#right now. he is laying on my chest and resting his eyes. he is so special and beautiful..... he is everything.

[dragonsholygrail]

gimme a loving monster husband harem that loves me for me and won't get angry or disappointed when I suck at life please.

I went like super high-fantasy with this. If you’d like a different version lemme know but this is the brainrot speaking for me right now lmao

You groan, putting your head in your hands from the stress you’ve been going through for the past few days, weeks, or was it months? You didn’t know anymore but you were so tired.

Your Monster Harem surrounds you, providing comfort where they can. Your Dragon concubine wraps his tail around you from behind, silently letting you know he’s there for you. Your Phoenix Hybrid and Wolf Hybrid concubines rest beside you. Your mermen and demon concubines spread out among the steps. All while your Minotaur concubine lays before you are your newest prize.

“Your majesty, you’re ruining the empire. The people are in desperate need of leadership,” one of your advisors dares to speak up, their concern evident if they risked speaking to you outright about it.

Your mermen and demon concubines hiss at the advisor, furious that they insult you. Your Dragon concubine growls in warning, eagerly wanting to set the advisor on fire for their disrespect. And your Minotaur concubine bellows in anger, shaking his head and ready to charge at them with your command.

They all knew you were trying your best. Even when you felt like you were constantly failing and sucking at life, they were always right there to comfort you. Showering you in all the affection you could desire. In their opinion you were a wonderful and beautiful Empress no matter what you did. They loved you endlessly and there was nothing that could take them from your side.

“I think you need to leave while you’re ahead. Or else you’ll be leaving without one,” your Minotaur concubine rasps, just waiting on your word to take this bastard out.

But you don’t, far too distraught to find the joy in murder today. And the advisor scurries out of there in the blink of an eye.

At the sound of a cry breaking past your lips, all your concubines turn to you. Their hearts aching to see their empress in such pain. Rushing toward you they hurry to comfort you, all of them surrounding you and reaching to hold even an inch of your precious plush body.

“Don’t listen to them, my love. You’re doing all you can,” your Phoenix concubine murmurs with so much tender affection it allows you to cry even harder.

“And it’s enough! More than enough,” your Wolf concubine quickly adds. He nuzzles into your neck, a rumble moving through his chest at your closeness.

Your tears move through you freely as you release all your pent up emotion. Your arms wrap around as many of your concubines as you can, basking in their warmth and adoration.

From behind you your Dragon concubine growls, still not liking to see his Empress in such distress. His forked tongue runs along the nape of your neck, causing you to shiver against your concubines.

“You’re doing so good. No matter what anyone else says. Trust us. Trust me,” he says lowly. His claw reaches out and softly turns your chin toward him, meeting your eye for a moment before descending down and kissing you passionately.

Your other concubines help you to lay back on your throne and get as comfortable as possible. Not wanting you to worry about a thing. As you get swept up in the hot kiss of your Dragon concubine, they swiftly undress you. All of them wanting to kiss you as well.

You gasp into the Dragon’s mouth as you suddenly feel the other’s mouths and tongues covering your sensitive body. They grab at you, their differing claws taking handfuls of flesh in their palms, loving your squishy body and how it welcomes their eager hands.

The Minotaur concubine reaches your precious cunt first. Groaning at your glistening lips, not knowing how quickly you get wet for them. His wide tongue runs through your folds you cry out, body jerking into his mouth.

The Dragon takes the chance to slip his tongue deep inside your mouth and you moan. All these sensations clashing together and creating a symphony of pleasure.

You desperately try and rock into your Dragon and his magical tongue, into the hands of your other concubines, and into the skilled tongue of your Minotaur all at once. Your pleasure skyrockets at the never ending pleasure unleashed upon you.

Your Dragon’s tongue somehow moves perfectly in sync with your Minotaur’s. Both of them dipping their tongues as deep inside you as they could go. Your Minotaur switching between sucking on your clit and filling your fat cunt with his wide tongue. Your dragon moving between exploring your mouth and brushing his tongue against yours. All of it making your toes curl and your body shake.

The Minotaur concubine is shocked at how quickly you gush all over his tongue, your release flooding into his mouth. He releases a long grunt and laps up your orgasm like a man starved. It has you whining and whimpering into your Dragon’s mouth.

Your other concubines go nearly feral at the sight of your release. Their hands and mouths stop their groping, biting, and licking to gravitate toward your sweet essence. They swipe at your thighs all fighting for a taste.

All of them trying to push your Minotaur out of the way to get to your pulsing core first. You sigh with contentment as you lean back against your Dragon, knowing you’re in for a long night of pleasure.

All the worries about your Empire fading into the background to wait another day.

[adragonprinceswhore]

Rumours

Aemond Targaryen x (Ex)wife

Chapter VII: Landslide 🎼 Masterlist

Summary: Life goes on, even with a broken heart. Can you and Aemond move forward as bandmates, and not partners?

Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, smut, feral lovemaking, P in V, toxic family dynamic, angst

Word count: 5000

A/N: As always, thank you so much for helping me my lovely Justine @theoneeyedprince 🩵

You dismiss another call from an unknown number with an annoyed flick of your finger and continue reading the document in front of you, eyes scanning over the deed poll forwarded to you by your solicitor.

Back to only carrying your maiden name. Targaryen officially removed.

It’s strange, like the marriage never happened.

You can’t decide if the thought is comforting or devastating. What would your life be like if you’d never met Aemond? No fervid passion. No ruinous heartache.

Last year, you couldn’t imagine a day when you wouldn’t be by his side. The man you called family. Your husband.

It’s official. You’re not family anymore.

Aemond’s voice is hushed as he speaks to his grandfather out on the balcony. He’d asked you to wait in the living room as he took the call, but not being by his side makes you feel restless.

You knew Otto would be ruthless; stooping impossibly low in order to make Aemond rethink his decision to leave the firm to pursue the band full time.

He finally emerges from the balcony, eyes half-lidded from exhaustion and face hollow. You shift your body slightly on the sofa, bringing your arms out so he can sit down next to you and fall into your embrace.

He does exactly that.

Your fingers come up to comb through his hair as you gently ask, “What did he say?”

Aemond just sighs as he moves to hide his face in the crook of your neck, arms leisurely placed around your waist.

You already know the answer.

That he was ashamed of having a quitter for a grandson. That Aemond will never amount to anything without his grandfather. That he’s too intelligent to think that pursuing a band could be a viable career path.

“What do I do now”, he mumbles defeatedly against your skin.

You tap his cheek lightly with the tip of your finger to make him look up at you.

Your eyes lock, and you place your hand on his cheek, gently stroking your thumb over his cheekbone,

“I am your family now, Aemond. We’ll always have each other”

You seal your reassurance with a kiss, and he eagerly reciprocates, pushing himself up to hover over you. You sink further into the sofa cushions as he surges down to kiss you again.

And again.

His kisses are slow and forceful, nearly sucking the soul out of you, leaving you breathless.

You soon find yourself in your shared bed, Aemond arms still wrapped tightly around you.

He lets his forehead down to rest against yours, and gazes into your eyes with an almost manic stare as he whispers,

“You’re my everything”

Each of his kisses, touches and whispers echo the devotion he feels for you, and warmth spreads like wildfire in your chest. This must be what it feels like to have someone love you entirely.

When the two of you become one, he rolls his hips against yours unhurriedly, sending pleasurable sparks through your body. It feels so, so good all you can do is moan, and you bring one hand up to grab a fistful of the hair at the back of his head, smashing his lips against yours in a messy kiss.

The only sound in the room, in the entire flat, is your matching breaths as you entwine pants and moans, lips never leaving the other’s.

You can hardly form a coherent thought as each of his thrusts makes his pelvis press against your clit,

“Don’t come yet”, he breathes into your mouth and kisses you again. You nod obediently.

He turns you so that you're on your side and lays down right behind you.

His large hand caresses the smooth skin of your thigh before grabbing your flesh, draping your leg over his hips as he begins to rut into you, a bit harsher than before.

You reply with a moan, letting him know how good he feels. Your hand searches his, still on your thigh, and you hold onto it for some stability as your body jolts forward with each harsh snap of his hips.

He goes harder, thrusting into you with his face pressed to you cheek, mumbling in your ear,

“Feels so fucking good, baby”

You moan again and move your face slightly to place another wet kiss on his cheek. They’re flustered, and the top of his ears are almost as red as his face. There’s a determined look in his eye that wasn’t there before, fiery in a stern way that doesn’t quite match your passionate love-making.

Using his arm for leverage, he lifts his body slightly, fucking you harder and harder. Your body gets pushed into the mattress and you find yourself on your stomach, one hand sneaking down to rub circles between your thighs. Aemond grunts as your walls clench down on his length, his face now shielded in your hair.

“I’d fucking die for you, you know”, he grits out, continuing his merciless pace.

Though your peak is nearing rapidly, rendering your brain nearly useless, you feel like something’s not right.

He sounds angry.

You turn your head from where it’s pushed into the mattress. He looks deranged; hair falling in front of his face and pupil blown wide, eyes filled with something you can’t really decipher.

But it’s not purely lust.

You call his name and bring your hand up to stroke his cheek, searching for his eyes. He keeps his gaze on your body, refusing to look up and meet your concerned frown.

“Aemond, are you okay?”

He dismissively grunts at your question, but slows down and finally meets your eyes.

Is he upset?

You’re not sure what’s going on, but you see that sadness reflect in his eyes; the same vulnerability that pops up whenever he feels threatened.

When he feels like he might lose you.

It’s usually obscured by anger, but now it seems too potent for him to suppress.

Staring into his seeing eye, you console him,

“I love you too, Aemond”

His expression falls.

His eyes shine with sadness.

It makes you sad too. If he’d only let you in on what makes him like this, you could help him; reassure him that whatever it is he fears won’t come true. But he doesn’t let you in.

And all you can do is watch.

The movement of his hips falters, and he says nothing, only breathes heavily.

The hand you have resting on his cheek slowly travels down to his chest, and you push him gently, gesturing for him to lay down on his back.

He follows your silent instructions without protest.

You turn around and move one of your legs so that you’re straddling him, hands resting on his chest. You slowly sink down on his cock, feeling whole again as it stretches you out in the most perfect way.

You moan and throw your head back, setting a slow, steady pace. Your hips move up and down, front and back.

Aemond’ s hands squeeze your hips harshly as he matches your rhythm, bucking up into you, losing himself to pleasure once more.

“You feel so good, baby”, you tell him, pace never faltering,

“No one could ever make me feel as good as you do”

He moans, one hand moving from your hip to your breast, cupping it and pinching your nipple between his fingers.

You sigh in pleasure and lay down on top of him, hands moving to cup his face. Your thumb strokes the marred side of his face, and you notice his gaze flickering away from yours. With a persistent grip, you push on the side of his face to make him look into your eyes again,

“You’re mine. And I’m yours”

Your lips meet his, and the kiss you thought would be slow and sweet turns heated as Aemond harshly grabs your body again, arms wrapping around your waist. He bucks up faster, fucking you harder, and with a startled, pleasure-drunk cry into his mouth, you abruptly peak. He follows with a loud groan, and moves his face to the crook of your neck again, just like earlier in the evening.

He holds your body securely against himself, and after a while, you try to pry his arms away and get off him, but he just mumbles into your neck,

“No, please”

You lay your head back down and close your eyes. Aemond is deadly silent, but you feel his breath against the skin over your collarbones, and something wet slides down the hollow of your neck.

Shut out and without being allowed in, you try to soothe him the only way you know how,

“I love you”

Two days have passed since your live show in Winterfell, and your phone won’t stop buzzing with incoming calls from unknown numbers.

You know they’re from journalists hoping to get a comment from you about the performance and your new song, the drama of it clearly being about your ex husband fuelling their thirst for gossip.

You’d spent the time since the concert in isolation, essentially doing nothing besides watching TV and eating takeaway in your hotel room.

You left Winterfell yesterday, boarding an overnight flight to Oldtown for your next show.

Today, you’ve finally found a reason to get out of the hotel room, planning on an afternoon looking around the vintage shops that are scattered around the narrow cobblestone streets of the quaint town.

You spend nearly an hour in your favourite boutique; a hidden gem a few minutes away from one of the more famous shopping streets of the city.

When you and Aemond were still together, you often came to Oldtown to visit his mum. Seeking some familiarity after her husband, Viserys Targaryen, passed away, she decided to move back to her hometown and hasn’t left since.

Alicent thrived in the town she grew up in, and whenever you came to visit, she eagerly showed you around all the places she’d frequented with her friends as a young girl.

Aemond, in turn, had shown you his favourite spots as well; bookstores, record shops, and organic coffee shops. You remember that one time he tried to convince you that the all-natural, no sugar brownie he’d ordered tastes just as good as the real deal. The face of betrayal you made as you took a large bite of the brick-flavoured monstrosity he’d dared call a brownie caused Aemond to release the most out-of-character belly laugh you’ve ever heard.

The memory still pulls your lips into a smile.

Stop it!

You try to shake your head in a feeble attempt to erase the train of thought. You need to make new memories here now.

Memories not tainted by him.

The last rays of sun for the day shine through the gaps between the ancient buildings cramped together on the streets when you decide to make your way back to the hotel. You pull out your phone to type in the address, still not familiar with navigating Oldtown on your own. The map on your phone shows that it’s a 15 minutes walk along the water to your destination, the perfectly idyllic end to a quite okay afternoon.

The sun quickly sets behind the stoney, worn houses surrounding you, and street lights illuminate your path as you walk, enjoying the calmness of the rather large city. Most people have returned home as darkness envelops the streets, leaving you alone on your way back.

You turn to walk down one of the sidestreets towards the hotel, when you suddenly feel a hand on your shoulder, pulling you out from your thoughts.

You abruptly stop and look back, catching the gaze of a man you’ve never seen before. He smiles at you in a way that makes the hairs at the back of your neck stand.

Still with his hand on your shoulder, he asks,

“Aren’t you the singer from Dragon Dreamers?”

“Yes”, you reply, unsure of how to assess him. There’s something in his intense stare that causes unease to chill you from within, yet you appear to be frozen in place.

You have been approached by fans on occasion before, but never alone in a somewhat unfamiliar city.

“I’m a huge fan. This might be a bit forward, but could I take you out to dinner?”

The hand he has placed on your shoulder squeezes your flesh over your jacket. His eyes are expectant, not blinking, and his voice is slightly strained, adding to your already uncomfortable state.

“Thank you, but I’m on my way back to my hotel, and-, I-, I need to get back”

Your answer is hurried and clumsy, and you hope the stranger will understand your discomfort and leave you alone.

“Oh, where are you staying?”

His eyes light up when he adds,

“I can walk with you”

“That’s kind of you, really, but not necessary, I’m okay. Thanks”

You try to hide the dismissal behind a veil of politeness, hoping he’ll take the hint and leave you alone.

You turn around to walk away, almost stumbling over your own feet as they move quickly over the cobblestoned streets.

The man doesn’t say anything else, but you notice him in the corner of your eyes. He starts walking in the same direction as you, only a few steps behind. He’s close enough to keep you within his sight, far away enough for it to seem innocent.

Is he going to hurt you?

Your heart beats faster.

Force himself into your hotel room?

You can hear your heart drumming in your ears, panic washing over you.

You don’t dare to look back at him, afraid that he might take it as another invitation to engage you in conversation, but he stays in the corner of your eye; like an ever-looming monster.

Luckily, there’s a small group of people walking ahead of you, oblivious to the fact that you’re being followed by an unknown man.

What would he do if they weren’t here?

Your steps grow quicker.

You glance at your phone; still a 10 minutes walk until you reach the hotel. The man behind you speeds up his footsteps as well, matching your pace while staying a few metres behind you.

You’re still too scared to look behind and properly face him. The small group of people walking ahead of you look like they might turn by a sidestreet at any moment, and fear pierces your heart at the thought.

Then you’d be alone. With him.

Maybe there’s a corner shop or something around here where you can pop in and spend enough time for him to get bored and leave?

Or maybe you can call someone to come and meet you?

Looking up at the buildings surrounding you, you realise that you recognise this street.

This is the area where Alicent lives.

Maybe he’s staying there?

Before you can think any further, your fingers press on the screen of your phone, going into settings, unblocking the familiar number before pressing the little telephone icon.

You hear two signals before the call is cancelled.

Fuck! Now he ignores your calls?

Your fingers move quickly as you type out,

“sorry someone’s following me I’m walking home please pick up”.

Barely a second passes before your phone buzzes.

“Hi! Yes, I’m just around the corner, can you see me yet?”, you ask in a way too hurried tone, ruining your own attempt at sounding casual.

Your voice is loud and high-pitched as you try to signal to the man behind you that someone’s coming to meet you.

Hopefully he’ll give up his pursuit and leave you alone.

“What street are you on?”

You can hear Aemond shuffling around on the other side; picking up keys and putting on his shoes.

You look up at one of the buildings, reading the name of the street,

“Yes, I’m standing on Gardener Avenue, where you told me to meet you”, you continue to babble, hoping the shadow behind you will finally stop following you as it appears you’re about to meet someone.

“Do you remember the way to the apartment?”

“Yes"

“Walk towards it, I’m coming out to meet you. Stay on the phone with me”

Aemond sounds calm, but there’s something urgent hiding in his stoicism.

“Yes”

The conversation dies out. You’re not really on small-talking terms, so trying to fill the silence between the two of you proves tricky. Despite the silence and awkwardness, the panic that had been sprinting within you seems to ease knowing that Aemond is there.

The group in front of you eventually turn down a sidestreet, and in the corner of your eye, you see the man behind you walk faster, coming closer.

Another wave of fear crashes over you, and your heart beats so fiercely your chest hurts.

Is Aemond coming?

Maybe if you pretend to see him, you’ll finally be left alone.

“I think I see you!”, you exclaim in vain, hoping the man behind you won’t see through your lie.

He’s right behind you, so close you can hear his laboured breaths. You can’t breathe.

But then, you see the familiar silhouette of a tall man with broad shoulders appear in quick and confident steps around a corner.

The unknown man behind you seems to retreat in an instant, but it doesn’t stop Aemond from calling out,

“Were you fucking following her?”

He’s gone before any further confrontation. Left is you and Aemond, alone on a dark, empty street.

Closing your eyes, you try to take a few deep breaths to ground yourself, still feeling unnerved from what had just happened.

Breathe in.

Hold three seconds.

Breathe out.

Hold three seconds.

“Are you okay?”

You don’t open your eyes.

You can’t look up at him, knowing that the flicker of hatred in his eye as he regards you will push you over the edge; push you to release the tears that have been waiting to spill since the strange man first laid his hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah, just need to get back to the hotel”, you mumble and inhale deeply once again to ground yourself.

It doesn’t help, not really.

The lump in your throat feels like a painful stone blocking your airflow.

You feel Aemond step closer to you, tenderly placing a hand on your elbow as he silently waits for you to continue.

You reluctantly open your eyes to look up at him, surprised to find his face reflect gentle understanding. The unexpected act of kindness pushes you over the edge and you let out a shaky breath as you feel the pent-up tears spill from your eyes,

“Sorry, it’s just-, I mean, nothing happened, but…”

One of your hands comes up to wipe away the tears that slide down your cheeks.

“Something could’ve happened”, Aemond finishes for you. He sounds like he usually does; stoic, but you can sense the hint of sympathy there.

“Sorry for calling you so suddenly, I shouldn’t have-, I didn’t know who to call…”

The words tumble out of your mouth ungracefully, matching the hurried pace of your still frightened heart.

“Don’t apologise”

He squeezes your elbow softly in reassurance,

“Come back to mum’s place with me”, he says, “It’s just around the corner”

“No, really, I’m fine! Nothing happened and I need to rest before tomorrow’s show”, you explain as more tears slide down your cheeks.

Fucking stop crying.

“You shouldn’t be alone right now. Come up, just for a cup of tea to calm your nerves. Please?”

Aemond’s voice is more gentle than you remember him capable of.

Defeated, you reply with a silent nod and let him lead you back to his mum’s home.

As you step into Alicent’s lavish apartment, you're hit by nostalgia so potent it makes more tears well up in your already damp eyes.

Everything smells the same.

Everything looks the same.

“Is she here?”, you ask, voice small and unsteady.

“She’s out having dinner with Cole”

Aemond takes off his shoes and neatly places them on the shoe rack. He moves to the kitchen to fill the kettle and you follow closely behind, discreetly sweeping the back of your hand against your cheek to wipe away the tears that keep sliding down.

Fucking pull it together!

Aemond flicks his hand towards the chair by the small, round table in the corner of the kitchen; the breakfast nook where Alicent would serve coffee and fresh bread in the morning whenever you stayed over.

It’s all so familiar, yet being here feels so different; almost taboo. Like you’re not allowed here anymore.

You sit down and place your hands on the table, nervously tapping your fingers together as you wait for Aemond to bring the tea over.

He places the flower-patterned cup with gold details by your restless hands and sits down in the chair opposite yours,

“Drink”, he encourages and takes a sip from his own cup, seeing eye watching you intensely.

You pick up the cup, experimentally sipping, letting the hot beverage warm you from within.

It’s comforting.

“Do you really tell yourself I never loved you?”

Aemond’s sudden question takes you by such surprise, you nearly choke on your tea.

Your eyes dart up from watching the cup in your hand to watch him. His expression is as calculated as always; not letting you in on what he’s thinking. Still, his voice is gentle, like it’s been since he came to your rescue.

“I-”, you begin, trying to come up with an answer to his absurd query.

Why is he asking you this now?

“I mean, sometimes it felt like you didn’t love me”, you answer truthfully, carefully observing his reaction.

He gives nothing away as he hums in response.

“You seemed miserable being with me”, you add, wondering if this is the long overdue heart-to-heart both of you have been avoiding.

“Sometimes I was”, he replies matter of factly.

You’re not surprised by his response, not really, but having your suspicions confirmed allows you to prod further,

“I guess I just wonder whether you loved me, or just the idea of me?”

You know you’re poking a resting bear, but you can’t help yourself. You need to know what he thinks about all of this.

About you.

Aemond doesn’t blink when he answers,

“You were my first love”

You feel that all too familiar lump in your throat reappear.

“It was all so new to me, caring about someone so much. Someone who’s not family. I didn’t know how to handle those feelings”, he admits and you have to stop yourself from letting the astonishment you feel from his confession show on your face.

It’s quiet for a while. You are too shocked by Aemond’s sudden introspection, and he’s still cautious about opening up, observing you expectantly.

After a few deep breaths and some soothing tea, you speak up,

“I know things have been hard for you Aemond, and I-, I really tried to understand you. But my sympathy for you wasn’t endless… It-, I ran out”

You really don't want to fight, you don’t think you could handle it in the state you’re in now, but being honest with your ex husband always came with the risk of him lashing out.

He sighs, leans back, and locks eyes with you,

“I know. Thank you for… trying”

And that’s it. The conversation dies, like it’s run its course. Just like your relationship.

Aemond calls a taxi for you to bring you the short distance to the hotel. Both of you stay in your seats, waiting for your ride in silence.

There’s still one thing you need to tell him.

“I really want this to work, Aemond. The band, I mean”

Aemond hums in response again, finger tapping rhythmically against the top of Alicent’s kitchen table,

“Me too”, he replies after some time of silence.

It almost feels official in a way, the fact that you’ve finally agreed with each other that the band comes first; even before your broken hearts.

The silence persists as you down the last of your tea.

You feel a strange mixture of emptiness and melancholy inside. It all hits you at once; the divorce, removing his name from yours, continuing on as nothing more than business partners.

It starts as a sting in your chest, but blooms out into a suffocating ache.

He doesn’t want you anymore.

And you don’t want him; can’t want him.

It does not matter how wonderful it had been at times. The pain of the heartache you caused each other weighs heavier. And there’s nowhere to go but forward, even if your heart breaks with each step.

Life goes on.

The performance in Oldtown is just as exhilarating as the previous lives had been.

The crowd is loving every second and the venue is packed.

You feel alive.

This is it.

This is what matters.

Your biggest hit from your first album, Landslide, is a permanent feature in any show you play.

You’d written it from the sidelines, watching as duty tore the person you loved most into every direction possible.

Tonight, as you stay on the stage with Aemond and your band members retreat backstage, singing Landslide suddenly feels different.

You shoot him a quick glance before approaching your mic to introduce the next song.

They’re shouting your name, shouting Aemonds name, and you think you hear someone yell out ‘the sound of the woman that loved you!’

Speaking with Aemond earlier today, when you agreed you’d prioritise the band over any dispute you had, has left you nostalgic. Singing ‘Landslide’ feels like offering a piece of your heart, the heart he had held in his palm, to him once again.

“I wrote this song about a boy who had to grow up too fast”, you say, and Aemond starts to pluck the strings of his guitar.

‘I took my love and I took it down’

‘I climbed a mountain and I turned around’

‘And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills’

'Til the landslide brought me down’

You’d never told Aemond you wrote this song about him and his grandfather.

There was never any need to. You’re convinced that he already knows it’s about them.

You can’t help but to look over at him; at the way his hands move gracefully over the guitar.

‘Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?’

‘Can the child within my heart rise above?’

Leaving his grandfather’s firm and subsequently leaving the path his entire life had led to had been tough for him, even with you by his side.

And now he’ll have to navigate this new course alone.

You still find yourself worrying about him; for the boy robbed of his vision, forced to grow up faster than most.

‘Can I sail through the changin' ocean tides?’

‘Can I handle the seasons of my life?’

‘Well, I've been afraid of changin'

'Cause I've built my life around you’

He’s had to adapt; had to rethink and relearn everything before.

He will be fine.

Maybe you just worry about him because you hope, somewhere inside, that he won’t be fine without you?

A selfish wish for him to need you.

‘But time makes you bolder’

‘Even children get older’

‘And I'm getting older too’

It’s time to let go.

For the first time since the beginning of the tour, you don’t feel an urgent need to escape to the solitude of your hotel room as soon as the show is over.

You move unhurried backstage, gathering your things, looking over your stage outfits, pondering if you’ll wear the same thing each night or mix it up.

Just when you’re about to leave, you see auburn hair flash by as Alicent Hightower enters the backstage area, throwing her arms around her two children, loudly gushing over how incredible the show had been.

You go back to inspect your wardrobe with your back turned to them, suddenly feeling stiff and awkward with your ex mother-in-law in the room.

You haven’t seen her in months, not since before the divorce.

As the chatter behind you dies down, the clicking of heels grows louder before coming to a halt.

You know she’s standing behind you, one gentle hand coming up to lightly tap your back.

You turn around with a forced smile on your face.

How do you act around your ex-husband’s mother?

Alicent’s large, warm eyes shimmer as she looks you over, grabbing your shoulders to pull you in for a hug.

“Darling, what an incredible show! You were absolutely fantastic”, she compliments, smiling wide.

You smile back at her,

“Thank you, Alicent”

“How are you holding up?”

Her tone is soft, and her hands stay on both sides of your shoulders.

“I’m good”, you reply shortly, not really sure whether you should confide in your ex-husband's mother or not.

“I’m so glad you can put your differences aside and continue to work together”, she says sympathetically, but her choice of words make you wince slightly.

“And now is your opportunity to be brave. You’re both such wonderful artists. Focus on the music, alright?”

“Yes”

Your answer sounds meek. Her words send a pang straight to your heart.

It’s all so final.

It’s all over.

You look into each other’s eyes, a thousand words said within mere seconds as you feel your eyes well up with tears.

Alicent offers you a sad smile before embracing you in another warm hug.

Silent, hot tears slide down your cheeks as you mumble into her hair, “Will you take care of him?”

She pats your head, hand sliding down to stroke your hair lovingly, And then she hums, sounding so much like her son.

“Mm. Thank you for loving him”

A/N: Thank you sm for reading!

[briseroyawritingsblog]

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒔

𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒎𝒂𝒏!𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒙 𝒘𝒊𝒇𝒆!𝒏𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

+18 minors do not interact. hurt/comfort, nursing wounds, blood, physical pain, emotional pain, very slow healing, mutant cure, kissing, cuddling, mentions of sex, happy marriage, fluffy ending etc.

𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 / 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

divider by @bunnysrph 💌

“Oh no no no!!” You sobbed slapping your husbands cheek gently to wake him up. You found him passed out, third time this week. His dress shirt drenched in blood, bullet holes decorating the front making you cry hard. Tears staining your cheeks as you quickly rushed to the bathroom for first aid kit and to pull out the harming bullets. “Please.. please..” you sniffled ripping the front of his shirt buttons scattering all over the place. Grabbing your medical pliers you didn’t hesitate to dive inside the bullet holes in his chest, pulling one after one out. You cleaned the blood in process, the fresh one which pooled out of his wounds. You couldn’t stop crying— your heart held so much pain and grief. “You can’t die on me.. not like this. God I love you so much please don’t..” you slapped his cheek gentle to possibly wake him but he wouldn’t. The healing of his wounds were so slow.. even slower than a week ago. You did this few times.. he woke up right after but now he wouldn’t. You cried against his shoulder gently removing his ruined dress shirt. You washed his chest gently with a warm damp cloth, his face too, his hands. You kissed his knuckles where his claws would come out but now he was only laying on your bed. “Lo.. please..” you sighed with pain climbing on the bed right next to him snuggling to his side. “I know your body aches, I know but just.. come back to me. I will take care of you” you sobbed kissing his bearded cheek caressing his chest where his heart supposed to beat wildly by now but it didn’t. Another wave of pain hit you. “Please..!” You cried even harder.

The faint heartbeat returned, you knew that he lived. He was just too tired, in too much pain to wake up, he needed rest. So much of rest. Although.. he swore that he would never take the mutant cure you feared that it was the answer to your prayers at the moment. Opening the drawer on your bedside table you pulled out the cure. You could use only a little bit to heal him, only a tiny bit. Lo hated that you’ve spend so much money on it, nearly your whole pay check because you wanted to heal him. He’d rather suffer and get through it alone than to use the cure. You cried desperately waiting another moment before gently injecting a tiny bit of the cure in his vein. You watched his wounds heal away like magic, his heartbeat getting stronger. His breathing returning back to normal, you thanked god silently in between sobs. Putting away the cure you hugged him close to you pulling the covers over your bodies resting your cheek on his naked chest. You had no strength to move, you wanted to be close to your husband. You felt his arms coil around you and you closed your eyes crying with happiness. Tears streaming down your cheeks you let out a huff. “Shhh..” Lo whispered to you holding his eyes closed feeling healed, his body feeling like new and all thanks to you. “I’m so sorry kid..” he breathed out kissing your forehead. “I’m fucking sorry for giving you so much pain.” He sighed running his big calloused hand over your back. “Don’t say that.. I want all of your worries, all of the pain, I want to take it all away I’m your wife” you cried looking up at him still resting your cheek on his chest. “I can’t give it to you kid.. only my love” you closed your eyes at his words with a broken whimper. His thumb wiping away your tears “Thank you..” he added kissing your forehead again. “Shhh..baby” you climbed on top of him burying your face in his neck.

A faint smile appeared on his face, he held you close to him. Even closer than before “I can’t lose you, I can’t leave you Lo..” you whispered your chest hurting immensely at the thought of losing him. “You won’t. I’m still here..” he added reassuring you. “C’here kid.. kiss me” he breathed before he captured your mouth in a loving kiss. You kissed him more urgently to be sure he’s healed and that he’s there with you this wasn’t a dream. “My love” you let out a soft moan wrapping your arms around his neck and he hummed at the closeness. Your legs nearly curled around his waist “you tiny monkey, you won’t let me go will you now?” You shook your head resting your cheek to his. “I love you..” he smiled snuggling you close. Your core was pressing to his growing bulge “S’not this old man’s fault- you’re clingin’ and tellin’ me you love me” he let out a chuckle “and rubbin yourself on me.. fuck” you giggled at his words loving that he was back. “I’ll take care of you my love” you blushed kissing his lips. Lo’s kiss was needier than yours this time. All that crying and sobbing was quickly exchanged for moans and whimpers, he used that extra energy to love on you.

-

[writingrock]

before he leaves [1]

pairings: prohero! katsuki bakugou, prohero! eijiro kirishima, prohero! denki kaminari x reader (female) summary: your prohero husband is being called away to a two-week long mission. this is how he says goodbye.

notes: fluff, mild suggestive content, established relationship (married), prohero husband, it's just really cute and sweet, I can't say much more.

word count: 3.7k

a/n: for @onlyisaa becuz apparantly putting bakugou in a timeout is unacceptable

Bakugou’s been called in for a mission overseas. It’s rare, but when it happens, you know it’s something serious. The night before, you couldn’t help but fuss over every little detail. You’d double-checked all of his luggage, then triple-checked it. And now you’re pacing around the room with your mind running through everything he might need. You’d gone over his gear so many times that even Bakugou, usually patient with your worry, had enough. 

“Damn it, woman,” he grumbled, grabbing you by the waist and physically dragging you to bed. You’d protested at first, but he ignored you, muttering under his breath, “You need to quit worrying so much, you’re driving me crazy.”

Despite his words, there was a softness in the way he pulled you into his arms, his grip firm but comforting. His frustration was just his way of masking how much he appreciated your care. He knew you worried because you loved him, but that didn’t stop him from teasing you about it. Even as you lay there, you could feel him quietly shaking his head in amusement, the corners of his lips curling into a smirk as he muttered, "My dear wife, always stressing." 

Still, as much as he tried to calm your nerves, there was a part of him that understood. Missions like this didn’t come often, and both of you knew the stakes. And despite the bravado, despite his confidence, Bakugou knew how hard it was for you every time he had to leave.

It’s five in the morning now, and you’re standing by the door, watching as he slips his phone and passport into his pocket. You stifle a yawn, your voice still groggy from sleep. “How long will you be gone again?”

“Two weeks,” he replies gruffly, his eyes meeting yours. You frown at his answer. Two weeks felt like forever without him. Did he really have to go? Your thoughts are full of protest, but you keep them to yourself.

“Are you sure you have everything?” you ask again, for what feels like the hundredth time. Bakugou lets out an exasperated groan, his head tilting back as he closes his eyes in frustration. 

“Woman, for the last time, yes, I’ve got everything,” he grumbles, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. His crimson eyes flick back to you, softening slightly despite the annoyance in his voice. “I’m not a damn rookie.”

You know he’s right, of course. Bakugou’s meticulous when it comes to preparation, probably more so than you are. Still, the thought of him leaving for two whole weeks on a dangerous mission makes your stomach twist in knots. You can’t help it— it’s in your nature to worry. And Bakugou knows that too.

He glances at you, and for a moment, his stern expression softens even more. He steps toward you, dropping his backpack onto the floor and resting his hands on your shoulders. “Hey,” he says, his voice lower now, gentler. “I’ve done this a million times. I’ll be fine.”

You nod, biting your lip, but he can see the lingering concern in your eyes. He sighs, pulling you into his chest. His arms wrap around you, strong and warm, and for a moment, you can pretend he’s not about to walk out the door.

“I’ve got everything, alright?” he murmurs against your hair. “Except maybe for one thing.”

You pull back slightly, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow. “What’s that?”

He smirks, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “You. But I’ll be back before you know it.”

Does he really have to go?

“Yes, I have to go,” he grumbles, reading your thoughts as if they were spoken aloud. You groan softly and stay wrapped in his embrace. Two weeks without him. His strong, muscular arms, the ones you’ll miss most, tighten around you as you press your face against his broad chest, nuzzling into him with a quiet sigh. You take a deep inhale, filling your lungs with his familiar scent— the mix of his skin and that faint, rugged cologne you love so much. It’s comforting, grounding, and you cling to it, knowing it’ll be a while before you get to experience this again.

“I’ll miss you.” You softly whisper in his chest to which he chuckles. His arms seem to squeeze you a little tighter. 

“Yeah, I’ll miss you too,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, savouring the comfort of your presence. He’d definitely miss his pretty wife.

You look up, meeting his gaze. His crimson eyes, still soft with sleep, linger on you with that private smile he shows only to you. His sharp features seem gentler in the dim morning light, and for a moment, you both just exist in each other’s company.

Wordlessly, the both of you share a deep kiss. An intimate mix of love and longing. His hand cradles your cheek as your arms loop loosely around his neck. Reluctantly, the both of you pull away. You sigh softly from the loss of contact. He keeps you close as he gazes into your eyes, his forehead resting against yours. The beautiful eyes of his lover. 

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against yours in one last, tender kiss before stepping back. You pout a little as his arms fall away, but you know he has to leave.

“I love you,” you say, voice tinged with a reluctant acceptance.

“I love you too,” he replies.

You watch as he picks up his luggage and heads to the car. Standing in the doorway, you call out after him, your voice echoing through the quiet morning.

“Text me updates!”

“I will!”

“And when you’re on the plane—”

“I know!”

“And call me when you get to the hotel!”

“Dammit, woman, I know!” he yells back, a mix of exasperation and fondness in his tone.

Exactly an hour and thirty-seven minutes later, your phone buzzes with a message from him. He’s reached the airport. Twenty minutes later, another text arrives to tell you that he’s checked in. 

Two hours pass, and your phone lights up again with a photo of him and his colleagues on the jet. He looks as sharp as ever, though there’s the usual trace of annoyance in his expression. And next to him were sheepish looking Red Riot and ChargeBolt. His message follows right after: They were late. Typical.

You smile at his grumbling, imagining him sitting there, arms crossed, clearly unimpressed. Even from thousands of miles away, it’s like he’s right there with you, sharing his usual complaints.

You watch Kirishima stretch in the morning light. His muscles ripples beneath his tanned skin as he works out the tension from his body. He’s seated at the edge of the bed, wearing nothing but his boxers. The broad back you love so much, facing you. Kirishima’s back is adorned with battle scars, each with their own battle-hardened tale. The scars stretch over his powerful frame and you feel rather tempted to reach out to touch them.

As he stretches his arms out to the sides, twisting slightly to loosen up, your eyes skirt over the fresh scratches running along his skin. Scratches you left from the night before. The memory of it stirs something warm inside you, and you can’t help but let a soft giggle escape your lips.

Upon hearing your fit of giggles, he pauses mid-stretch. Glancing over his shoulder with a knowing smirk on his lips. "What’s so funny?" he teases, his voice still a little raspy from sleep, but there's an unmistakable playfulness in his tone. 

“Just admiring my work.” you comment, referring to the latest addition of scratches on his back. He chuckles softly, replaying the events of last night in his head. It was a rather vigorous night. He needed that time with you, though. With a two-week mission ahead, he already knows how much he’s going to miss you. 

He practically jumps back into bed, sweeping you into his strong, muscular arms as if he can't bear to be away from you for another second. His lips find yours in a tender kiss before he nuzzles into the curve of your neck, planting soft, fluttery kisses along your skin. His lips trace over the bite marks he left behind last night, a reminder of the intimacy. 

For a moment, there's only the sound of your steady breathing and the quiet intimacy of the morning. Then, you break the silence, your voice still soft and hazy from sleep. “Do you have to go?” Your hand gently combs through his messy red hair, and he responds with a low hum of affirmation, his teeth grazing your neck playfully, causing a shiver to run through you. 

“I don’t want to,” he murmurs, his voice low and a little rough, “but I have to.” 

He rises slightly, hovering over you, his gaze tender as he takes in your sleepy features. His hand, warm and calloused, cups your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over your skin as if memorizing every detail. He’s going to miss you—more than he can express.

You're the reason he’s not in the shower yet. The reason he’s still in bed, holding you close instead of gearing up or standing by the door. He’s prolonging every second he has with you, delaying the inevitable because leaving you feels harder than the mission itself. He knows he's late, that he should already be in the shower, getting ready for the mission. His gear should be laid out, his mind focused on the tasks ahead. But here he is, unable to leave your side.

He knows his hero partner will yell at him.

But how could he resist his beautiful wife?

You know he’s running late too, but you don’t care. Shifting up from the bed, you lazily loop your arms around him, pressing your cheek against his warm, broad back. A soft sigh escapes your lips as you settle into him.

“I’ll miss you,” you murmur, breathing in his familiar scent, already knowing you’ll be raiding his closet the moment he’s gone, wrapping yourself in whatever he leaves behind.

“I’ll miss you more,” Kirishima replies, his voice full of warmth. You can’t see the smile on his face, but you feel it in the way his muscles relax under your touch, the way his words come out soft and sincere.

What time is it? You glance at the digital clock on the bedside table. Six in the morning? He's definitely getting yelled at. A quiet chuckle escapes you as you loosen your grip around him.

“It’s six,” you say, a playful warning in your tone.

“I know,” he groans, clearly aware of the trouble he's in.

“He’s going to kill you.”

Kirishima just laughs softly. “I’ll survive—gotta come back to you.” His words make you laugh, and as you release him, he turns to face you with that toothy grin you’ve always loved.

Just as Kirishima leans in to kiss you, his phone rings, cutting the moment short. A loud groan escapes his lips as he checks the caller ID. He glances at you, a dry chuckle slipping out before he answers.

He doesn’t even need to speak— Bakugou’s voice is already blaring through the speaker, barking orders. You can hear it loud and clear, his usual demanding tone carrying through the room. “Get your ass up, Eijiro!” 

Kirishima doesn’t argue, knowing full well Bakugou had already anticipated this. With a quick tap, he ends the call, tossing the phone back onto the nightstand with a sigh. He knew he brought this on himself, but it’s far too early for all that yelling.

“You heard that, right?” Kirishima asks, glancing over his shoulder at you. 

You nod with a soft chuckle, still amused. “Yeah, pretty much. You should clean up,” you hum, playfully nudging him.

He raises an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Wanna join me?” 

“Eijiro.”

“Fine, fine,” he grumbles, finally getting out of bed and heading for the bathroom. His broad figure disappears behind the door, and you roll your eyes fondly, watching him go. As much as he’s procrastinating, you know he’ll eventually get it together—because, at the end of the day, he’s always reliable. Even if he’s late.

Before you know it, Kirishima is already by the door, fully dressed with his suitcase in hand. The image of him shirtless and relaxed on the bed feels like a distant memory as you stand in front of him, sharing one last deep kiss before he leaves. It’s slow and lingering, filled with the kind of warmth that you’ll hold onto while he’s gone. When you finally part, it’s with a soft peck on the lips, and a smile as you watch him step outside.

You wave as he loads his suitcase into the car, and he shoots you that familiar, reassuring grin before the door closes behind him. The car pulls away, and the house feels quieter already.

Two hours pass, and your phone buzzes with a new message. You open it to find an image of a rather grumpy-looking Dynamight, arms crossed and glaring from his seat on the plane. Next to him, Chargebolt is flashing a sheepish grin, holding up a peace sign. You can almost hear Bakugou grumbling under his breath about something ridiculous, probably annoyed with everything around him. 

Kirishima’s caption reads: “Already regretting this trip. Look at these idiots.” 

You laugh, texting him back quickly, already missing him but feeling a little lighter knowing he's surrounded by his friends and trusted co-workers. He’ll be in your arms again soon.

“Five more minutes.” 

Denki mumbles, his voice muffled as he snuggles deeper into your embrace. He’s still in bed, arms wrapped tightly around you, clinging like he’s never going to let go. You let out a soft hum as your fingers comb through his messy blond hair, the strands wild from sleep and so uniquely him. His head rests against your chest, and you can’t help but smile to yourself as you look down at him—the pro-hero you love so much, completely content in your arms.

But this is also the very late pro-hero.

“You’re going to be late, Denks,” you murmur, your voice gentle but with a hint of amusement.

He grunts in reply, barely acknowledging your words as he shrugs and buries his face even further into your chest, clearly not bothered by the reality of the situation. “Don’t care,” he mutters, his voice rumbling against your skin. He’s warm, cosy, and in no rush to leave. Being tangled up with you is the only thing that matters in the world right now.

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “You say that now, but wait until Bakugou gets on your case for being late again.”

“I’m not scared of him,” Denki just huffs, his arms tightening around you as if to say let him try. You know he’s dreading the inevitable lecture, but right now, he’d rather enjoy every last second with you. And honestly, you’re not complaining.

The two of you lay there peacefully, soaking in the morning light peeking through the windows. You’re already thinking about how much you’ll miss him during his two-week mission. It’s not often he’s called away for that long, but when he is, you understand. That’s the life of a pro-hero. And while the thought of being apart tugs at your heart, you couldn’t be more proud of him for what he does.

“I’ll miss you,” Denki murmurs into your skin, his breath warm against your chest as he looks up at you. His toned arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. His electrifying touch trails in soothing circles across your skin, making you feel that familiar buzz only he can give. He sighs softly, like he’s already dreading the distance. At that moment, you realise just how much you’re going to miss the way he holds you. The warmth of his affection that never fails to make you feel safe.

You smile down at him, your fingers still running through his messy blond hair. “What are you going to miss the most about me?” you ask playfully, your tone light, though a part of you genuinely wonders what his answer will be.

He pauses, his gaze drifting downward to your chest, a playful grin spreading across his face. You immediately catch on, rolling your eyes and swatting him lightly on the head. “Denki!” you scold, but you can’t help laughing as the both of you break into soft chuckles.

He rubs the back of his head, still grinning like a mischievous kid caught in the act. “What? Can you blame me?” he teases, but when he sees the look on your face, he lets out a small sigh, shaking his head as if to reset himself.

“Okay, okay,” he says, his tone shifting to something more serious. “Real answer now.”

Denki’s lips curl into a smile, but his eyes stay soft, thoughtful. “Everything,” he says, his voice low and sincere. “The way you smile at me when I walk through the door, the way you run your fingers through my hair like this…” He trails off, propping himself up on one elbow.

Looking deep into your eyes, his usual playful energy is tempered by the sincerity that only comes out in moments like these. “I’m gonna miss the way you make everything feel... normal. Like, when I’m out there, saving the day and dealing with all the hero stuff, it’s easy to forget who I really am sometimes. But with you,” he pauses, his hand gently cupping your cheek as his thumb brushes over your skin, “you remind me that I’m more than just a pro-hero. You remind me that I’m enough, just as I am. That I’m just Denki Kaminari.”

His words make your heart swell, and for a moment, you forget about the two weeks ahead. All that matters is here and now, with him in your arms, holding onto you like you’re the most important thing in his world.

Just then, his phone rings, interrupting the peaceful moment. As Denki picks it up, you glance at the screen and catch the time—half past six in the morning. Oh, he’s much later than you’d initially thought. It’s not Bakugou calling, but Kirishima instead. You can hear his deep, concerned voice on the other end, “Dude, get up. He’s already pissed.”

Before the words even fully register, Denki’s already scrambling, bolting upright and pulling on his boxers in a flurry of movement. The sudden shift from lazy cuddles to frantic dressing makes you burst out laughing. He’s rushing so fast that he practically trips over his own feet as he throws open the closet doors, rifling through his clothes in search of something to wear.

“How did you know I wasn’t already out the door?” Denki fires back at Kirishima, balancing the phone between his ear and shoulder while simultaneously struggling to put his clothes on. His words are defensive, but the slight panic in his voice gives him away. He’s juggling a pair of pants in one hand, sliding them on while trying to pull a shirt over his head with the other, looking every bit the chaotic mess you love.

You can’t help but chuckle at the scene— Denki hopping around, trying to get his pants on without losing grip on the phone or his dignity. "Because if you were, you wouldn’t be half-dressed and panicking right now," you tease, watching as he stumbles into his shoes, still fumbling with his shirt.

Denki flashes you a sheepish grin, clearly caught, but he doesn’t miss a beat as he finally manages to get his pants on properly. “I was about to be out the door,” he mutters into the phone, knowing full well that no one’s buying it.

“Tell him I’m—” Denki starts as he finds his packed luggage. Thank god he packed the night before. 

“Already on your way?” Kirishima cuts in with a laugh. “Yeah, you can tell him that yourself. You know how he gets when we’re late. He’s already chewed me out. Hurry up man or you’re next.”

It’s hard to hold in your laughter at the situation. Denki shoots you a panicked glare as he starts moving out of the bedroom. “I’ll be out in two seconds!” he says into the phone, though both you and Kirishima know that’s a lie. 

You shake your head, still laughing softly, as you follow him out of the bedroom. Amused by the whirlwind that is your husband in a rush. He’s darting around the living room, frantically patting down his pockets to make sure he’s got everything. The sight is pure Denki— chaotic, yet somehow endearing.

As he’s about to bolt out the door, you catch sight of his passport sitting on the kitchen counter. With a smile, you grab it and walk over, holding it out to him just as he turns in circles, looking confused. “Looking for this?” you tease, waving the passport in front of his face.

His eyes light up with relief. “You’re a lifesaver,” he says, leaning in for a quick kiss.

Before he can rush off again, you grab his arm and pull him in for one last peck on the cheek. “Be safe, okay? And text me when you land.”

He flashes you that playful, electric grin, eyes twinkling. “Promise. Love you.” Then, with a wink, he’s out the door, shoes half-tied, practically running to avoid Bakugou’s wrath.

You lean against the doorframe, still smiling as you watch him disappear down the street. Even in his frantic state, there’s something about him that makes you fall in love with him all over again, every time.

Two hours later, your phone buzzes with a message from your husband. You unlock it to find several crying emojis, and you can already feel the laughter bubbling up before you even open the image. When you do, you’re greeted with a snapshot of chaos: a very pissed off Dynamight, glaring daggers at Denki, looking ready to lunge at him. Red Riot is in the background, struggling to hold Bakugou back, his arms wrapped around Dynamight in a full bear hug, clearly doing his best to keep things under control.

Denki’s sheepish grin isn’t doing him any favours either. His expression is simply the statement of "I'm in trouble". You stifle a laugh as you text him back. 

a/n: there will be a part two of this with deku, shoto and sero! I only had energy to write these three idiots xP

border credits: @/enchanthings & @/adornedwithlight

[dude-ew-gross]

Happy Birthday, Victor

2k words and some change

@void-my-warranty @simplynerdilicious-blog

Thanks for the brainrot. Had a lot of fun writing this. I'm going out for a gyro now.

It was nice to do regular girlfriend things with Victor. It was easy. All you had to do was be there, and what a relief it was not to walk on eggshells for once. The history of your relationships was a list of long, sordid affairs. A few flings here and there that never went beyond the bedroom paired with one miserable marriage and a divorce under your belt, you never thought that you would be where you were now, and where you are now is using your boyfriend as a pillow while he uses you as a blanket. An equal trade, laissez-faire and all that jargon.

You had to admit it was pretty damn nice to have someone around who matches your love of physical affection. The fact that he just so happened to be a walking furnace was merely a coincidental bonus, and if you were being completely honest, cuddling into him was probably your number one source of therapy. Victor never once rejected your advances, much less affection, gladly opening up his enormous arms and adjusting himself to make room for you in his lap to your incoming attack.

There you are, late in the morning on a random sunny Tuesday, so late in fact that most people would be taking their lunch break right now, you are now gleefully loving Victor up on the living room couch, nuzzling into his neck the way he does to you, snuggling into your boyfriend with all your might. You feel him plant a kiss on the top of your head as he hugs you to him just tight enough.

Laying your head on his shirtless chest, you listen to his heart pump his blood through his body with every beat and relax into him with each breath he takes with those strong lungs. You can't help but feel quite pleased when it doesn't take long for him to begin, for lack of a better word, purring. That familiar rumbling starts up and the solid torso underneath you begins to vibrate as he runs a large hand up and down the length of your back, the greatest indicator of “Hell Yeah” there ever was.

“There's that motor,” you giggle, burying your face into a furry pec as if trying to sink into the sensation. His chest hair scratches your face wonderfully. You inhale his scent, taking a deep breath of him and letting it out long and slow. For a moment you two lay there, basking in the warm compassionate touch of a lover. You know you could fall asleep on him right now but something snaps you awake just enough to ask a question that's been drifting in and out of the forefront of your cortex.

“Victor,” you begin. “How old are you?”

“Old.” He answers matter-of-factly. You take it that he didn't take offense to the question on account he didn't immediately stop purring, a good sign.

You continue. “How old?”

He's silent for a moment as he considers what to say. You knew he'd been around the sun a few times more than the average person and had been trying to guess his age for a while but didn't know how to bring it up until now.

“I was a grown man when I saw a light bulb for the first time,” he says.

The absurdity of that statement makes you lift your head up to quirk an eyebrow at him. He's stretched out beneath you, one arm wrapped around you, the other he's using to rest his head. The muscles of the arm that cradles his neck are handsomely flexed under his skin but you are not paying attention to that. He looks completely relaxed at the moment, unbothered. His eyes remain closed and his face doesn't change when the only response you can provide is a blunt “What?” because while you know he's old, there is absolutely no way he's that... old.

Victor makes an affirmative noise, refusing to elaborate any further. Well, if the motor underneath you is still going, that's a good indicator as any that it'd be ok to ask a few more questions. You think for a little bit, attempting to do the math but since the official year of whenever the lightbulb became patented then commercially available escapes you at the moment so instead you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

“So you're older than indoor plumbing?”

This makes him chuckle. “Yeah.”

“Cars?”

He nods. “Yep.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Did you ever have to tell time by looking at a sundial?”

His immediate response was to laugh. “Once or twice,” he grins, finding your questions amusing. His fangs are on full display. “Used to get around by horse, if you could afford one. I remember riding in the back of a sled pulled by a single mule led by my father. My mother rode next to him with a shotgun,” he begins to fiddle with a strand of your hair, finding a small knot to loosely work his fingers through. “My brother was next to me. Suddenly, he's pointing up at something in the trees.”

The tangle is smoothed out and he resumes brushing his fingers through your hair with just a little bit of claw, careful not to give you an accidental trim.

“I look up, and there's this barn owl staring down at us. Takes off and flies above us without a sound.”

You blink at him. That was a core memory of his, a little piece of something long ago. Before he figured out he was a mutant, before he and his brother were locked away in that cellar. The paradox in the shape of a man that is Victor Creed who used candlelight and horses as a main resource during most of his formative years, yet he looks like some guy around your age, in the prime of life forever stuck at his physical peak until time itself remembers that he has to age, but that probably won't happen for quite some time. He's older than social security, older than the wars that shaped this continent (probably participated in a few from what you could gather) and was probably older than dirt, and you make an attempt to bite that comment back because he may not find that funny as you, but you say it anyway.

“Heh,” he snorts. “Good way of putting it.”

He probably doesn't even have an official birth certificate if he's as old as you think he is, and he's telling you all this as if his entire backstory is nothing more than just idle chit-chat. You think of how many centuries turned over for him to get here. He sees your expression.

“C'mon, let me hear it,” he goads, a soft smile gracing his face.

You adjust yourself a little to lace your fingers together and tuck your hands under your chin and look him straight in the eye and with all seriousness, you ask “When was the last time you celebrated your birthday?”

This makes him pause. The prolonged silence carries on a bit too long for your liking as his brow furrows, as if he never really considered his birthday before, much less celebrated it. His eyes drift away from yours and his eyebrows knit together even tighter as he takes a moment to think about the last time someone thought about his birthday, and that makes your heart ache.

Finally, he opens his mouth. “A while.” He lifts the hand that was in your hair and brings it to his face to scratch his scruffy chin. “Pretty sure the year started with “eighteen.””

You blink. “You're shittin’ me.”

The look he gives you has no indication that he's being facetious in the slightest. He stops scratching his chin and returns to using you as an armrest, draping the long limb around your upper back. His hand comes to rest on your upper arm, running his thumb back and forth on the flesh of your delt.

“Oh my god,” you begin, laying your head back down on his chest. You listen to his heart for three beats. “You really are older than dirt.”

He laughs at this, and you lift up and down with each laugh. It's nice to hear, it's deep and warm, and you can't help but laugh with him.

It takes a while to calm down. “Do you have any idea when it is?” you ask when you finally regain control of your breathing. He hums and you feel his arm constrict you ever so slightly as he squeezes you to him. His other arm comes out from under his head to completely cage you in, not that you mind. You feel him press his lips to your hairline as he takes a deep breath in, chest expanding with the volume of air he could breathe in, then slowly exhales.

“Sometime in the fall,” he finally says. “I don't remember the date.”

You “hmm” at this. “We're totally celebrating your birthday as soon as I see a leaf turn yellow.”

He lets out a puff of air through his nostrils and you feel his chest shudder with a silent laugh and he relaxes underneath you. Time passes and you end up spending the rest of the morning on the sofa with your legs tangled together. You're pretty sure you fall asleep on him once or twice or more, but he doesn't mind. You're pretty sure he falls asleep, too, and you're both content to let the world pass by as you nap together on a sunny weekday afternoon.

….

Months pass, and you decided you weren't kidding when you said you were celebrating his birthday. Seasons change, summer gives way to Autumn, the days are getting shorter and cooler, trees turned from the supple verdant green to the brilliant hues of Fall. Your backyard is a blended masterpiece of reds, oranges, yellows, and on a particularly chilly October day Victor decides to take your dog on a long walk on the trails in the woods behind your home.

You take advantage of his absence, preheating the oven and bust out the ingredients needed for a cake recipe you found in one of your mother's old cookbooks that you think Victor would like. You remember to separate the wet ingredients from the dry until you're ready to combine the two parts in one large bowl. You pour the batter into two equal size round pans, eyeballing the level to make sure they are even, then place them in the hot oven to bake.

You set a timer on your phone and place a kettle to boil on the stove for tea. Soon enough, the kettle is whistling and you pour the boiling water into your favorite mug with your favorite tea. You pocket your device and decide to pass the remaining time by spending it outside, parked in the big rocking chair with a steaming mug of tea keeping your hands warm and a small blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

It's a perfect Autumn day. The sky is overcast, the wind brings a chilly breeze, and the wonderful colors of the trees as the leaves lose their chlorophyll and fall to the ground has you beaming. You sip your tea and think about the present you didn't get your boyfriend. That's been bugging you for a while; what do you get a man who can buy everything in the world and still have spare change? Oh well, you hope the cake and the card you made are enough.

You're still outside and Victor has yet to return when the timer goes off in your pocket. You head back inside, locate your oven mitts, and carefully slide the rack out of the oven and transfer the pans onto a cooling rack. You poke the cake with a toothpick to check that it has baked all the way through and can't help but pump your fist in victory when it comes out clean. You keep the oven on to toast the coconut flakes you bought specifically for this and set to work making the frosting. The kitchen is smelling nice and toasty as you run a knife along the sides of the cakes, separating the layers from their pans. Both layers come out clean when you flip them over (another victory). You apply a liberal coat of frosting to the cooled layers and stack them, then add the toasted coconut to the sides and top.

You take a step back to appreciate your work, pride swelling your chest. You grab the pack of candles you bought specifically for the occasion and stick one right in the center of the cake and retrieve the card you made, placing the envelope right next to the cake. Just in the nick of time, too, because right on cue, the back door opens and Victor returns with your dog. Once inside, he immediately turns his head in your direction to see you standing behind the kitchen island with a freshly baked cake and an envelope, looking expectantly at him. Both eyebrows are raised in pleasant surprise.

You greet him with a smile. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he echoes, stooping to unleash the dog. “What's this?”

You shrug. “I've decided it's your birthday. Happy Birthday!”

The leash comes off with a click and your dog rushes to greet you, nails clacking on the kitchen floor, tail wagging as he gives your hand excited kisses. You kneel to give him a few scratches and ask how the walk was, and your dog takes this opportunity to lick your face.

Victor huffs. “Little guy decided to take a swim, that's why we were gone so long.” He gives your dog an accusatory look, to which is blissfully ignored as the accused attacks your face with wet kisses. Your dog's fur is completely dry. You stand to get away from the barrage and your dog trots away to go lay on his bed.

You hand the homemade card to Victor. He considers it for a moment before opening it to read the little message you scrawled out for him in what you tried not to look like your regular chicken-scratch. While he's distracted you get two little plates out from the cabinet and the necessary silverware out from the drawer. He doesn't look up until he hears the flick of the lighter you're using to light the single candle on the cake. You return the lighter to your pocket.

You take a deep breath in. “Ha-”

“Don't.” Victor stops you from subjecting him to the mortifying experience of being serenaded with your acapella rendition of “Happy Birthday”. You're thankful for that.

You giggle and he smiles, and he's looking at you with those peculiar eyes of his with so much warmth and love you feel like you could fly.

“Alright,” you say with a grin. “Blow out the candle and make a wish, birthday boy.”

With a roll of his eyes he does as he's told. His lips form an “o” as he lets out a puff of air, immediately snuffing the candle out. A small plume of smoke rolls up to the ceiling and you can't help but clap in delight.

“Yay! Don't tell me what you wished for, it won't come true if you do.” You warn. You cut the cake and serve him a large slice, then you cut yourself a slice and you both decide to take this into the living room. The first bite he takes has him making an appreciative noise in the back of his throat. That's the only criticism you receive because he's silent as he eats the rest of his slice. The cake is supple and moist and the frosting melts on your tongue as the rich flavors of vanilla and coconut play together on your palette. You're barely halfway through your portion when he gets up and goes back to the kitchen, returning with another slice of cake.

“This is really good,” he tells you, gesturing with his fork. He takes another bite and voices his delight, making you smile as you take another bite. Excellent. He could eat the entire cake and you would not feel bad about it. It's his cake, he deserves to eat it, too.

When you're both finished he grabs your plate and you're about to protest that people don't wash dishes on their birthday when he sets them aside and stacks them on the coffee table. He turns to you and suddenly you find yourself wrapped up in a strong hug and a sweet tasting kiss is planted on your lips as he pulls you onto his lap. “Thank you,” he whispers, kissing you again.

It's not quite the birthday bash you think he deserves, but you did what you could, and he's enjoying himself and that's all that matters. You cup his face with both hands and kiss him back.

“Happy birthday, baby,” you tell him in between kisses.

[iridescent-solstice]

"Asra . . ?" Her whisper catches his attention right away.

Exhaling with a low whistle, Asra gently lets the book that he had been preoccupied with fall to her back with a dull thud. His hazy lavender eyes, which glitter in the warm glow of the sunset, are now fixated on Estrella's sweet face that rests peacefully ontop of his chest. With his arms laid wrapped snuggly around her waist, he gives her an encouraging smile. Urging her to continue. She's hesitant. But his smile is enough to shoo away all her doubts.

Sighing, she leans forward and pulls herself closer to him. Not stopping until her head lays right under his chin. His hand immediately tangling itself in her messy hair. Gently scratching her scalp while hers falls to his bicep. If his self-control wasn't so strong, he'd almost sigh wishfully at the feeling of her freshly painted nails that would sometimes absentmindedly curl ever so slightly against his arm. A pleasant scratching sensation that almost makes his imagination go wild. Almost.

"You know . . . Actually, I might be overthinking this but . . . Have you noticed how everyone gawks at us whenever we go out together?" The hand petting her head freezes up. Rigid as if turned to stone. His smile falters immediately. Do they know what happened? His mind begins to jump at all sorts of conclusions. He's never stayed anywhere long enough to face a situation like this . . . He's conflicted. Subconsciously he pulls her closer than before if that's even possible. A million thoughts began to run through his head. At a speed he didn't even know was possible. Lips part to explain, to try and make an excuse, but he even craft a single coherent thought. Luckily, she beats him to it.

"Maybeee it's a sign that you're not the fashionista you think you are? Might wanna get a new wardrobe soon mister magician man." Her lips twist up as she looks up at him. Her teasing tone cut through all of his inner ramblings like a steel cold knife. He’s back here again. With her and her horrible jests that instantly put him at ease.

Her cheeky impish smile grows as she giggles at him rolling his eyes at her. "Me?" He raises his brow at her while she chuckles. "Yes you," she replies while poking his nose. He scrunches it up playfully with a slight grin before darting forward to nip at her index finger making her yelp and pull away her hand away. He grins as she narrows her eyes at his. Bright vermillion ones stare into his equally stubborn orchid coloured one. "So says the one that keeps stealing all my shirts," he teases, and she huffs. "So says the one who keeps swaddling me in his scarves and throwing his gigantic coat at me." He laughs again before pulling her closer. burying his head in the crook of her neck. "It's not gigantic, you're just tiny"

"Am not . . ." "Are too~" ". . . " " . . . infact i've never seen anyone as tiny as yo-" "Shut up Asra."

[ ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀꜱ ʙʏ: @chachachannah]

Proofread but some errors probably made their way in somehow oops . . .

[a-killer-obsession]

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

A search for a rumored Vegapunk weapon leads the Kid Pirates to an unexpected new crewmate, with a bloodlust that rivals their own and an incredible power.

CW: Please check AO3 for all current warnings, but general warning for smut, slow burn, serious gore, and really dark themes. AFAB reader, she/her pronouns.

Masterlist || AO3 || Chapter 1

Chapter 50 - Enemy

With Kid successfully rescued, it's time to go find Killer.

Word Count: ~4k

“So, what's the plan then?” Kid asked, chomping on an apple from your very quickly dwindling food stash, “they're gonna wake up and discover I'm gone soon.”

“We need to find Killer,” you replied, “I'm hoping he knows where the others are. Either because that's where he was, or because he's… working with the Shogun.” Kid sighed at your forlorn expression as you curled your knees up to your chin. “Last time I saw him was in the Flower Capital.”

“How far is that from here?”

“About a day’s walk,” you replied, laying out your map for him to see and pointing to the relevant areas, “we're somewhere around here, Heart Pirate base is here, capital is right here in the centre. I was thinking though, maybe we go to Law first, so we can get your seastone off.”

“Absolutely fucking not,” Kid growled, “I don't need that smug cunt's help. Kil can pick the lock when we see him.”

“Sure, if he wasn't a whole different person right now,” you sighed, “he's more likely to fight you. We're gonna have to subdue him, maybe bring him back here. Can you carry him with one arm?”

“Aye,” Kid responded confidently, “ye of little faith, I can take him without my devil fruit.”

“It's not taking him down I'm worried about,” you explained, “his fighting is off right now. He's manic and sloppy, I can take him down no problem with my fruit. The problem is getting him all the way back here, keeping him restrained and trying to get him to talk. I don't know what they did to him but they convinced him that we're the enemy.”

Kid examined your face carefully, seeing how lost and defeated you looked. Your expression reminded him of the way you looked after you lost your baby, something was hurting you deeply, that much at least was clear to him, even if he himself was emotionally stunted most of the time. “There's something else bothering you, isn't there?” He pried. You blinked away tears and sniffed, only sparing him a short look before hiding your face between your knees. “Talk to me doll, what is it?”

“I don't even know if everyone else is alive,” you sniffed, “what if Heat is dead? I should have told him I loved him earlier, I shouldn't have made him wait. He could be rotting somewhere for all I know.”

“He knew long before you said it lass,” Kid soothed, pulling you into his lap and resting his chin on top of your hair, “he's alive, they all are, we're gonna find them Yin. Just stay strong. You've done so well on your own, you don't have to suffer on your own anymore, I've got you. We're gonna find everyone.”

“What if we don't?” You cried, “what if we're too late? What if I took too long? What if we can't bring Killer back to his senses and everyone else is dead already?”

“Shhh, shh,” Kid soothed, holding your head against his chest, “I'll have no talk of that, you did everything you could, we're gonna save them. Together. You're not alone anymore, I'm right here Yin, don't cry. You're a Kid Pirate, you've gotta be brave.”

Kid took your face gently in his hand, tilting your chin up with a crooked finger, before running his thumb softly over your cheek to catch a tear as it ran over your scattered purple freckles. “You're not alone,” he said uncharacteristically softly, “let me hear you say it.”

“I'm- I'm not alone,” you sniffed, watching his amber eyes flick between your eyes and your lips, overly aware of how close he was and warm chest against yours. “I'm not alone,” you repeated, softer, almost a whisper as you leaned towards him. He made a quiet grunt as you pressed your lips against his, but he quickly took possession of the kiss, pressing back with a harsh need and forcing his tongue in your mouth. The kiss turned frantic, moans swallowed as Kid fisted his hand into your hair and you rolled your hips to grind against his growing erection.

“Not alone,” you whined, “Kid, I need you.”

“I know baby, I know,” he groaned back, shifting you to lay on your side next to him so he could hitch your leg over his hip, holding your ass firmly so he could grind his clothed length against you. “Gonna help you, gonna take good care of you till we get your boys back, I promise. They'd want me to take care of you.”

Desperate to feel full and distract yourself from the anguish still potentially waiting for you, you pushed Kid onto his back and straddled him. You made quick work of his belts while he groped at your tits, pushing up your shirt and bra to reveal the soft flesh underneath. He squeezed them purposefully to make you release your milk, groaning as a thin line shot out somewhat violently and hit him in the face, which made you giggle a little at his surprised expression. His eyes rolled back as you freed his cock and took it in your hand, pumping him and admiring the precum beading at the tip. You shuffled to squat over him, too impatient and needy to properly prepare your cunt, pulling aside your panties and whining as you sunk down on his length, letting the painful stretch and the pleasure that followed distract your mind from your stresses. Things didn't seem so bad with Kid's fat cock buried in your cunt.

“There you go sweetheart,” Kid groaned as you rode him, “let yourself go, all will be well. Fuck, you're so tight. Good girl, such a good girl.”

Kid's praises made you whine and ride him faster, and you wondered if Killer had shared your pension for praise with him. “S-say it again,” you whined.

“You're such a good girl,” Kid cooed, guiding your hips with his one good arm, the stump of the other moving like it longed to reach out and touch you as well, “such a very good girl, Yin. Doing such a good job taking my cock. Looking after your captain like a good sweet thing. You gonna be a good girl and cum on my cock?”

“Yes!” You moaned, coil pulling tight far too quickly thanks to his praise, “c-cumming!”

Kid groaned at your walls squeezing around him, his balls tightening as he realised it was the first time you'd cum on his cock, and it drove him wild. You were trying to come down from your orgasm but he began to piston up into you, making you scream as your orgasm seemed to continue on forever. “Good girl, good girl, good girl,” he chanted before making an animalistic roar and unloading inside you. The moment he stilled you collapsed against him, panting into the scarred crook of his neck, his hand still on your hip, his grip a little lighter now, keeping you sat where you were to warm his cock.

“Do you think they'll hate me?” You whispered. Post nut clarity was a real bitch.

“Who?”

“Killer and Heat,” you clarified, “do you think they'll hate me… for sleeping with you.”

“Not a chance,” Kid soothed, pressing a hard kiss into your hair, “they know you sweetheart. They know your heart is theirs. This is just a comfort. They won't hate you for just trying to feel a little comfort after all you've been through.”

“Okay..” you resigned, not entirely convinced but trying hard to trust your captain.

“Don't sweat it Yin,” Kid insisted, “you're okay, everything is gonna be okay. I'll tell them myself if you're worried about it. I promise they won't care.”

“We should get going soon,” you sighed, letting his softened cock slip from inside you and rolling off him, “it's a day's walk to the capital, we should get moving.”

“Yin,” Kid crowded behind you as you gathered your things into your duffle, stilling your frantic movements with a firm hold on your arm, “we're going to find them. When have I ever let you down?”

You let him pull you into a tight hug, his arm rubbing your back soothingly while your arms struggled to wrap around his thick waist. “I know captain,” you sniffed, “I'm just so worried.”

“Let's get going then, aye?” Kid suggested, giving you a reassuring pat on the back before separating himself, “let's go put those worries to rest.”

You slipped your visor on with a nod and threw your duffle over your shoulder, then you led your captain out of the crumbling shack, onwards to find your friends and lovers.

Your biggest concern right now was how to stay unseen and avoid fights on your way to the Flower Capital. Until now you'd been travelling under the cover of night, when you were at a visibility advantage and it was easier to hide. But with the guards at Udon no doubt having discovered Kid's escape by now, the two of you couldn't afford to stay still for any longer than necessary. You'd both allowed a few hours for a nap, but the sun was now risen, and soon there would likely be Beast Pirates out searching for the missing captain. You couldn't wait till nightfall, you had to keep moving, but that left you both exposed.

Some of the Beast Pirate Gifters were able to fly, and would spot you from a distance, especially now that they were no doubt actively searching. That left travelling under tree cover as the best option, though it would greatly slow the journey, and not all of the route had trees to hide under. You could use your devil fruit to cloak, but it would need to be used sparingly to conserve your energy in case it came to a fight, and you had no way to hide Kid's seastone cuff. If the two of you got caught out with nowhere to hide, the floating cuff would stick out like a sore tooth.

The best option, after checking with the map Kin’emon had given you, was to take a longer route via the neighbouring region of Hakumai, instead of going directly to the Flower Capital. It would take longer, but you would still hopefully make it before night. After that the plan was to search the capital after dark, being that it was the most likely time for Killer, or rather, Kamazo, to appear. The plan was less clear after that, but you hoped you would be able to disable him again so that Kid could carry him somewhere he could be bound, until you both figured out how to fix him. Or at the very least get information out of him so you could find where they were keeping the rest of the crew. You weren't keen on giving Killer another concussion, a man could only take so many knocks to the head before it resulted in permanent damage, or even a death-inducing brain bleed, but if it came to it you didn't have much choice.

The two of you made your way under the treeline, Kid refusing to let go of your hand. He felt responsible for you, as more than just a captain. He felt a responsibility to look after you on behalf of his best friend, and his long time friend Heat. Kid knew how sad and stressed you were, so he was trying to do what he thought they would do in this situation. He was no good with dealing with feelings but he was trying his best, and not to be too humble, but he thought he was doing a pretty good job. You appreciated his effort though. After more than a month on your own, a simple thing like having a warm hand in yours gave you a great deal of comfort. Just knowing you weren't alone anymore did a lot to soothe your anxiety and give you hope.

“How much further?” Kid huffed as he stomped along behind you.

“Why, tired already, captain?” you teased.

“Oi, some of us have spent the last month in a labour camp,” Kid scowled, before quickly remembering you hadn't had things much better, “Sorry, I'm fine to keep going for now, I was just curious.”

“It's still a few more hours, I think,” you hummed.

“You think?”

“I didn't have to take the long way last time,” you sighed, “have some patience, Eustass. This country is fucking crawling with Beast Pirates, and some of them can fly. We have to stay hidden.”

“Fine, whatever,” Kid grumbled.

The edge of the treeline came into view as you worked your way through the brambles, and you pressed your spare hand against Kid's chest to indicate for him to stop, the two of you squatting behind a bush. You adjusted the settings on your visor, searching for any nearby sounds or heat signatures that would indicate enemies. The next treeline was a good five hundred metres away, it was a decent distance to go without cover, so you needed to be extra careful, making sure to scan the skies as well. A group of warm bodies heading your way caught your attention, making you glad you'd taken the time to stop and check.

“Incoming,” you whispered, “big group of them, prisoner escort on their way to Udon I think, I can see one with shackles on.”

The two of you hid in the bushes, thankfully with no need for your devil fruit with the thick foliage, you could only hope that there would be nobody with good observation haki among the group. Even if you cloaked the two of you, you couldn't mask against decent haki. You heard Kid take a deep breath and hold it as the group came into view, maybe you should have warned him you'd masked sounds, to keep any accidental rustling from giving away your positon. Based on their clothing you could see they were all Beast Pirates, led by one on horseback, who dragged behind him a prisoner led by a long chain. Your breath hitched as you saw who they had, grabbing Kid's forearm and gripping it with a strength that told him something was very wrong. He hadn't seen him yet, or perhaps hadn't recognized him, given how wildly different he looked, and even moved, compared to the man Kid had been raised by.

“Killer,” you said in a hushed tone. Kid's brows, or lack thereof, shot up, amber eyes flicking between you and the blonde being forced to walk behind them.

“You're sure?” Kid replied with gritted teeth.

“One hundred percent,” you stammered. Kid made a move like he was going to stand, and you gripped him harder. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Freeing him,” Kid growled.

“And how are you gonna do that?” You hissed back, “you're unarmed, literally, without your devil fruit. All you've got is me and I'm just as fucking exhausted as you are. I don't have the energy to take that many. Not to mention we don't know if Killer will fight them or us. We're outnumbered, it's better to let them take him and free him later.”

“Fuck that,” Kid growled, “they're not taking him to that shit hole. I'll fight them on my own if I have to.”

“Kid! Don't!” You pleaded, “look, they have guns, even if you can take them hand-to-hand, you can't do shit if they shoot you. You're strong but you're not fucking bulletproof.”

As you argued with your captain the group got closer, the two of you turning to watch as Killer walked by. He stopped for a moment, staring directly at the bush where the two of you were hiding, and you knew full well that his haki told him the two of you were there. The horse-mounted pirate tugged at his chain, forcing him to continue, and he threw back his head and laughed as his feet moved again. It wasn't a happy laugh. It wasn't a laugh that said ‘my crew are here, and they're going to free me’. No, it was all pain, mixed up in his brain by the defective SMILE fruit, his true emotion was only fear and hopelessness, you could sense it in his brainwaves. Your chest felt tight watching him walk, and Kid made a soft growl beside you. There was no doubt in his mind now that it was his friend, and that something was very wrong with him. Killer never laughed out loud around strangers, let alone enemies. He hated his laugh more than anything, suppressed it except in the presence of those he loved and trusted most. Everything you'd told Kid was true, as much as he hadn't wanted to believe it, and if it weren't for his bubbling rage, he would have cried.

Kid moved to stand once again, pushing you away when you tried to stop him. “Kid, please,” you begged, “listen to reason, you can't help him right now, they have too much advantage.”

“Who's the captain here?” He bit back, “either you're with me, or you're against me. You're gonna help me free him, or you're gonna stay the fuck out of my way.”

“Kid, please!” you shouted, glad for your power masking the sounds of the argument, “you're just going to get us both captured!”

“Then don't fucking come with me,” he growled, “stay here like a fucking coward.”

Tears welled in your eyes as your hand dropped away from him. His heart hurt seeing your expression fall, but his anger was still in control of him. It always was when Killer wasn't there to show him there was a better way, only Killer had ever been able to convince him to stop and think. Kid had a one track mind to get his best friend back, and he wasn't going to let anyone stop him, not even you. Which only gave you one choice.

“Kid, please, if they take you again I might not be able to free you this time,” you reasoned, “I can't let you go out there.”

“Let me?” Kid growled. He grabbed your face and pinched your chin between his fingers hard, and you whimpered, immediately going back to that dark place in your mind that you thought you'd never have to return to. The one where every man in power was a threat to you, and you had to behave, or face the painful consequences. “You don't let me do anything, you fuckin’ hear me? You're my subordinate, and you're gonna do as you're fuckin’ told. Or you can find yourself a new crew.”

Something in your brain snapped then, images of Thompson's body under your knife flickering behind your closed eyes. His blood and piss pooling on the floor, the fearful expression on his face, the way he cried out when you cut him. His life draining from him as he choked on his own dick, the light in his eyes fading by your hand. ‘Never again,’ your mind chanted, ‘never again, NEVER AGAIN.’

“Fine,” you spat back, your voice laced with venom, “you can find yourself a new weapon. I'm fucking done. I'll find Heat on my own, you already know full fucking well he'll choose me over you. And as for Killer, you can explain to him for yourself where I am, why his girlfriend and daughter aren't back on the ship. See if he stays by your side after that.”

Kid let you go quickly, shock evident on his face. He didn't think you'd be so quick to quit, he thought he would be able to convince you to help him if he just threatened you. In the blink of an eye he'd ruined the months of trust he'd built up with you, and he immediately regretted it, but it only served to make him angrier. His anger was misplaced though, it wasn't you he was angry at, it was himself, and Kaido for tearing his family apart in the first place. But right now the only person here to receive his wrath was you, and he'd never been good at holding back when he was mad.

Multiple things happened in the blink of an eye. Before you could register it, a seastone-cuffed fist was flying at you, landing square in your gut and knocking the air out of you. You went down hard, wheezing and struggling for air as your arms wrapped around your stomach. In your struggle you groaned loudly, revealing Kid to the enemy, who spotted him immediately. You had the self-preservation to mask yourself with invisibility, but in your anger and pain you decided to leave Kid on his own. He'd made an enemy of you, he wasn't your problem anymore. He insisted he could hold his own, so he could fucking hold his own.

Next came the laughter, Killer turning manic as chaos unfolded, barely masking the two gunshots that rang out. Your vision was blurry as you lay on the ground, but you could see enough to watch Kid go down, a smug smile on your face as he realised too late that you'd been right. As soon as he went down, he knew it was over, as the pirates used the butts of their guns and swords to beat Kid until he was too hurt to fight back, all the while set to the eerie sound of Killer's mania. Your smug smile was wiped from your face as you watched them drag Kid to his feet. A new chain was attached to his cuff, which was then linked to Killer's, and the two of them were forced to walk again.

You laid shell-shocked on the ground, releasing your cloaking as soon as they were far enough, all your energy now going into the harsh sobs that racked through your body as you realised that once again, you were alone. You stayed there until night fell, curled up in a ball with your knees to your chest, wheezing as the sobs agitated your bruised ribs, twigs and stones digging into your side. The temperature dropped and you began to shiver violently, until you had no choice but to get your shit together. You had to keep going, at the very least you had to help yourself, and if not for your own sake then for Dawn's, and for Heat. Even if you couldn't get Killer out of prison on your own, you could at least sneak in and get information out of him, find out where they were keeping Heat and the others, rescue the rest of the crew, and then guide them to rescue Kid and Killer. Once you freed the rest of the crew, your commitment to them would be over, and you would leave with Heat and Dawn. Steal a ship and leave this awful fucking country for good. Maybe Killer would come find you, but you couldn't let yourself hope right now that he would even ever be himself again, hoping would only lead to more heartbreak.

With shaky breaths you struggled to your feet, your mind set. You would go to Udon, but only for information. For now, you just needed to get somewhere safe, and without Kid you could now move much faster, cutting back to your abandoned shack as fast as your legs would take you, relying on your devil fruit to keep you hidden. You ran for what felt like hours, collapsing immediately as soon as you made it inside the dilapidated building, and quickly passing out from exhaustion.

[NEXT CHAPTER] - link soon

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[ihearthes]

Gospel Oak Primary School

Author: @ihearthes

Pairing: Harry x Original Named Female Character

Rating: Fluffy Meet Cute

Word Count: 2776

Rachel was sprawled on her back, her body twisted into an unnatural knot. Her right knee jutted out at an odd angle, one arm flung carelessly above her head, the other partially tucked beneath her. Harry Styles lay atop her, his breathing a stark contrast to her laboured gasps. His face was buried between her breasts, a position she had often fantasised about. But now that she was actually experiencing it, the reality fell short of her expectations. Harry's hands were scattered haphazardly, one resting on her shoulder, the other clutching his own thigh.

The oppressive heat of his body enveloped her, a suffocating weight that pressed down on her senses. She squeezed her eyes shut, desperately trying to savour a moment that had been anything but blissful. The collision of their bodies was a jarring, uncomfortable clash, a stark contrast to the romantic fantasy she had conjured. After all, how often does one find themselves entwined with the legendary Harry Styles, a man whose image is plastered across magazine covers and plastered on the hearts of millions?

“Bloody hell!” Rachel swore, mentally checking her body for any lasting damage from the impact of his body with hers.

“I’m so sorry!” Harry scrambled to his feet, seeking his phone, his eyes roaming the space where they had been entangled. Locating it, he leaned over to grab it quickly before he reached out a hand for her. “Are you hurt?” 

She shook her head as she grasped his hand to rise from where they had been lying. “Only my pride, I think, although I suspect I’ll be a bit sore tomorrow.” The wince that accompanied her words was proof that she was already anticipating the painful muscles. 

Earlier that day, the final bell of the day had rung, a sweet symphony that promised escape from the chaos of the classroom. As Rachel carefully assessed her remaining time and the tasks she still had to complete, she found herself trapped in a conversation with Leo, the new maths teacher, a man whose complaints were as endless as the day was long.

"Oliver's parents are driving me mad," Leo lamented, his voice rising in a crescendo of frustration. "They keep demanding more and more homework. I've given him mountains of work to do at home, but it's never enough!"

Rachel tried to soothe his ruffled feathers. "I'm sure you're doing your best, Leo." But her words fell on deaf ears.

"He gets three times the homework as the other kids," Leo continued, his voice growing louder. "I've tried explaining to his parents that he needs time to play and socialise, but they won't listen. He must spend hours every night doing homework!"

As Leo's voice droned on, Rachel noticed his gaze wandering south. His eyes lingered on her chest, a blatant disregard for her discomfort. Finding a convenient excuse, she broke away from the conversation with a quick, “Oh, I forgot to respond to the headmaster!” before hurrying back to her classroom.

With a sigh of relief in the silence of her own class, she began planning her lessons for the next day. But as she glanced at the clock, a wave of panic washed over her. If she didn't leave immediately, she would be late for her super important first date with the guy whose attention she had been clamouring for during the previous three weeks. 

With a frantic tug, Rachel snatched her crossbody bag and lunchbox, her phone tumbling into the chaotic jumble of items within. Her heart pounding in her chest, she bolted from her classroom, her footsteps echoing through the deserted hallways. Her short legs pumped with renewed energy, propelling her curvy body forward at a breakneck pace. She scanned the hallways with a wary eye, desperately hoping to avoid another encounter with the insufferable Leo.

That morning, Harry had lounged in the sun-drenched comfort of his bedroom, his eyes fluttering open to the gentle caress of morning light. With a leisurely yawn, he slipped into workout attire and strolled to his home gym. There, he moved through a series of stretches, humming a new melody he had composed the day before. His workouts were less about sculpting his physique and more about maintaining overall well-being. Not that he was ashamed of his appearance; he simply preferred a more relaxed approach to fitness during his downtime between tours.

After an invigorating shower, Harry indulged in a breakfast of yoghurt and fresh fruit from his own garden. Then, with a sense of contentment, he retreated to his study to work on some poetry and potential lyrics. The words flowed effortlessly from his pen, transforming his thoughts into passionate expressions. When inspiration struck, he would wander over to his piano and experiment with different chord progressions, sometimes attempting to recreate a jazz tune he had heard during his workout.

After a leisurely lunch of sun-ripened tomatoes, homemade mozzarella, and a splash of his favourite Italian olive oil, a pang of realisation struck Harry. He didn't have any fresh baguettes for tonight's dinner. His sister, Gemma, was bringing her baby over, and his sister had a voracious appetite for vegetarian fare. Harry had planned to whip up a batch of homemade pasta with his own tangy marinara sauce, using fresh vegetables from his garden.

A grin spread across his face as he grabbed his green Pleasing bag. The pride he felt in creating meals from the fruits of his labour was immense. This would be the first time he had cooked for his sister, and with the baby old enough for purees, he had grand plans.

"Mushy carrots and peas will be perfect!" Harry chuckled, his excitement bubbling over. Both vegetables would come straight from his garden. How had he lived without the joy of homegrown produce for so long?

Pulling a light windbreaker over his shirt, he paused once more to gaze at his face in the mirror. Should he shave? Nah. Maybe tonight before Gemma and Michal actually arrive, but not yet. 

After leaving the bakery where he purchased three distinctly different baguettes, he was thrilled to find a Lime Bike right there, as if it were waiting for him. Scanning the QR code on the bike, he found that it was available. Slinging the green Pleasing bag, now holding fresh flowers for the dinner table, over his shoulder, Harry set off for home, the baguettes in the basket of the rented bicycle. His Airpods were delivering a delectable diet of music from recent releases and a few of his favourites directly to his ear canals. 

His phone buzzed with a text message, and Harry took his eyes off of the footpath in front of him for only a moment to read what his sister had to say. 

Which is precisely when the collision with Rachel happened. 

Sprawled across her, the bike wrapped around his legs, he blushed upon realising that his lips were quite close to her breastbone – not at all a good location for a first meeting with a stranger. 

She sputtered, rightfully so. “Bloody hell!” 

“I’m so sorry!” He scrambled for his phone which had gone flying from his hand when he’d run into her or she’d run into him. No way for him to know for sure which way it happened. “Are you hurt?” 

“Only my pride, I think, although I suspect I’ll be a bit sore tomorrow.” She grasped his outstretched hand, using his strength to haul her to a standing position. 

“I shouldn’t have been looking at my phone,” they both revealed simultaneously before surprise caused their foreheads to crease, their eyebrows to rise, and a laugh to explode as though they were twins. 

“I’m sorry.” The woman looked at her feet. “I’m Rachel.” She thrust her hand forward, and he clutched it like a hiker grasping a sturdy branch in a storm.

“Harry.” 

“I know.” 

Following her pronouncement, they both stood awkwardly for a moment before Rachel shifted to the side. “Your baguettes seem to have escaped.” While she gathered them, Harry stepped to the bicycle, lifting it to its appropriate position and checking to be sure it hadn’t been harmed and was still streetworthy. Luckily, these rentals were built to withstand the worst possible collisions. 

“Thank you.” His response when she put the baguettes back into his bicycle basket was perfunctory, but then he tilted his head. 

Everything before then had been a blur, but now he could see her clearly. Rachel was a petite woman with a vibrant personality that belied her small stature. Her dark, curly hair framed her face in soft tendrils, and her full figure added a touch of voluptuousness to her overall appearance. Her eyes, a deep shade of brown, sparkled with intelligence and mischief, inviting others to delve into her world.

“You were heading somewhere in a hurry.” The statement rose at the end like a question. 

“Yes, one of my students – he’s playing footie today, and I promised I’d come watch him, but I’m afraid I’ll miss him if I don’t hurry along.” She adjusted her bag across her body, fumbling her phone. “Please don’t think I’m rude. If this were any other day and I had run into the famous Harry Styles, I’d be much more effusive. It’s just that…” She began walking along, talking to him over her shoulder, “I’ve been trying to get this kid on my side for ages now, and football is the only thing that matters to him. Maybe we’ll run into each other another time!”

She waved over her shoulder as she walked away, kicking herself for having missed her chance to chat with the popstar. But she’d been regretting her inability to develop a relationship with Josiah for weeks. He was more important at that moment.

Watching her walk away, Harry realised he might never have another opportunity to talk to her again. He cursed under his breath before following behind her on the bike. When he caught up, he dismounted and walked alongside her.

“That’s really kind of you,” he commented. 

She jumped and twisted her body to him, a frown creasing her brow. “What is? And why are you following me?” 

“I like footie,” he shrugged. “And it’s really kind that you’re willing to go see your student practise so you can connect with him.” 

“Well, he’s a bit of a terror,” she laughed, glancing at the time on her phone. 

“Oh, no!” Harry exclaimed, “I broke your phone.” 

“Huh?” She examined the phone with its cracked screen and then a guffaw left her body, the sound one of pure joy, making Harry’s heart happy. “No, my phone has been broken since last spring when last year’s terror took it off my desk and threw it from the top of the playground play structure.” 

“But how do you see everything with that giant spider’s web of cracks on it?” He was sincerely bemused. 

“You can get used to anything when you haven’t the money to replace something just because it’s broken.” 

“But couldn’t you get the screen replaced?” 

“Probably,” she revealed, crossing the street at the zebra crossing to get to the practice field. “But there’s never any time to take it anywhere. I’ll just wait until my next paycheck. Then I can put a downpayment on a new one.” 

“Oh.” 

She was scurrying a bit faster now that they were close to the field, and her breaths became more laboured. “I’m going to be late. I hope I don’t miss everything.” 

Harry couldn’t believe that her short legs could move so quickly, and he had to lengthen his stride to keep up with her as she turned into the park where parents and children were gathered. Standing on the sidelines, Rachel covered her eyes and searched the boys on the pitch. 

“There he is!” Excitedly, she pointed to a young man of about 10 years of age. “Josiah!” Jumping up and down, she waved until he looked over to her. 

For a brief moment, his face reflected happiness, but then he waved her off as he turned back to his friends. Harry slumped in disappointment. He had thought her presence would do the trick, but apparently she was going to have to make a bigger effort. 

“Oof, that wasn’t encouraging.” 

“What are you talking about?!” She squealed. “He was practically overjoyed to see me. This is indeed a success.” 

Confused, Harry watched her face, convinced that perhaps he had the wrong boy in mind, but she followed every move the boy made. She clapped and called his name whenever he caught a pass or blocked someone. When he missed the goal he’d been attempting, Rachel cheered even louder from the sidelines, telling him, “That’s okay, Josiah! You’ll get it next time!” She took photos and videos as though she were the proudest parent.

The boy ignored her for the most part. 

Shaking his head, Harry wondered if perhaps she had lost her mind, but he wanted her to be successful in her endeavour so he joined in with her cheers until the practice finally ended, and the boys gathered with their coach. 

“Aren’t you going to go talk to him?” Harry wondered as she placed her phone into her bag. 

“Goodness, no. That would embarrass him.” 

“But…” Helpless and confuddled, Harry watched as she started to walk away. His phone vibrated again, and he glanced at it to spy a message from Gemma saying she wouldn’t be able to come for dinner after all as his niece had gotten her jabs that morning and was finally sleeping. 

Well, this afternoon and evening weren’t going as he had planned. Not at all. 

“Miss K!” A voice grew closer to them, and Rachel paused before turning. 

Harry spotted the beginning of a smile on her face, but she quickly schooled it into a more inquiring expression. “Yes, Josiah?” 

He threw his muddy arms around her, “Thank you for coming.” With the words and hug complete, the boy turned and immediately scampered away. 

Rachel’s face was shining with a mixture of pleasure and tears. She blinked, then focused on Harry. “Definitely not a wasted trip. It was a treat to meet you, Harry, despite the circumstances. Thanks for joining me at the game.” 

No, no, no. She wasn’t getting away that easily. 

“The pleasure was all mine, Rachel.” 

Hearing his voice say her name tripled the tingles she felt as a result of Josiah’s actions towards her. Tonight she would have to devote two pages to this single day in her journal. Maybe three pages. 

As she walked back towards the school, she was surprised to find Harry pushing the bicycle next to her once more. Well, it was a free country. He hadn’t harmed her, and he was not a threat of any sort, so she allowed it. 

“Your fit got dirty,” Harry pointed out. 

“Small price to pay. It will wash out.” 

As they returned to the footpath next to her, pushing the bicycle with its sad baguettes still in the basket, Rachel paused. “You’re still here.” 

“Oh. Uh…” Stumped, Harry couldn’t articulate what he was thinking. Finally, he simply allowed the words to flow slowly from his mouth as he considered what he wanted, “I, uh, wondered if…you see, my sister was supposed to bring my, uh, niece, for, you know, dinner tonight. Um, I had planned to make, uh, homemade pasta and sauce for them. Hence the, uh…” His gesture encompassed the baguettes. “How would you, uh, feel about, um, joining me?” 

Gulping, Rachel could not believe what she was hearing. Her? Going to the actual house of Harry? Surely he misspoke. 

“You mean, you’d like to take me out to dinner?” 

He pulled on his lip with his free hand. “Not exactly, uh, cause that would, um, make people, like, um, speculate. But I am planning to, uh, you know, cook tonight. From my, uh, garden.”

Sharply, Rachel glanced at him. Was he some sort of pervert? Wouldn’t she have heard by now if he were a freak who invited women to his home and then skinned them alive or something? Then again, what did she have to lose other than her life? 

“Sure,” she smiled. A banner day, for sure. Not only had she made progress with Josiah, which had been her primary goal – well, she also seemed to have made progress with another guy after a long, dry spell. 

Harry moved the baguettes to his arms, abandoning the rental bike so that he could walk alongside this charming woman. This night would be just as awesome as if it had gone as planned. Maybe even better? 

[nochepsicodelica]

Toji who leaves hickeys all over you so often that you have to push him away when you start looking like you fought an octopus.

"Toji, you know these aren't always gonna be so small. They're gonna end up looking like bruises. Just look at the ones you already left."

"Mhm," he hums, already leaving another one on your shoulder blade, releasing your skin with a wet smack of his lips. He rubs his spit into the mark like it's some sort of salve that'll make it last longer.

"I'm fine with these," you say, looking at all the one's he left on your chest and below. "but my neck... i'm running out of makeup, baby. I won't be able to cover them if you keep this up."

"Then don't." He would just love that. Despite how nonchalant he sounds about it, it's a highly recommended suggestion. He would genuinely love it if you walked around with his marks all over your neck. People will automatically know that you already have someone you get freaky with.

"I have to go to work sometime. I wouldn't be able to take having my neck stared at by everyone I talk to. No more neck hickeys."

He nears your neck, again. The second you say he can't put another mark on it, he spots a clear area and leans in, lightly pressing his lips against it.

"Tojiii," you whine, leaning forward, away from him. "Leave it alone."

"But, it's clear. It's lonely without being marked like the rest of your neck." He scoots forward again, putting his enormous hands on your waist to pull you close. "I'll be quick. Just-"

"Mm-mm. No," you interrupt, brushing his hands off of you.

"I might just die if you don't let me do this, ma."

"Really?" You raise your brows in disbelief.

"Really," he responds, so confidently.

You scoff. "You're so dramatic. You won't die if you don't get to suck on my neck."

"Who knows? I might spontaneously collapse because of it. Weirder, more unexplainable things have happened."

He's so dumb sometimes. Your hunk is absolutely ridiculous, and yet you find yourself weighing towards his point in this.

"Would marking up that blank space actually cure you?" You feel as silly as him for asking the question.

"Who's to say?"

You tilt your head and deadpan. "Right. I guess i'll take my chances and just keep the random patch of unmarked skin on my neck."

"Hey, that doesn't mean we can't try. Come on, now."

You groan and roll your eyes before making your way back to him. He cups your cheeks, smirking as he looks into your eyes, before turning your head to expose the blank area on your neck.

"It's a reaaally good spot, doll. I think i'm gonna make it."

You huff, unable to look at him because of the way your head is turned. You feel his tongue slide over your neck, the gesture transitioning to his lips kissing the area and then it feels sharp. His lips leave a stinging sensation with every second that they stay on you.

"Ow, fuck, you vampire. It feels like you're actually trying to suck the blood out of me." You wince. "Are you done?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm done." He admires his masterpiece and smirks with pride. You have an entire collar of hickeys that he put on you, and the newest one looks mean.

"You look pretty. Could eat you up, mama." He swipes at the new mark with his thumb, looking at the color that will remain on your skin for the next few days.

"I can tell. You already devoured me. You're insane. Just look at all of this," you say, running your hand over your kiss stained neck.

"I was just nibbling on you," he speaks, into your jaw, before smoothly laying you down, onto the bed. "Just wanted a little taste," he says, taking your hands in his and pinning them above your head. "Am I really insane for that?"

"Um..." you laugh, making your flustered state obvious. "Yes?"

"Damn." He gives you a long, deep kiss, that makes you forget what you were talking about. "You think i'm crazy?" You hum, and he does it again.

"Haven't you played with me enough? I feel like i'm some chew toy for you." You giggle, feeling his lips on your cheek, trailing towards your jaw.

He hums, dismissively. "Found more blank space."

[sugume]

MOMENTS WITH YOUR PREGNANT BELLY w/Jujutsu Kaisen  

( CW ) f!reader, reader is pregnant(duh), tooth-rotting fluff  

Featuring: Gojo Satoru, Toji Fushiguro, Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru 

author's note: short rewrite from my old blog

☾ GOJO SATORU 

"Toru, stop splashing my stomach!" you exclaimed at your playful husband, attempting to push the lukewarm bathwater onto your stomach, inadvertently splashing your face. "But she likes it, look!" he exclaimed with a huge smile as your daughter continued to kick your stomach. "I don’t need to look; I can feel it," you rolled your eyes. "Feels like she’s trying to break my ribs." You let out a little grunt when she kicks a particular spot. Satoru shoots a worried glance at you. "Are you alright?" he asks, rubbing smooth circles on your stomach. "I'm okay; she just keeps kicking the same spot," you gave him a small smile when he leans down to kiss your belly. "Hey now, take it easy on your momma, or no more splashes for you," he mummers to your stomach. As if your daughter understood, she stops and starts gently kicking in another area. "Look, Angel, she listened to me!" he exclaims before pushing more water into your stomach. "Toru! You got water in my nose!" 

☾ TOJI FUSHIGURO 

"Are you okay, beautiful?" Toji inquired, concern evident in his eyes as he observes you holding your stomach with a furrowed expression. "Just a big kick from the baby," you struggle to get out, your stomach contracting. "C'mere--lemme make you feel better, baby," he whispered, sitting up on the headboard of the bed and pulling you between his open legs. "What are you doing, Toji?" You question as your husband reached towards the nightstand to grab something. "Makin’ my girl feel better–just lay down and relax," he whispers in your ear before placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder. With the cramps becoming unbearable, you had no other choice but to obey. Eyes squeezed tight, body resting on Toji’s toned chest, you tense when he starts to gently massage your stomach with what feels like lotion. A moan of relief escaped you involuntarily. "That’s right, let me take care of you," he mummers, continuing the soothing massage. 

☾ NANAMI KENTO 

"Are you ready to taste heaven, babies?" Nanami smiles warmly at your stomach as if expecting your unborn twins to give a response. Quickly, he leans down and places two affectionate kisses on your stomach, one for each baby. "C'mon, Kento, ’m hungry!" you pout, crossing your arms over your chest. Nanami was supposed to be giving you new food items that he found online, but the more he talks, the more it seems like he's eager for his children to be the taste testers rather than you. "You know they can’t actually give you a review, right?" you question your husband, but he ignores your sass and reaches for a plate. "Duh, ‘course I know that, but they're still going to taste it inside of you," he says as if it's the most obvious thing. "Yeah, all mashed up and mixed with a bunch of different foods. Now, give me that plate–I’m hungry!" you insist, reaching out for the plate as your husband laughs. 

☾ GETO SUGURU 

"I don’t think they like me," Suguru grumbles, and you laugh as your unborn child tries and fails to kick their father's head off your stomach. "Hell," Suguru yanks his head up and glares at your protruding stomach. "Hey, don’t cuss at my baby," you laugh. "I wouldn’t have to if my baby wasn’t trying to give me a concussion," he rolls his eyes dramatically before rubbing his calloused fingers on your stomach, The baby kicks at his hand. "Don't be so dramatic, Sugu," you roll your eyes at your husband as he continues to tease your child with his hand. "How do you think I feel when they’re kicking my bladder at three AM?" you laugh. "You better not come out as moody as your mommy," he taunts before pressing a soft kiss on your stomach. "I’ll give you whatever you want when you come out if you let me lay down in peace, deal?" he whispers to your stomach, and all he gets is a harsh kick. "Deserved.” You huff out. 

[rafecameroninterlude]

rafe + size kink

warnings: size difference, fingering, unprotected sex, stomach bulge

“please, i want more!” rafe’s lips ghosted over your own as he spoke, “you can barely take my fingers, what makes you think you’re ready for the real thing?” he teased, making you whimper. “i could take it, i promise.” rafe kissed the corner of your lips, curling his digits to hit that soft spot inside of you. “i don’t know about that, baby. i might break you in half.” he laughed as you desperately clung to him, your thighs threatening to snap shut. “i don’t care! i just want you inside of me.” you mewled. rafe thought for a second; eyes running down your pleading face.

“let me show you something.” he pulled his fingers out of your tight cunt, popping the digits in his mouth before revealing his hard cock. “look down.” rafe cradled the back of your head as you did what he said. you couldn’t help but moan at the sight of his length laying flat against your stomach. “the tip stops just right above your belly button. you couldn’t handle that.” he shook his head. “yes i could! please, let me show you.” you gazed up at him, fingers stroking his chest. rafe knew you well enough to know that you wouldn’t stop begging until you got what you wanted. “just remember you asked for this..”

“oh, my god!” you practically screamed as rafe drilled into you, his large hands encircling the entirety of your waist as your ankles rested on his shoulders. he’d been fucking you for about ten minutes now and your cunt was still only taking half of his cock. he left sloppy, wet, open-mouthed kisses on your neck. you looked so tiny underneath his giant build, his arms swallowing you whole once he caged you between them. rafe was trying to hold out for your sake, but with your tight cunt sucking him in like a vice, it was getting harder and harder for him to control himself.

he was going to cum if he kept looking at your face, so he flipped you over, pushing your head into the pillows. “i told you i could take it-” you mumbled, your words being cut short once he filled you to the hilt. rafe leaned down, gripping the back of your neck. “you sure?” you gasped, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as your eyebrows knitted together in pure bliss. he grabbed your hand, placing it on your lower tummy. “you feel that?” you met his stare as you felt a bulge running across your palm. “y-you’re so big, rafe..” he groaned at your words, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“i know, baby. now fucking take it.”

[adimilkys]

JJK men waking up horny at night

MDNI : 18+, smut, somnophilia, masturbation, p in v, degradation and much more

Contains : Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Toji Fushigiro, Choso Kamo, Ryomen Sukuna (I was throwing up while writing his bitch ass 😾 I still love you Sukuna 😔)

small note : remember! Consent is everything, so let’s say the reader and character made an agreement on not minding if they would wake up to head etc. Not proof read

Gojo Satoru

He often got wet dreams, either waking up to morning wood or- waking up in the middle of the night.

And that’s what happened this time, it’s 3 am and Satoru let out a groan as his eyes opened, his whole face was red, it was so goddamn hot in here. He looked over at your peaceful face, wrapped his hands around you and pulled you closer.

He breathed in your smell, leaving kisses all around your neck and shoulders, slightly grinding his hard cock against your ass.

“Fuck… not letting me rest in my sleep either.” A quiet whine left his mouth, one hand going under his shirt that you were wearing, while the other one pulled your panties to the side, you usually only slept in his shirt and your panties, so he had easy access to your body.

“Baby… I need you…” two of his fingers entered you, he started moving them slowly and scissoring them, you let out a soft moan and clenched your thighs together- but still asleep.

He sped up his pace, taking his own cock into his hand and started stroking it. You let out a louder moan, feeling something tighten inside your stomach.

Suddenly your eyes shot open as your hand instantly went to grab his wrist. “T-Toru!” You cried as he added a third finger.

“M’sorry baby… I was so horny…” he was also close, groaning as he was stroking his cock faster.

“C-Can I put it in? Please please I need to feel you…” You nodded, not able to say anything, the only sounds leaving your mouth being moans of his name.

His fingers left your hole, you whined at the lost sensation but it was immediately replaced with his cock, you gasped at the feeling of being so full. He had your back against his chest. His arms were wrapped around your thighs, holding them up so it was easier for him to slide in.

His thrusts were slow and deep, hitting your cervix every time.

“Toru!! Ah- c-close!” You moaned, your nails were digging into his shoulder as he fastened his pace.

“S-shit… me too baby, me too.” One of his hands left your thigh, letting it lay on the bed, it instead went to your clit.

Your eyes rolled back and your back arched as you came, he wasn’t far behind, a few more strokes and he buried himself deep inside and shot his loads of cum.

As he pulled out you both were a panting mess. He moved your panties back, his hands wrapping around your waist and head hid in your shoulder.

“I’ll clean you up in the morning…”

Nanami Kento

It was rare for him to get wet dreams, it basically never happened, until this night.

He was rock hard and itching to touch you but he didn’t want to wake you up. You came back from work really late and exhausted, it was a hard day for you.

He could just jerk off, but he wanted you so bad. He got onto his knees, making you lay on your back as he pushed your legs apart, slowly pulling your panties off, making sure you won’t wake up.

He grabbed his cock in his hand and started stroking it, imagining it was your hand right now. You were so cute asleep, his beautiful wife.

You probably would tease him for days if you found out what he was doing, he just wanted to quickly get off to your body and go back to sleep.

He leaned down, kissing all over your exposed cleavage and neck, leaving small marks with every kiss, you’ll probably wake up and wonder where’d they come from.

He’ll explain himself tomorrow, right now it wasn’t important. What was is that he’s closer and closer, he started moving his hand faster, shooting out ropes all over your stomach that was exposed due to your shirt being ridden up, following with a muffled moan.

When he calmed down, he grabbed a tissue from the shelf and cleaned the cum off you. Putting your panties back down and laying down next to you, cuddling you.

Toji Fushigiro

He dreamt of you pregnant all over again, your round belly, filled with his child. He knows he has a breeding kink, so it’s obvious that he has gotten hard just from thinking about it.

Megumi wouldn’t mind a little brother, or maybe sister. Fuck, he wanted to get you pregnant again. He knows you’re on that shitty pill- he needs to flush them down the fucking toilet.

But right now all he needed was you. He grabbed your sleeping face and slammed his lips on yours, making you gasp, which allowed his tongue to enter.

“Mhmm- too-ji?” You muffled out barely awake, confused why in the middle of the night your man started furiously attacking your mouth.

“Fuck- feel what you did to me doll, got me all hard even in my sleep, yeah?” You let out another gasp, feeling his hard erection press against your clothed pussy.

Not letting you say anything he ripped your panties and immediately positioned his cock against your entrance.

“T-Toji! What if we wake up Megumi-”

“Then you have to quiet down all these pretty sounds, hm?” And just like that he slammed his dick inside of you. You quickly bit down on your hand, muffling your loud cry.

Not letting you adjust, he continued slamming in and out of you at a quick pace. Tears filled your eyes from the pleasure, trying the best to muffle your loud moans. Your other hand scratched at his back.

He grabbed the hand that was covering your mouth and replaced it with his lips, you could’ve sworn you felt his tongue in your throat, it was a messy kiss- tongues and teeth clashing together. Then he moved down to your neck, leaving marks all over it.

“A-Ah! S-Slo’down- T’muchhh!” Instead of actually slowing down, he only went faster if that was even possible at this point.

“I know you can take it, doll. You always do.” With every thrust you were closer, it was also hard to be quiet with this beast of a man slamming into you at an inhuman pace.

“Toji- close so close!”

“Come on, cum f’me” Your head threw back, not able to contain the loud cry that left your mouth, his pussy clamped down so hard on his cock that he came short after you, letting out a load groan as he filled you up.

“One more round?”

“Toji- wait, AH-”

Choso Kamo

You’re his first ever partner, he’s still not used to all those relationships things. So just imagine his confusion when he woke up at 2 am, his dick rock hard and his body hot.

He looked over to you, sleeping so beautifully, you were asleep and didn’t even do anything- what happened??

He couldn’t go back to sleep, he was too horny. You won’t be mad if he wakes you up, right?

He carefully shook you, calling out your name. After a minute you opened your eyes, mumbling out some incorrect words. When you saw it was Choso who was sitting up, looking all worried you immediately raised yourself up on your hands.

“Love…? What’s wrong?” You asked, his face got red immediately, embarrassed to say what happened.

“I- woke up and my dick was hard, I didn’t know what happened so I woke you up.” You stared at him and let out a soft laugh, sitting up next to him.

“Oh baby, you probably just had a wet dream.” He looked at you confused, still not understanding what that meant.

“A wet dream is when you dream about something sexual.” He let out a quiet ohh, you shook your head smiling.

“Want me to help?” He didn’t move for a while before slowly shaking his head, still embarrassed that he had to wake you up for that. You took his dick in your hands, slowly moving them up and down before lowering your head and leaving kisses all over his cock.

His hand buried itself in your hair as he let out a quiet moan, begging you to not tease him. You complied to his request, taking as much of him as you can in your mouth.

He slightly thrust his hips forward, making the head of his cock hit the back of your throat. “M-m’sorry… had too-“ he whined as your plump lips dragged on his dick, your mouth so warm. The rest that you couldn’t fit in was wrapped around your hand, not being forgotten.

The way you looked up at him, the way that your mouth moved- he was getting closer and you knew it, your movement got faster and he gripped your hair tightly, letting out a moan as he came inside your mouth.

You swallowed it all, giving his head a last kiss before raising yourself up and wiping the corners of your lips with your hand. “You did so good love” he blushed at the praise,

“I’ll repay you tomorrow, okay?”

“Choso, you know you don’t have to-”

“But I want to.”

Ryomen Sukuna

He will not wake you up and admit that he got hard because of a stupid dream, there’s absolutely no way. He won’t ‘jerk off’ either, that would be just low of him.

So he will indeed wake you up but by his cock inside of you. He immediately got to work, ripping your panties off and throwing them somewhere in the room, getting in between your legs as he picked them up and held them against your chest.

He spit down on your pussy, the cold sensation making you shiver in your sleep. He grabbed one of his cocks and positioned it against your entrance, he would use both but getting you prepared for the other one would take too long.

And with a quick thrust he was deep inside of you, filling you up. The sudden intruder immediately woke you up, letting out pleasurable but also painful scream.

“Ngh—! wha-?!” Your eyes darted around the room before laying on the huge frame of Sukuna, who was glaring at you.

“Quiet, brat. This is your fault so now take it.” Your back arched off the mattress as he suddenly started moving, still half asleep not knowing what’s happening.

“Ryo-! Wait! Let me-” before you could finish your sentence a loud moan left your mouth, he did not plan on giving you any mercy with how fast he was ramming inside you.

You yelped as he slapped your ass harshly, “That’s for waking me up, brat.” You wanted to reply to him but you couldn’t form the words, even if you did you knew that would just result in another slap.

He didn’t even bother at pulling out as he picked you up and flipped you onto your stomach like a ragdoll. Continuing with his harsh slams, you felt every vein, with how big he was he was hitting every spot inside your pussy.

His hand grabbed your head and pushed you further into the pillow, making you arch more. He was slamming into you so hard it felt like he was rearranging your guts. The knot in your stomach tightened as you clenched around him.

“Cum, slut.” With his words your hands gripped onto the pillows and with almost a scream-like moan you came so hard you saw stars, but even with your tight pussy clamping around him so hard his thrusts didn’t slow down.

He once again grabbed your body, now picking it up and making you sit on his lap, your back against his chest as he bounced you up and down. You were so fucked out, tears streaming down your cheeks, your tongue out as spit leaked from the corners of your mouth.

“Look at you, so greedy for my cock.” He smirked, pinching your nipple.

“Ryooo— I can’t-” he slapped your ass once again, making you let out a cry, feeling another orgasm coming soon.

“Close already?” He scoffed “Pathetic” you squirmed as his hand went to your clit. One hand on your throat, second on your boobs, third wrapped around your waist making you bounce and fourth on your clit.

“Haa- n-nono-“ you cried as the next orgasm hit you, squirting all around his cock and hand. Leaving you a panting and overstimulated mess.

“What a messy pussy…” he groaned as he slammed you down, cock buried so deep there was a bulge on your stomach as he filled you with his load.

You were sure you would fall down on the bed if he wasn’t holding you up. He pulled his cock out just to fill you again with his second one.

“Did you think we were done, brat?”

[sugurizz]

𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐬, 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐬, 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐬 ✧ Feat. JJK MEN

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ── Jjk Men in their -real- Daddy era. (Am I secretly having a baby fever LMAOO)

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ── fluffy stuff, pure wholesomeness and affectionate dads.

𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢

It's safe to say that sometimes you're raising two babies - only one of them is a big buff pouty one.

Daddy Toji sneaks to the kitchen in the middle of the night, leaving you both sleeping in your shared bedroom and then slowly closes the door. He promised himself he'd only take one *unnoticeable* spoon of your newborn's baby formula but ends up stuffing his face with the forbidden powder in the heat of the moment. He tries his best to hide his tracks by shoving the tin somewhere far in the cupboard.

He *oddly* always makes sure to be the one preparing his baby's bottle the next day - 'Oh darling, don'tcha move a muscle...I'll be right back with our baby's breakfast!'

You smile and raise a brow, already suspecting something. Daddy Toji is not much of a morning person. much less when it comes to baby chores...

𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

Gojo is always there whenever you change your baby's diaper. He keeps laughing and giggling like a 6 year old, curiously learning from his baby momma how to take care of his little child. His sky blue eyes are staring at your skilled hands, handling your precious little one with infinte care. He keeps smiling in awe, chuckling every time your baby farts and making the funniest faces just to make them giggle.

He takes a million pictures of his baby every day; we're talking his whole camera roll is just his baby's face, cutesy hands, tiny feet, smiling, eating, sleeping on daddy's chest, drooling on his shoulder...the list never ends.

His baby looks so smol when he holds it in his huge hands. He has to bend all the way down just so he could pick them up cause obviously my dude is the tallest man ever.

𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢

He'd take full care of your newborn just to see you rest and relax. He told you to teach him everything he needs to know so that he'd be perfectly fit for his new -and best ever- occupation; your baby father. He's got however only one pet peeve; getting his little one to burp after feeding them.

The reason? He was doing it once, holding the baby while gently patting its back...until he suddenly felt a warm liquid slithering down his shirt - the expensive one you dearly gifted him on your wedding anniversary- and to his surprise it was none other than his little one's vomit dripping down his shoulder...

Now he makes sure you hold a napkin behind him whenever he does it.

𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨

He's by far the chillest Daddy EVER. Carries his little one whenever he goes. Gets super jealous when your baby starts calling for you, or wants you to hold them instead of him. He's determined to make them say 'daddy' first, but deep down knows it'd melt his heart when he sees the little version of him utter mommy's name for the first time.

Staying awake at night putting his baby to sleep just so you can get your full nightly rest is something he'd never miss out on. He hates seeing you tired or sleepy and puts both of your needs before anything else.

Daddy Geto is always calm and smiley, no matter how much mess his baby makes or how long it'd take for him to clean it up - sometimes makes you seriously wonder how he manages to be so damn chill all the time.

𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚

For a husband twice your size with four arms and eyes he sure should take most care of your little offspring - He does tbf - His baby is always laying somewhere on his body or at least near him; sleeping against his chest, nibbling on his thumb, drooling on the side of his shoulder or sitting on his huge lap.

He's got a 6th sense whenever it comes to his baby being hungry, thirsty, sleepy or needing anything at all. Instantly knows the reason why his little one is crying and most of the time is very quick to make them happy again.

Absolutely hates poopie smell and calls them a brat whenever he senses their diaper getting heavier. 'Aggh you little runt!' You can't help laughing at him getting overwhelmed with such a tiny thing and start teasing him over it.

𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐘𝐮𝐮𝐭𝐚

There's nothing that Yuuta loves more than children. He has always wanted to have kids and couldn't wait to create his very first and own one with you. He's in LOVE with seeing you taking care of them; almost admiring every move and every word you say. He smiles like an idiot whenever he sees you holding your baby, breastfeeding them, playing with them or even laying next to them.

His favorite game is to hide somewhere in the house and let his little one look for him. He does it so suddenly and quickly, leaving them puzzled with big round eyes - comes out of his hideaway when they start sobbing and laughs at their little red nose and pouty cheeks.

'Aww why is my little cupcake cryiiing?...Daddy's right here!'

[illusioninfnty]

day 15 ; keeping quiet

↠ billy loomis x reader x stu macher

fandom: scream word count: 3.9k warnings: nsfw 18+, gf!billy and stu, DUBCON, semi-public sex, homoerotic undertones, mentions of gore, cheating, degradation, dirty talk, thigh fucking, double penetration, knife play if you squint, gagging, unprotected sex, creampies, cumplay, cum eating, fingering, my stu bias definitely shows sorry guys

kinktober m.list || read on ao3

You weren’t really much of a party person, and all of your friends were aware of that. It was why none of them gave much resistance to the idea of you slipping away.

Stu’s house was insanely crowded, more than his usual parties. It was obviously because of the recent killing spree by the mysterious masked killer who had yet to be caught. Your general anxiety in loud spaces mixed with that of the unknown killer running around had you even more paranoid.

“Be careful!” Sidney calls out and Tatum waves as you make your way up the staircase. You send a small smile back as you weave your way through drunk teenagers stumbling all around, looking for more drinks.

You’ve been in Stu’s house plenty of times, having been friends with him for years at this point. You make a beeline straight for his bedroom, hoping that no one was in there hooking up so you could have a quiet place to decompress. 

You knock loudly on his door, pressing your ear against it as the loud music and teens make it hard to hear inside. There’s no answer to your knowledge, and you slowly peek your head in.

No one is in the room, and you breathe a sigh of relief. You shut the door behind you and plop down on Stu’s bed, laying yourself out in a heap of exhaustion.

A bang from somewhere inside the room startles you, making you jump up from your seat. You notice that Stu’s closet door is slightly ajar, and figure that something inside fell down. You make your way over, the closet creaking as you open it.

A gasp leaves your lips and you step back after seeing what it was that fell.

It was one of the ghostface masks. 

You slowly back away, eyes wide in disbelief with what you were seeing. No. It wasn’t possible, right? Stu couldn’t have been the killer; it made no sense. You bend down and cautiously pick up the mask.

It looks like your average store-bought cheap costume accessory. You inspect it closer, but bring a hand up to your mouth and almost drop the mask when you see what’s stained on it.

Small flecks of blood, all spattered across the edges.

The sound of the door creaking has you throwing the mask back into the closet and slamming the door, chest heaving as you pretend as though you weren’t searching through it.

In walks Stu, his trademark grin spread wide across his face. 

“Now what are you doing in here?” he teases suggestively and wiggles his eyebrows. He closes the door and leans against it.

But clearly you’re not very good at hiding your emotions, because the smile instantly drops from Stu’s face. “Have you been…snooping in my things?”

You bite your lip and can feel your heart drop in your chest. “What? No! I just came in here to rest.” Your voice sounds incredibly shaking and you know there’s no way he’s buying it.

Stu’s eyes narrow, and he stalks closer to you. You back away in return, but his long strides make it difficult to put distance between the two of you. “I think you’re lying to me.”

He utters out your name in a warning tone. At this point, you know, he knows you know, and you know he knows you know that he’s the Ghostface killer. You make a feeble attempt to duck past Stu and make a run for it, but he grabs your arm and pulls you against his chest, completely restraining you.

You try your best at escaping. You pound on his chest, wiggle in his grip, and even try biting him. That fails miserably and Stu slaps his large palm against your mouth, preventing you from screaming for help.

He drags you over to the bed, and you start to kick your heels against his legs. You aren’t sure what he’s capable of anymore. Is this the moment you die? Is Stu going to kill you? You let out a choked sob underneath his palm, clawing at his hand but to no avail.

You push back against him with all of the force of your body, yet Stu remains solid. “Be quiet,” he mutters in your ear. 

And then you feel it. On your backside, you can feel Stu getting hard. You whimper in fear, and your body goes limp. But he clearly notices that you could feel it, and he chuckles darkly.

“Got me excited with all that struggling, babe.” He shamelessly rubs himself against you, his erection fully hard beneath his pants now.

Despite the terror that you feel in that moment, you couldn’t help but moan silently.

You would be lying if you said you never thought of hooking up with your friend. Stu was hot, he was funny, and if Tatum was a reliable source, he also had a huge dick.

If fucking Stu could save you from death, you would gladly let him use you however he wished.

You quickly concoct a plan in your head—a lame one, but a plan—to seduce Stu in an attempt to hopefully convince him not to kill you afterwards.

Before you can even attempt to put your plan into action, the bedroom door creaks open. “Shit,” you hear Stu mutter under his breath. Both you and him turn together, and in walks Billy, sauntering as he usually does.

He pauses and raises an eyebrow as he surveys the position you and Stu are in.

“Did I interrupt something?” Billy smirks, his eyes going dark. You look up through your eyelashes at Stu, who presses you closer to him, as if warning you not to signal for help. He shakes his head at Billy.

“She knows, man.”

Your body goes completely rigid in Stu’s grip. A chill runs down your spine.

Billy was involved in this Ghostface shit too? Well, that actually surprised you less than Stu. Billy was kind of a horror junkie in secret, even rivaling Randy, and he always had this strange look in his eye whenever he thought no one was looking.

His eyes narrow and his jaw clenches. “Oh?” 

The tone in his voice is sinister, much different than what you’ve heard from him before.

He strides over, pulling out a knife from his pocket and holding it out towards you.

You shriek, but it comes out all muffled. You try to tilt your head away from where Billy points the knife to your chin, but Stu keeps his hand solid, forcing your head forward.

He clicks his tongue at you, teasing you for your failed attempts to escape.

“I really didn’t want to kill you now, sweetheart, but I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

Tears gather in your eyes, threatening to fall. You still helplessly struggle against Stu’s grip, choking back sobs. You so desperately want Stu to release his hand, want to beg the two of them to keep you alive. You’re two seconds away from sounding like you belong in a bad porno that the boys rent from the video store where the woman says please! I’ll do anything!

But you don’t need to do any of that. Because before Billy starts slicing and dicing and stabbing at you, he backs away and looks Stu up and down. He then barks out a laugh.

“What, did chasing her around get you all stiff?”

Stu grins cheekily and grinds his erection up against your butt. You let out a surprised moan under his palm, grabbing onto his forearm. “You know I’ve always wanted to fuck her, man.”

Billy eyes shift between you and Stu, before pausing on you. A smirk slowly grows across his features until it morphs into a toothy grin. You can see the way his cock begins to twitch in his jeans and your heart sinks into your stomach.

“I’m not going to let you fuck her alone tonight.”

As if Stu was waiting this whole time for Billy’s approval, the hand that was restricting your mouth moves off and down to his jeans. Before you can even think about opening your mouth, Billy brings the knife back up your face, right under your chin forcing you to keep your mouth closed and head tilted up to meet his eyes.

“If you say a word I’ll cut your throat open and stick my cock in it.” He imitates the motion of slicing the knife across your throat. 

You swallow harshly and can’t control the way you tremble under Stu’s hold. But the depraved part of you has your core throbbing, at the carnal lust that fills his eyes, so desperately wanting them both to get to fucking you sooner rather than later. 

Scoffing in his face, you try your best to put up a calm front. “Are you guys all bark and no bite? All I hear is talking but no action.”

“Oh you’ll be getting action soon, baby.” You can feel Stu’s erect cock rubbing against your backside and the way that his arousal stains your shirt. His hand holds it at the base as he guides it between your legs, slowly fucking you between your thighs. You look down to see the bulging red tip of his cock leaking beads of precum as it penetrates the plush skin of your legs with every thrust.

Billy takes his knife and slices your skirt right down the middle, the two pieces falling to shreds at your feet.

“Yeah, there it is!” Stu yells as his long fingers poke and prod at your pussy through your underwear until it soaks the fabric through. “All nice and wet for us now.”

He moves the material to the side of your puffy lips and without so much as a warning sticks his cock right inside.

“Oh fuck,” you moan out as quietly as you can with the intense pleasure. It slides in easily with how wet you’ve gotten over the past couple of minutes. You arch your back into Stu as his long cock bullies its way inside of you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

Stu begins thrusting immediately, the sounds of your skin slapping together being the loudest thing in the room.

“Such a dirty little slut,” Stu’s voice teases, laughter evident in his tone. His arm around your waist holds you up as he pounds into you at lightning speed, bouncing you up and down his cock. Your feet lift off the ground ever-so-slightly as he pulls you up. “But I guess I’m kind of a slut to. Always wanted to fuck you like this.”

Through your lust-filled haze, you can see Billy stroking himself through his boxers, jeans already unzipped and pulled down. He stares at both you and Stu and where the two of you connect. 

“You gonna join man?” Stu lifts you up under your thighs. The action lifts your feet up in the air and exposes your pussy directly in Billy’s line of view. Stu pulls his cock out enough so just the head remains inside, and starts fingering around your lips.

You gasp at the sensation, your arms gripping his own and your walls clenching down desperately onto him. Stu’s fingers make a v shape and pull your lips open wide. “There’s plenty of room for you in here.” 

“N-no!” You sob out, clawing at Stu and kicking your legs. The implication is not subtle at all, and the fear has you clenching even tighter onto him. There was no way that you could fit both of them in your pussy. Stu’s cock is already thick and fills you completely; you don’t think you could take another one without breaking.

Billy continues to palm himself above his underwear, the head of his cock poking out from the elastic band. “Fuck yeah, now your speaking my language!”

“No! Billy!” You shake your head wildly, tears threatening to fall from your swollen eyes. “Stop! It won’t fit!”

He rolls his eyes and takes his hard cock out of his boxers, pumping it with a few solid strokes. “Stop complaining.” 

“He’ll make it fit,” Stu giggles from behind you.

A strangled sound leaves your lips, a mix between a choke and a sob. You’re powerless in Stu’s hold as he moves your limbs every which way he pleases. He never lets up in his thrusts, his stamina completely insatiable, and it doesn’t feel like he’s stopping any time soon.

You have no choice but to lay helpless as Billy guides his cock into your wet hole, pushing against Stu’s. The stretch from the two of their massive lengths is painful, and you bite the outside of your hand as an attempt to soften your cries.

“Fuck,” Billy moans, slotting himself fully inside of you. His eyes squeeze shut and his head is thrown back in pleasure. Your hands press against his chest to stabilize yourself. 

Your eyes roll back as you start moaning audibly, his cock stuffing you full alongside Stu’s. 

“None of that.” Billy slaps a hand over your mouth and digs his fingers into your cheek. “If any one of those sleazebags outside hears those moans I’ll have to kill them and fuck you over their dead body.”

His voice is deep, gravely, and completely serious—you believe him in his entirety. You nod rapidly under his hold. You don’t want the death of anyone to be on your hands, no matter how annoying they are.

“Good. Now stay quiet.”

Billy and Stu take turns fucking themselves up into you. They give you any chance for a break, when one pulls their length almost completely out, the other shoves it in. They take turns pounding themselves into you. Your walls clench hard around them, being stretched to the brim. It takes all your power not to cry out from the pain and pleasure, but the fear from Billy’s unpredictably overpowers all other emotions. 

Billy seems to be caught up in the haze of his own arousal, fingers digging in the skin of your hips as he thrusts his cock in and out of you rhythmically. He groans. “Forgot what it’s like to fuck a tight, wet hole. Sidney still hasn’t put out yet.”

Your body instantly freezes at Billy’s words. In the midst of all the chaos that involved finding out that two of your friends were active serial killers, both of them have been wanting to fuck you, and both of them actually proceeding to fuck you, you were ashamed to admit that you completely forgot about your the rest of your friends downstairs. Sidney and Tatum, two of your closest friends, were partying just below you and were blissfully unaware that you were in fact not resting from the partying, but instead getting your hole absolutely destroyed by their boyfriends just a couple hundred feet away.

The reality of your situation comes back to you and the dread starts to sink in. Instinctively, you begin thrashing your body all around, causing as much commotion as you can. Your nails end up scratching Stu on his arm. “Ow!” he whines out, but it’s a cross between a whimper and a turned on moan. He bites your neck in retaliation. “I like ‘em feisty, you know. Really gets my dick goin’.”

Billy, on the other hand, doesn’t take your failed act of defiance so lightly. His hand reaches up and squeezes your cheeks as he pulls your face close to him, not letting up with the pistoning of his hips.

“Not. A. Word.” Every syllable is spoken individually, heavily gritted out through clenched teeth. At that moment, an array of muffled voices is heard right outside the bedroom door. Billy and you turn to the source of the noise at the same time. Billy turns back to you first. “You know what happens if they walk in,” he trails off darkly, and out of the corner of your eye you can see the glint of his knife as it rests on the side table, within an arm's reach from him. If he wanted to, he could easily slip himself out of you and kill the unsuspecting partygoers within mere seconds.

He buries himself back inside of you as you say that, the two of their cocks fighting for their spots inside of your restrictive walls. Billy and Stu moan in unison at the feeling, both of you gripping onto them and the way they feel pressed up against each other.

As hopeless as your situation may seem in the end, you try to make due with what you have and not let the guilt consume you. There’s nothing you can do about it now unless you want multiple people to wind up dead. It’s fairly easy to erase your mind of anything other than the two guys currently surrounding you, whose relentless thrusts make your vision go white and limbs go numb.

Stu attaches himself onto your neck, no doubt leaving a trail of hickeys that’ll last for days. You lean your head back into him, giving him more access to the area. His long tongue licks all around the area, sending shivers down your spine.

His mouth eventually makes its way up to your own and Stu covers it, kissing you with great fervor. His tongue slides into your mouth, swirling it around with your own tongue. The kiss is sloppy and uncoordinated, but it feels perfectly like him. It’s intimate as he massages your tongue and brings his hand up to cup your jaw. In that single moment, you can pretend like your new revelation didn’t exist and that this is just a sensual moment between you and your friend, who’s kissing you like his life depends on it.

But that’s not the case, as Billy brings you back to reality once again. He spanks your ass which has you gasping into Stu’s mouth and your eyes opening wide.

Spit dribbles out the side of your mouth as Stu finally lets up, moaning into your jaw. He gives your neck a big kiss before sucking another hickey into it. “I can be romantic sometimes,” he whispers teasingly into your ear, causing you to shiver.

Billy and Stu pound into you, even harder than before if possible, their hips snapping up against your body.

You know that your orgasm is fast approaching, the various simulations making you feel desperate for a release.

“Please, please, please, please,” your voice is hoarse as you whisper out in a breathy tone to keep as quiet as possible.

“Yeah? You want our cum inside of you?” Billy coaxes you, but you can tell that he’s just as close to reaching his peak as you are given the uneven rhythm of his ruts, pushing slightly against the pattern he had set with Stu.

You nod your head as much as you can, your vision going blurry with the speed you move it. You can feel Billy’s cock throb furiously in you and it's enough to make you reach your own orgasm before him, clapping a hand over your mouth as to not alert your presence to anyone outside.

Billy’s orgasm follows your own soon after, with a strangled moan leaving his lips as his hot cum releases all inside you. The mix of your two juices allows for easier movement within your walls, and after he’s done climaxing Billy slides out of you with ease.

But Stu is nowhere near stopping.

With the result of your’s and Billy’s releases aiding him, Stu ruts himself even further into you. He manhandles you so that instead of your previous position of being twisted in the air as Stu stands behind you, he throws you down on top of the bed and climbs on top of you, humping into you from behind with a newfound vigor.

“Finally get you to myself for a bit,” Stu grits out of his teeth as his hips piston at an immeasurable speed.

You can’t speak at this point, completely cockdrunk from the brunt of the thrusts you’re taking. Stu’s broad body completely engulfs your form as he pounds you into the bedsheets. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, and your tongue lolls out of your mouth, only low whimpers and droll being produced from it.

You can hear the squelching of your pussy, the result of Billy’s cum and your juices, as Stu pounds his cock as far as it reaches. You can feel the release escape the sides of your pussy lips with the brunt of Stu’s thrusts and you can’t help but whine softly as some of the warmth and fullness from the cum leaves your body.

Stu’s hand runs through your hair until he grabs it at the base. He pushes your head down completely into the bed, using much more pressure than what was needed. The force of it causes your ass to arch further into him as he presses his front fully against your back, curving his form as if morphing to the shape of your hunched and fucked out form.

“Now that’s a nice view,” he groans out, one hand at the root of your hair and the other pawing at your ass.

Animalistic grunts leave Stu’s mouth and you can feel as he reaches the cusp of his orgasm. Curses leave his lips as he finally cums, pushing himself inside you as deep as he can and hitting parts never reached before. You can feel the jets of his hot release inside of you as it comes out in huge, thick spurts.

When Stu finally leaves your walls, the mix of all three of your orgasms comes flowing out, making you moan at the loss of the fullness from all three of you.

“C’mon now, push it all outta you,” Billy’s voice calls out from across the room, speaking up from his previous silent observer role as he recovered from his own peak.

You obey, squeezing as much as you can with your weak body. You can feel globs of cum escape your entrance, cooling as it runs down your thighs and onto the sheets below you.

You flinch as you feel Stu’s fingers scoop some out of you, and the smacking of his lips indicates he tasted it. You moan, only able to picture what the scene looks like.

“Oh? You want some?” Stu’s fingers hastily appear in front of you. The fingers from his other hand pull your mouth open and he shoves the cum covered ones inside, making you gag instantly. He rams them in and out of your mouth, barely giving you any time to properly suck on the cum. Flecks of the fluid fly out of your mouth along with your own saliva. Tears fall without a warning, your gag reflex working overtime.

Stu’s fingers fuck your mouth until all of the cum is virtually gone from them. When he finally pulls them out, your body completely collapses. It trembles furiously from all the overstimulation, unable to hold itself up.

Stu gives you a big wet kiss on your cheek and slaps his now-limp cock onto your bare ass. You can only whimper in response, your body too heavy to move any part of it right now. Your vision is blurry, but through it you manage to make out Billy, with his sweaty complexion and rumpled clothes back on his body, talking down to you.

“You stay put until we can get everyone to piss off. We’ll be back for round two.”

[sexlapis]

[◉°] … NANAMI KENTO & Y/N BEING A COUPLE FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT… 429k views

⁺ 🧃　 ♡ ₊﹒ ⌣

꩜: actor!nanami x actress!reader

⤷ a short compilation of y/n & nanami moments!

sfw, fluff, accidental kisses, ooc nanami kinda

. art credits to @/osusiudon on twitter

masterlists

*

౨ৎ first clip

“whereee is nanamiiii?” you whine, filming yourself as you walk around the set, trying to find your favourite cast member. you walk through a door. “nanamiii-oh there he is..”

you look surprised and then you tell the camera, “shhhh..nanami is asleep..”

you tiptoe towards where he lays passed out on a couch with his costume goggles right beside him. you turn the camera around to face nanami, his mouth agape as little snores passed through.

“awwww.. he looks so cute..”

you put the camera close to his face, making nanami look funny. “haha..i’m so keeping this-”

nanami snorts suddenly and shifts in a rapid movement, shocking you and making you drop your phone on his poor face.

“ahh!” you cry. fumbling ensues before you get your camera upright again, pointing it at a now awake, disappointed looking nanami, sitting up on the couch as he stares at you blankly. his hair is messy, tie askew and his eyes tired.

“sorry nanami…did i wake you??”

“…”

“…”

nanami sighs and rubs his eyes. “i don’t know _____. did you barge in here, record me and drop your phone on my face?”

“…oops?”

nanami stares at you some more and then you pat his head in apology.

“sorry, nanamin…”

he sighs again. “why are you like this…”

౨ৎ second clip

the paparazzi secretly filmed you and nanami exiting a store (which they had followed you both to). now of course, fans criticised said paparazzi, but after seeing the video themselves…they couldn’t be all that sad about it.

you and nanami walk out of the automatic doors, arms linked and nanami carries the shopping bag.

you’re eating your little treat, strolling with nanami to the sidewalk when he points to your shoes, noticing that your laces are undone.

he speaks and you just shrug, continuing to eat, uncaring of your unlaced shoes that are a hazard.

nanami has you hold the grocery bag temporarily and then kneels down and ties your laces securely, all the while you chew on your food and smile down at him.

he stands up and takes the bag from you to carry once more. you inaudibly talk before linking arms with him again and resting your head on his shoulder while you both walk away.

౨ৎ third clip

the director yells cut and you are immediately running towards nanami and throwing your arms around his shirtless waist, careful to avoid the very intricate, realistic body paint covering half of his body.

“nanami! please don’t dieeeee!” you cry, looking up at him, “who’s going to be my emotional support actor?”

nanami huffs and pats your back, “_____…i won’t disappear..i’ll still be on the set…”

“it’s not the same!” you grumble into his chest. “it’s like you died for real!”

“no it’s not. i’ll visit everyday until this series ends.”

“really?” you look up at him, eyes glossy, “you better not be lying. promise?”

“yes, i promise.” he sighs fondly.

“okay..”

still hugging him, you turn to look at the camera and blatantly check out his shredded torso and thick, strong arms. nanami just stands there, confused.

you rest your head on one of his pecs, looking at the camera and smiling. “i get to do this everyday, you know.”

nanami scoffs and shakes his head at you. you are unbelievable.

౨ৎ fourth clip

you and the a few members of the cast of jujutsu kaisen had agreed to play a game of “silent library”for charity and nanami had agreed to play too, which shocked both the cast and the fans considering nanami rarely participated in games like this.

nanami has struck luck so far but it runs out on the sixth round.

the cards are handed out and suspense rises when you all quickly flip them over.

you groan out loud before slapping a hand over your mouth when you see that you’ve received the death card.

looking around, you notice that nanami and gojo also share the same card, and you point at them confused, while the members who are safe sigh in relief and thank god.

nanami closes his eyes and gojo slumps in his chair dramatically, making a weak noise in his mouth. you snort. you’re quickly hushed.

the name of the game is presented, “suck and blow”, and poorly stifled chuckles ring around the room. you rub your eyes, already dreading what’s about to come.

gojo eyes you, making a come hither motion with his long finger and swear at him silently. nanami is silent and looks between the two of you blankly.

the aim of the game? all three players must pass plastic card between them with only their lips.

your head falls onto the table, gojo is grinning and nanami is, as always, sighing.

the three of you sit on stools, with yourself insisting on being in the middle.

“i could’ve sworn i’ve had a dream just like this…” gojo whispers and nanami is leaning all the way around to smack the back of his head. gojo gasps and utahime scolds at him to shut his mouth.

the plastic card is given to gojo and the timer begins. he sucks it to his lips, cheeks hollow and he looked very stupid. gojo grabs your head and presses the card to your lips, making it seem like you are both kissing. you grunt and begin smacking the side of his face. suppressed laughter can be heard around you as you forcefully pull away from gojo.

you purse your lips, holding the plastic card on them as best as you can and turning to face nanami. he leans in, ready to get this over with.

it happened so fast.

nanami’s face is close to yours as you move to transfer the plastic card to his lips..and then the card falls.

it falls and you’re kissing nanami for half a second.

you gasp and pull back, embarrassed and covering your face.

you hear a squeal, a loud gasp and shocked laughter as you drown in shame. nanami sits there, fiddling, not knowing what to do with his hands and his face is clearly pink.

gojo teases you both to no end and the timer is already up.

it’s safe to say you all lost that round.

౨ৎ fifth clip

nanami is forced to go on a talk show (as he claims his manager made him do it ).

his responses are perfect and polite - nanami clearly has some sort of media training or an upper class background of some sort. it’s like nothing could catch him off guard whatsoever.

nanami is talking and then, the host interrupts. “are you and _____ dating?”

the audience chuckles and nanami is caught off guard. “wh-what?” nanami breathes out, a blush rising from his neck to his cheeks. “what?”

“are you and _____ dating?”

“no…” nanami clears his throat, gulping, “no of course not…”

“what do you mean “of course not?” do you not like _____?”

“what? of course i like-” nanami cuts himself off with a deep sigh and the crowd laughs at his embarrassment and fluster. “_____…_____ is a lovely woman, she’s a respected colleague, a valued friend, she’s-”

“well since you like her so much, let’s bring her out!” the host flings his arm out in the direction of the entrance stairway, “give a warm welcome to _____!”

“?”

the crowd is screaming as you walk in, waving at them with a warm smile on your face and sit next to nanami.

nanami looks at you, face red. “i-”

“don’t let him stop you.” you say, referring to the host’s interruption and the cheers erupting from the sea of people. “keep talking about me!”

nanami sighs. “shit…”

౨ৎ sixth clip

you’re being interviewed on the red carpet by a boisterous, joyful middle aged lady who asks you many questions, one of them being, “fuck, marry, kill”.

“okay fuck, marry, kill with getou suguru, nanami kento and gojo sa-”

“easy,” you cut in, not even hearing the rest of the question, “fuck getou, marry nanami and kill gojo. easiest question i’ve had so far!”

on the other end of the carpet, nanami is being asked the same questions except with actresses, one of them being you.

“fuck marry kill - utahime iori, _____ or shoko ieiri?!”

“marry _____, fuck utahime and kill shoko. goodnight.” he abruptly walks away, not even waiting for the interviewer to respond and leaves them flabbergasted.

*

a/n: feel like i rambled a lot in this one..oh well. also i’m not accepting requests for actor!nanami right now🤗🩷

[luna0713hunter]

"oh my gosh! you're unbelievable!i cant believe you actually did that-"

Sukuna follows you lazily as you stomp inside your shared apartment;high heels clicking angrily on the titled floor. He flicks the lights on and rolls his eyes when you throw your purse on the couch and turn toward him with your hands resting on your hips.

"what?"

"what?!" You ask, bewildered, "you have the tendency to ask what?!"

You throw your hands up in the air when he childishly crosses his arms around his chest and raises his brow at you.

"you fucking broke that guy's nose,Ryu!!!"

"so what,huh?" He says,voice deep and bored;it makes your eye twitch, "he was flirting with you."

"he was not!"

"oh,yes he was baby," and suddenly,his voice takes an angry turn, "did you seriously not realize how he was looking at you when i was right there?"

"I should've broken his fucking neck instead."

And you take a minute to calm down;after all, knowing your husband,he would take all night just to prove you he was right. So you just sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose.

"just..." You wave your hand, suddenly feeling exhausted, "let's stop. We both know nothing good will come from us arguing."

And Sukuna, without another word,walks past you to vanish inside the kitchen. You sigh again and open the bathroom door; turning on the water and staring at your weary form in the mirror.

Just as you're wondering how the fucking you're going to wipe your make up,the door opens and your husband walks in. He rests a glass of water by the sink and gestures to it by his chin.

"drink it. You'll get a headache later if you dont."

And silently,you comply while watching him rummage throw the cabinets and pulling out your makeup wipes. You tilt your head when he instructions you to,and as he gently starts cleaning your eyes,you swallow thickly. Which doesn't go unnoticed by your husband

"what is it now?"

You only shrug,and his face softens at you defeated expression . So he just cleans your face,and when you're done,he pulls you to his chest and rests his chin on top of your head

"sorry i got so angry earlier," you mumble against his chest and sigh.

There's a pause where Sukuna breaks it with a grunt.

"and I'm.." he huffs, "not sorry for punching that guy."

You giggle sleepily and nuzzle in his arms

"figures."

"i will punch more guys if they check you out too."

"fine fine," you huff and wrap your own arms around his neck, "can we go to sleep now?"

And without replying, Sukuna is swooping you up in his arms;and goes to your bedroom. As he lays down by your side,you immediately nuzzle close to his chest and let out a content sigh

"so you've forgiven me now?"

And you smile sleepily without opening your eyes.

"I'll decide when you make me breakfast tomorrow."