and for some reason, that didn’t scare you as much as it turned you on. you suck in a heavy breath, that his eyes follow as it inflates your chest, his fingers twitching when they uncurl from a fist. calloused fingertips glide along the top of your breast, before he grips a rough palm full, groping you through your skin-tight dress. a soft moan of surprise escapes you at such abrupt and uncouth treatment, your back arching into it. “Uhh…” the sharp, obsidian gems dart back up to your face, scaling along the shape of your mouth as you mutter, cheeks hot with a blush, “You don’t talk much, huh? Just… take what you want?”

he still doesn’t answer, and you don’t know which is worse.

being felt up right next to a dumpster by a stranger, or the fact that stranger won’t say one word to you.

“Why don’t you kiss me a little, yeah? Let me taste it~” crooning, you lean forward against his arm, tilting your head up. your lips are parted, waiting to be met with a fierce kiss. feeling his heat as he leans down, closer and closer, you close your eyes under the rush of anticipation. a low growl bubbles from his throat, practically vibrating against your lips as he hovers there, before his free hand shoves its way between your thighs, under your dress. in a swift motion, the Tag’s fingers slip up under your panties and jab into your slick, which frenzies and clenches around the girth of both digits working their way into you at once. “Fuck!” you hiss through clenched teeth, grasping at both of his taut shoulders. your nails dig through the thin fabric of his shirt and bite at his skin, and damn, you hope it hurts. “Easy!”

he was anything but.

a steady rhythm pumps his fingers in and out of you, as if mechanical, stretching you at a pace that your body hadn’t been ready for.

you keep one eye shut tight, but peer up at him with the other, your brows furrowed, and your mouth hanging open so the moans can fall freely from it. his eyes meet your gaze, his mouth twisted in an almost unnatural grin.

but still, it felt good.

you can’t help the moan that slips from your mouth as his greedy fingers desecrate your sex, scraping against your sensitive walls and bullying the elastic nerve clusters that he could reach. you were already so wet that you were soaking his palm, but the rougher he was with you, the wetter you got. “M-more,” you mew now, hooking one leg on his waist. the other balances you precariously on your tip toes, but with your shoulders pressed back into the brick wall behind you, you knew that you were mostly stable. “Gonna cum, gonna-“

you had been so close. your stomach was bunched up, every muscle in your body pulled taut, and you were starting to shake with need. the sensation of his animalistic groping and kneading of your breast and the way he mercilessly finger fucked you had pushed you right to the edge in a matter of minutes, and now you were just about to swan dive into abysmal euphoria when the Tag rips his fingers free from your body.

your disappointment only lasts for a moment— long enough to swear under your breath, hole clenching around air, before you felt both, massive and powerful hands on you now. grabbing your shoulders, he spins you around, pushing you against the wall, facing it. “Hurry,” you pant, needily dancing around on your toes, already spreading your legs wide when he wrenches your panties down to your ankles. you didn’t care, you’d leave them ruined in the street, if only he’d fuck you already. “Put it in, Tag!” you turned to look at him over your shoulder when you demanded attention, pushing your ass back against the groin of his jeans so you can smear your drooling cunt over the fabric and mark him as yours. he pauses, hands out, and watches the display. now, his chest does rise and fall with heavy breath, and you know why. you can feel the hard lump stabbing at your slick through his pants, and you know his cock is throbbing and wanton for you. your eyes widen when he plants a harsh slap on one of your ass cheeks, before gripping a handful of it, pushing you back flush with the wall. the way he manhandled you only made you want him more. “Please…” it was a faint whine, but you stayed in place, smushed against the wall with your hands splayed out, biting down on your lip, watching him.

his eyes had fallen from your ass, and now focused on his belt, his free hand unbuckling it with surprising skill. next, he shoved his trousers and the waistband of his underwear down just enough for his hard and ready cock to spring free, the tip spanking your ass when he does. as much as you would’ve liked to admire what he was working with, you don’t get the chance before he grabs hold of it and shoves it into you so abruptly that you cry out. at the same time, he grunts in approval at your tightness, grasping your hips with both hands now, pulling you back to meet his already greedy thrusting.

you could feel every detail of his cock as it plowed into you. thick and strong, with pulsating veins and a spongy, swollen head that battered your sweet spots until you were babbling, squirming against the wall. you could also hear him now, much more vocal, as he snorted and huffed and grunted. he must’ve enjoyed the way you felt from the inside, because he was grinding his teeth, hunching his shoulders as he hunkered down on you to pour you deeper and harder. hooking both arms around your midriff, the monster sweeps you off your feet, allowing you to bounce up and down on him, your legs dangling haplessly. he snarls in pure ecstasy, and you scramble to hold on to something, settling on reaching back to grab at his elbows.

“O-oh, fuck!” each launch sends you against the wall, but you’re pulled right back so the Tag can slam himself home, relentlessly burying his whole cock into you, and you couldn’t keep up. you couldn’t form any words that weren’t expletive cries, or breathe unless it was ragged panting. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!” two words that you repeated over and over, louder and louder, feeling yourself start to drop off. you were going to come undone, but you needed for him to keep doing exactly what he was doing— fucking you wildly.

with weak eyes, glassy and on the verge of crossing, you gaze back at him, still begging him to keep going, and his own line of sight is trained on your mouth. that’s when you realized it. he had been reading your lips this whole time.

no wonder he wasn’t very talkative.

“C-cumming—“ you groan, scraping your nails against his muscles. you wanted to leave marks on him, break the skin so he remembered you, because you certainly were not going to forget him, “I’m cumming!”

when he registers your words, his bear hug around your waist tightens, and his body weight comes crashing against yours, smothering you against the wall and pummeling your guts with every ounce of strength he had until you were trembling, screaming out, and disoriented. he was in your ear the whole time, snorting heavy breaths through his nose, grunting and snarling. every time your cunt clenched around his girth, you felt it throb, he hugged you even tighter against his body, until he could take no more and released you all at once.

stepping back with a strangled moan, his cock slips from your vice just in time to shoot white streamers between your trembling legs that splatter against the dark concrete. you gasp, dropping your forehead to the brick and watch his release sink into the crevices on the ground. you feel so hollowed out, as if this man had just fucked a hole through you, and part of you wished he’d filled that hole with his cum; staring at it raining down on the street by your feet seemed wasteful. still, you knew you’d be feeling him for days, and you slowly and shakily push yourself off from the wall. turning to face him, you notice he’s tucking himself away, now, his cheeks are red and burning with a blush, even at his age he seems sheepish. you swoon; it was cute. traipsing closer, you throw your arms around his neck before he can push you away again, and pull him in for a lusty kiss, breathing hot air into his open mouth, before you suckle on his lower lip, sinking your teeth in it to tug, playfully until he grunts again, grabbing your face to pry him off of you. strings of your saliva tethers you to him, but only for a moment, and you sigh, a subtle smirk playing on your lips. he watches you, perplexed for a moment, before the pad of his thumb runs over the shape of your lips, and you can smell yourself on his skin. “You’re a pretty good lay, Tag.”

#nicolas brown #nicolas brown x reader #nicolas brown x you #nicolas brown smut #gangsta #gangsta x reader #gangsta x you #gangsta smut #gangsta anime

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 3 months

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DRABBLE: THEY’RE YOUR BLIND V-DAY DATE ❤️🍷💕 (CROSSOVER ANIME) (18+) (For Black!Fem!Readers)

Writer’s Note: Got another something for V-Day for y’all. I decided to do one for multiple anime characters cuz I’m a slut for all them 2D characters & couldn’t decide on one specific show lol. Plus it sounded fun! And important disclaimers I’ll just make a note of before the actual Drabble. I hope y’all enjoy! ☺️🥰 -Jazz

********

LEVI ACKERMAN (AOT)

The first night, you’re nervous, to say the least, especially when Hange warns you about his appearance.

“Why?” you had asked over margaritas and tacos, already perplexed and slightly unnerved by her warning. “Is he really ugly or something?”

Hange, sitting across from you in her glasses with her locks of long, chestnut brown hair cascading down her shoulders, shook her head. “No, no, my dear!” she immediately protested. “He’s actually quite handsome despite the broody thing. But he does have some scars from a mission gone wrong at his job and he’s blind in one eye.” She took a sip of her margarita as if to soften the next blow. “And he’s missing a leg,” she finished.

You were taken aback to say the least, but you didn’t let that stop you. You aren’t prejudice and you refused to let that stop you from at least giving Hange’s friend a chance. Apparently, Levi has been a firefighter for a couple of years and has recently broken up with a longtime girlfriend, so Hange figured he could get back into the dating pool and realize that there are great girls out there starting with you!

So the weekend of Valentine’s Day, Hange texts you the name of the restaurant and you take an Uber there after spending the entire day doing your hair, picking out an outfit, and giving yourself a makeover. You decided on a soft glam look as this is the first time you’re meeting the guy and a pretty, red dress that hugs your frame and zips in the back.

When you get of the Uber in front of the quaint and low-key yet romantic restaurant, you take a table near the doo so it’ll be easier to see Levi walk in and flag him down. You still have no idea what he looks like, only that he’ll be wearing a black trench coat, he’s tall, and he has a large scar going over his eye. “His team calls him Scar, apparently,” Hange laughed. “It helps that he has a smooth, deep voice too!”

You admit that you were curious to see him and hear that “smooth, deep” voice she told you about. So you sit and order a glass of wine, waiting for his arrival as you stare out at the passing cars and people…only he never comes. You wait and you wait and you wait, but he never shows his face. You call Hange, thinking maybe you have the wrong restaurant or time or day, but all is correct. You think that maybe he’s in traffic or something came up, but Hange never calls to tell you either.

When your appetizer comes and the candle sitting in the middle of the table begins to melt, you feel your heart sink to the pit of your stomach. You’ve been stood up. The realization hits you like a brick to the face. Quickly, you order the check and a box for your food pay the waiter before running out of the restaurant in tears. You feel stupid. Wasteful. Foolish in your pretty dress and heels.

Hange comes over to see you with the quickness when you tell her that night, ice cream and face masks in tow. “I can’t believe him!” she says, enraged, with a sheet mask on her face. “He told me he’d be there and then he doesn’t show up? Who does he think he is? Why, I’m gonna give that man a piece of my–“

“Don’t Hange,” you sigh, shoveling another spoonful of ice cream into your mouth. “Just leave it be. He probably just changed his mind or wasn’t ready.” You are ready to move on and forget it, but the universe doesn’t let you. A week later while at work of all places, you get an unknown call. Thinking it’s one of those scammers, you give a sharp “hello”.

“Uh…hi,” a smooth, deep, velvety voice replies. “This is Levi, Hange’s friend. This is Y/N, correct?” You heart drops into your ass and it takes a moment for you to reply. “Uh, y-yeah,” you answer. “Yeah, this is her. You’re Hange’s friend? Did you get my number from her?”

“I had to,” Levi replies, his voice making your stomach do flips. “I’m sorry if that’s weird, but I just…” He pauses, sighing. “I had to talk to you,” he finishes, sounding completely beaten. “I’m so sorry for not coming last week. I was so afraid for you to see me because of my appearance. I was so sure you'd find me unattractive and not like what you see. I’m very insecure in that and I let it get the best of me, but that doesn’t mean you deserved that. Hange already went up my ass about it.”

You softly giggle, knowing she would. "So, if you don’t despise me too much and you’re willing, can we meet up for dinner this Friday night if you’re free?” He sounds hopeful and slightly afraid. You don’t know why you say yes, but you do and you make plans to meet for ramen on Friday. When the day comes, you wear a more casual outfit–-a pretty cashmere sweater, jeans, and some boots––but still style your hair and makeup to look presentable. ‘Second time’s a charm, I guess,’ you think.

It’s a dry, cool night so you wait outside the restaurant for Levi to arrive, texting him that you’re there prior to your arrival. Ten minutes into waiting, you think he isn’t going to show and that he duped you again, but then your phone rings. Your heart leaps at the sight of his caller ID and you answer. “Hello?” you answer, noticing how breathless you sound.

“Look up,” Levi says and you do, seeing him standing before you across the street under a streetlight. The soft light illuminates his features: a sharp jawline and cheekbones, soft, pale skin, one eye the color of a gray ocean, and the other milky where a long scar runs from his eyebrow to his cheek. He walks towards you slowly, his hand on his left leg where his prosthetic is, and finally makes it over to you. He is extremely attractive and smells like toasted vanilla. “You’re Y/N, I take it?” he asks, a small smile on his face.

“And you’re Levi,” you reply, your heart battering against your ribcage. He gives a slight nod, his one eye roaming over your frame. “My God, you’re stunning,” he chuckles as if he can hardly believe it. “Even more than that the first night. I had come, but I never went into the restaurant. I was so intimidated by the way you looked that I just–“

“Stop,” you interrupt, not liking the thought of him standing outside looking into the restaurant window at you, feeling so horrible about his looks. “That was then and this is now. And you’re wrong, by the way.” One of Levi’s eyebrow raises in confusion. “I do like what I see,” you say, your voice soft and shy. “Fo the record, you’re one of the sexiest guys I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

The laugh Levi lets out just about fills you with joy and you just about melt before he holds the door for you to enter the restaurant, not so discreetly staring at your ass as he does.

NANAMI KENTO (JJK)

He’s a professor and he’s a blonde is what you’re told by Gojo…but that’s about all he tells you, the asshole.

“You’re asking me to go on a date with a dude I don’t even know and you won’t even tell me what he looks like?” You’re sitting with him at brunch with bottomless mimosas when he runs it by you. You get the feeling he just invited you out with the promise of mimosas, good omelettes, and paying just to toss this at you.

Gojo gives you his big, gigawatt smile as he sits across from you wearing his usual shades. “Trust me, babe! He’s a good and attractive guy! If I wasn’t taken, I’d fuck him myself.” He snorts to himself, shoveling some eggs into his mouth. “But I don’t even think I’m his type.”

From what you gathered at the start of brunch, Kento Nanami is Gojo’s very stoic, very introverted, very lonely friend who is need of a date this upcoming Valentine’s Day. Though intelligent and handsome, Nanami isn’t too good with women and hasn’t been in a romantic relationship is quite some time. “I swear, he’s not an incel,” Gojo swears, one hand on his heart and the other held high. “He loves women! He’s just…awkward.”

You aren’t sure if you like that answer. “What if I meet him and I don’t like him?” you ask, taking a break for you mimosa. “I mean, I’m only agreeing to this because you said you’d pay me.” And Gojo did. He figures you’re the perfect girl––smart, pretty, and funny––to bring Nanami out of his shell. “$50,” he sing-songs. “And if you hate his guts, you'll get another $50, I promise. But give him a chance, Y/N! He needs it!”

To not hear him whine and beg, you roll your eyes and agree. Gojo arranges for you to meet with Nanami at a winter light show in the park that is done every year. It’s the perfect place to meet since it’s romantic and very populated. You dress in your warmest and cutest coat before hurrying to meet Nanami, your boots crunching in the snow. The park is decorated in twinkling lights that line the trees, walkways, and fountains.

You’re so enchanted by the lights that you barely see the slick of ice lining the sidewalk. You misstep and your left foot goes skidding. “Oh, shit!” you gasp as you fall, but you don't feel the ground or the cold snow. You don’t feel anything at all except two warm, strong arms wrapped around you. You look up into the warm eyes of an older man. An older, extremely attractive man with a blonde undercut and wearing a tan wool coat. “Are you alright, miss?” he worriedly asks. His voice is deep yet warm and sweet like honey. You’re so taken by the stranger than you barely notice that he has set you upright. “Um…yeah,” you answer albeit softly.

You blink at him, noticing how tall and well-built he is behind his coat. His hands are strong and capable and you find yourself staring at them even when he shoves them into his pocket. “Nanami?” you hesitantly question. You watch his darker blonde brows furrow in confusion then rise in realization. “You’re Y/N,” he realizes. “Forgive me. Gojo didn’t tell me what you’d look up or what you’d be wearing.”

You think you see his eyes trailing over you, but you can’t focus on it for too long. “That’s okay,” you laugh. “That’s Gojo, for you. How do you know him?” Nanami begins to walk with you to the line at the entrance gate to enter the event, keeping the same slow pace as you. “We went to the same high school and remained friends ever since. How did you meet him?”

“We met through a mutual friend and just clicked,” you explain. “Her name is Shoko.” Recognition crosses Nanami’s face at the name. “Shoko?” he asks, a light flickering in his eyes. “I know her as well. We all went to the same school.”

“What a coincidence!” you giggle, glad to have something to break the ice (other than your fall). “Thank you again for helping me. I know I’m dumb for wearing these things in the snow.” You nod down at your heeled boots to which Nanami only stares at, never smiling. His expression is unreadable and slightly intimidating. But you can tell it’s just awkwardness. Now you see what Gojo meant.

But rather than be unnerved by it, you find yourself wanting to break through it. You want to get to the warm core of this man. “Um…should we walk?” you ask, nodding at the entrance gate. Nanami nods, but looks slightly worried. “Will you be alright?” he asks, still staring at your feet. “You may want to hold onto me.” He offers you his arm, a slight tinge of pink to his cheeks that one could pass off for the cold. Your heart leaps at the chance to touch him, even be near him.

“What a gentleman,” you chuckle. “I didn't think chivalry still existed.” You take his coat sleeve and let him lead you through the entrance into the park’s first trail. A chuckle that makes your stomach flip and your pussy leap leaves Nanami’s mouth. “I wouldn’t say all of that, but thank you. I would just think I’m being a good human being. So Gojo told me about your job. What is that like?”

The park is truly beautiful, decorated head to toe with lights that twinkle and dance. But you’re not focusing on the lights; just Nanami and his conversation. For such a stoic guy, he can really hold a conversation. He tells you all about his job as a professor and his students; what subjects he likes; his life outside of work. He asks you about you and all of your habits, hobbies, and joys. He listens intently, putting them all in his brain’s filing cabinet. You find similarities about each other, including favorite books, movies, and your love for the beach.

The date lasts for an hour and you enjoy every minute of it. You like being around Nanami, enjoying his stale humor and shy smile. More than anything, you like his presence. You like how soft his wool coat feels under your finger. You like how he keeps his arm at reach, even when you release him at times. You like how he keeps the same pace as you, never walking too fast and always straying at your side, his black leather shoes tapping against the concrete. You’re feeling him and you want to let him know that when you finally reach the end of the park where the last attraction, an ice sculptor decorated in lights, stands.

“Wow,” you sigh. “So pretty.”

Nanami stands next to you as you stare up in awe at the attraction. “Yes,” he agrees, though he isn’t looking at the lights. His attention is solely on you. He likes the way the lights illuminate your skin that contrasts with his. He likes the brown of your eyes, so warm and tempting like chocolate. He likes your humor and sweet laugh. He likes you and he isn’t too shy to show it. You can see it when you turn and find him already staring at you, bold and heated.

He is sexy. He is alluring. And you want him. “Nanami?” you shyly ask. His eyebrows raise, acknowledging your question. You turn to him fully and stare up at him through you lashes. “I don’t usually do this, but…would you want to come home with me?” He is silent, staring at you wordlessly, and your stomach flip with discomfort. “For coffee, maybe?” you add.

Nanami doesn’t have to be asked again. To end such a perfect date, you find yourself on your back with Nanami on top of you, looking so handsome above you as he pounds your pussy into the mattress. His big hands pin your thighs apart and up to his broad shoulders, your painted toes and skin contrasting deliciously with his lighter skin. “So pretty,” he groans. “You were the prettiest thing there tonight. Fuck, darling, you’re so tight!”

He thrusts into you harder, faster, making the bed squeak and you lose your voice from how loud you moan. You can feel yourself about to cum after so much foreplay and stimulation (Nanami is a gentle lover). “Kento!” you whine, digging your nails into his shoulders. “I’m gonna cum! Please…please cum with me!”

And he does. At the sound of you begging, he bursts inside of you with a ragged groan as you cum all over his big cock, your pussy walls squeezing around him and stroking his shaft. As you do, his lips find yours, giving you a passionate kiss that could melt the ice with how hot it is.

NICO ROBIN (One Piece)

*Note: Reader is plus-sized!

Nami swore up and down that you needed to go on a date for Valentine’s Day to forget about your short-term “situationship”.

“Just give a chance, Y/N,” she said to you over ramen. She treated you to lunch at the best ramen place in town while you were on your work break. “It’s just for one night and I can’t stand the thought of my best friend alone on Valentine’s Day! And she’s a great girl, seriously!”

You looked down at your bowl of ramen, feeling hot under your sweater dress that clung to your plump body. The idea of a blind date didn’t appeal to you much, especially being such a big girl. Usually, when people got a look at you, they either ghosted you after the first date or didn’t give you the time of day. Why did she think this was a good idea?

“Just be careful,” Zoro said, shoveling spicy miso ramen into his mouth. “She’ll charm the pants off of you…or skirt…whatever you’ll be wearing.” Nami smacked him on the the arm hard, making the green-haired hunk hiss in pain. “Don’t listen to him, honey. Robin is just a sweet-talker. You have nothing to worry about!”

But when you finally get a look at your date, you don’t think that’s true. Nami set the date up at a high-scale bar where the working class and hotshot businessmen come for happy hour. When you walk in, you immediately feel self-conscious despite looking oh-so yummy in your waistband coat that flares around your waist and pink dress that makes your skin and brown eyes pop. But the dress also sticks to your body, accentuating each curve, ripple, and roll. Though your stomach ripples with nerves, you also feel slightly confident catching eyes under the warm lights above.

You sit at the sleek bar and order yourself a cocktail to loosen up a bit more while you search for your date at the door. Nami only told you that she’s “tall with long black hair and might be wearing purple”. You’re curious as to what this girl is like and if she likes what she sees. You sip on your cocktail and scroll through your phone for a couple of minutes, completely unaware of the eyes you have captured from down at the bar.

When you turn around in your stool to place your glass down, you find another cocktail sitting behind you. Confused, you flag down the bartender. “I didn’t order this,” you tell him, pushing the glass towards him. “It was sent to you,” he explains. “From down at the bar.” You look in that direction, but find no one paying any attention to you. “But I have a date,” you protest. “I can't accept this.”

“That’s correct,” a sweet yet smooth and sultry voice purrs behind you, “and it’s usually rude to deny a drink from her.” The voice causes your body to react instantly: the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end; your heart pounds in your chest; your stomach flips. You turn and see your blind date standing behind you in the flesh.

Beautiful isn’t a word to use for Robin. She is absolutely stunning. A straight vixen oozing confidence and poise as she stands behind you in a purple cocktail dress that illuminates her soft, pale skin and blue eyes that steal the air from your lungs. She tall and slender with piano fingers painted in a dark rouge that you want to feel wrapped around your body, but has a rack that can stop traffic and is definitely catching eyes. Her long, shiny, black locks of hair cascade down her slender shoulders, catching the light above. You are in awe of her and her beauty as are the others in the bar.

“Y/N?” she asks in her alluring voice. Wordlessly, you nod and close your mouth to avoid looking like an idiot. “I’m Nico Robin, Nami’s friend. She’s told me so much about you.” She puts a slender hand out to shake yours, giving you a whiff of her luxurious-smelling perfume and a peek of golden Tiffany bracelet.

You put your hand in hers, feeling warm from her touch. “N-Nice to meet you,” you stutter. “Please, have a seat. Do you want a drink?” Robin raises her brows questionably as she settles onto a stool next to you. You flush under the lights, thanking God that he made you Black. “It’s only right since you ordered me one.”

Robin smiles, her pearly whites and dimples making you damn near melt. “How sweet of you,” she giggles. She orders herself a dirty Martini with extra olives and thanks you again when it comes. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting. I got caught up in some work.” She slowly crosses her soft, long, milky legs over one another. You do your best not to stare.

You give her a smile, pretending that you’re not turned the fuck on by her, and lean your elbow against your chin. “So you’re an archaeologist, right? That’s such an interesting job.” She smiles at the compliment and at the mention of her career as you sip your cocktail. “Well, I’ve always been attracted to history since I was young. I’m attracted to intelligence too, which you seem to have a lot of.” Her smile turns flirty and now you know what Zoro was talking about. You’re already charmed by her. “Tell me: what’s your job like?” she asks.

Your conversations last for hours and flow perfectly, especially after you get your second drinks in you. You tell her about your job and quietly gush over her curiosity and awe, realizing how much she loves learning. You talk about everything, from city life to books to anime, learning that you both love magical girl anime, especially Sailor Moon. You didn't expect that from Robin because of how poised she is and her love for dark colors, but as soon as you mention Sailor Moon, her eyes widen in excitement. “I love Sailor Moon!” She laughs. “I cosplayed as Sailor Mars two Halloweens ago. I bet you’d look so pretty as a Sailor Scout, especially with the skirt.”

That’s another thing you learn about Robin: she’s a flirt. She sneaks in little sly compliments to obviously make you flustered…and it’s working. You try to do the same, complimenting her on her outfit and her smile. “I can see why everyone is so fond of you in here,” you say, nodding at the group of businessmen playing pool that are not so discreetly staring at you both from across the room. Robin giggles, turning back to you with a hooded gaze. “Too bad,” she sighs, not at all sounding disappointed. “I’m here with you.”

As the night goes on, it gets looser as you both become more comfortable with each other. You talk about everything and anything, telling each other funny stories and showing pictures of your pets. “You’re a dog mom too?” you coo, gushing over her wallpaper of her and a fluffy, brown animal dressed as Santa Claus though he has pointed ears and horns. “Reindeer mom,” she corrects you and titters at your confusion. “It’s a long story, but that’s my perfect little boy. His name is Chopper.”

Other than Robin being a sweet-talker as Nami said, you also find out many other things about this alluring, attractive woman. Like how much she loves plays and Disney movies, becoming so excited when you ask her about her favorite films. “I love musicals,” she shyly says, an endearing blush on her face. “Can you tell I’m a secret theatre kid?” Or how she tends to ramble about information she’s obtained from books and documentaries about tribes long gone and age-old urban legends. You could listen to her talk for hours. Unbeknownst to you, she feels the same about you whenever you speak about yourself and your interests.

As the alcohol takes its affect on you both, she also tells you that she’s a devil fruit user, a term you’ve heard before since many in the world are, including your mutual friend Luffy. When you ask her about her ability, she just winks behind her third martini glass. “A woman never draws all of her cards…not all at once, anyway.”

As the night draws on, so do the drinks and soon, you’re feeling loose and bold. You decide to show her your hidden talent which is rolling your eyes to the right and the left. “I can wiggle my ears too,” you say, showing her much to her amusement. She applauds you, giggling at your talent. “My, you’re full of surprises,” she giggles. “And so am I.”

You suddenly feel something tickling your sides and look down to see two disembodied hands tickling you. Robin’s hands. You look at her in shock as she retracts her extra arms, using them to grab her third martini and take a sip. “The perks of being a devil fruit user,” she chuckles. At the sight of your expression, she grows concerned. “Do they frighten you?”

“No,” you answer honestly. “They’re…” You stare at her extra hands, wondering how many more she has and how they would feel on your body. “Pretty,” you decide to answer with. That is enough for Robin to decide what she wants from you tonight.

So when you’re both still sitting there when the bar is emptying out, she makes it known. “Oh, dear,” she sighs, exhaling in disappointment as the bartenders clean and the drunk crowd empties out. “It appears that our date has become to an end.” She turns to you, placing a warm hand on yours. “I really enjoyed meeting you, Y/N,” she says, a smile on her face that makes you ache.

You don’t want tonight to end. You don’t want her to go. You need more of her touch. She seems to understand and see the mutual disappointment in your eyes because she doesn’t release your hand. “Unless you want this night to continue,” she adds, her voice like honey in your ears. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t very attracted to you too, unless I’m mistaking the chemistry.” You can’t speak, so you shake your head and her eyes twinkle. She leans in toward you, engulfing you in her scent. “Just say the words and I’ll go with you,” she whispers into your ear.

Desire overwhelms you and you squeeze her hand, interlacing your fingers. “I’ll call a Lyft,” you exhale. Robin smiles, keeping her hand in yours.

She doesn’t let go even hours later when your fingers are interlaced with each others’ while your legs are pined open by her extra hands on the bed. Your moans and whimpers fill the darkness of your bedroom as she moves her tongue against your clit, moaning eagerly and sloppily into your pussy as she eats you like there is no tomorrow. “Now I can really show you how good I am with my hands,” she giggles, looking up at you between your thighs. “You’re so cute like this, pretty girl.”

You can feel that knot in your core tightening the more she moves her jaw, going faster and faster until you have no choice. “Robin,” you whine. “I'm gonna…gonna…!” Your back arches and your legs shake around Robin’s face.

Her hold on you tightens, her hands gripping your thighs.“Cum for me, gorgeous,” she hums. “I’ve got you. Cum all over my face like a good girl.” One thing is for sure while you gush around Robin’s face, loving how she eagerly laps up everything you give her: another date is definitely in the future for you and her.

PRO!KATSUKI BAKUGOU & KIRISHIMA EJIROU (BHNA)

*Note: Reader is plus-sized & a bimbo!

*Disclaimer: Bakugou & Kiri are both aged-up (over the age of 18) in this drabble!

You don’t know why you agreed to do this blind date thing, but your friend put you up to it after she reminded you of your NY resolution to try new things to help yourself.

“You need to put yourself out there more, girl!” she argued over the phone with you. “Do you see how hot you are?! You deserve to have someone on your arm!” You pouted as you painted your toe nails a pretty bubblegum pink, your feet hanging over you bathtub smelling like vanilla bubblebath.

Though she is right about you deserving a nice guy to tell you how pretty you are, most of the guys you dated either used you as arm candy, hit in then quit it, or just stopped talking to you because of your, uh…bimbo-ness. You know you have no filter and sometimes you do come off as dumb, but you’re trying your best! And you’re kind and the sweetest person anyone will ever meet! Isn’t that enough?

“Yeah, but a blind date though?” you complained into the phone sitting on your sink. “How am I gonna go on a date if I can’t see, girl?” You gasped, even more mortified. “Or will my date be blind?! How will be able to see me and my cute outfit?!”

Your friend just laughed. She knows you’re not the brightest crayon in the box, but you’re just too cute and sweet. “Honey, no! A blind date is when you meet someone you’ve never seen or met before. Someone else sets the date up for you.” Your heart resumed its normal pattern and you relaxed into the water. “Ohhh,” you realized with a giggle. “Well, if you’re setting it up, can you tell me anything about him?”

Your friend refused, much to your dismay. “Nope, but you’ll meet him later this week. Saturday night at 7 PM, don’t be late. I’ll give you all the details before then.” You hung up, a bit nervous but excited, already picturing your outfit for the day.

The Saturday of Valentine’s Day weekend, you go to the cafe your friend tells you to go to which is only a few blocks from your apartment. You dress in a pink sweater that does nothing to hide your voluptuous bosom and a pretty, cherry red skit that hugs your tummy and voluptuous ass, the damn thing so short that the ruffles stop mid-thigh, a sliver of your asscheeks seen whenever you bend over. You pair your V-Day outfit with some warm stockings and high black boots before putting on your favorite fluffy, pink coat.

An hour later after putting on some vanilla-scented body spray and giving your lips a slick of your favorite Fenty Gloss in a sparkly pink, you stand in line to order your food, hoping that will ease your nerves over today. Because your friend loves you so much, she set you up for two dates today: one at the cafe and the other later tonight at your favorite bar.

Your first date is a redheaded hunk, according to your friend. “He’s got red hair and he’s a fucking giant,” she giggles. “And he’s SUPER fine. You’ll know him when see him.” You melted at the details. “I do like big guys,” you sigh dreamily. Your second date is just as fine, but a hothead. “My friend works with him at his agency and apparently, he’s got a mouth.” Your friend rolled her eyes. "The dude is like a pit bull, but he's so fucking sexy.”

“I’m a little nervous though,” you mumbled, starting to feel insecure. “You think he’ll like me?” Your friend looked at you like you were insane, making you laugh. “Who wouldn’t? You’re adorable!”

And you feel adorable when you go next to the counter and the cashier’s eyes shoots straight to your tits. You don’t notice, too busy feening for some sweet, sugar coffee. “Hi, can I please get a peppermint mocha latte with two pumps of caramel, please?” You are so damn cute that the guy blushes and quickly rings you up. You pay and thank him when you get your drink before walking off, but stop when something captures you.

There, hidden behind a glass container behind the counter, are a bunch of seasonal-flavored doughnuts lined up in a row. Your eyes immediately go for the one coated in pink frosting, powdered sugar, and red and pink sprinkles. “Oooh,” you coo to yourself. “So pretty.”

“Agreed,” says a raspy, sexy voice from behind you. You turn a little too quickly and a bit of coffee sloshes over the top of your drink and onto the crotch of the guy standing behind you. “Oops, I’m so sorry!” you gasp. “I didn’t even see you! Oh, it’s gonna stain! Here, quick!” You quickly reach for a wad of napkins and begin to dab at the man’s crotch, not even realizing how it looks.

Still not even bothering to look up, the blonde furiously blushes while the redhead behind him stifles a laugh. “That’s quite okay,” he chuckles. “At least now he smells like peppermint down there.” The blonde growls like he wants to commit murder. “Plus, Katsuki was standing way too close to you in line, weren’t you, ‘Suki?”

You hand the napkins over to the blonde, hyper focused on the nickname. “‘Suki,” you giggle. “That’s such a cute…” Your words die in you that when you finally, finally, look up into the eyes of the two finest, sexiest men you’ve ever seen in your life. One of them has long, red hair cascading down his broad shoulders, fanged teeth that flash at you as he smiles, friendly, crimson eyes, and piercings––dangling from his ears, embedded in his eyebrow, and snakebites in his bottom lip. The other sports a platinum blonde undercut and a scowl that slightly softens at the sight of you. He, too, has crimson eyes that widen at your pretty face and outfit and one piercing in his plump bottom lip. The only things similar about the duo are how tall, buff, and sexy they both are. “Name,” you weakly finish. “I-I’m Y/N.”

The redhead grins, putting his big ass hand out for a shake. “Ejirou,” he says, “but my friends call me Kiri.” You do so, noticing how calloused his palm is and how much his sweater stretches against his pecs. The blonde has the same issue, his V-neck shirt way too tight for his toned body. “Bakugou,” he grumbles, giving you an intense stare that makes you melt on the inside.

Those gears in your head start turning and you gape at the duo. “Wait…I know you two!” you gasp. “You guys are those superheroes, right? Dynamight and Red Riot!” Kiri tosses his head back and laughs while Bakugou glares daggers at you. “Damn, could you be any louder?” he growls. You cover your mouth, flushing with embossment. “Sorry!” you whisper. "I’m just a big fan of you two! I almost didn’t recognize you in normal clothes. I have your posters and all of your merch!”

Kiri gives Bakugou a look that he would seeing a cat do something cute. And that is what you are: a cute little kitty. Something adorable and sweet yet you have a sexiness to you that both men are coming to find. “Well, it's always a pleasure to meet a fan. Especially such a cute one.” He grins at the way you giggle bashfully. “I’m guessing you’re a fan of sweets? Me too. I was actually planning on getting one of those for my boyfriend, my date, and I.”

You notice Kiri gaze at Bakugou when he says “my boyfriend” and you quietly gush to yourself. “Oh, you two are dating?” you coo, much to Bakugou’s dismay. He’s so cute when he blushes! “That’s so sweet! Here, I’ll treat you guys to ‘em to make up for that nasty spill.”

Kiri is just about ready to scoop you up and take you home with them when you dig into your bag for your Hello Kitty wallet. “Well, isn’t that sweet? You up for somethin’ sweet, Katsuki?”

Though Bakugou feels the same way, he still wants to feel you out and see if this “bimbo-esque” personality you’ve got going on is a fake. “It’s whatever,” he grumbles. “But you’d better get me the chocolate one. I don’t want the one with all of those sprinkles and shit on it.” You vigorously nod, taking out some cash. “You got it!” you giggle and hand them the cash. After getting back in line, Kiri orders one chocolate and two strawberry donuts and his and Bakugou’s drinks.

You thank the cashier when she hands you each pastry individually wrapped in a paper bag, nice, warm, and toasty from the oven. You turn to the pros and hand them the treats. “Here you guys go,” you sweetly say. Bakugou grumbles as he takes his while Kiri gives you a big gigawatt grin. “Thanks, cutie,” he chuckles. You expect them to start eating them, but you’re shocked when Bakugou hands one of the strawberry ones to you.

You freeze, confused. “But…this is for your date,” you say, completely clueless. “Aren’t you gonna give it to them?” Bakugou pinches the bridge of his nose like a dad with a dumbass child. “Oh, my God,” he groans. Kiri thinks it’s endearingly hilarious, holding his stomach as he laughs. “You are our date, silly girl!” he giggles. “Well, mine, technically. Your friend set us up to have dates with you at different times today, but we both just came together since we’re dating. I hope that’s cool.”

You gape at them, wondering if they’re serious. Two of the hottest pros on a date with you? At the same time?! You just about squeal with excitement. “Sure!” you giggle, your heart leaping for joy. “The more, the better! Let’s go sit down so we can get to know each other more.”

The two are happy to oblige. Kiri picks out a table in the back that is more secluded and near the window for the sights. Before you sit, you turn to Katsuki with an apologetic pout. “I’m sorry again about the spill, Bakugou.”

The blonde cuts his eyes at you and you can't tell what he’s thinking due to how permanent his scowl is. But that changes when he pulls your chair out for you. “Katsuki,” he replies. “And stop mentionin’ it. Besides, I know some other way you can make up for it later…maybe with your number.” He gives you a lopsided smirk that makes you tingle between your thighs.

“Chill,” Kiri cuts in, rolling his eyes. “Sorry about him. We don’t usually flirt too hard on the first date…but you’re just too cute to resist.” He boldly looks you up and down, tugging lightly on his bottom lip. You wonder what else he can do with his mouth as the cafe’s atmosphere becomes more tense between the three of you. “Well, I could say the same about you two,” you purr, a shy giggle leaving your lips.

That’s what the duo want to hear. Bakugou’s smirk widens, a twinkle in his vermillion eyes. “Glad the feelin’ is mutual, mama,” he whispers. “So you sittin’ or what? My fuckin’ coffee’s gettin’ cold.” You do so and you never want the date to end…unless it’s to spend more time with them in private.

NICHOLAS "NICO" BROWN (GANGSTA!)

You stand outside of a jazz club one chilly night, watching the passersby and wondering which one may be your blind date.

Worick told you all about his friend, Nico, but you’ve never met him before. You only know that the two work together and have known each other since childhood. You’ve only known Worick for two years after he helped you out of a messy financial situation with your asshole ex-boyfriend who, according to Worick, nearly shat himself when Worick threatened to bring Nico in to handle things. Apparently, Nico is well known throughout the town for being an extremely threatening and intimidating figure.

Why in the fuck would Worick want to set you up with someone like that? “He’s a cool dude, really!” he assured you over coffee. “Just…quiet. And it has nothing to do with the fact that he’s deaf. He’s just a quiet guy; a little awkward; introverted…”

‘Not to mention threatening and intimidating,’ you thought to yourself. “And you thought I was just perfect for this guy?” you scoffed. “What will we even talk about? How can I talk to him if he’s so quiet?”

“If you ask him something, he’ll answer you,” the handsome blonde replied. “And don’t worry too much about signing. He can read lips, but just make sure you slow down with your words.” Though Worick knows you know sign language due to your father being deaf since you were an infant. He can tell you’re still hesitant to say yes and folds his hands into a prayer.

“C’mon, sweetie,” he begs. “The guy has NEVER been on a Valentine’s Day date before and his last girlfriend was a fucking bitch who dumped him because he was deaf. All she wanted was his massive dick…sorry.”

He apologized when he saw your reaction. You didn’t need to know that his childhood friend has a big dick! ….Though you are curious to know just how big. “He needs someone kind, considerate, and sweet. You fit the bill! Just give him a chance, please?”

Before you agreed, Worick told you all about Nico’s ex, happy to do so when you asked. Apparently, she was the daughter of a rich family that he and Worick were in charge of guarding for a couple of months. She and Nico grew closer, had a sexual relationship, and Nico caught feelings while she didn’t, claiming it was because she didn’t want to date someone deaf due to it being “too much work”. You felt bad for Nico, especially when hearing how much it hurt him.

“You’re lucky I love you,” you sighed at Worick’s pleading stare. He clapped his big, calloused hands and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Love you too, sweetie,” he chuckled. “I’ll fill you in on the details later this week.”

He instructed you to meet Nico at an underground jazz club that Nico particularly likes for its seclusion and because no one bothers him too much in there. You dressed in a simple cocktail dress, flats and a cardigan to keep warm in the chill. Combined with your styled hair and soft makeup, you think you look pretty. You hope this “Nico" person thinks so too. When you look down the street among the other stores and taverns, you see a man walking up the road and you immediately know that your date has arrived.

He is big. Huge! The man is nothing but bulky muscle hidden beneath his black tee, baggy jeans, and leather jacket standing at six-foot something. He towers over you as he gets closer, so much so that you have to look up at him to actually look at his face. You can see why he's so intimidating. Other than the height and build, Nico carries himself with a roughness and a confidence that is unshakeable and undeniable. It’s scary…yet also thrilling. Kinda sexy too.

Under the soft glow of the street lamps, you get a good look at his features: he has a soft tan to his skin, thick, soft-looking lips, and eyes a deep, dark chocolate that you can get lost in forever. Silver dog tags hang from his thick neck that has your blood going hot and slight scars and bruises that you can see on his knuckles. You wonder, briefly, how he got them. He’s very, very handsome. Realizing he’s waiting for you to make the first move, you clear your throat. “Uh….hi!” you greet, giving him a wave. He nods, barely cracking a smile. “You’re Nico?” you sign with your hands and verbally ask. “I’m Y/N, Worick’s friend.”

Nico shakes your hand and you notice how big, warm, and calloused his palm is. It makes your pussy tingle embarrassingly so. “The teacher, right?” he signs with those thick fingers. “He told me you teach little kids.” You nod, smiling proudly at your occupation. “Yes, pre-K,” you giggle. “They’re adorable, but a handful.”

There is an awkwardness between you, mostly because Nico is such a silent guy. He also keeps that stoic scowl on his face, so you don’t really know what he’s thinking. “So what do you do?” you curiously ask. “Worick never filled me in on that. He just said you do ‘business’ together as Handymen.” At this, Nico cracks a crooked smirk. “Something like that,” he signs. That intrigues you a bit.

“Do you wanna go inside?” you ask, nodding at the door. “We’ll freeze before we get a chance to get to know each other more.” You give a small laugh to which he only nods, making you feel like a fish out of water. He opens the door for you, surprising you, and nods you into the warm club.

“Thank you,” you whisper, catching his intoxicating scent of cologne and lavender soap as you walk in. A bit of cigarette smoke clings to his clothes too, but it doesn't bother you much. The club is small yet cozy and dimly lit for a more intimate feel. Many people are at the bar or on the dance floor near the small stage where a band plays, the sounds of piano and cello mingling in the air.

After getting your drinks from the bar (you get a cocktail while Nico picks a beer), you pick a table near the window and Nico pulls out a chair for you. You flush bashfully at his actions, not taking him for such a sweet guy. “Such a gentleman,” you laugh as he pushes you in and takes a seat across from you. “Worick didn’t tell me that. He said you’re very quiet though.” He shrugs his broad shoulders in his jacket. “Just don’t got much to say,” he signs.

You nod as you shed your coat, revealing your naked shoulders and dress to him. You try not to be intimidated by his unwavering gaze. “That’s okay,” you sign and say. “We can talk about whatever you want.” The corners of his mouth quirk upward. “You sign really well,” he praises you. You smile proudly and bashfully, glad to have impressed him. “My dad is deaf and taught me how to sign since I was young.”

His smirk turns more dry and almost forced as he signs to you: “So me being deaf doesn’t turn you off?” he jokes. You immediately remember his ex and feel your stomach fall. “Not at all,” you sweetly answer. “Though I don’t like beer drinkers.” You wrinkle your nose at Nico’s drink. He raises an eyebrow, confused at your distaste. “It makes kisses taste like beer.” You lean forward a bit, giving him a secretive, flirtatious smile. “I like my kisses sweet.”

Your eyes tick down to his lips and he notices. But he barely reacts. If anything, he looks disinterested and your heart sinks. “Was that too much?” you ask worriedly. Did you go too far? Are you misreading this?

Before you can babble an apology, he stops you. “You asked what I do for work with Worick,” he signs. You nod, your heart thumping madly in your chest. He takes a deep breath before signing again. “We do almost everything, but I do dirty work,” he tells you. “I used to be a mercenary, but…I’ve still got human blood on my hands.” He pauses, watching for your reaction. That explains the marks on his fists. ”Does that bother you?” he asks, apprehension in his brown eyes. Before you can respond, someone knocks into the table, nearly toppling it over.

You squeak, grabbing your drink before it can topple over while Nico straightens the table. “Oh, my God, are you alright?” you gasp, immediately helping the guy onto his feet. He turns to you, all crooked teeth and bloodshot eyes. “Now I am,” he drunkenly chortles at the sight of you. “Damn, darlin’, you’ve got a body on you! You wanna dance?” You immediately step back, warning bells going off in your head. “U-Uh, no, sorry. I’m here with–“

The man turns to Nico who has been staring daggers at the drunk the whole time. “Him?” he cackles. “That fuckin’ cockhead? You can get someone better than that, darlin’. Someone who can take care of this bo–“

The drunk cuts himself off with a whine of pain as Nico grips his hand so hard that he cracks the drunk’s knuckle bones. Unbeknownst to you, the drunk tried to touch your behind and Nico wasn’t having that. Doesn’t he know who he’s fucking with? You gape at your date as he steps between you and the drunk, a hulking mountain, and gets deep in the drunk’s grill.

And then he opens his mouth: “Back up,” he warns, his voice deeper and raspier than you pictured it though loud due to his hearing. “Unless you want your head in this table, I suggest you leave her alone. She’s with me.”

He then releases the drunk who scampers away, clutching his hand to his chest. Nico composes himself and turns to you, an apologetic look in his eyes. “Sorry,” he signs. You don’t say anything and he is so sure that he fucked this up. Now you see who he is. Now you see that he’s just a Twilight. A mercenary. A no good–

“Nico?” you softly ask. His hurtful thoughts take the back burner when you step to him, looking up at him with those precious, brown eyes. “Do you want to dance?” you ask, signing the words to him.

He blinks at you, so sure that you were scared of him. When in reality, you were just trying to push the nasty thoughts of him kissing you silly and fucking you up against the table with that big, sexy body and massive dick out of your mind. Him defending you but still being a complete, gentle giant to you is getting you going completely, but it’s still the first date. You want him to open up and maybe a slow dance can do that for you. “Not much of a dancer,” he signs, looking sheepish.

You smile and offer your hands to which he takes. “I’ll show you how,” you giggle, pulling him along onto the dance floor filled with slow-dancing pairs. A soft, slow tune with a seductive saxophone and piano plays as you stand eye to eye. You place one hand on his shoulder as you interact your fingers with his with the other. Slowly, you begin to sway to the music, beginning to melt within the music and each other.

And when lean your head onto his shoulder, finally feeling at peace, Nico comes to feel that this is where you belong: with him, in his arms.

KEISUKE BAJI (TOKYO REVENGERS)

*Disclaimer: Baji is aged up (over the age of 18) in this drabble!

“You’re the worst blind date I’ve ever had,” you very boldly and irritatingly tell the annoyingly sexy man sitting across from you.

The attractive man with the long, wavy black hair, sharp eyes the color of milk chocolate, and a sharp, canine smile looks across from you at the table littered with remnants of your Italian dinner. Baji is his name apparently, a close friend of Mikey’s and one of his gang members. You never understood that gang shit, but they never give you problems.

If anything, Mikey’s gang ‘Toman’, protects you and makes sure you go about your days without any bother. “I’m guessin’ you’ve been on many blind dates before me?” Baji suggests as he chews on his pasta. “Huh. That’s a shocker.”

You sharply squint at him, catching onto that shade. “Why is that so shocking?” you ask, digging your nails into the table with how irked you are. You can’t believe Mikey set you up with him. It’s been twenty-five minutes into the date and so far, each conversation was an argument and shot after shot. Your personalities clash horribly, not to mention every woman in the place has their eyes on him. And he knows it! Not to mention that he’s an extreme messy eater (which led your mind to other places), he is way too into himself, and he has no idea how to act in a classy setting like an Italian restaurant.

He’s a wild. He’s argumentative and hot-headed. He’s a rugged, tough-as-nails, roughneck dude…and he’s turning you on.

Baji leans back against his chair, widening his legs in a way that makes you want to scream. Why the fuck does he have to be so goddamn fine but such an asshole? Is God punishing you? “Well, bein’ the fact that you’re the very definition of ‘a stick in the mud’,” he explains, “and a tighter than a drum, I can hardly believe how any guy sat across from you at a table. At least you’re pretty.” He goes back to eating his pasta like he didn’t just insult you.

“Excuse me?” you hiss, feeling your blood boil. Thank God for your dress or else, you’re sure you’d boil over from the anger you feel. “And I can’t imagine how any self-respecting woman can sit with a lowlife, cocky, smart ass narc like you. And unlike me, your looks do nothing to take away any of that.” Baji’s thick, black eyebrows raise at the shot you took. “And you’re snarky,” he chuckles. “Lucky for you, I’ve got a thing for snarky girls.”

He uses his sinful tongue to lick a bit of sauce from his bottom lip. You catch a glint of metal on his tongue as he does and you realize that he has a tongue piercing. ‘Fuck,’ you think, clenching your thighs beneath the table and gripping the hem of your dress. You lean your hand against the bridge of your nose, feeling a headache coming on. “I can’t believe I said yes to this shit,” you sigh into your hand. “Fuck the $50. I’m gonna have to tell Mikey that–“

“Mikey?” Baji cut in, pausing from eating. “Mikey put you up to this?” His brown eyes widen in shock and you feel a spark of joy at shutting him up. “Yes,” you proudly say, venom in your tone, “he did. And you know why? It’s because no other girl wants to date you. You’re unromantic, you’re a slob, you’re always looking for an argument, and you seem to push every single guy’s buttons in here.”

He stares at you for a moment, open-mouthed and wide-eyed, and then he begins to laugh so loud that the others in the restaurant look at him. You hide behind your hand, embarrassed. “Oh, shit!” he cackles. “I swear, that motherfucker is desperate to find me somebody.” You nod, pushing your dinner to the side. “Agreed. Why he ever thought I would be a perfect match for you is beyond me.”

Baji looks at you now, an unreadable expression on his face as his smile fades. “Maybe it’s because you’re such a fuckin’ brat,” he replies though his tone is different. You stare at him in disbelief, scowling. Did he really just say that? Deadass?

Baji smirks at your reaction. “You heard me: B-R-A-T. You’re a brat and fortunately for you, baby girl, I’m just the guy to handle a chick like you.” He leans in toward you, folding his ringed knuckles beneath his chin. “Someone who doesn’t shut the fuck up or know her place.”

“Know her place?!” you snap, earning the attention of the restaurant. He barely reacts, though his smile grows and a strange twinkle appear in his eyes. “You know what? Fuck this and fuck you. Why you even have an ex-girlfriend is beyond me if this is how you talk to them.” You stand up in your pretty, body-hugging dress and grab your coat. “I’m leaving,” you huff, snatching the coat on. “Have a good Valentine’s Day, dickhead.”

Without another word or waiting for him to respond or even stop you, you leave the restaurant and step out into the cold February night. You barely get down the street before you hear your name being called. You turn, seeing Baji jogging towards you, those black locks flowing in the wind. “Y/N!” he calls in his deep ass voice. “Hold up, wait!” You don’t know why you stop, but you do, putting a hand on your hip. You glare at him and pout those plump lips when he finally stops in front of you. “You left your dessert.”

He presents a small brown box to you and opens it to reveal a small chocolate fudge cake with chocolate mousse on the inside and Godiva flakes coating the top. “I didn’t order any dessert,” you say in a tight voice. He smirks down at you, standing several heads taller than you. “I know; that’s why I ordered ya one. C’mon, you don’t like chocolate cake?” You look back down at the cake and close it before he hands it to you. “What, is this an apology?” you snort. “Sorry, man, but you’re gonna have to try much harder than–“

“You’re wonderin’ why I have an ex, right?” he interrupts you. You pause, confused, but he just smiles mischievously at you. “I have an ex, and many of them, because I’m an asshole, unfortunately. Force of habit.” He shrugs, but actually looks guilty for it. “But I’ve had many girlfriends because I know how to tame them.”

His smile is flirtier now, creating more of that sexual tension that you felt at dinner. You still stare at him, speechless, and he figures that you’re clueless about what he means. “I put it down,” he explains. "Give good dick. Knock their boots. Am I makin’ any sense here?” You roll your eyes, ignoring the thoughts running in your head of just how good he is in the bedroom. “I know what you mean,” you snap. “So why the fuck are you tellin’ me this?”

Baji smiles at you, his canines glowing at you as if they are illuminated by a light within them. They thrill you; bring a ferocious and needy part out of you that you didn’t know was even there. He takes a step toward you, getting closer, until you can reach up and kiss him if you want to. “Because I know you’re attracted to me,” he murmurs matter-o-factly. “What, you think I can’t see it? The way you squeezed your thighs tight together at the table. The way you kept starin’ dead at my hands. The way you’d get so lost in thought, as if daydreaming about somethin’ else way more exciting.”

You flush embarrassingly, more at your behavior than the fact that Baji noticed it. You can’t help how attracted you are to him. But Baji doesn’t want you to be embarrassed or ashamed. He wants you to want him the same he wants you. “Lucky for you, mama,” he purrs, the pet name making your pussy jump, especially with his voice, "I’m just as whipped for you, especially in that dress.” His fingers lightly glide down your arm, sending shivers down your spine. “I’m sorry about tonight, but I can show how sorry I am in other ways if you want me to.”

You can tell he genuinely means it and isn’t just trying to get in your pants, but even so, you still scowl up at him, your jaw set and eyes narrow. “And why do you think I’ll say yes?” you question. He just chuckles, still flashing you that sharp, sexy smile. “Because you know I’m the only one who can handle that bratty ass of yours.”

He then turns and waves a hand. You don’t know what for until a taxi suddenly glides over to the curb and stops. Baji walks to the backdoor and opens it before looking back at you expectantly, his eyes molten with lust. “Now get in the fuckin’ car, Y/N.” You know you shouldn’t get in the car and go anywhere with him, but you can’t deny how much he makes your pussy throb. So against your better judgement, you crawl into the backseat of the cab and tell the driver your address.

Hours later after being stripped out of your dress, shown extensive foreplay, and having your pussy eaten like Baji hasn’t had anything to eat in decades, you find yourself being fucked against the wall with your arms and legs wrapped tight around the long-haired, tattooed man who holds you against him as he pummels his thick, hard cock into your tight, wet pussy again and again. The bedroom is filled with the sound of your mixed moans and skin slapping against skin as he pistons his hips into you, making you see stars.

It doesn’t take long for your pussy to start quivering around his cock, squelching and dripping the more he fucks it. You’ve never been fucked like this in your life and you’re able to hold back anymore. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Baji!” you practically scream. “Can’t…can’t take it! I’m gonna cum!”

Baji shakes his head, gripping your hair with one hand while he hikes you up onto his waist with the other, showing you how lightweight you are to him. “Uh-uh, bratty girl,” he huffs. “Not yet, mama. I need to feel more of this pretty pussy flutterin’ around me.” He thrusts harder, faster, drawing whines and sobs out of you. You begin to claw at his back where a large tattoo dedicated to Toman is inked into his back muscles. “You cum when I say, understand?” he growls into your ear.

You weakly nod, willing to do anything he says if that means you can cum. “Now shut the fuck up, and take this dick.” You do so, stopping your protests as he fucks you stupid until you cream all over his cock while he fills you up to the brim…but of course, you only do it when he says so. You find that you love doing what he tells you to.

When everything is said and done, you both crumble to your bedroom floor and Baji pecks your cheek. “Best blind date ever, right?” he chuckles.

BENIMARU SHINON (FIRE FORCE)

*Note: Reader is Goth!

“God, kill me,” you sigh, standing in front of the theater doors. “Why did I agree to do this? He could be a serial killer or something!”

You contemplate leaving, but you already promised your best friend that you’d go through with this stupid blind date on this stupid ass holiday. “Please just try and go along with it for tonight, Y/N!” she practically begged. “I promise he’s a nice guy! And I already told him you agreed! Just give it a chance and I promise you that I’ll never bother you about dating again.”

You groaned, sitting across from her at a bar. “Fuck,” you sighed. “Fine. Can I least pick the movie?” Your friend eagerly nodded, so you purposely picked a romance/horror movie marathon showing that the theatre does every year for Valentine’s Day. The kind with blood n guts, gothic vampires, and slashers. Surprisingly, the guy still agreed to come much to your dismay and you had no choice but to come out.

You know that your friend did this as a way to get you to start dating. You swear she thinks that one of these days that you’ll hang yourself from the shower rod with how lonely you are…and this has zero to do with you being goth. Though you love the color black, but you’re not depressed. You love dark makeup and rock music, but that’s what you love. You’ve always adored gothic fashion and the aesthetic, so that’s what you live.

However, some people think it’s weird. Though Tokyo is full of eccentric and different type of fashion, goth isn’t particularly “popular” in your Black family or side of the city. And it certainly isn’t popular with the guys. You don’t care. You love yourself and you’re not about to change for anyone. So you dress in your finest black attire with a mini leather skirt, thigh-high stockings, and boots that make you feel powerful and sexy. Your makeup is dark, your mascara is sharp, your nails are as long and sharp as claws, and chains drip from your leather jacket.

You wonder what your date will be like. Apparently, he’s a well-regarded and respected officer in the Special Fire Force, among the strongest there is. But you don’t recognize him when he comes up the road from his side of the city. He is tall and has a lean build that is hidden behind a black sweater and baggy jeans. His locks of black hair hang in his face, but not enough to hide his different set of eyes: his right pupil is a red circle with one black dot in the middle while his iris is black; his left is red with a white X in the middle, reminding you of a game of tic, tac, toe.

“Hey,” he greets easily. “You waitin’ for someone?” You scowl at him, crossing your ams over you chest. “Why are you asking?” you ask sharply. The stranger raises his big hands in defense, taking a step back. “I’m not trying you, I promise. I’m just wondering if you’re this Y/N that’s supposed to be waiting here for me.”

You squint at him, cocking your head to the side to see him at a different angle. “Benimaru?” you question. “Huh. You don’t look how I thought at all.” He is handsome but not enough to knock you off your game. He quirks a small smirk and you have a feeling that this dude don’t smile often. “I hope that’s a good thing,” he wryly chuckles. “For the record, you’re not bad on the eyes either…if that’s what you meant.”

You don’t acknowledge his compliment or react even though your stomach flips. You’re not used to anyone complimenting you on the account of your black lipstick and mascara. “So should we go in or stay out here to freeze to death?” you sarcastically ask. You huff and turn on your heel before Benimaru can even answer or follow you.

He easily beats you to the door on his long legs and opens it for you, towering over you as he does. “Is sarcasm just natural for you?” he asks, dry humor in his voice as you step into the theater. You feel a pang of guilt at your behavior. It’s not his fault your friend orchestrated this.

“Sorry,” you apologize. “I’ll admit, I’m not too hype about being here. Dating isn’t really my thing, but my friend insisted I come on this stupid blind date…no offense.” Benimaru barely blinks at you walk to the ticket counter. “None taken. My friend, Konro, swore I needed a Valentine’s Day date when the whole holiday isn’t even a holiday. It’s pure BS.”

“Ugh, agreed,” you scoff, rolling your pretty, brown eyes ringed in mascara “It’s just a way for companies to continue to capitalize off of hopeless romantics and couples. Not to mention all of that pink.”

Benimaru nearly misses that, too busy thinking about how pretty your eyes are. “I’m takin’ you don’t like pink?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you. “Not that your clothes are a dead giveaway or anything.” His interestingly alluring eyes tick up and down your outfit, making you feel hot under all of the leather. “I just like black,” you laugh. “But don’t get me wrong; I wear other colors sometimes, but only on a minuscule level.”

“Your friend said you were a gothic chick,” he chuckles, giving you a mischievous smirk. You send it right back as you take out the two tickets your friend sent you for the movie. “As gothic as they come,” you retort. Benimaru just hums in response, particularly liking you in that mini skirt and the way it swishes around your thighs.

After buying the tickets, you two wander into the small waiting area where a bar, a cafe, and an arcade occupy the space. “So the movie starts in about fifteen minutes. Should we head in now?” Benimaru doesn’t answer at first, too busy staring at the arcade games. “Nah,” he replies, nodding at the flashing, noisy games. “We can kill some time in here.” He begins to walk over, expecting you to follow. “Your friend also said you’re shit at racing games,” he says with a smirk shot your way.

“Not true!” you scoff, crossing your arms. He shrugs pausing in the threshold of the arcade to wait for you. You finally give in, taking off your jacket to reveal your black crop top. “Fine, but only if we got time for the shooting games too. I wanna kill some zombies.” Benimaru nods, secretly laughing to himself as you follow him into the arcade.

You spend way more than fifteen minutes in that bitch, playing all the games you can. Benimaru is good at almost everything, playing each game with skill and precision. He lets you win most of the time, just liking to see you smile and laugh in pride when you win a racing game or beat him at ping pong. During the zombie game, you get overrun by the undead while holding your plastic machine gun and you feel him lightly touch your elbow to point the gun straight. His touch sends shivers all over you. You win the first half until you run out of time and Benimaru smirks at you. “I totally helped you with that,” he sniggers.

You also play basketball, shooting them repeatedly through hoops. He always gets the farthest hoop and the highest points, winning every round. “You only won ‘cause you’re taller,” you huff, bumping your hip with his as you walk by. It gives him the perfect opportunity to watch your ass sway in that damn skirt, making him hard as a rock for you.

As walk to get something to drink, you stop at one game in particular: the crane game. It holds dozens of little plushies that you’re obsessed with, including the little black plague doctor with its big eyes and fluffy beak. Benimaru smirks at you staring at the game, walking up beside you. “I saw you looking at this thing the whole time,” he says. "You couldn't have been any less discreet.”

“Shut up,” you grumble, still staring at the plushie. He notices and pulls out his last arcade coin. “What, you want it?” You quickly shake your head, turning to leave. “We’re gonna miss the movie anyways, so–“

“Fuck it,” he carelessly interrupts, shocking you. “You obviously want that penguin, so I’ll get it for you.”

You roll your eyes, sighing. “It’s not even a penguin; it’s a plague doctor Squishable. It ain’t a big deal for me to have it, Benimaru.” But your date just glares at you as he bends down to put the coin in the slot. “And it ain’t a big deal for me to get it for you,” he argues. “If we miss the movie, we’ll just go for food.”

You are floored by his stubbornness and refusal to give up until he’s made you happy. How can that be? You only just met and yet here he is, using his last coin to try to get you a stupid plushie! You watch with bated breath as he plays the game, moving the crane slowly as he fixes his eyes on the plushie. Once he’s moved the crane right over the plushie, he hits a button, causing the crane to sink down into the sea of stuffed animals. The crane’s hooks latch onto the peak of the plushie and, slowly, he moves it over to the opening in the corner to release it.

The crane plays music and lights up in victory as the plushie rolls down the chute into Benimaru’s hand. He turns to you, an unreadable look on his face. “Here,” he says passively. “I figured goth girls didn’t like cute shit like this…but he is kinda creepy.”

You take the plushie, just staring at it for a moment. All of the sudden, you feel weird. You feel tingly and butterflies flutter around in your stomach. That never happens, but it’s happening for this guy! “Thanks,” you softly, and very shyly, say. Benimaru shrugs like it isn’t anything to him, but it is to you. “Y’know, the movie marathon is gonna be showing another night too…” You trail off, looking down at your shoes to avoid seeing his eyes.

“So you want another night with me?” he asks. Quickly, you turn on your heel and stomp out of the arcade, leaving him utterly confused. “What?” he calls after you, sounding genuinely baffled. “It was just a question!”

A second night with him does happen two weeks later and you do see the midnight marathon, but neither of you pay any attention to the first move that plays. You’re too busy bouncing on your date’s thick, veiny cock in the darkness of the theater to watch the film, biting back your moans despite the seats being empty. Benimaru softly grunts and moans into your ear as your walls flex around him, his eyes transfixed on the way your ass jiggles as he lifts up your skirt.

“Fuck, Beni!” you moan. “Y-You’re s-so fuckin’ big!” You grip his thighs with your long nails as his dick stretches you out in the best way, a delicious ache coming in your calves with the effort it takes to bounce on him. Benimaru stands up and bends you over the seat in front of you, beginning to fuck you from behind. He is fast and nails that single spot every time that makes you have to cover your mouth because you’re so loud.

“Shh, shh, baby,” he coos into your ear as he continues to pound into you from behind. “You don’t want security comin’ to find us, do you? Or maybe you do, you little slut, fuckin’ your date in the movie theatre.” He takes a fistful of your hair and pulls, much to your enjoyment of being slutted out in the dark. Anyone could walk in and see you fucking right now. It’s so naughty. So sexy.

The thrill of it must be getting to Benimaru too because he speeds up his thrusts, his balls slapping against your clit as his hand smacks against your ass, gripping it tight. “Shit, baby, you’re gonna make cum!” he groans, tossing his head back at the feeling of your tight walls squeezing around him. “Cum with me! Make that pretty fuckin’ pussy cum around my cock!”

You quickly begin to rub you swollen clit in time with his thrusts and soon enough, you’re cumming all over his cock. “Fuck!” you scream into your hand as your orgasm tears through you. Benimaru cums too, filling you up with a long groan that he bites back as best as he can among the movie playing. He lets you come down from cloud nine before pulling out, letting his cum leak down your thighs. He turns you around, pumping his cock soaked in your juices. “Not yet,” he growls. “Put it back in your mouth and taste yourself.”

You get on your knees, panties at your ankles and leather skirt hiked up. Benimaru wastes no time thrusting into your mouth, using it as his very own fucktoy, as he watches your brown eyes ringed in mascara stare up at him eagerly. When he pulls away to cum again, your black lipstick stains his cock, marking him as yours. “Fuck!” he gasps as he cums all over your pretty face, ruining your eye makeup. It is now but black smears down your cheeks as his nut drips all over your face and cheeks.

“Poor baby,” he chuckles. “Your mascara’s runnin’. I bet you worked so hard on it.” He takes a napkin from your movie snacks and dabs away the cum. “So cute,” he sighs, marveling at how utterly adorable you look. You giggle, feeling deliriously good and cute, just as he says.

Yeah. A third date is most definitely in the future for you now.

221 notes · View notes

dejwrites · 2 years

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❪ ♡ ❫ ─── ⠀ ⠀⠀ close to you ⠀ 〳 ⠀ n.brown ‵ ❪ ♡ ❫ ─── ( synopsis ) nicolas brown becomes close with a teacher in ergastulum's 8th district.

♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — handyman!nicolas x teacher!reader, female reader, female anatomy described, canonverse, reader knows sign language, soft!nicolas, written with black reader in mind, oral (m.receiving), riding/cowgirl position, protective!nicolas, he feels you up wink wink, i know the gansta fandom about 25 people pls don't let this flop besties, dej is practicing writing soft smut, i put sign language in quotation marks bc i have read in this guide that it's best to do that when writing deaf characters, my entry for @maydayaisha 'anti collab event', wc: 5.2k, minors dni !

♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — click here to join gangsta taglist ♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — click here for gangsta masterlist

BEING A TEACHER IN A CITY THAT LURKED WITH TWILIGHTS AND CRIME WASN’T THE EASIEST. To you, it felt like it was the people with the most money that controlled Ergastulum. It sucked that much funding didn’t go towards the school, but you worked with what you had with the money you made. Buying little treats for your students from Gramps snacks to pencils and notebooks for students that didn’t have any. As you sat at the desk, you could hear the sound of your student Isabelle coloring in the coloring book you provided for her as you waited for her parents to pick them up. You could tell the little girl was growing impatient with each strike of the clock due to how harshly she gripped the yellow crayon in her hand. While your classroom lights flickered, you kissed your teeth when you realized that the handymen you requested to change the bub didn’t come today.

Isabelle glances up at you and your face softens. The little girl was seven and you knew that she was slowly getting a grasp on the things around her. Especially given that she was one of the only deaf students in your class. Her parents had a thing where they swarmed themselves with so much work that they forget to pick up their own child. You were frustrated and angry at the fact that they would rather keep themselves busy with their work than bother to pick up their child or show up to her little school events. You hated thinking that maybe they thought her loss of hearing was a burden. That made your stomach form the most hideous knots at the thought of it and the doe-eyed look she was giving you at the moment was ten seconds away from having your lip quiver.

You were used to it by now. She didn’t live that far away from the school, her house wasn’t even that far from your house. However, you didn’t trust the wicked streets of Ergastulum to let the little girl walk home alone. So, you found yourself walking her home no matter what.

“My parents forgot didn’t that?” Isabelle signed to you.

You could see that her bold brown eyes were beginning to water, “I’m sorry. They probably got caught up with work again,” You signed back. “Just let me finish up this lesson plan and we can head out, okay?” You soon signed back and you watched as the little girl lifted her hands to attempt to sign something back, but her movements were put to a halt when you heard a knock on your opened classroom door.

That’s when you saw him. Nicolas Brown. He wasn’t a stranger around the school—he and his friend Worick always found themselves fixing little things around the building like that one door that never actually closes or the one toilet that doesn’t flush. However, you never actually talked to either one of them. You’ve heard faint whispers about how attractive they were from other teachers, but you minded your business and ignored the mere gossip in the teacher’s lounge. You took notice that it was only him which you understood considering that you just needed a light bulb changed in the room. That task surely wouldn’t need two men to do. You didn’t say much just like him, but it was Isabelle who took note of the way he moved. It was as if she could pick up on his body language.

The little girl watched as he stood on one of the chairs to change the light bulb. Soon pushing herself from her seat and she waltzes over to him in a state of curiosity. Her head tilted to the side watching as he was changing the light bulb that your students kept complaining about. When he was done, Isabelle took the opportunity to tug at the man’s black-colored slacks he was wearing. When you glanced up after finishing the last lesson plan, you nearly leaped out of your seat seeing how close Isabelle was to him. You weren’t particularly afraid of him being around children, after all, he’s been in the school many times, it was the fact that she was in his personal space. You quickly stood up grabbing a hold of Isabelle’s hand and dragging her back to her. “You can’t be so close to people you don’t know.” You signed to her. “Please apologize.” You add.

Isabelle blinked at you a couple of times before she turned to a confused Nicolas to sign her apologies to him. Your lips parted to explain to him that she was signing that she was sorry, but to both you and Isabelle’s shock, you watched as Nicolas signed perfectly back. With Isabelle, the news that her parents forgot to pick her up causes a grey cloud to lurk over her small body, but watching Nicolas sign back to her—her face lit up so bright that you felt strings tugging on your heart. It was the same look she gave you when you successfully signed something for her. A rich feeling of being comfortable around some people.

“Okay, Isabelle. Now that Mr. Nicolas fixed our lights for us, we should get out of here. I’ll walk you home.” You signed while also speaking out loud so she could read your lips.

She gave you a nod before going to collect her belongings, while you did the same. You didn’t even notice that Nicolas was still standing in the middle of your classroom. Still astonished at the little kid signing back at him so perfectly and then struck by the sudden beauty of seeing you and the way you were gentle with the young girl. It was an experience he had never been able to experience growing up, especially with being a Twilight.

“Thank you, Mr. Nicolas. But we should really get out of here, I would hate to have to walk home in the dark,” You signed.

You watched as the once stern look that was pasted on Nicolas’s face disappeared. His posture relaxed in front of you before he’s signing, “I will walk you two to your destinations.”

Your chapstick-covered lips parted to argue, hands already going up to protest against his kind gestures. However, the tug at your charcoal grey pencil skirt by Isabelle caused you to abruptly stop. She was perfectly fine with this gentleman walking the two of you to your destination and the way she proudly led you and Nicolas out of the building showed that. The sky illuminated a faded orange color as the sun was just setting, reaching its season where it became darker earlier than usual. As you clutched at your bag, your eyes never left the child that was skipping with joy in front of you and Nicolas. The both of you basking in the silence as your feet followed Isabelle towards her home. She’s done this walk so many times that you were sure she could remember her way home blindfolded. You just didn’t trust to let her walk herself home considering her hearing being gone.

You and Nicolas’s arms lightly brushed against each other as you were walking alongside the sidewalk. You could see small shop owners prepping to close their stores for the evening. Once you could smelt the sweet scent of cherry pie that always came from Isabelle’s neighbor's house, you knew that the three of you were near. You watched as Isabelle leaned forward to let her small fist knock on the door. You took a couple of steps placing your hand on her shoulders protectively. You had to have this talk with her parents and when the door was opened, the strong smell of alcohol overpowered the cherry pie scent when you saw her father.

Your face scrunched up in disgust while it seemed the grasp on Isabelle’s shoulder tighten. You didn’t want her to go in there when her father was in this state. You watched as he stepped aside to let his daughter inside the house which caused you to finally let her go. You knelt down to her sight giving her a smile, “I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m going to come so we can walk to class together.” You signed to her.

Isabelle gave you a smile and nodded with quickness. Her eyes soon averting to Nicolas—whom you assumed walked away already now that you’ve reached Isabelle’s house. She signed a quick thank you before rushing into her home disappearing further and further inside the home. You stood up smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles in your pencil skirt, “Mr. Newman, I know you and your wife are extremely busy with work, but it’s important to have someone pick Isab—”

SLAM.

You jumped at the harsh door slam in your face, subtly flinching at the aggressive action done by Isabelle’s father. Your breathing hitched in your throat and your fist clenched tightly before your hand went back to knock once again. This time your knock was as harsh as the slamming of the door. When you heard the door unlocking, you could feel Nicolas's presence next to you. When Mr. Newman appeared at the door, in a span of two seconds Nicolas collected him by the collar of his shirt. The grasp he had on the drunken man was so tight that if you looked closely, you could see Nicolas’s knuckles turn white. He tugs him closer so that his mouth was near the guy’s ear. You stood there and witnessed Mr. Novak’s face turn to the most horrified expression. You even could see that his eyes begin to water at whatever Nicolas’s voice croaked in his ears. Then Nicolas released the hold he had on him, letting the man scatter to the ground and cough up apologies towards you.

“It’s okay, just please make sure to pick up Isabelle on time tomorrow and sober. I don’t want to get the cops involved,” You firmly stated before you’re twirling around and walking away from the house.

Your heart was pouncing against your chest as you realized what just happened. He defended your honor as if he was your knight in shining armor and you didn’t know what to say or react. As the two of you were walking, him promptly following you to your next destination, you stepped in front of him. The puzzled look he gave you caused your heartbeat to slow down. You now were taking in his features. Now understand why the teachers whispered about him in such a nefarious manner. He was attractive, extremely attractive.

“Thank you, I’ve always had trouble with her father.” You signed. “I can walk home by myself now.”

Even when you walked away, he still followed you like a guardian angel and you didn’t bother to protest against it. Once you stopped in front of your home, you would glance around your surroundings. You didn’t need any nosey neighbors peeking through their curtains to see the local elementary teacher letting a man into her home. You couldn’t afford to be the gossip in your small neighborhood, especially when the elderly have been urging you to settle down before your pretty looks fade away. With your keys in your hand, you would fall back on your dorr before signing to Nicolas, “To show my gratitude for you, please join me for dinner. It’s okay if you’re busy though. We can always do it another time.”

You studied his facial features, once again taking in how gorgeous he was. So caught up in your own thoughts before realizing that he had accepted your offer. His fingers snap in front of your face to break the trace that causes your cheek to heat up like a burning flame. You uttered an apology as if he could hear it before turning around to unlock the door. When you pushed the door open, you would step inside first. You turned the lamp that was in the living room on after quickly kicking off your shoes to slide into the house slippers you kept near the door.

Your house was like a sacred tomb to you. It was filled with so many memories, both good and bad and you had a thing where you just couldn’t let them go. The house was given to you when your grandparents passed away, some of the furniture once belonged to them. “I can take your jacket for you,” You signed before watching him tug off the jacket to give to you.

As he was taking off the jacket, his black colored shirt lifted slightly revealing bandages that were wrapped around his torso. You didn’t pester him about it because after all, he was just a guardian angel that looked out for you and your student. You were sure you wouldn’t see him after your kind gesture in return. After hanging up his jacket, you would motion around the living room filled with the comfortable sofa. “I’m going to start dinner in the kitchen, make sure yourself at home. Do you want anything to drink? I have water, beer, wine, anything.”

“Beer would be fine.” Nicolas signed to you.

You gave him a smile and twirled away to the kitchen to give him a beer. You walked into the kitchen turned the light on and went to grab the beer to give to Nicolas. Once you returned, Nicolas was comfortably sitting down on your sofa. You just were happy that he felt comfortable even though you two were technically strangers.

Y/N, your grandmother would faint if she saw you had a complete stranger in this house.

You placed the beer on the coffee table in front of Nicolas and eventually returned to the kitchen to prepare dinner. When you cooked, you always cooked as if you were cooking for a big family. Even though it was only you that walked around this home, you still had this tendency to cook as you were cooking for a big family. Usually packing the layovers for students who didn’t have lunch or a homeless person you walked by on your way to school. You wore your kind heart on your sleeve proudly and you were confident about that. So in tune with cooking as you hummed the lyrics to a song that was stuck in your head, you nearly jumped out of your slippers when you saw Nicolas leaning against the counter in the kitchen with a book in his hand.

After putting something in the oven, you wiped your hands onto the towel as he held the book up, “Oh, I used that book to help me learn sign language for Isabelle.” You signed with a smile as stepped forward.

Nicolas was flipping through the book. It was the same one from when he was younger. He still clung to that copy also but seeing a copy that looked brand new caused his heart to feel heavy. His fingers flipped through a couple of pages to see if anything new was added to the book compared to when he was younger, but it was still the same. He went to return the book back to its rightful spot, especially since while you were in the kitchen he was snooping around your bookshelf that was in the corner of your living room.

You could hear Nicolas’s footsteps while you were moving around your kitchen grabbing plates and forks to set the table. You stopped in your tracks to look at him as he was about to sign something to you, but he stopped. Perhaps, you were overthinking it. You wanted to think that he wanted to ask more questions about you learning sign language. However, your brain was telling you a man like him could care less about such a moment like that.

An hour and thirty minutes passed until you two finally sat at the table to eat. You sipped at your wine letting your eyes watch Nicolas before going back to eating dinner yourself. Your eyes glanced down to toy with the vegetables on your plate before hearing a tap on the table.

“You learned to sign for just one student?” Nicolas signed.

You could tell that this question was the one that he wanted to ask early. His eyebrows were knitted together in curiosity before he’s leaning his body forward while sitting across from you at the circular dining room table. If he moved any closer–his knees would be brushing against yours under the table.

“Yeah, it was either that or she would have to go to a school that was too far away from her home.” You signed back. “She’s quite clever for her age, so she’s been helpful as I continue to learn.” You add before letting your hands fall to your side.

“I can teach you also,” Nicolas signed.

“You’ve done enough Mr. Nicolas.” You signed back. “I don’t want to be much of a burden in your busy schedule.” You sign.

“I’ll make time.” Nicolas signed back before his lips formed a sly smile at you that caused your heart to thump against your chest in complete love struck.

“It seems like that copy of the book you had was important to you. You can keep that copy, I have another one at the school.” You signed to him with a smile before you went back to enjoying his company and the dinner you cooked.

When Nicolas left your house with the book, his appearance in your life became frequent. Isabelle’s parents seem to get the memo to pick her up from school on time and her father even kept apologizing despite his harsh actions being pushed to the back of your mind already. Instead of walking Isabelle home as you would walk home, Nicolas would be the one constantly walking you home. Some days you were forced to ignore the dried-up blood that was on his shirt or staining the silver Twilight tag around his neck just to adore the moments between you two. ‘Cause, you cherished the walks to your house and dinners at your house before he’s rushing off with Worick. On other days you were stuck reminiscing each time his lips brushed against yours as he’s rushing out of your house with his katana. Gosh, you were lovesick.

Those days turned to weeks and those weeks turned into a month of you seeing each other and one evening you could tell that something was up. It wasn’t a feeling that left worry in your mind, but you could tell something was on Nicolas’s mind. He was like one of your favorite books that you didn’t get tired of reading. You knew when something upset him, you knew when something bothered him. You just knew him.

While finishing up the aftermath of dinner, you were getting ready for bed alone. You expected tonight to be special, but Nicolas had to run out to fix something real quick. Frantically signing something along the terms of Worick needing something. It frustrated you that he would dash out here like that for Worick, but he explained the relationship between the two of them and you knew that you couldn’t get in between that. Especially considering the circumstances the two have been through since they were little. You treated the rest of the night as if it was a night before you met Nicolas. You did a little planning for your class tomorrow and you read a couple of chapters of your book before eventually letting slumber take over your body.

Forty-five minutes passed of you being asleep until you could feel the flicker of your light being switched on. You sat up and instantly rub the sleep out of your eyes before noticing Nicolas’s figure in the doorframe of your room door. You forgot you gave him a spare key to your place. He took a couple of steps forward in your room until he was at the end of your bed. You finally rubbed the rest of the sleep out of your eyes as you notice him holding the bouquet of red roses, some of them being messed up as if he was running with them.

“Nic, it’s so late. I thought you said you had to do something with Worrick.” You signed in between a low yawn but you did push the pastel-colored duvet off your body before crawling towards his frame that stood at the end of your bed. You sat on your knees in front of his huge stature collecting the roses out of his hand.

You tiredly chuckle before bringing the roses up your nose to spell them. The scent of the flowers lingering up your nose before you’re looking up at him, “You left to get these so late at night.” You signed to him with a smile as you watch him nod.

“The very last floral shop was about to close, paid extra money for them.” Nicolas signed with a sly smile. “Sorry that they’re messed up, I wanted to get back here quickly as possible.” He soon adds.

You felt your cheeks heat up while glancing at the flowers on your lap. “Why?” You sign to him and your curious eyes meet with his dark ones. Those dark eyes that once were so hard to read to you were now filled with possible love.

“It’s been a month since we first met.” Nicolas signed.

If you were in a cartoon, you would most likely die and viewers would see your transparent figure float towards the sky. You didn’t even think about what today was, but here Nicolas was leaving in the middle of the night to get you flowers for today. You excused yourself quickly to tend to the roses, being sure to place them in the living room right so they can be the first thing you see when you enter your home. When you returned to your room, Nicolas's eyes followed you with every step you took—you took the place back on the bed. Sitting on your knees and now your eyes were filled with just Nicolas. Your mind was thinking about Nicolas. Your body needed Nicolas. Your hand reached for his belt to undo it as your eyes met his in such an innocent manner but soon you felt Nicolas stop you.

“You shouldn’t feel obligated to do this just because I gave you some flowers.” He signed to you.

Regardless of his words, you could see the tent that was built in his pants. You chewed at your lower lip before signing back, “It’s what I want and what you deserve, now let me take care of you Nic.”

You watched as Nicolas’s lips parted to argue before his hands fell to his side and let you continue to push down his pants. When you finally disregarded him of the black pants he wore, your mouth watered at the bulge in his grey-colored briefs. This would be the first time you’ve seen Nicolas's cock. Late and lonely nights when you were left eager for his body, you were stuck with your own imagination of what his member would look like. Or what it would feel like inside you or in your mouth. The mere thought of it caused you to feel dizzy and your panties to be soaked.

Your finger traced alongside the band of his briefs before you tugged them down also. Teeth nibbling against your lower lip at the sight. It was like your imaginative mind was true all along. You visualized that it was thick. It was quite pretty. His perfect-shaped mushroom tip leaked with precum and his tanned colored shaft was decorated with a visible vein that obviously was noticeable due to how hard he was. You noticed that it had to be a while seeing his trimmed down there, but you didn’t care. Your mind raced with thoughts about just being sure to make Nicolas feel better. You inched closer to the edge of the bed while Nicolas was standing in front of you, his cock waiting patiently for you. Eventually, you’re enclosing the tip of his member in your mouth with ease. The salty taste of precum stains your tongue before you let your tongue wrap around it, gaining a moan from Nicolas. You flattened your tongue to attempt to fit more of Nicolas into your mouth. Your saliva already pooling outside your mouth as you felt the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You pulled apart after gagging just a bit, the string of saliva connecting from Nicolas’s tip. You inched a little closer to palm at Nicolas’s shaft and eventually placed him back into your mouth. Your hand palmed at the portions of Nicolas’s cock that wouldn’t fit into your mouth while you let your wet tongue swirl around his tip.

With each second, you spent with Nicolas’s cock in your mouth, you could hear his low whines. You felt his hand on the back of your head while he guided your movement as your head bobbed up and down mimicking the way a person would dribble a basketball. You could even feel Nicolas’s hips driving forward a little just to feel your mouth around him some more. Perhaps, he was attempting to cherish this one moment as if you were going to be taken away from him the following day. You moaned with the taste of Nicolas on your tongue and your hand reached in between your thighs to rub yourself through your panties. You were so eager for more of Nicolas that you were growing impatient. Soon, you removed yourself from his member with a pop. You let your tongue glide across your lower lip as you were finally able to give your throat a rest. At this point, you could feel your panties stick to your folds due to the wetness. You craved Nicolas immediately. “How’d you want to do this?” You signed, initiating what position he wants to do it in.

After all, this whole session was to assure the feelings between each other, but you also wanted to make Nicolas feel like the best man in the world. You watched his cheeks stain a crimson color as he fiddled with his thumbs and soon was signing to you with a quickness.

And that’s how you found yourself comfortably on top of him completely naked and ready to please him. Your pussy glides across the shaft of his dick as he grabs ahold of your face to kiss you. His tongue shoves its way into your mouth causing you to moan into the passionate kiss. Your hips grind against his hardened member eagerly before you’re forcing your way out of the kiss. A string of saliva connected the two of you as you lifted up. Nicolas’s fingertips traced alongside your collarbone to down to one of your breasts. Your nipples hardened at the sudden touch before you’re reaching behind you to grab his cock. You lifted your hips a little and lined him up with your entrance. Your juices coated the tip of his cock and you watched as Nicolas’s face scrunched up in pure pleasure. You inched yourself slowly upon his cock and bit by bit you felt him stretch you out. You could feel comforting grasps upon your body as your eyes flutter open to be met with Nicolas’s.

You rolled your hips in a manner to confirm that you were okay. The once intense feeling of you getting used to Nicolas’s cock inside of you was overpowered by the feeling of pleasure. Your head fell back with each rock of your hips, your mouth stuttered out profanity words and Nicolas’s name. Your hand prompted on his chest to hold yourself up while riding him and with the help of Nicolas's huge hands he was sure to guide the movement also.

You’ve had lovers in the past, just like you had sex with others also. But for some reason, tonight was much better than those past lovers and flings. Was it because you knew the feelings were mutual? Or perhaps it just was the heat of the moment after Nicolas' kind gesture.

“Fuck—“ You stuttered out before using your knees to bounce on Nicolas's member. You slick coating his cock with each movement on him. When you made such a lewd movement, you felt Nicolas' fingers dig into the flesh of your skin before he gave up trying to control what you were doing.

You watched with tear-filled eyes as he was eagerly watching you take his cock like a big girl. His hands found a place behind his head as if he was relaxing and watching an entertaining movie. With each dip of your hips, Nicolas’s head seems to sink further into the pillow in pleasure. His teeth clamped down on his lower lip before his eyes stared in between the space of the two of your bodies. The pornographic sight of watching his cock disappear bit by bit inside your dripping wet pussy.

Nicolas's body felt like he was undergoing a fever. His breath hitched in his throat when he felt you bottom down once again and let out a broken moan. Nicolas went years without his hearing and had no problem with it, especially considering who he lived with and has been around his whole life. But tonight he ached to hear the way your moans sound or the way you were whimpering out his name. With not being able to hear, he has learned to read your body language quite well. Just by the way your face looked fucked out at the moment, he could tell you were enjoying this just as much as he was.

He watched as you continued to ride him, your breasts moving with each glide of your hips or each bounce you’ve done on his cock. Nicolas could read your lips as you were gasping out that you were close to orgasming. His large tugged you forward so that your bodies were close to each other. Your bare breasts were now upon Nicolas's chest as his hips bucked upward. With each rock of his hips upward, you could feel the pit that sat in your lower abdomen get tighter and heavier. Sweat droplets decorated your forehead as you could only moan out begging for more like a desperate housewife. The fact that Nicolas's strong arms were wrapped around your frame completely trapping you from running from his lustful thrusting like a madman only was helping you get pushed further to the edge. You could feel the tight grip on your limbs and soon felt Nicolas thrusting become sloppy. The warm feeling of his cum squirting inside you once he felt your walls pulse around his cock caused you to instantly kiss him on the lips.

Your mind and body were distracted from the passionate kiss you and Nicolas shared to tug each other off the shared cloud of the two of you cumming. You could feel his fingertips tracing something upon your back. Your mind finally was able to mentally focus on what he was tracing until you finally realized.

I love you.

TAGS — @eiflawriting @sleepy3 @islascafe @caribbeanwifey19 @happy-mimin @kristvns @a3trogirl @poohbea @shamelesshoefairy @berranurates @weasleytwins-41 @chaos-night @allukanezuko @chubbyblackthottie

#gangsta x reader #gangsta smut #anime smut #anime x reader #nicolas brown x reader #nicolas brown smut #maydayanticollab #black reader #x black reader #female reader #fem reader

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