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uravichii · 1 month

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"best friends who kiss?"

character/s: bakugo katsuki

summary: recently, your best friend has been kissing you at random times. you have no idea why because he refuses to talk about it. either way, you're not about to let this to ruin your precious friendship.

genre & trope: fluff, best friends to lovers, angry confessions, reader is terrified of love but bakugo wants them so bad 😁, tw kind of ooc bakugo

a/n: i've been watching a lot of pride & prejudice and bridgerton scenes n i'm now obsessed angry confessions 🤩 + this is heavily inspired by that scene in little women :) ALSO i haven't posted in a year 😟 so pls be nice ik my writing's rusty in this :'D

the first time bakugou katsuki kissed you, he pretended he never did.

"what... " you brush your fingers against your bottom lip, your whole face hot. "what the hell was that for?"

"what?" bakugo shrugs, feigning innocence as he takes a swig of his soda.

you try and trace back the events that could have led to the kiss.

you said something along the lines of: "i wish i had a boyfriend. i could definitely pull a cute guy off the street."

then you heard him scoff and say: "no man's sane enough to put up with your insufferable ass." ーor something more insulting than that.

you can't remember what you said in response, and you rack your brain to figure out what prompted him to grab your face and kiss you. it's impossible when all you can think about is the unexpected supple feel of his lips, its faint ghost still lingering on yours.

"that kiss, katsuki! you violated my mouth!"

"dunno what you're talking about. you hit your head or something?"

you blink and second-guess yourself for a second.

"okay, no. you're not gonna gaslight your way out of this." you swat his arm, earning an irked glare from him. "why the hell did you kiss me?"

"you're imagining things, idiot. this stupid game's givin' ya some serious brain damage for sure."

he stands up and swings his bag over his shoulder.

"where are you going? we're not done yetー!"

and he's out of the door.

was he drunk off his soda? maybe he kissed you to mess with your head. he's not that cruel though, you think. maybe he couldn't think of any other way to shut you upー that was something he always struggled with after all.

at least the second time bakugo katsuki kissed you, he was kind enough to warn you.

after enduring the most awkward hour-long study session with him, you decide to put an end to your agony by wrapping it up. you start gathering your things when he stops you with a calloused hand on your wrist.

"what?" you turn to him, your cheeks already heating up from his touch.

there are no thoughts you could read behind those vermillion eyes, and all of a sudden, you don't know your best friend very well anymore.

he walks some tentative steps closer to you until the back of your knees hit the table. he cradles your jaw with such delicacy you didn't even know he was capable of. he slips past your awaiting lips and presses his nose on the side of your head, his warm breath kissing your flushed skin.

"punch me in the face and scram if you don't want this, got it?"

you gulp and forget to answer if not for the gentle squeeze on your wrist. "y/n, you got it?"

"s-sure."

when you two kiss, it's different from last time. it's unhurried, curious, and so intoxicating. the kiss speaks: 'i want you. i want you. i want you' but whose thoughts are these?

he groans into your lips as if to urge you to keep up with the sheer hungriness that has consumed him. you try your best to do so as he deepens the kiss with a palm on the back of your head and practically drinks you in. he doesn't pull away until he hears the tiny whine that escapes you.

"shit, sorry." he mutters, avoiding your stunned gaze.

"t's okay."

"did i hurt you?" the quiet lilt of his voice surprises you.

"no, no. i'm okay, but why'd you kiー"

"bye." he blurts out as he turns to the door and leaves, as if he didn't just invaded your mouth and permanently tainted the years of friendship you two have had. you click your tongue as the heat subsides in your cheeks.

"son of a bitch."

the third time bakugo katsuki kissed you, you let him, and he didn't stop.

you had barely escaped death when you lost your footing while sparring with todoroki. naturally, bakugo yelled the poor guy's ear off and would have murdered him if eraserhead hadn't interfered at the last second.

now, you find yourself heaving in your bed. you don't know whether your hastened pulse is from the adrenaline rush or from the fact that bakugo is all over you right now.

he's planting feather-light kisses all over youー your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, your eyelids, your hands, and your wrist, as panicked murmurs spill out of him in between kisses. 'you scared the hell out of me. you have no idea, fuck. are you okay? are you really okay? tell me you're okay, y/n.'

"i'm okayー" you barely manage to gasp before he dips his lips into yours, desperate and frantic. tremulous hands find solace in your hips as he holds you, gentle enough not to mar your injuries but snug enough to assure his restless heart that you are safe.

your head feels hazy. your limbs ache and lie motionless, and though your lips could barely move to reciprocate his kisses as much as you wanted to, bakugo didn't stop. you tried to ask him about it the next morning, but of course, he ignored you and walked away.

you don't know when he stopped kissing you that night. all you know is that there was a line that was crossed, and your friendship was never going to be the same again.

bakugo katsuki is going to kiss you again. your heart thrums incessantly. whether it's dread or anticipationー you don't know.

you think about the sensation of his lips that's become so familiar to you that you've learned to crave it. it shouldn't be familiar to you, and you sure as hell shouldn't want it. so you do what you think is necessary.

you kick him in the shin.

"motherfー!" sure enough, he's pissed. "what the hell is wrong with you?!"

"what the hell is wrong with you?!"

"i was going toー"

"no! you're not gonna kiss me again and walk away and pretend it never happened. you're messing with my head, katsuki! it's not funny!"

"wasn't trying to be funny!" he barks back.

"okay, so what exactly are you trying to do? what is this? i meanー" you stammer, struggling to find the words. "katsuki, what are we?"

he sighs and shifts his stance, his discomfort apparent. when the silence lingers on for too long, you speak.

"well, whatever it is that you want from me, we're going to stay friends. nothing more, nothing less. that's it." your breath hitches, and you don't know why you feel like crying as you speak. "... so i don't want your stinky mouth anywhere on me again."

silence weighs heavily between you. sometimes you wish you didn't know him too well, then the hurt he veils in his eyes wouldn't be so plain and vivid to you, and you would have walked away by now without an ounce of remorse.

"i like you, y/n." is all he could say when he finally speaks.

you shake your head. "no, you're just confused."

"i'm not confused. i like you."

"katsuki, you've been bitchless all your life, and i'm just the closest thing to a s/o. maybe go take a walk or something."

"i like you." he persists. "i've liked your stupid ass forー"

"stop saying that. you don't."

"i do, and you like me tooー"

"what?!" you laugh incredulously.

'who does this dumbass think he is?' is he right? surely, he's not. then what are you so afraid of in the first place? why have you been counting down the days until he kisses you again? why do you yearn for his touch as if it's something you own? why do you feel so infuriated and so tormented when he leaves the room after kissing you?

you do what is necessary again.

"you're delusional!" you yell at his face, a childish shrill that's awfully familiar to your childhood best friend.

"jesus christ." he inhales sharply in frustration. "you're a fucking pussy, y/n."

you clench your jaw and match his glare. anger surges in your chest and bleeds into your voice.

"i'm not the one who chickens out after kissing their best friend! you can't even acknowledge the fact that you kissed me because you'reー!"

"do you think i want to chicken out? why do you think i run away after kissing you?! if i stayed and confessed all this shit the first time, you would've refused to hear it like the damn coward you are!" he leans close to you, his voice lowering into a ragged snarl that quickens your pulse. "and you're just proving it right now, y/n. you're always going to shut this down and deny your feelings because you're a fucking pussy. you're terrified of relationships, and it's dumbest shit ever. pathetic, really."

you rear back from his words. if anything, you always thought it was katsuki who was afraid of love. now, you can't help but feel small and vulnerable underneath his searing gaze.

"it's not dumb..." you shuffle uncomfortably. "what, i'm supposed to ruin our friendship for a relationship that we're going to break off anyway?"

"we're not going to break it off."

"how do you know that?"

"because i'll be the best goddamn boyfriend in the world!"

"first of all, gross." you scoff. "second of all, it's never gonna work out! you're going to get sick of me in three days max."

"i've known you since we were brats, and i still want you."

"you literally said no man's sane enough to put up with my obnoxious ass."

he smirks. "i said 'insufferable ass'."

"katsuki!" you fight the urge to strangle him and punch that stupid smile off his face.

"wasn't even serious that time." he grimaces and reluctantly continues. "you know damn well you can pull any guy you want, and he'd be the luckiest bastard on earth."

if it were any other day, you'd grin at him and say 'i told you so,' but your lips remain unmoved, and your eyes stay dim. you're afraid you'll never go back to being the same katsuki and y/n again.

"this is pointless, katsuki. i mean, look! we're already fighting." you grouch and tell yourself you don't want this. "i still don't want us to happen so while this friendship is still salvable, let's agree to stay friends, and whatever sappy shit you feel for meー suck it up."

in one swift motion, he closes the distance between you, his face hovering dangerously over yours.

"suck it up?" he breathes, his face taut in frustration. "restraining myself from you is the hardest shit i've ever had to do. it takes everything in me not to kiss your stupid face!"

he shudders, weakly resting his forehead against yours as if this conversation alone has exhausted him. still, he goes on.

"and everytime i failedー everytime i kissed those lips, it was... a moment of weakness, but that's the fucking problemー you're just..." he buries his face into the crook of your neck, a desperate attempt to escape your wide-eyed gaze. "i'm weak for you, y/n. every second. and it drives me fucking insane that you keep running away from me."

he rises to meet your eyes again. the cadence of his voice changes into something weak and desperate, stripped of all the pride and anger he's ever known.

"i love youー fuck. i love you." he lets the words hang in the air, letting the words hear itself spoken because for once, you're not stopping him. "i love you, so please... let me."

after much thought and another agonizing minute of silence, you lean in to kiss bakugo katsuki.

he kisses back almost instantly and revels in the way you wrap your arms around his neck and bear your weight on him completely. he kisses back ardently, his pent-up desires and years of longing etched in the way he seeks your lips, kiss after kiss after kiss.

when you finally pull away, you're met with a devilish smirk, his begging eyes long gone. you wonder to yourself when you'll see those eyes again.

"took ya long enough." he kisses you again. he raises a brow at the way you're caging him in your arms. "jesus, no one's gonna snatch me from you."

"i'm making sure you don't run away again, dumbass."

"i won't." he says earnestly as he props his forehead against yours. "and you won't either. i'll make sure of that."

you nod your head with a giddy smile as he pecks your lips again.

"so..." you say as you exaggerate a pensive look, a cheeky grin spreading across your face. "we're best friends who occasionally kiss?"

he rolls his eyes. "you're impossible."

"recite that speech again, and i'll consider calling you my boyfriend."

"fuck off!"

TAGLIST [1/2] @uxavity @joy-the-reader @kiiraes @escapenightmare @afk-dreaminq @avocamich @theboredvee @wonderwrench @ur-local-simp @p-ol @x0xuglyh0tgrl2005xoxo @cosmonettica @melin-oe @mitzi127 @lilac-o @r2katsu @bakucumsackslut @idunnomynamesince2005 @astralwaifu @taurus852 @creepyproxies @maycat-19-142 @stella-fleurets @veenxys @devilgirlcrybabiey @drawingaddict @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @lexiv-web @angelshimaa @izukus-gf @christiansdior @homosexualjohnwayne @uwiuwi @hirugummies @cupidines @loveisningning (bold couldn't be tagged)

#bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x you #bakugo x you #bnha x reader #bnha x you #mha x reader #mha x you #bakugo katsuki drabbles #bakugo drabbles #bnha drabbles #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bakugo fluff #bakugo katsuki fluff #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons

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arien-rey · 7 months

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can i request for a miguel with an s/o who's having major baby fever for a daughter? you can make it smutty or fluffy!!

cw: breeding kink, light light choking, size kink

an: im sorry i literally went INSANE over this bc i know my man has a big big breeding kink!!! i made it realllly smut-heavy, hope thats ok with you! <3

wc: 1.2k

“Daddy! Mommy!” Gabriella exclaimed, her face lighting with pure joy. She quickly sprints to Miguel, backpack swinging wildly. Without a moment’s hesitation, Miguel drops to his knee next to you and eagerly awaits his daughter’s embrace.

With arms outstretched, Miguel effortlessly catches Gabriella in mid-air and holds her tightly against his chest. A warm smile spreads across your face at the heartwarming scene, your husband’s large hands enfolded around your daughter.

As Gabriella buries her face into Miguel’s strong shoulder and he grins. “missed you, mija. How was your day at school?”

Gabriella pulls away and turns to hold your hand before shyly, begins to rattle on about her day; all the new friends she made, her soccer games at recess, and a particularly impressive drawing she made with water color. “Thats amazing, honey,” you exclaim, and Miguel nods in agreement.

As you walk back to the car, you feel a strong surge of love in your chest as you watch the way Miguel interacts with Gabi so affectionately. The way he listens attentively to every word she says, and how she runs into his arms with a goofy grin spread on her lips. It was attractive to say the least, and it got you thinking…

══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══

“Miggy, I want another one.”

Miguel raised an eyebrow, a mixture of surprise and curiosity dancing across his face. He sets down his book to turn his attention to you fully. It was late at night, and the two of you were cuddling together on the couch after Gabriella was put to sleep.

“another baby, huh?”

“yeah, a cute baby girl. Just.. the way you handle Gabi is so…” Your voice trails off, unable to find the right words. he wraps his strong arm around you, smiling with playful satisfaction at your response and you, blushing shyly, bury your face into his chest.

“Please, Miggy,”

You whisper, and suddenly you feel his rough touch under your chin, gently tilting your head up to meet your eyes with his hazel ones, dim with a new desire.

“of course, nena. you want me to give you another baby girl? huh?”

you nod softly, shivering when you feel his other hand snake up your thigh, stopping on your inner thigh and gently messaging the flesh with his thumb.

“let me help you then,” he murmurs softly, drawing close to you, his lips meeting yours in a tender touch. With a gentle glide, his calloused hand caresses your chin, cradling your cheek, as he pulls you closer. As your lips meet his, you reciprocate without any hesitation, indulging in an affectionate, delicate kiss.

this tenderness didn’t last long though, the gentleness quickly transforming feverish and greedy, moans vibrating from both your chests and your bodies suddenly burning. When you both pull away, you feel his fingers slip under the straps of your tanktop and slide them off your shoulders. “Get this off,” he demands breathlessly, and you comply , stripping for him hastily.

you breathe, splayed out in front of your lover, face flushed as miguel sits up in between your legs with his intense gaze burning your skin as they trace your figure.

“you’re beautiful,” he breathes, and you whimper at his words, clit throbbing at the thought of being bred full and bearing another daughter to the man you love.

Miguel is quick to follow suit, pulling his tight shirt over his head to reveal the tan skin and solid muscle underneath. You bite your lip, eyes lidded as you watch him finish stripping. Miguel hastily takes off his sweatpants and boxers and lets his hard, leaking cock spring free from its confines.

He presses his hand against the plush of your inner thigh and spreads your legs, using his other hand to pump his cock with languid strokes.

You mewl feeling him drag the tip of his fat cock in between your folds, mushing it and teasing it against your clit sending pleasure coursing througch your body and making you throw your head back with a whimper.

he leans down and kisses you slowly, biting down on your lip gently. “feels good?” he asks breathlessly, and you nod, moaning at the feeling of his angry red tip against your swollen clit.

feverishly, he runs his length over your slick folds, grunting as you rocked your hips to meet his touch. After a few intense minutes, with desperate teasing and soft moans slipping from your glossy lips, you squeeze your eyes shut, feeling your orgasm building rapidly. suddenly, he pulls away, making you to whimper at the sudden loss of friction. But before you can protest, he silences you with a brief kiss.

“‘M gonna put it in, okay?” he murmurs hotly, lining up the tip of his cock against your hole before gently pressing the aching tip inside.

Your mouth hangs into an ‘o’ shape, eyes pinched shut as he slowly sinks his cock into your core. You squirm and whimper as you tread the line between pain and pleasure, walls fluttering as his hips press against the back of your thighs. the feeling of being filled fully by miguel sends you into a daze everytime, and he’s so deep inside you can almost feel him in your throat

“g-god, you’re so big,” you whimper, face flushed as your body adjusts to his huge size. Miguel sucks in air between his gritted teeth sharply as your tight walls clamp down on him, engulfing him in your warmth and sucking him in. While he gives you a second to adjust, he slides his hands under the backs of your thighs and pushes your knees to your chest for a less extreme breeding press.

“gonna fuck my cum into you hermosa and knock you up with another baby,” He growls breathlessly, “You’d like that, yeah?” You eagerly nod your head in agreement, tummy flipping with butterflies at his dirty talk before he teasingly pulls out his length almost completely, only to thrust it entirely back in with a force that makes an unintentional moan escape you lips, and your eyes roll back.

His thrusts eventually build a strong rhythm, his hips slamming into you so heavy and mean, hitting the spots inside you that made you see stars. The only sound echoing in the small room was your loud moans mixed with his breathy grunts, along with the loud squelching sound of your slick as his cock drags in and out of your sloppy cunt. “god baby, you’re fucking me so, so good,” you moan, voice shaky, and he slides his hand up your body to rest a hand around your throat. “Yeah? you like it when im rough with you?” he chuckles dryly.

You suck in a sharp breath as he releases your throat and pulls your knees even closer to your chest in a full mating press, letting them rest over his shoulders as if he’s trying to get his cock inside you impossibly deeper. you cry out and desperately claw at the couch, feeling helpless as the new position sends electrifying shocks coursing through your body. pleasure cascades over you and overwhelms your senses, causing your legs to tremble uncontrollably.

Miguel loved seeing you like this, mind gone and pussy stretching to take cock that was too big for you to handle. God, you looked irresistible, fucked dumb under his touch.

“‘M gonna cum Mig, please, please, cum inside me, please!” you beg, tears beginning to well in your eyes. miguel notices and groans at the sight, his thrusts beginning to quicken even more. “shh, baby, you don’t wanna wake up Gabi, do you?” he coos breathlessly, causing a flutter in your chest, and you suppress a gasp. Moving closer, he gently places his forehead against yours, igniting an intense warmth that engulfs both of you. “dont worry nena, I’m gonna fuck my cum right into your pretty little pussy and give you that daughter you wanted m’kay? don’t cry,” he whispers, and it only takes a few more hard thrusts before the coil in your stomach finally snaps.

your eyes squeeze shut and you let out open-mouthed silent moans, your voice lost to the amount of pleasure you’re in as you gush around him. Miguel follows suit soon after, his heavy groans and growls filling the room as he presses his pelvis against your ass and breeds your cunt full of his hot, sticky cum.

Miguel doesn’t bother to pull out yet, the room falling into an abrupt silence, with only the sound of heavy, labored breathing breaking the stillness.

“Hope you’re ready, because I’m not done with you yet.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara smut #miguel x reader #smut #miguel ohara #miguel smut #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x oc #miguel x y/n #miguel o hara #<3 #miguel o hara x reader #2099<3

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mggsv · 2 months

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BEHIND CLOSED DOORS

j. jungkook x f!black reader || (18+) || reblogs would be appreciated!!

warnings : fingering, pussy eating, hair pulling, public sex,

Jeon Jungkook had to have you.

His eyes wouldn’t leave your frame. Your jaw-dropping smile taking over his mind.

You weren’t aware though, part from the slight glances you made his way, knowing he was there. As an actress, and the star of his upcoming music video, it was fair to possibly keep your distance. It wasn’t- but you felt like you should. You’re both fairly famous people, so when news sparked online about you staring in his video, of course questions were raised.

His team reaching out to you felt like a dream come true. You’ve been in countless films and other videos, but this was insane, for you and for fans. The camera on you, the light illuminating your face. The first scene, you reaching out to the camera that supposedly represented Jungkook. His beautiful voice blasting through the speakers. He could stare at you through the little screen all day.

It lifted you in ways unknown to everyone there. The first scene representing the morning after. You on the soft looking bed, reaching out to him, giggling but so flushed. Something about you taking his shirt after waking up. Through the screen it seemed as if he was the one recording you. Something wholesome yet so intimate. Your heart thumped in your chest, the oversized shirt exposed your beautiful shoulders, your bare thighs caught in the thick comforter.

The atmosphere was light, but the tension between Jungkook and your body couldn’t be penetrated by a knife if someone tried. Running a hand through his hair, the camera cut as to wrap up. You smiled, falling back into the bed laughing, your eyes filled with compliments which you responded to with little ‘thank you!’s.

As you get up to walk off set, your eyes meet Jungkook’s once more. He gave you a slight nod, you didn’t miss the way the sliver on his lips curled up as he smiled.

Jeon Jungkook had to have you. Despite the media, how a certain collective group of fans would act towards you, it didn’t matter. They didn’t matter.

“Oh..oh fuck-“

“Keep your legs open f’me.”

“..Trying-“ Jungkook’s tongue pushes deeper into you. On the floor of your dressing room, him on his knees. Your legs are spread wide, hand entangled in his hair. His thumb pulled at your sensitive clit, rubbing the spit coated muscle gently. He knew how loud you can get.

Soft whispers of his name rolling off of your tongue, plump parted lips swollen from when he sucked on them just moments before. He quickly replaces his tongue with his fingers, chin glistening while he glanced up at you with such an innocent smile. Your fingers tugging at his hair, a grin mirrored back at him from you. “Good girl..doing so good.”

Jeon Jungkook is not innocent. That’s what you had learned. No matter how much he wanted to fuck you on the prop bed just moments before- he got you alone in your dressing room (away from anyone that would talk about you two to the media) and immediately went down to ravish his long awaited meal.

#jungkook #jk #bts jungkook #bts #kpop #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkoooook #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts x black reader #jungkook x black reader #black reader #army #bts army #golden jungkook #jungkook jeon #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x female reader

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kenslilove · 3 months

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᯽៰ ͘ ࣭⸰ 𖥔 ͙ࣳ Who’s Little Sister?! Pt.2

preview: You called him your boyfriend? Why would you do that? Draken isn't sure he's cut out to be the boyfriend to Takemichi's precious little sister...

ft. Ken "Draken" Ryuuguji x fem!reader

wc. 9kish... help 🫠🤪😰😵‍💫🥴🤡

W. NFSW 18+ MINORS DNI, age gap (Draken is in his late 20’s and owns the bike shop, reader is in their early 20’s in university), fem reader (takemichi’s little sister), crybaby/bimbo reader, angsty in the middle, Draken is very insecure of his ability to be in a relationship, slight exhibitionism (Draken fucks you while on call), multiple cream pies, messy make-outs, oral (m!receiving), mating press, squirting, lots of praise, aftercare, lots of pet names, it gets soft and passionate at the end 🥹🥹

an. The long-awaited part 2 of “Who’s Little Sister.” I put my heart, soul, and pussy into this piece. I think it's my favourite thing I've ever written in all honesty, it very much encapsulates how I think Draken’s and I’s relationship would start. God, I love him so much. It’s also the first time I've written anything remotely angsty though, and I can’t tell if it's lame or not LMFAO. Please, let me know what you think. I'm so very happy to be reposting this piece on this blog to share with yall, it’s literally so important to me <33 and I’m so so happy this is the fic that is bringing back my writing spark! Part 3 will hopefully be even better than this 🙏🏼🤭 Constructive feedback, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

extra note: Listen to “Nothings gonna hurt you baby.” By Cigarettes After Sex during the last scene. It’s Kenny’s and I’s selfship song and help inspired me for the ending <33

tagging: @enchantedforest-network @eveningatthemoviesnetwork and @shoyosdoll bc you've been such a supporter of this fic hehe <33 i hope you love part 2 as much as part 1 <33

“Draken-Kun, are you coming tonight?”

There was silence on Draken’s end of the phone as all the other males on-call waited for a response. Mikey was the first one to say something back, annoyance clear in his tone as he spoke directly into the receiver, making his voice sound much louder than necessary.

“Oi, Ken-Chin, get off the phone if you’re just gonna ignore us.”

“Sorry–” Draken finally responded, his voice seeming just a bit more… strained than usual. Not enough for the boys to notice until he grunted softly, what seemed to be creaking or something muffled in the background of his audio call.

“You good, dude?” Mitsuya piped up, his own voice a little muffled due to a sewing needle between his lips but nothing like Draken’s.

“Oh yea, fuckin peachy–” Draken breathed in response, his huff coming out as a soft laugh when a bit of sweat started to roll down his temple.

If he was being honest, he wasn’t really paying attention to the call, how could he, when you, Takemichi’s precious little sister was underneath him, sprawled out and trembled as his cock drilled into you at a steady pace. You were biting down on your bottom lip so hard, Draken swore that blood would free itself soon from the delicate flesh, your eyes screwed shut as your pretty chest bounced with each thrust of his hips. You were trying so hard for him to be quiet, just like he instructed as soon as he picked up the phone. The attempt was adorable, considering how vocal you usually were for him.

But Draken was twisted, he knew that deep down, so he just couldn’t help himself when he angled his hips just right so his cock head would jab right into that gummy sweet spot within your walls. You yelped, pleasure shooting up your spine, only for the sound to be cut off by the smack of Draken’s free palm clamping over your mouth.

“Who has a girl over~?” Baji piped up, suddenly very much interested in the conversation. Draken laughed shallowly into his receiver, his hand tightening up along your jaw as he continued to ram into the spot that made you see stars. You couldn’t even control your babbles when he did this, an endless stream of whimpers and sobs being muffled into his palm as you held onto his wrist for dear life.

“Gotta go, Text me what time I needa be there–” Draken didn’t wait for a response from his friends. Instead, he hung up quickly, abandoning the device somewhere on the bed. When he released the hold on your mouth you whined at him, the tears finally spilling from your eyes.

“K-Kenny, Kenny please– Please–!”

“So fuckin loud pretty, all the damn time,” Draken says it with a grin, easily manhandling your thighs over his shoulders so he can fuck into you deeper. He presses a kiss to your ankle, right beside the anklet he bought you as your pussy flutters so desperately around his cock.

“O-Oh! Please, Ken–!”

“Please what?” Draken grunts, his hips slapping up against yours ruthlessly now as his release comes dangerously close. He knew you weren’t far behind. Had learned your signs very early on. Your toes would curl, your eyes would get foggy, chest stuttering. Your pussy would milk him so tight and leave rings of arousal on his cock.

And he loved every second of it.

“Wanna cum, needa cum again–!” you pleaded with him, nails digging into the muscles of his flexing biceps. He nodded in agreement, his own voice becoming hoarse due to the sheer squeeze of your pussy. Although his pace started to get sloppy he still fucked into you, one hand slithering between your sweaty bodies in order to massage ruthlessly at your clit.

“Go on then, cum, make a fuckin mess f’me gorgeous.” He breathes, licking his lips when you throw your head back with a cry. The mess you make on his cock is breathtaking, arousal squirting from your used hole and dousing his hand, wrist and abs. He swears under his breath at the borderline painful grip your pussy has on his cock when you finish, one final thrust allowing him to spill ropes of cum right up against your cervix.

Draken’s trembling when he falls onto his elbows over you, his breath coming out a bit shaky as his cock still twitches within your walls in the aftermath of both of your highs. He starts pressing wet, opened-mouthed kisses along your neck and face to help you come too, a soft chuckle leaving his lips when you whine softly.

“You okay baby?” His voice is a whisper, and as the energy slowly comes back to you he smooths his palm over your cheek, thumb swiping under your eye to pick up leftover tears. You nod, one of your trembly hands lazily dragging through his black locks of hair. “Mhm, m’good, Kenny. Help me sit up?” He does, one big palm on the back of your neck to help you to sit up against the headboard.

He presses a smooch to your lips before easing himself out of you, both of you wincing softly from the loss of contact. It’s only when he pulls out completely and his softening cock falls against his thigh that he realises just how big of a mess the two of you made of yourself and the sheets. It makes him swell with pride, a grin slowly curling on his lips.

You’ve come a long way, from the sweet girl who was just learning to cream on his cock to the messes you’ve made on his bed on the daily.

“M’gunna get a cloth.” He says, handing you a glass of water and your phone as soon as he stands to keep you occupied. His muscles are still a bit tingly as he stands, arms stretching up and above his head as he heads towards the bathroom.

“Nice butt!” You call out, making him snort softly as he stands before the bathroom mirror. He can’t help but admire the marks you’ve littered across his neck and chest, the cute little bruises reminding him of the shape of your puckered lips. He then examines the nail marks you’ve left along his forearms and shoulders, some of the red pathways breaking in the middle to show little droplets of blood. Lastly, he sighs dreamily at the sheen of your arousal that coats his pelvis, a ring of white still layered at his base.

Man knew he was in heaven.

When he came back to the bedroom after tidying himself a bit, as well as with a cloth in hand you were on the phone with someone, giggling into the receiver and looking up at Draken with a playful glint in your eye.

“I’ll actually meet with you later, m’with my boyfriend right now~” Despite the way your giggling increased and you squealed to your friend about how you’ve mentioned him before with such excitement, Draken was anything but that.

His chest tightened up, crease forming between his brow. Boyfriend? When did that become his title?

“Kennnnnny~” You snapped him out of his thoughts, though his brows stayed furrowed. “Hurry! The mess is only getting bigger over here.”

One hand was planted on the mattress as he gently wiped the dampened towel over your pussy and thighs, your hand coming to cover his, making him pause in your tracks. “Shouldn’t scowl so much, handsome.” You murmur it gently, thumb gently smoothing between his brows in an attempt to fix the crinkles there. “You’ll get wrinkles~”

“You called me your boyfriend–” His voice was blunt, which took you by slight surprise. A little pout formed on your swollen lower lip as you subconsciously squeezed at his wrist.

“Well, yea–”

“We haven’t talked about that.” He was still being blunt as ever, so much so it almost startled you, made you feel much smaller under him as he sat up on his hunched, throwing the soiled cloth into the laundry bin.

“I-I know…” You simply muttered, chest started to feel tight as you watched just how serious his face had become. He was tugging his strands of black hair into a low bun when you sat up a bit more, fingers gently brushing over his chest. “But I just thought, thought that we were together…”

And it wasn’t wrong for you to think that way. Ever since that first night at Draken’s apartment the two of you had been secretly hanging out. You went out to restaurants, and the local arcade took his bike to the mountainside and watched the sunset. The two of you had bought little things for one another, like the gold anklet that sat pretty on your ankle and the hello kitty keychain that was currently attached to his bike keys. You even made sure to turn off your location so Takemichi couldn’t see just how often you were having sleepovers at Draken’s place.

You two did the things that couples did together. You two did the things that you saw Takemichi and Hina do on the regular. Dare you even say, you did things with Draken that he and Emma used to do–

Plus, he was fucking you every chance he got.

“Well, maybe you shoulda thought about talkin to me about it first before you go squealing that I’m your boyfriend.” His tone was harsher than he wanted it to be, a tone he usually used with his friends but never really with you. It had you suck in a soft breath, suddenly feeling very exposed curled up in nothing but his bedsheets.

“You don’t have to be so mean–”

“M’not being mean, I’m being realistic. It ain’t cute to just assume I’m your boyfriend when we haven’t talked about anything official.” He was off the bed now, tugging up his boxers. When you didn’t respond he sighed. “We hang out and fuck around, why do we need to be more than–”

When he turned around again to look you in the eye his own voice caught in his throat. Your eyes had gotten wide, a glossy layer of tears hiding the usual beautiful shine your gaze held. Your lower lip was trembling softly, fingers clutching onto the covers so tightly he noticed how your knuckles turned white.

“Hey–”

“M’gunna go.” You interrupted, the crack in your tone only making his heart plummet harder in his chest. As you got to your feet, his blanket securely wrapped around you he grabbed both your shoulders.

“Hey, don’t be like that (Y/N), you don’t even have a ride–”

“Gunna call Michi.” You slipped out of his grasp by tucking yourself out from under his hands, bending to grab at your clothes scattered across the ground.

“Like hell you are. We’re not telling him about us, remember what happened last time?” Draken could still hear the boy's ruthless comments after that first night, the crack of Baji’s fist against his jaw–

“Don’t care, wanna go home.” Your muttering had gotten softer, ready to slip into the bathroom and shut the door right in his face.

“Would you stop being such a brat?” Draken grabbed at your arm this time, tugging it back towards him. He himself hadn’t expected it to be so forceful, the little squeak you released and the falling of tears instantly making him let go of you. You both stared at each other a little shocked, Draken’s breath froze in his throat and his fingertips went a bit cold as you looked at him.

Teary-eyed, shrunken in. Scared. Were you scared of him?

Without a word, you finally went into the bathroom, and it was only then that Draken let out his frustrated breath, cheeks feeling hot as he clenched his fists up at his sides. Fuck, what the fuck was happening right now. He hated this nonsense, hated just how frustrated he felt, hated that look on your face, hated that he couldn’t even really understand what emotions were running through his head.

Why was he mad anyway? Why was any of this really a big deal?

He used his own phone to call you a cab, knowing you wouldn’t actually call Takemichi to pick you up. You had also gotten an ear full after getting caught, and as much as you trusted your brother, the last thing you needed right now was a lecture. You stayed locked in the bathroom until Draken gave the wood a gentle knock with his knuckles.

“Cabs here…” He murmured. You didn’t look at him when you walked out, eyes bloodshot and downcast and when slipped past him fully clothed. He watched from the ledge of his bed, jaw set rigid as you so casually adjusted your bag over your shoulder, now a little overfilled with the stuff you had started to accumulate in his bathroom. Something slipped from your fingertips onto his kitchen counter before you made a beeline for the door, Draken only getting up when it closed firmly behind you.

He approached slowly, that odd feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach seeming to grow, expanding into his chest as he noticed the subtle twinkle on the countertop. It was the anklet he bought you, dainty, gold, shiny, his initials hanging from the small tag.

“Fuck—!“ His emotions boiled over into anger, face red when his fist connected with the drywall. A crack formed in the white fall, his knuckles taking on a deep purple almost instantly as he pulled his clenched fist back to his side. Instead, he let his forehead rest in the dent he just made, thoughts spiralling, making his heart pound in his chest.

Had he really just done that? Made a big deal over nothing? Put his hands on you? And for what?

You called him your boyfriend… was that really… so wrong?

Was he really so set on “not being a sister fucker”, did he really care so much about what the boys thought, what people said about him, that he was willing to let you go?

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed leaned up against the wall like that, thoughts running wildly through his mind, making it pound. Eventually, when his eyes started to get sore, narrowing down in an attempt to hold back unwanted angry tears he moved back to his room to plop himself down into bed. And he didn’t get up for the rest of the evening.

It had been a week.

One whole week since you had left Draken’s apartment, and the two of you had not spoken since. Day three was when Draken caved and texted you, considering you had turned your location off for him so he couldn’t check up on you from time to time.

“Are you okay? Please, we need to talk.”

Radio silence. The message was left unread by you. He even sent another the day after, just a quick message but a little more firm than the last.

“Don’t shut me out like this.”

And still, nothing. It was killing Draken from the inside out. Each day that passed made him more anxious than the last. Were you okay? Did you hate him now? Were you crying to your brother? Draken couldn’t ask Takemichi about you, cause he didn’t even know you two were a thing in the first place. But every time he saw his black-haired friend his heart would stutter, tightening up in his chest.

You laughed just like he did. Were you laughing right now?

Draken had a bad habit of letting things like this consume him. Almost everything seemed to remind him of you or something the two of you had done and it was driving him a little crazy. And all because you had called him your boyfriend.

All because Draken was afraid to commit to someone again despite his need to do so. All of his friends always thought he was so mature, and yet here he was, working through feelings that were staring him right in the face like some teenage boy.

He kept his headphones in at the shop, his body hunched slightly on the stool he set up beside the bike he was currently repairing. The music was loud, drowning out not only the background noise but his thoughts that seem to repeat themselves over and over. His brows were slightly furrowed when he lifted from the busted engine only a moment, just enough to wipe away excess sweat that built up on his brow.

That’s when he caught a glimpse of you. It made his heart pause mid-beat, breath hitching in his throat. He caught the last bits of you as you rounded the corner that led up the stairs, probably in search of Takemichi But that didn’t matter.

Draken found himself scurrying from his seat, the stool skidding from under him as he was quick to follow suit. With long strides, he made it to the stairs and there you were, hand on the railing, one of those cute little skirts he loved hugging your waist just right. He called out to you, twice actually, quickly pulling his headphones from his ears when you actually turned to look at him.

“Hey–”

“I won’t be long.” You simply responded, voice sounding much too sad for Draken’s liking. He noticed how your hand tensed up on the railing when he approached and it made him frown. “I’m just grabbing something for Michi–”

“I wanna talk to you.” He took another step, a tentative one. He hated how your eyes were already getting a little glassy. “Let’s just talk, sweetheart.”

“Don’t wanna talk, Ken.” There was that familiar shake in your tone, the one he had become very aware of. You were just like your brother in so many ways.

His sweet little crybaby.

“C’mere…” He was on the step right in front of you now, the levelling allowing him to lean down just a bit so his face could be close to yours. You took your time meeting his gaze, fingers now fidgeting with the hem of your skirt. “It’s okay baby…”

“You–” He could tell you were trying to gather your bearings, trying so desperately not to crumble and let the tears fall that were already sitting in your lashes. He was patient with you, scared that if he went in too strong you’d just run off from him again. You sucked in a shaky breath before continuing. “You really hurt me, Draken.”

He could have hissed, chest getting a little tight. He hated the way that nickname sounded coming from you.

“I know, I know little love and–”

“Do you not wanna be my boyfriend? I thought you liked me.”

“I do like you–”

“Then be my boyfriend.” It had been a bit more firm than he expected, your brows set and a little pout on your lips after you spoke it. Had things been a little different, he would have told you just how proud he was of you for standing your ground like that.

“It’s not, it's just not that simple.” It was his turn to think his words over, lips catching between his teeth as those doubtful thoughts started returning to him. He was right, wasn’t he? It wasn’t that simple because–

“Why not?” You were being blunt again, words bordering on angry as you sniffled. The first few tears finally fell and Draken wanted nothing more than to wipe them away.

“Well to start, there’s your brother–”

“I don’t care what Michi thinks!” You groaned it out as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I wanna be with you, Ken–”

“But–” He really hated that he couldn’t seem to find the right words.

“What are you so afraid of?”

That really made Draken stop, eyes widening just a bit as he looked back into your teary ones. Your chest was heaving a bit as the silence sat heavily between the two of you. Draken blinked, once, twice, brain reeling over this one simple question.

Draken had been in many fights, grew up in a brothel, seen blood and gore and sex and a lot of things people shouldn’t see. He wasn’t scared any of those times. So, why now? Why was he so scared now as he looked into your eyes that were basically pleading with him for an answer.

“I–” His words were shaky, and finally broke the intense gaze the two of you were sharing as he looked down. “I dunno.”

There was another beat of silence before you continued up the staircase. Draken only looked up when he knew you were at the top, far enough away from him that he didn’t have to feel like your gaze was piercing him. He wished that he didn’t look though, wished that he hadn’t seen that sad smile on your lips.

He never wanted to see that ever again, not on you.

“I hope I’ll still be around when you figure it out.”

Drake wasn’t sure how much time had passed now since he had seen you. The first few days he refused to even think about that interaction on the stairs. That sad smile of yours easily pulls his heart apart and thinking back on it only made him more and more pissed at himself.

So instead of thinking of you, he filled his time with work. He found himself opening and closing the shop, despite Inui trying to make him go back to their balanced schedule. He took on more projects, burying himself under the weight of grease and bolts instead of dealing with the weight that now sat in his chest.

You hadn’t come back to the shop yet either, he had a feeling you’d never come back.

What got Draken out of work early one night was a call from Mitsuya. He called twice before Draken reluctantly picked up the phone, the annoyance clear in his tone as he held the phone to his ear with his shoulder.

“Ya know m’working–”

“Well, you sound just delighted to hear from me~” Mitsuya hummed, chuckling when he heard Draken’s grunt from the other end of the phone. Mitsuya was organising threads by colour when he spoke. “Come over tonight?”

“I don’t feel like partying,” Draken answered back right away. What he meant though was that he didn’t wanna go in case Takemichi was there because then he would only remind him of–

“It’s not gonna be a party doofus, it’ll just be us two.” Draken made a look of disgust, more so at the insult than anything else. “Just come.”

“I have shit to do here–” He was trying his best to get out of this, but if anyone could see through Draken’s bullshit, it was Mitsuya.

“You’ve locked yourself in that damn shop for the past week, I know you can make a little time to go out. Let Inui close tonight.”

“Nah, it’s my night.” It wasn’t.

“Bet you haven’t even showered.”

“Oh fuck off–” Draken grunted, sniffing himself only because Mitsuya wasn’t there to give him the side-eye. He scowled softly to himself when the scent he picked up coming from his overalls was far from pleasant. “Will you quit nagging me if I come, mom?”

“Absolutely buddy.” Mitsuya was chuckling softly, rolling in his chair to pull back up to his sewing table. “See you at 7, doofus.”

Draken wasn’t given the opportunity to snap back with something clever, the phone went dead right away. With a huff Draken resultantly found himself putting his tools away, tucking his overused workbench in its proper corner so he could head off to Mistuya’s.

But not without a shower first.

Draken’s hair was still damp when he headed for Mitsuya’s place. With how fast Draken sped his bike down the freeway, it only took about ten minutes tops. Draken lugged a case of beer with him up to the familiar walkway that belonged to Mitsuya’s townhouse. When he opened the door he still had his work glasses on, a lazy grin tugging on his features when he was met with the sight of Draken’s scowling face.

“Would you look at that, he showered.”

Draken just rolled his eyes, nudging past Mitsuya and making himself at home. The two found themselves quickly situated on the couch, spread out on each end and open beers on coasters. Mitsuya had pulled out his old N64, so the two were currently in a round of Mario kart. The silence had been comfortable between the two, as it usually was until Mitsuay finally decided to speak up.

“So, what's got you fucked up?”

“What?” Draken said with a short laugh, his eyes staying glued to the tv screen.

“You only get all solitary like this when something is really bothering you, so–”

“Nothin’s up, m’good.” Draken simply grunted, which quickly turned into a scowl when Mitusya passed him for first place in the game. “Quit distracting me.”

“Is it Takemichi’s little sister?”

Draken almost choked on his beer, finally looking away from the screen to look at Mitsuya who was still calm as ever. Only after he passed the finish line did he meet Draken’s gaze, one brow lifted up.

“What about her?”

“You were seeing her–”

“I was not.”

Now it was Mitsuya’s turn to laugh, a hearty one too that only made Draken’s brows furrow further. He pulled his glasses from his face, sighing out as he shook his head.

“You think you’re so hard to read, but you’re not.” Mitsuya kept talking before Draken could bark at him. “I know you kept seeing her after that night.”

“Okay, so?” Draken wasn’t sure why he was getting so defensive, maybe it was because it pissed him off that Mitsuya knew him better than he knew himself.

“So, did you two break up?”

“We were never together.” Draken simply stated, going to start another round of Mario kart. But as soon as the words left his lips he hated the way they sounded, and now that they were out there, floating around his head it made him grip his controller a little tighter.

“Oh, you weren’t?” Mitsuya said, that dumb smile of his making Draken shake his head, grit his teeth even. It was Mitsuya’s turn to scoff, tipping his beer back to polish it off. “You are such a fuckin doofus dude.”

“Watch your mouth man–”

“Why are ya doing this to yourself?” Draken sucked in a little breath. The silence hung in the air between them a little and Mitsuya rolled his eyes when he saw how Draken’s head tipped slightly to the side in confusion. He continued as he opened up another beer. “Why aren’t you letting yourself be happy? You can do commitment, you’ve done it before.”

Draken felt a little frozen in place, eyes unfocused as he tried to process what Mitsuya had so obviously laid out for him. His heart started to pick up in his chest as he really thought it over, well at least tried to. “Yea, I did it before and look what happened.”

Flashes of his relationship with Emma were impossible to ignore. How things went from wonderful to terrible so quickly. How the two of them became each other's world so fast for it all to crash and burn. The fighting, the lies, how he was so scared after he lost her but to also lose everyone he loved. His found family was all he had, and if they had decided to up and leave–

“Sure, it was a bad breakup,” Mitsuya spoke with a simple shrug of his shoulders, looking at Draken’s pained face over the lip of his bottle. “But it didn’t stay bad, did it?”

“Guess not…” Draken murmured. It didn’t. He didn’t lose his best friends, he didn’t even really lose Emma. After time apart and some growing up, the two had gone back to speaking terms.

“So, let yourself be happy, dude.”

“But she’s another little sister–”

“Yea you have a type.” Mitsuya couldn’t help but laugh, especially after Draken sent his controller flying at him. Mitsuya thankfully caught it, holding a hand up in defence. “Relax! I’m joking… The boys are gonna bug you about it, but Draken, who the fuck cares.”

Draken slowly nodded at that, allowing himself to really think it all over. He had never been the type to care so much about what others thought about him. He was letting himself get in his head for something that was already over and done with. Rubbing his hand over his forehead, he picked up another beer, shaking his head as he twisted the top off to chug some of it down.

“I hate you, you know that?” He mumbled to Mitsuya, which only made him laugh out loud in response. He clinked his bottle up against Draken’s.

“Love you too buddy. You should really make up with her.” Draken eyed Mitsuya over the lip of his beer. “I assume you said some dumb guy shit to her.”

Draken pouted, mumbling something along the lines of “maybe I did” before he took another drink. Looking down the stem of the bottle Draken sighed softly, thinking of that sad smile on your face. It made him scoff at himself. “I just– I’m not sure I’ll be able to treat her right, as her boyfriend.”

“Well, she’s stuck around this long, hasn’t she?” Mitsuya started to set up another game of Mario Kart for the two of them as Draken nodded slowly. “I’m sure if she didn’t think you’d treat her right, she woulda left.”

Those couple words were left lingering in Draken’s head the rest of the evening. Mitsuya didn’t bring it up again, and Draken didn’t dare to. But as he started to pass out on his friend's couch, he had one too many beers to be driving himself home, he really thought over what Mitsuya had said. What he knew was right.

I’m sure if she didn’t think you'd treat her right, she woulda left.

Draken chuckled softly to himself, his palm coming up to slap him right on the forehead. The sting made him hiss to himself, but it's what he deserved. He’d never admit it out loud, but sometimes he wished his brain worked the way Mitsuya’s did.

“I’m such an idiot.” He spoke, and it was Mitsuya sleepy agreeing with him on the couch beside him that had him laughing all over again.

He knew you’d be finishing classes up on campus right now, had picked you up and dropped you off many times before to know that you’d be coming out of the big college building any minute now. He parked right out front, his hands dug deep into his pockets as he watched the door. His eyes scanned over many faces, all different kinds, all of them filtering through, onyx gaze trying to lock onto–

You.

You were in the middle of giggling, those familiar wrinkles showing up around the corners of your eyes, your pretty manicured nails holding the books you had tighter to your chest. The image made him smile fondly, lips upturned just a little when the two of you finally made eye contact.

He was more than grateful that you returned the small smile. The darkest parts of him had conceived him; you'd simply walk right by him, or even turn around in the opposite direction. But instead, you excused yourself from your friends, who all couldn’t help but side-eye the older, imitating dude leaning on a motorcycle, dragon tattoo on full display with his hair pulled up in a loose ponytail. As you approach he speaks, unable to keep his eyes off your own.

“Hey.”

“Hi, Ken.” Just the way you say his name makes his heart flutter a little. He moves to the side, opening up the small compartment on his bike that’ll allow you to put your books inside.

“Come with me?” He asks, and the momentary silence makes him feel more nervous than he had in a long time. You could say no, he could have taken too long. You could have already slipped right out of his fingertips and it would be all his fault–

“Okay.” You simply reply, and your smile doesn’t falter. It stays as you tuck your books away, as he places his helmet on your bread and helps you adjust the straps. You in front of him on the bike just as you had on that first night he picked you up. His hands easily swallowed yours on the handlebars, and before you knew it the two of you were speeding off towards his place. You knew that because the route had become too familiar after the many times he’d whisked you away after school. Your heart was beating fast in your chest like it normally did when you rode on Draken’s bike. It filled you with a type of adrenaline you hadn’t been able to find anywhere else.

That and the fact that his hands seemed to be holding yours tighter than usual.

After a couple of sharp turns and uphill roads, you two made it to Draken’s apartment. He gave you your space as you two headed to his room a couple of floors up, his heart seeming to be in his throat. He needed to relax, he knew exactly what he had to say to you, knew what he had to do, and yet as he fiddled with his keys a bit to find the right one that opened his apartment, the familiar scent of your perfume was making his brain a little foggy.

It was the warmth of your fingers that shook him from whatever haze he was in, the tips of his ears feeling a bit hot as your fingers easily tugged the right key, helped him slip it into the lock. “It’s this one, Ken.” You say it as if your presence alone isn’t making him weak at the knees.

He just nodded, allowing you in first. Shoes were slipped off and the two of you found yourself in his kitchen. You stood right in the middle, your arms tucked neatly behind your back, hands clasped. He missed the way you used to make yourself at home, grabbing something from his fridge or sprawling out on his couch.

He wanted you to be that comfortable again.

“I really needed to see you.” He started, his voice a little hesitant. He cleared his throat, fingers once again in his pockets. He looked everywhere but at you, despite the way he felt your gentle gaze burning into him. “I needed, I just–” He huffed. “I really fucked up–”

There was your familiar warmth again, but instead, you were grabbing at one of his hands. So easily your fingers threaded into his, and suddenly the weight in his tummy didn’t feel all that heavy as he looked down at you, those wide pretty eyes he had missed so fucking much. “You did kinda fuck up–” You murmur, which makes him huff again, this time with a hint of laughter behind it. “I know I did. I know.”

He pulled you in a little closer, and he was so very grateful that you weren't resistant. In fact, you melted into his chest, your face finding that familiar comfortable spot against his peck, cheek pressed up against where you felt his heartbeat, which was currently pounding in his chest. He sucks in another breath, one hand coming to gently pet your head. “I’m sorry, I’m real sorry sweetheart…” He feels the way you start to tremble and it eats at him, brows furrowing up. “Please, don’t babygirl, m’tryna apologise to you–”

“Don’t be dumb like that ever again Ken.” Your voice waves and he knows you’re about to cry, but he doesn't stop you from speaking, if anything, your shaky words only make him hold you tighter, a fond smile coming to his lips. “Don’t leave me like that again!” Your voice cracks and Ken has to chuckle under his breath, but there's no bite to his laughter, only fondness. “Next time, just talk to me. I-I know I’m younger and inexperienced b-but I know what I want and that's you–”

That's when he finally stops you, one big palm cupping your cheek. He tilts your head up, thumb smoothing over your cheekbone before he's pressing a smooch to your lips. You both seem to relax against the embrace, and when he feels a salty tear hit his thumb he swipes it away, lips parting from your just enough so he can murmur against them.

“I know, lil love. I know.” When your lower lip trembles a bit a smile breaks out on his lips. One that makes the corner of his lips twitch, little wrinkles showing up around his eyes. His hands cup your neck so gently, thumbs pressing up against the underside of your jaw. He murmurs again, this time his words slurred along with your breathy, soft whimper. “I want you too…”

This time the kiss is desperate, needy. Your fingers turn white at the knuckles when you grip at his shirt, lips moulding against his own. Draken’s tongue is impatient, slithering into your open mouth and reexploring the warm cavern that is your mouth. He huffs when your chest presses flush to him, and with ease his big hands cup your thighs, scooping you into his embrace. Your legs cling to his waist without a thought, the giddy giggle bubbling from your lips and against his own making a bit of blush rise on his cheeks.

Oh, how he missed that sweet, sweet sound.

Draken tries not to trip over himself as he carries you off to his bedroom, his back hitting up against the door at the same time your teeth playfully tug at his bottom lip. He drops you down and the bounce of your body has both of you a little too excited, Draken’s shirt easily coming off as he tugs it up over his head.

“Lemme show you how badly I want you, baby.” His voice has already gotten deeper, and as his big hand comes to cup the back of your neck to pull you in for another kiss he’s a bit surprised when both your palms press against his chest, pushing him away an inch.

Surprised and panicked. Was he moving too fast, did you think he was just using you in your vulnerable moment? Had he really fucked up so soon again–

His breath left him in a huff when his back hit the mattress, your body rolling over him. He blinked a few times as you straddled him, palms pressed against his chest and your face heated. He could tell that a flush was working its way up to your cheeks when you looked down at him, your body slowly scooting down from his waist to his hips.

“No, let me s-show you.” Despite just how nervous you were, Draken could tell by the way you chewed on your lower lip, how your fingers trembled a little, undoing his belt and zipper, his cock still twitched with excitement underneath you an odd sense of pride flowing through him.

You had come a long way, from the virgin he met all those months ago. He had just been the biggest idiot and here he was, pushing his hair from his face so he could watch how your pretty little hands handled his semi-hard cock with such care. How you looked at him first, batted your lashes when you leaned in and pressed the sweetest of kisses right to his tip.

“Oh fuck—“

Yea, he was never letting you go again, ever.

You took a deep breath through your nose before taking his tip between your lips, your eyes never leaving his dilated ones. He propped himself up on an elbow, free hand easing the hair away from your face. It was a sight that would be burned into his mind forever. Wide doe eyes, hand barely wrapped around his fat base, pretty lips suckling away at his tip.

“You’re gonna be the fuckin death of me pretty girl.” Draken chuckles breathlessly, and the little glint in your eyes tells him you would have smiled had your lips not been preoccupied. He kept his hand gentle on the back of your head as you slowly took more of him, your tongue flattening out against his underside. His head tilted back in a groan at your steady pace, the warmth of your mouth making his skin prickle with pleasure. His fingers curled in your hair just a bit, enough to hold him back from jerking his hips into you, make you gag–

He’d save it for another time.

“Atta girl…” He murmured, chest rising and falling a little faster as you gained your rhythm. Your eyes peaked up at him again, before you got back into it, cheeks hollowing as you took as much of him into your mouth as possible. You reached about halfway, which Draken noticed made your brows furrow up.

“S’okay, we’ve got plenty of time to make it fit, keep going lil love.” He encouraged, and you listened, head continuing to bob faster, sloppier. Draken could feel your drool dribbling down his shaft and onto his balls and it made him shiver. It didn’t help that your ass was up high, practically swaying like an excited little puppy just to be sucking him off. Swearing under his breath a moment as his balls suddenly felt all too tight, he pulled you off his cock, the pornographic pop of your lips making him grunt, you whine. The string of drool connecting your swollen lips to his cock was thick, and when it snapped onto your chin Draken could feel himself getting lightheaded.

“W-Why did you–” He silenced your whining with another fierce kiss, and without hesitation you were manhandled back into his pillows, flat on your back. He has no problem working your soiled panties off your thighs, deciding to just tuck the extra material of your skirt into the waistband “Felt fucking awesome.” Your panties are tossed right over your shoulder, a cute yelp leaving you when he hauls both your thighs up, over his shoulders. “But I wanna cum in this pretty pussy.”

From this position your pussy was split wide open for him, your clit poking out and throbbing from under the hood. He sighed, content, pausing his previous actions to lean in, pressing the softest of kisses right up against your clit.

“My pretty pussy.” His soft touch is gone, replaced with his burning desire to claim you again. A few rubs of his cock against your slicken folds, along with your drool is enough to get his cock wet enough to slip in. His breathing hitches once his head makes it past the tight ring of your muscles, the squeeze vice-like just from the simple intrusion.

“K-Ken–”

“Shh, I know.” He coos, hunching over you. With your thighs on his shoulders, his shifting has you in a mating press, a position that all too knew and is making your head spin. Your tummy folds the closer he gets to you, the pad of his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your clit while the other intertwines with the hand you had gripping the sheets close to your head. “S’always gonna be a lil tight, isn’t it babygirl.”

You’re already moaning in a wonton fashion, eyes struggling to stay open as he rocks his cock head in and out, his thumb working at your nub. When your pussy starts fluttering for him he works in a few more inches, needy sounds spilling into each other mouth due to his lips staying inches away from your own. “Gonna take it all f’me? Be my good girl?”

You nod, and when you look at him again your eyes have that familiar glassy sheen he’s grown to love. He kisses you right under the eye before with one good push his cock is all the way inside. The sound you make is downright sinful, something between a cry and a mewl and it has Draken’s cock twitching within the tightness of your cunt. It makes his vision go a little stary, the growl he releases vibrating through his chest.

“Good fucking girl.” The slap of his hips into your ass resounds throughout the room, squelching soon coming from between your bodies. In this position his cock nuzzles your sweet spot, seeming to reach down deep, into parts of you that you didn’t even realise existed, and it quickly has you falling apart, babbles freely spilling from your lips, tears wetting your hot cheeks. Draken is quick to kiss them away, his fingers tightening around yours as he puffs hot pants along your face.

“D-Deep~!” You manage to squeak, and Draken has to crack a grin, his hips suddenly stopping their brutal pace just so he can roll them instead. That had you gasping, drool spilling from your hung lips as you look up at him with a gaze that's already beyond fucked out. “S’real deep baby, s’good though yea?”

You nod, fresh tears on your lashes. “Only the best for my baby.” He utters, hips switching back and forth between rutting and grinding. He’s convinced you’ve already cum on his cock, the amount of slick bubbling around his shaft and the tightness of your walls are his hints, but he keeps going, needing to fill you up after so long. Despite your cries, he brings his hand back to your clit, his rubs becoming sloppy. He only releases your hand to cup the back of your neck instead, keeping your foreheads pressed together.

“Eyes on me, lil love.” You do manage to open your teary eyes, meeting his dilated pupils. “Good, good girl.” His body starts to twitch, broad shoulders rippling and his thighs starting to tremble as his own release quickly builds in his gut. “I– fuck. Baby, I love you, pretty–”

And despite just how dumbed out you were moments before, those words seem to bring some clarity to your eyes. Your fingers tangle into his sweaty hair, gripping it at the roots for your sanity. The pleasant little laugh you let out and breathe against his lips makes his heart jump against his ribcage.

“I love y-you Ken, love you so much, Kenny–”

His climax hits him hard, the full-body chill he experiences making goosebumps rise along his spine as he fills you up. The feeling of his warm, thick cum is enough to have you coming undone right along with him, the sensation being yet another new one when liquid seems to gush past your little hole. It makes Draken’s balls tighten up instantly, the warm splash of your arousal onto his fingers that still gently coax pleasure out of your clit. And he can’t help but grin, a boyish grin that quickly turns into a grunt. “Fuck, fuckin squirtin on me, how cute.”

He doesn’t pull out, he can’t. He needs to be close to you, keep your limp body tucked carefully underneath him. You’re too far in to even notice the mess, your whines and whimpers dwindling down into soft breaths as he turns to his side, keeping you in his chest. His cock slowly softens in your walls, and even then, Draken’s keeps you glued to him as you both come down, tremors and pants still coming over both of you.

“Sweetheart.” He murmurs, face nuzzling up against your temple. When he gets a whine in return he holds you closer, careful to ease your face away from his chest so he can cover your tear-streaked face in kisses. “You’re okay, my baby…”

Draken is usually more responsible than this. Then to let you two doze off without a proper clean-up. But feeling your soft heartbeat against his, your fingers still lost in his hair, your lips pressed right up into the crook of his neck and puffing soft air, he just couldn't bring himself to let go. He didn’t want to let go now, or ever. Keeping you here, wrapped in his embrace, he was certain that you’d be there tomorrow morning too, with that beautiful smile he had fallen stupidly, hopelessly, in love with.

Fuck it. He was taking on the little sister fucker title with pride.

“Kenny, your hand is sweaty.” You murmur, trying to hold back your laughter when he shoots you a glare, pulling his hand away from you and dramatically rubbing it along his jeans.

“Fine, just won’t hold your hand, brat” He grumbles, and that sets you over, wrapping your arms around him mid-walk to press small kisses along his collar bones.

Draken hadn’t felt this nervous ever, in his entire life (this was a lie, he’s just dramatic as ever). The two of you were only steps away from your place, the same place you and Takemichi lived in together. Everyone was there, the entire found family, and you two were now official…

He was getting flashbacks of the group chat, his friend's ruthless behaviour, the way Takemichi hadn’t talked to him for one whole week, and the sweet satisfaction Baji got when he got one free punch to his jaw for Takemichi’s sake.

“Maybe we can tell them next week, or over a call. Whattya think lil love,” Draken murmured, his face hiding in your hairline. Your sweet laughter sent that familiar warmth through his chest, and one good tug on his hand had him reluctantly walking back towards the house. “You’ll be fine.” You say with a smile, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. “We’re gonna do it together.”

When you hopped up onto the front step, Draken’s eyes trailed down to the sweet dangling sound that was the anklet looped around your ankle. The gold one, with his initials, right where it belonged. The sight had him calming a little, brows furrowed in the way they usually did when he became focused. “Right, together.”

“Michi-nii!” You call out once the two of you enter the house, the sound of music and chatter already filling the front entrance. Draken holds your hand a little tighter as if he had been entering a place he’d never been before.

“Living room!” Takemichi calls out, surrounded by founding members of toman, each huddled around the kotatsu table that was covered in snacks, beers, and cards. Oddly enough the chatter died down as Takemichi was dealing out for another round, a laugh leaving his lips.

“You guys gonna take this round seriously–” It was Mikey’s elbow into his ribs that silenced him, a little puff escaping his lungs. He was about to complain when his eyes were brought to what everyone seemed to be staring at.

And that was you, beaming smile and all, with your hand held tightly by Draken’s, who couldn't seem to make eye contact with anyone.

“Hi Michi~ Hi everyone! What are ya–”

“Finally.” Mitsuya was the first to mutter, leaning back further into his spot on the couch. “Chifuyu, you owe me 20 bucks, told you they’d come out today.”

“No fair!” Chifuyu blurted out, grumbling when he reluctantly pulled bills from his pocket. Pah and Peh were the first to start laughing, clinking their beers together.”

“Wait, you knew? How?” Mikey questioned Mitsuya, who triumphantly took the money from Chifuyu with a laugh of his own. Kazutora was even starting to crack up, hiding his smirk behind his beer.

And despite all the commotion, Takemichi sat dumbfounded, eyes glued to yours and Draken’s intertwined hands. When he did finally speak, it only made the group that much rowdier.

“Well, what the fuck is this–”

“Time for another punch,” Baji said with that signature grin of his, basically hoping from his spot on the couch.

“Wait wait!” You said, your pout only stirring the pot further. “No one is punching anyone! We’re–”

“We are dating,” Draken said, eyes a bit narrowed as he spoke. “We’re dating, Takemichi, I wanna date your sister, and I’m gonna.”

There was another round of silence in the room, but it didn’t last, not when Pah mumbled under his breath.

“Classic sister fucker–”

“Well, you could have at least asked first?!” Takemichi was dramatic as ever, tears swelling up in his eyes at the thought of his precious little sister being tarnished by the big, mean, scary man that was Draken. He let go of your hand then, being just as dramatic as Takemichi if not more so “I did ask, I just asked in front of everyone.”

“But you’re already dating, have been a while no…?” Classic Mitsuya, stirring the pot and making everyone act up yet again.

“Now why would you say that you ass–”

“C’mon Michi, I’ll punch him again for you, one good punch like last time–” Baji was punching at the air for emphasis.

“Sister fucker behaviour,” Peh said with a shake of his head, only making Pah laugh harder.

And amidst the bickering and nonsense that always seemed to break out between the boys, you took a seat next to Mikey, taking the Taiyaki he had to offer you with a little huff. He noticed the anklet, observant as ever as you rolled your eyes when Takemichi actually started crying, something about you losing your innocence.

“He’ll treat you right.” You looked at Mikey, who spared you a small smile and a pat on the head. “Draken–”

“I know!” You responded happily, eyeing him as he held Baji back, the nerves he was feeling earlier long gone. You took a bite of the Taiyaki and giggled.

“I can’t wait to be with him, forever!”

property of kenslilove, do not copy, repost, translate, or move onto any other platform!!

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gyuswhore · 16 days

Text

Tugs and Strands

anniversary event [closed]

boo seungkwan x reader

prompt(s): absentmindedly playing with their hair at all times

word count: >1k

[a/n]: wrote this so fast i loved this prompt with kwan so much 🥹

masterlist

The first time Seungkwan hugged you, he buried his fingers in your hair.

A couple months of fist bumps as greetings and linked arms under the pretense of a budding friendship, he hadn’t actually hugged you until after you practically trauma dumped on some park bench outside a convenience store. It was 3 AM, no one to witness your exchange aside from the teenager at the till with his headphones in, playing some shooting game that required aggressive taps and shakes of his phone screen.

It was comforting, the usually scary empty alleyways and the faint smell of city smog all becoming part of the moment.

Tear-stained cheeks, yet a light heart, you rest your cheek against his shoulder in an attempt to physically relax, registering the hand on your back that holds you tight, and the other that’s wound itself in your hair, pulling your head closer to him.

You had thought it was simply a ‘hugging habit’ of his, having seen him guide the heads of your other friends who would hug him on whatever occasion. The particular preferences don’t truly set in until after you start dating.

Innocent enough movie night, popcorn and chips ‘n dip long consumed and digested, all that’s left is Kwan’s flat coke that sits dejected on the coffee table.

Hair falling free, head on your boyfriend’s shoulders, attention (mostly) on the screen in front of you. It isn’t until you’re nearing the climax that you fully realize that there’s something very gently shifting your hair.

To your right, Seungkwan’s fingers have gotten hold of a small chunk of your hair, twirling the strands between his digits, curling them around his finger, and then letting them fall. He picks them back up to go back to playing with them like an infinitely more relaxing fidget toy.

A quick glance at him and you realize he’s doing it subconsciously, his full attention on the scene that unfolds on the screen, eyes glazed yet concentrated. He feels your poignant stare and head shifting on his shoulder, turning to inquire.

“What?” he asks.

You shake your head, smiling a little as you rest your head back where it belongs, eyes training back to the film.

“Do you want me to change the movie?” he asks.

“Eyes on the screen, mister,” you huff humorously, taking a hand to his head to force it back forward.

You notice him doing it more frequently after that, reaching a stage of attention where you feel weirdly empty without feeling in the roots of your hair. Perhaps it was strange, but it had become a crutch of sorts, a more physical stimulant for instant calm.

The pinnacle, however, was when his hands would find your hair as you’d fall asleep, the familiar fingers playing with your strands having you snoring before you could even register falling asleep.

It’s been a long day, your spine screaming for some scalding hot water and the plush of your comforter. It’s earlier in the night when you retire, planting a kiss on Seungkwan’s awaiting lips as you bid him an earlier than usual goodnight. He promises to join in a couple hours.

“Do you want me to tuck you in?” he mumbles against your lips.

“Mm mm,” you hum against his own. “I’m a big girl.”

You both have smiles on your faces as you part.

The next thing you register as you open your heavy, bleary eyes is the familiar massage of fingers against your scalp and hair and a quiet hum of conversation beside you.

When you come to, you realize it can’t be too much later as Seungkwan is on the phone with someone, ready for bed, back against the headboard. His fingers have found your head beside him, casting his usual comforting movements.

“Yeah I saw the pictures, Bookkeu’s getting old, his fur looks wild.” He’s snickering, insults laced with affection for his dog that stays with his parents. He continues to very gently pat your resting hair.

“Bad groomer? Are you sure your daughter hasn’t been slacking?”

He speaks to his mother in a low voice, nothing that’s ever woken you before, but you don’t mind that you get to register the low buzz of his conversation paired with the free massage. Helps that he smells like heaven, picking up on his post shower dampness as you nuzzle your face into his waist, registering the oh so familiar scent of his stupidly overpriced body wash.

He’s off the phone now, leaning in closer to whisper to you, “Hi baby, did I wake you?”

You grunt out an incomprehensible noise that’s neither here nor there, too drunk on his scent and the way he’s petting you like a dog. You’re enjoying it too much, but so is he.

Seungkwan only exhales in a laugh, clattering around his bedside table. You don’t try to decide what he’s doing, because you’re half gone already, waiting for the final push into dreamland.

When you wake up, the room is a little brighter from the light that seeps in, Seungkwan’s arms rest beneath your head as a better pillow, and the hand that’s attached rests tangled in your hair.

Right where it’s decided it belongs.

#🎁gyuswhoreturns1!#svthub #seungkwan #seungkwan fluff #svt #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #seungkwan imagines #seungkwan scenarios #seungkwan x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines

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cheqorb · 5 days

Text

OFF-SCRIPT ROMANCE ft. reo, sae, kaiser

you’re both just in a fake relationship for both of your own benefits, nothing more is going on behind the scenes! and it’s definitely not actual love!

NOTES: made in mind with characters aged up to maybe around 20+ ish? i’ll continue working on mer-love requests. im even thinking of opening bnha requests since i’ve gotten back into it recently. can’t tell if kaiser is ooc or not, but i’m sure you guys are sick of my apologies so i’ll try to stop LMAOO

edit: wrote this before kaiser’s backstory and goddamn it.

as the heir to the illustrious mikage corporation, REO knew, deep down, that the time would come when he'd have to step into his parents' shoes and take control of the company. and speaking of which, his parents seem to be growing increasingly more eager to see him settle down, constantly badgering him about finding a suitable partner whenever he visited them. however, his career of being a professional soccer player meant that he would probably only be able to see them if he played games in japan itself, which rarely happened anyway.

he wasn’t an idiot; maintaining a relationship with his schedule would be practically impossible, his s/o would certainly get tired of it after a few months, and he wasn’t keen on the idea of forcing them to travel with him to every single match.

the thought of starting a relationship under false pretenses, merely to appease his parents, left a bitter taste in his mouth. he wasn’t exactly the type of guy who wanted to break someone’s heart over this. reo was stuck wondering how on earth he could pull this off, until by some stroke of genius, you came into his mind.

though not close friends, your paths had crossed enough times for him to recognise your presence. considering your own status as the heir to your own family’s fortune, his parents would also approve of you. plus, you’re already familiar with the expectations such wealth brings, surely, the lifestyle of being his significant other wouldn’t be too different from the one you already had?

as reo stumbled over his words, his usually confident demeanor giving way to a palpable sense of unease, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of empathy. despite his attempts to mask his nerves, it was clear that this request weighed heavily on him, even more so than his typical bravado could conceal.

“so, i was hoping you could consider—“

his tentative smile faltered as you swiftly interjected, a curt “yes” escaping your mouth before he could even finish his carefully rehearsed proposal. the relief in his eyes was unmistakable, though tinged with a hint of disbelief at your response. his expression softened, a mixture of surprise and relief evident in his features. “you…you don’t need to make your decision so quickly,” he stammered, clearly taken aback by your immediate acceptance. “i understand it’s a difficult thing to ask of you…”

reo couldn't help but feel nervous, in hindsight, the arrangement had fallen a little too seamlessly into place. your willingness to dive headfirst into a relationship without a moment's hesitation freaked him out slightly, but it did ultimately solve his problem! with you by his side, he could continue his career while still making his parents happy.

of course, he still had his doubts but you seemed perfectly happy to spend your days in comfort and go on luxurious vacations with your friends if he had matches coming up.

and as if his luck couldn’t get any better, you’re quite the lovely person yourself. even in the absence of his parents, you always go above and beyond to maintain appearances (he thinks that’s what your trying to do anyway?) and ensure he’s happy. whether it was a home-cooked meal awaiting him after a long day or your presence in the stands, cheering him on during matches, your seemingly genuine care for him truly warmed reo's heart.

in return, reo finds himself taking extra care of you, making sure you’ve got nice clothes to wear, randomly calling you in the middle of the night, a slip of the tongue petname here and there…

nagi could only only sigh (internally in his head, it’s too much work to actually sigh) as reo picked up his phone for the umpteenth time this hour. “maybe they’re just sleeping..?” he offers, though it doesn’t seem to help very much.

“they haven’t responded to any texts, they won’t even pick up the phone…” the man laments, sulking in the corner of the room, “my dear (name) could be in danger and i’m not there to help them-“

a quick ding from his phone soon shoots him upright from his misery, a hopeful look now on his face. he only seems more cheerful once he notices it’s a voice message too, he just loves listening to you speak! your voice is always so— ‘reo, please go to sleep, it’s late in (country) right now, isn’t it? call me back in the morning, don’t you dare think of staying up to text me.’

huh? does he really do that?

SAE’s attitude and abrasive personality is definitely one of his manager’s least favourite qualities about him. the midfielder's dislike for interviews and meet-and-greets, coupled with his unabashed insults towards those he found irritating, posed a significant challenge for his public image. while some die-hard fans may have been drawn to his aloofness in the first place, it was hardly the ideal image for sponsorship deals or modeling contracts.

his manager entertained the idea of sae entering into a relationship. perhaps, he mused, the presence of a significant other could soften his rough edges and make him more approachable to the public. though he doubted sae would ever agree to such a scheme, he was a bit desperate now. can’t hurt to try, right?

as you sat outside the room, the tension hung heavy in the air. each candidate that emerged only served to heighten your nerves, leaving you questioning your decision to agree to this dumb offer in the first place. the obvious heartbroken expressions of the people leaving the room, along with the unmistakable voice of itoshi sae uttering the word "rejected," did little to ease the growing pit in your stomach.

finally, your name was called, and you entered the room with as little flair/flamboyance as you could, no need to embarrass yourself more than you already will. his bored expression did little to boost your confidence and you found yourself avoiding direct eye contact as you introduced yourself in a sheepish manner. “hello, uhm, it’s nice to meet you. i’m (l/n) (name).”

despite sae’s initial perception of you, there was something about your genuine yet unassuming nature that intrigued him. you spoke about yourself with an honesty that bordered on indifference, almost as if you had resigned yourself to an inevitable rejection so you didn’t care how genuinely insane the things you were saying were. (seriously, wdym in college you went to a skate park and came home with a horse…)

the words escape his mouth before he can even think of what he’s saying, “look up at me.”

his request caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but stammer out an apology before reluctantly meeting his gaze. under the intensity of his teal eyes, you felt a pang of self-consciousness but thankfully maintained your composure until the end. “but, uh. that’s all I can really say about myself. thanks for listening to me.”

you flash him a smile, before swiftly getting up and exiting through the door without even letting him get a word in. ‘finally, that’s over with…’ you do feel a little bad for sae though, hopefully he would take an interest in at least one of the candidates that came in after you.

you truly believed you had created a lasting impression of someone who was most definitely not a good fit for a prodigy like him (as well as a bit of a weirdo), so imagine your shock at the email sent to you the very next day by his manager. to make a long paragraph short, you got the position! well done..?

and now, his manager arranged for you and sae to meet together for a first date to truly make sure this relationship would, at the bare minimum, allow you to be cordial with one another. well, that’s what he was hoping for anyway. if you’ve got a person like sae on your hands, you learn to not expect things to turn positive.

his blunt remarks and stoic demeanor could’ve easily derailed the evening, but to your credit, you held your own with decent resilience considering how timid you seemed upon your first meeting. in spite of the occasional falter at his words, you continued to only show kindness towards him.

he’d never, ever, admit it out loud but he does feel a little guilty at how you just take his words without complaint. he had expected some form of resistance or annoyance from you, yet you only met his words with a laugh or simply ignoring it, leaving him feeling unexpectedly unsettled. also slightly questioning your self esteem.

just as he was contemplating bringing the date to a close, you suddenly bow your head with a smile on your face. one that really captivated sae because of the actual, sheer sincerity in it.

“thank-you, sae, i mean it. you’ve been very nice to me considering i’ve just been talking your ear off this whole time, so thanks for that. i liked today a lot.”

with your words hanging in the air, sae was at a loss for how to respond. what was he supposed to do after hearing that? not decide right there and then that he wanted to give you the entire world and more? (I’M SO SORRY I CANNOT FOR THE LIFE OF ME WRITE SAE WITHOUT HIM BEING EXTREMELY OOC)

unlike the other two, KAISER’s situation can vary a little more. as in, his reasons for needing a pretend relationship can differ depending on anything. it could stem from dissatisfaction from his management, a desire to maintain his image, or simply on a whim. regardless of the reason, you’re stuck with him one way or another.

his overconfident demeanor can be jarring at times, even though you thought you had steeled yourself for it beforehand. it doesn’t seem to disappear even when the two of you are alone together; which by common sense, should be when you’re most comfortable with each other, no? yet, there are also instances when his bravado feels forced, the occasional slip in his facade.

for better or for worse, you hesitated to say anything; not wanting to overstep any boundaries. you weren’t his actual s/o, you were getting paid like the relationship was a career. besides, would someone as arrogant as to call themselves ’emperor’ even want help from you? if you’re the more compassionate type, you may just immediately cave in and try to help. well, even if you aren’t, you’ll find it increasingly difficult to ignore him, ultimately realising he is unlikely to seek help himself.

initially, he adamantly opposed any attempts from you, making it clear he preferred to deal with his troubles alone or that he didn’t need your help. your persistence is slightly alarming to kaiser, whose probably wondering if you’re trying to increase your allowance or something, but he still doesn’t give in (yet).

suppressing a sigh, you turn on your heel after placing a cup of water and a modest plate of food on the coffee table. staying where you're evidently not wanted seems pointless. "try to eat something before heading to bed, kaiser. and if you need anything, just tell me, kay?" the words spill from your lips almost automatically, uttered countless times before.

as you take a step forward, a sudden tug on your arm sends you tumbling to the floor. "ow-"

kaiser remains silent, clutching your hand as if it were his lifeline. awkwardly, you place your hand on his shoulder, engaging him in small talk. though he doesn’t respond, he doesn't push you away either. it's progress of sorts, you suppose?

after that, there’s a gradual improvement in your relationship! kaiser appears to be coping better, even seeming happier than before. good for him, you think to yourself.

even so, you figured that your dynamic with each other still wouldn’t change all that much. you’d help him out whenever he needed you to, you’d both continue with your lives as usual. however, fate clearly had other plans.

for starters, he’s much more affectionate in private moments rather than it simply being for the public eye. gone are the days when displays of affection were reserved solely for public appearances. now, it’s like there isn't a day that passes without his presence: resting his head on your shoulder, intertwining fingers, or wrapping his arms around your waist. and then there’s also the random pet names he bestows upon you.

another change would be that kaiser genuinely cares if you’re around or not. attending his matches had become routine to you, necessary to maintain the image of being his supportive significant other but nothing more.

while you had no intention of not going, you couldn't help but notice kaiser's new habit of personally inviting you to his matches. with a smug grin, he would insist on you showing up, emphasising how he wanted you in the crowd, cheering him on. instead of receiving tickets through the usual channels (his manager, mostly), he even took it upon himself to hand-deliver them to you!

with the crowd roaring with excitement, signalling the start of the match was close by, kaiser's gaze finds its way to you. he takes a stride in your direction, his hand reaching out to gently lift your chin to face him.

you meet his eyes, a questioning expression flickering across your features, as he lets out a dramatic sigh. "not even going to give me a bit of luck before i step onto the field? i mean, a supportive partner would offer a kiss for good luck, wouldn't they?" he murmurs, a playful smirk dancing on his lips.

he’s ever so slightly more unbearable like this though. how awful!!

#[ 𐙚 ] CHEQ. — from the heart !#[ 𐙚 ] CHEQ. — writing #[ 𐙚 ] CHEQ. — bllk #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x reader #blue lock imagines #bllk imagines #reo x reader #reo mikage x reader #sae x reader #itoshi sae x reader #kaiser x reader #michael kaiser x reader

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nodusomnis · 22 days

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title: ending scene pairing(s): aventurine x gn!reader word count: 8.6k+ synopsis: a perfect ending, a moment divine. two souls entwined, their destinies aligned.

In the wake of the debacle that unfolded within the confines of Clock Studios Theme Park, Aventurine found himself clashing with a torrent of memories, cascading upon him amidst the tumultuous clash with The Nameless. The encounter with the Emanator of Nihility, Acheron, added another layer to his introspection. He had not anticipated a meaningful exchange with her, let alone receiving the answers to the questions that had long haunted his thoughts, yet remained unspoken.

His mind had been consumed by his mission, driven by a desire to unearth the truths obscured by The Family's clandestine ploys. Yet, beneath it all, lay a vulnerability he had concealed, encased within layers of self-preservation.

Aventurine was a fragile soul, shielded by layers of barriers against the insecurities coursing through his veins. Each layer seemed meticulously etched into his being, a defense mechanism designed to protect his fractured self from further harm. It was as though he had been molded by circumstance, destined to endure until the end.

The specter of Death had loomed large, a tantalizing prospect of liberation from the shackles binding him in place. However, it appeared that fate had other designs, offering him a reprieve, albeit bittersweet. Aventurine had exhausted every resource, staked his final chip and his very essence, to grasp the one elusive prize he coveted above all else—freedom.

The sensation was intoxicating, a long-denied elation flooding his senses as he bid farewell to his former self, Kakavasha. With measured steps, he approached the yawning abyss, a void of darkness and uncertainty where his final gambit awaited. Here, amidst the unknown, his destiny beckoned, and it was within his power to seize it, to forge a new path toward the life he yearned for.

True death, once a tempting prospect, now held no sway over him. He had relinquished its grip on his destiny, opting instead to embrace the unknown with resolve, prepared to confront whatever trials lay ahead on his journey to redemption.

As Aventurine's resounding footsteps echoed through the cavernous space, punctuated by the gentle splashes of water with each step, a voice resonated within his mind, disrupting his thoughts like a sudden thunderclap in the silence.

"Do you believe your luck will never wane?"

Aventurine froze in his tracks. The voice, hauntingly familiar, sliced through the stillness, dredging up memories of chance encounters and shared moments in the Land of Festivities.

It was you, the enigmatic figure he had crossed paths with amidst the opulent walls of a Penacony casino, where the allure of chance beckoned like a siren's call.

In a rare departure from his relentless pursuit of his mission, Aventurine had allowed himself a fleeting indulgence—a dalliance with Lady Luck amidst the glittering lights and frenetic energy of the gambling den. The thrill of the game, the towering stacks of chips exchanged like currency in a high-stakes dance, held him in thrall.

Seated at the poker table, surrounded by fellow players, each with their own tales of triumph and despair, Aventurine reveled in the stimulating blend of risk and reward. The round table, a silent witness to the ebb and flow of fortunes, bore witness to his calculated gambit, his skillful manipulation of the odds.

For Aventurine, winning was not merely a possibility—it was a certainty, as innate to his being as the very act of breathing.

As Aventurine boldly wagered half of his towering stack of chips, each worth a staggering million, the atmosphere around the table crackled with disbelief, leaving his fellow players astounded and speechless. Unconcerned with the monetary value or potential rewards, he sought only the thrill of risk, a sensation that coursed through him like a tempestuous tide, simultaneously exhilarating and unnerving.

Confident in his own luck, he staked his fortune on the game, even with a modest hand of two pairs. Trusting in the whims of fate and the calculated odds, he remained poised, concealing the tumult of anxiety that churned within him beneath a mask of stoic composure.

Yet, beneath the veneer of confidence, Aventurine grappled with the relentless pounding of his heart, the palpitations echoing the intensity of his emotions. Clutching a single chip beneath the table, he clung to it as if it were a lifeline, a tangible anchor amidst the rumpus of uncertainty that threatened to overwhelm him.

"That is an audacious wager, Mr. Aventurine. Are you unequivocally committed to this course of action?" inquired the individual seated across from him, their voice tinged with apprehension.

In response to the incredulous query from his fellow player, Aventurine offered only a sardonic smirk, a silent affirmation of his resolve. "I am certain," he replied, his voice laced with a quiet confidence. "This is but the grand finale of our game—a conclusion befitting of our stakes."

"Is he not one of the Ten Stonehearts of the IPC? The individual notorious for his gambling addiction?"

"Yes, indeed. His name is rumored to be Aventurine."

As murmurs rippled through the crowd, whispers of his identity as one of the Ten Stonehearts of the IPC—a figure rumored to be consumed by the allure of gambling—reached his ears. He’s not surprised if they know him. After all, the influence wielded by the IPC was not to be underestimated, its reach extending across the cosmos, its prominence ensuring the preservation of its power and prestige. Therefore, rather than shying away from the scrutiny, Aventurine embraced the spotlight, reveling in the recognition bestowed upon him by the throngs of onlookers.

With a subtle shift of his gaze, he surveyed the faces of his fellow players, noting the flickers of trepidation that danced across their features. It was a sight that brought him a perverse sense of satisfaction, a reminder of the raw essence of gambling—the interplay of anxiety, anticipation, and despair—that fueled his very existence.

As the tension peaked and the moment of truth arrived, Aventurine and his adversary revealed their cards to unveil identical two pairs, setting the stage for a climactic showdown. However, it was Aventurine's hidden ace that tipped the scales in his favor, securing his victory in the final round and solidifying his reputation as a master of chance.

The audience erupted into gasps of awe and scattered applause, their reactions serving as testament to Aventurine's extraordinary luck and skill. Their admiration only added to the weight of his legend, reinforcing the notion of his seemingly boundless fortune.

“Do you believe your luck will never wane?”

Amidst the flurry of excitement, Aventurine's gaze intersected with where he heard the voice. There you stood, a stoic figure amidst the throngs of spectators. Your expression, devoid of the fervor that gripped the crowd, exuded a palpable indifference that set you apart from the sea of adulation.

For Aventurine, accustomed to the praise and criticism that accompanied his every move, your silent scrutiny held a weight far greater than the cacophony of voices around him. It was as if your gaze alone bore the gravity of a thousand judgments, casting doubt upon his invincible facade.

As you gracefully departed from the scene, gliding through the crowd with an effortless poise, Aventurine felt a fleeting impulse to pursue you, to unravel the mystery behind your statement. Yet, before he could act upon his impulse, the dealer's call snapped him back to reality, redirecting his attention to the present moment.

With a final glance in your direction, Aventurine reluctantly tore his gaze away, refocusing his attention on the game at hand. Though your departure left a lingering curiosity in his mind, he knew that the cards had been dealt, and it was time to play his hand.

The following day, Aventurine ventured once more into the hallowed halls of the casino, his gaze wandered across the expanse of the venue, alighting upon a figure seated at a poker table amidst a horde of eager players. In an instant, recognition dawned upon him, for there, amidst the sea of faces, sat the individual he had encountered the day prior.

Without hesitation, Aventurine strode purposefully towards the table, his curiosity piqued by the unexpected reunion. Never had he anticipated crossing paths once more with you in a city as vast as Penacony.

As he approached, he observed the scene unfolding before him—the table abuzz with the energy of the game, the players immersed in the pursuit of fortune. However, amidst the dissonance of chips clinking and cards shuffling, his attention was drawn inexorably to you, seated with an air of composed indifference despite your apparent lack of chips.

It was the same familiar insouciance he’d seen in your first meeting. How funny.

The mocking taunts of a fellow player echoed through the room, directed towards you with a mixture of derision and amusement. Despite your depleted reserves, you remained unruffled, your countenance betraying none of the desperation that typically accompanied such circumstances.

"It appears fortune has yet to favor me," you remarked casually, your tone devoid of any hint of concern.

A ripple of laughter emanated from your adversary, his jeering palpable as he sought to goad you into yet another round of play, urging you to replenish your dwindling supply of chips. Yet, you met his jests with an inscrutable gaze in the face of his provocations.

Aventurine, with a knowing glint in his eye, couldn't help but chuckle softly at the scene. He was well acquainted with the minds of these gamblers, their intentions transparent as glass. It was clear they sought to deplete your remaining resources, confident in their ability to emerge victorious. Indeed, in their minds, the prospect of claiming more rewards danced tantalizingly.

"They will engage in further play," Aventurine interjected, his voice slicing through the air, commanding the attention of all present, including yourself. The seasoned gambler spared no glance for your fellow players; instead, his focus lingered keenly upon you, a fact not lost on the others.

Interrupting any potential protests, he spoke before you could voice your objections.

"Since it appears they lack anything of value to offer, why not allow me to play on their behalf instead? Care to oppose?" The challenge issued by Aventurine lingered, met with smirks and laughter from the assembled men, their eyes alight with greed.

"Well, well, well... I admire your audacity, lad. The more stakes, the merrier, isn't that right?" Their laughter cascaded like a chorus, oblivious to the fact that in Aventurine, they faced a master amongst masters in the art of acquisition.

"How naive..." you muttered under your breath, earning only a gentle touch from Aventurine atop your head, his actions eliciting a look of incredulity from you.

"Regardless, shall we proceed?"

With the deal struck, the game unfurled as the dealer meticulously distributed cards to each player. You observed with keen interest, your gaze occasionally drifting toward the blonde gentleman seated beside you. Sensing your scrutiny, he met your eyes briefly before offering a sly smile, his actions enigmatic yet intriguing.

Furrowing your brow in silent inquiry, you sought to discern his intentions, but he merely pressed a finger to his lips in response.

"Remain composed and observe," his silent directive seemed to convey.

Resigned to his inscrutable demeanor, you acquiesced, allowing him free rein. As the game progressed, the man who had thus far dominated proceedings wore a self-assured smirk, placing a bid worth half a million credits. The others hesitated, yet one figure, the notorious gambler seated beside you, sees this as an opportunity.

"Ah, now we're truly delving into the heart of the matter," Aventurine chuckled, a spark of amusement dancing in his eyes as he adjusted his tinted glasses with a light touch. "Since you seem to relish in the thrill of risk-taking, my good sir, why not elevate the stakes even further?"

His words trailed off, drawing the attention of all present once more, including yours, earning him a quizzical raised eyebrow. You couldn't fathom what he had up his sleeve, but a sense of impending audacity pervaded the atmosphere.

"If fortune favors you," Aventurine continued, his tone laced with a hint of challenge, "I shall generously double all the chips you currently possess."

Gasps and murmurs break through the assembled spectators at the grit of his offer, whispers swirling with tales of his legendary gambling prowess. But, to you, his proposition came as no surprise. You were well aware of Aventurine's penchant for daring wagers, although the sheer magnitude of this gamble caught even you off guard.

"But," Aventurine's voice lowered, carrying an air of quiet authority, as he plucked a single chip from his side and deftly flicked it across the table to the stunned recipient, "should fortune favor me..."

The chip landed in the bewildered man's grasp, his expression a mix of confusion and apprehension as he gazed back at Aventurine.

"You will forfeit all the chips you've amassed from this individual," Aventurine concluded, his gaze steady and unwavering.

Your eyes widened in disbelief at his bold proclamation, a protest bubbling at the edge of your lips.

"Hey—"

"I am the player at present, am I not?" Aventurine's tone brooked no argument, his gaze met yours, a silent reminder that he held the reins of the game.

With a resigned sigh, you bit your lower lip, restraining yourself from interjecting. After all, you weren't a participant in the game at this moment, merely an observer. And within the confines of the casino, such displays of audaciousness were not uncommon. Still, the realization that Aventurine was willing to go to such lengths to aid a stranger only added to the ever-growing meter of outrageousness you held for him.

The atmosphere crackled with anticipation as the man across the table digested Aventurine's audacious proposition. Initially met with disbelief, a subtle transformation overtook his countenance, the contours of his features twisting into a sinister smirk. A chill of foreboding gripped your senses, a premonition of impending turmoil settling like a shadow upon your consciousness.

Amidst the mounting tension, your gaze darted toward Aventurine, seeking solace in his unwavering composure. His demeanor remained calm amidst the tempestuous currents swirling around you, offering little insight into the hand he held concealed beneath the veil of his cards. With bated breath, you awaited the revelation that would determine the outcome of this high-stakes gamble, each passing moment fraught with palpable suspense.

"Very well, let us lay bare our fortunes," the old man declared, his tone laced with arrogance as he motioned towards the deck. With a flourish, the cards were revealed, their secrets laid bare for all to see.

In a swift and decisive move, Aventurine emerged victorious, his triumph resounding with effortless grace. The cocky facade of his adversary crumbled in an instant, replaced by an expression of bitter defeat as he clutched his head in despair. With a rueful sigh, he relinquished the spoils of his ill-fated gamble, returning to you the chips that had once slipped through your fingers like grains of sand.

As you and Aventurine exited the confines of the casino, the weight of gratitude settled upon your shoulders like a heavy mantle. Despite the reckless nature of his intervention, you couldn't help but feel a surge of appreciation for his timely assistance. Yet, beneath the surface of your gratitude lurked a nagging sense of wariness, a reminder of the perilous waters into which you had unwittingly waded.

"Thank you for your help back there," you offered sincerely, the words heavy with genuine appreciation. Aventurine responded with a disarming smile, though his subsequent words bore the weight of underlying intent.

"Do not misconstrue my actions as mere altruism. I acted with purpose, not without consideration for my own interests," he remarked, his tone tinged with a subtle edge that sent a shiver down your spine. "Surely, you are aware of who I am."

Closing the distance between you, Aventurine's imposing figure loomed over you, his gaze piercing and inscrutable. You felt the telltale twitch of your eyes and the tightening of your fists at your sides, a reflexive response to the palpable aura of danger that surrounded him.

"This is precisely why I avoid entanglements with individuals like yourself," you admitted, your voice laced with a mixture of resignation and apprehension.

Aventurine's laughter rang out, a melodic sound that grated against your nerves. "But in this instance, you have no choice but to engage, do you not? Now, onto the matter at hand – I seek answers regarding your cryptic statement from yesterday."

Your eyebrow arched in bemusement at his unexpected inquiry. "There was no deeper meaning to my words. I merely commented on your inherent luck, having observed your exploits within the casino since your arrival in Penacony."

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you cursed inwardly at the unforeseen repercussions of your offhand remark. Aventurine's scrutinizing gaze bore into you with unsettling intensity, seemingly searching for any trace of falsehood within your composed demeanor.

"Very well, if that is indeed the case, then I have another proposition for you," he declared, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. Your heart quickened at the implication of trouble brewing on the horizon, yet you met his gaze with steely resolve.

"And what might that be?"

"Be my eyes and ears here in Penacony," Aventurine proposed, his smirk widening into a grin that sent a chill down your spine.

The story of your unlikely alliance with Aventurine had begun. If ever the unexpected news circulated amongst the circles of Penacony, many would find it incredulous that someone of his stature, a member of the esteemed Ten Stonehearts, would place trust in a mere stranger. Indeed, to the uninitiated observer, the notion seemed absurd – a contradiction in terms that defied logic and reason. But, for Aventurine, such trivial matters held little sway over his calculated decisions.

To him, trust was a commodity to be traded with caution, its value contingent upon a myriad of factors that extended far beyond surface appearances. In his world, betrayal and deception were the currency of every world, woven seamlessly into his existence. And so, when he extended his offer to you, it was not born of blind faith or naivety, but rather a calculated gamble rooted in the certainty of his own capabilities.

He knew, with certainty, that even if you were to betray him or fabricate falsehoods in his presence, he possessed the keen intellect and astute intuition to discern truth from lies. In his eyes, you were but a pawn in his grand scheme – a pawn whose movements he could predict with precision, regardless of the facades you chose to adopt.

However, to his surprise and consternation, you defied his expectations at every turn. Despite your initial reluctance and the aloof demeanor you projected, you proved yourself to be a reliable ally – one whose resourcefulness and ingenuity surpassed his own assumptions.

How did you gather your intel, he wondered? Was it through mingling with the citizens of Penacony, ingratiating yourself into their midst to extract information like a skilled puppeteer manipulating marionettes? Aventurine pondered these questions with a mixture of intrigue and frustration, unable to fathom the depths of your strategy.

Perhaps it was a sense of indebtedness that drove you, he mused. The desire to repay a perceived debt hanging heavy upon your conscience, compelling you to fulfill your obligations despite your reservations. Or perhaps, you were simply averse to owing favors, unwilling to be beholden to another soul, even one as formidable as Aventurine.

Whatever the reason, Aventurine found himself grappling with the mystery that was you – a puzzle whose pieces refused to align neatly within the edges of his understanding. And though he may never unravel the mysteries of your motivations, he couldn't deny the undeniable truth: in you, he had encountered a force to be reckoned with – a fool, perhaps, but a fool whose strength lay in the depths of your unfathomable resolve.

In the bustling streets of Penacony, amidst the cacophony of laughter and music that permeated the air, you continued your clandestine endeavors as Aventurine's trusted confidant. With practiced discretion, you navigated the labyrinthine alleys and bustling marketplaces, seamlessly blending into the tapestry of everyday life in the Land of Festivities. To the casual observer, you were but another face in the crowd – unremarkable, inconspicuous, and utterly forgettable.

Yet, beneath the veneer of anonymity, you carried out your duties with unwavering dedication and precision. Gathering tidbits of information like shards of broken glass, you pieced together the intricate puzzle of Penacony's underworld, all the while maintaining a facade of normalcy to ward off any suspicion that may arise.

Aventurine, ever the astute observer, commended your efforts with a rare display of generosity, treating you to rounds of soulglads despite your persistent protests. You rebuffed his gestures with firm resolve, adamant in your refusal to be indebted to him once more. Yet, despite your best efforts to maintain a facade of detachment, Aventurine possessed a knack for circumventing your defenses, his genuine concern and camaraderie slipping through the cracks of your stoic exterior.

For Aventurine, whose existence had long been steeped in solitude and mistrust, your presence offered a rare glimpse of authenticity amidst the sea of duplicity that surrounded him. Though he wore the mask of manipulation and trickery with practiced ease, there lingered within him a kernel of genuineness – a flicker of humanity that defied the confines of his carefully constructed facade.

Trusting others had always been a precarious endeavor for Aventurine, a vulnerability he was loath to embrace. To him, every word spoken and gesture made was a calculated maneuver, a chess move in the intricate game of deception that defined his existence. Yet, in your company, he found himself traversing uncharted territory – a realm where sincerity and trust held sway, however fleetingly.

As days transitioned into days, and days into weeks, the bond between you and Aventurine grew stronger, shaped within the crucible of mutual understanding and respect.

The vibrant hues of dawn painted the skyline of Penacony's skyscrapers in surreal brilliance, you stood alongside Aventurine at the Dream's Edge, marveling at the breathtaking spectacle unfolding before you. The scene was surreal, almost otherworldly, for how could there be a sunrise in the Dreamscape—a world where reality and dreams intertwine?

However, amidst the awe-inspiring panorama, a sense of anticipation hung in the air, tinged with a hint of uncertainty. Why had Aventurine summoned you to this ethereal realm, away from the hustle and bustle of waking life, with no other souls in sight?

As you gaze upon Aventurine's countenance, a wave of surprise and intrigue washes over you, for the sight before you is unlike anything you've ever beheld. The ethereal glow of the sun caresses his features, casting a radiant halo around him, as if nature itself conspired to illuminate his presence.

His visage, once adorned with the mischievous curve of a smirk, now wears an expression of profound introspection. Those eyes, usually dancing with mischief, now reflect a depth of emotion you've never witnessed before—a blend of serenity and sorrow that tugs at the strings of your heart.

Gone is the cocksure grin that was his trademark, replaced by a solemnity that seems to weigh heavily upon him. It's as if a veil has been lifted, revealing a side of Aventurine you never knew existed—a side that is raw, vulnerable, and achingly human.

Aventurine stands amidst the whispers of the breeze, his silhouette a portrait of contemplation against the canvas of dawn. His golden tresses dance in harmony with the wind, a silent symphony of nature's serenade. But it's not just the tendrils of his hair that sway; there's a subtle dance in his demeanor, a rhythm of emotions that ripple beneath the surface.

In the soft glow of sunlight, his features are painted with an ethereal hue, casting shadows that play upon the landscape of his face. There's a longing, a yearning, etched in the lines of his brow, as though he's searching for something beyond the horizon, something elusive yet tantalizingly close. His eyes, windows to the depths of his soul, betray the secrets he guards so closely, each flicker and glimmer a testament to the complexities hidden within.

You've been tethered to his side, bound by a debt that intertwines your fates in a dance of obligation and intrigue. Yet, despite the proximity, the enigma of Aventurine remains veiled in mystery. He is a man of many facets, a puzzle with pieces that shift and rearrange with every passing moment. Cunning and unpredictable, he defies easy categorization, a riddle waiting to be unraveled.

Through numerous interactions, the two of you have maintained a strictly professional relationship, focused solely on exchanging gathered information. Neither of you delved into personal matters, content with knowing only the basics about each other. This engagement is a singular occurrence, with no desire to complicate matters further. There's a firm boundary between you, each respecting the other's space and avoiding unnecessary entanglements.

In the midst of a tranquil moment, punctuated only by the soft whispers of the breeze, his voice broke the silence, drawing your focus away from the horizon. Without turning to meet your gaze, he posed a question that seemed innocuous on the surface but hinted at a deeper curiosity.

"What brings you to Penacony? Is it for leisure or some other purpose?"

Your response, delivered with a casual nonchalance, betrayed none of the complexity brewing beneath the surface. "No particular reason. Just wandering, as wanderers tend to do."

As you drew closer to him, mirroring his contemplative stance.. But it was his next words that stirred something within you, a recognition of the carefully guarded boundaries you both maintained.

"You're an enigma," Aventurine mused, his tone betraying a hint of curiosity tinged with respect. "I know nothing of your origins, your affiliations, or even the world you call home. You exist as a blank canvas against the backdrop of the universe."

His observation prompts you to turn towards him, a faint grimace touching your features. It's clear that his words have struck a chord, stirring a sense of curiosity within you that matches his own.

"You went snooping into my background?" Your words cut through the air with a sharpness that catches Aventurine's attention.

"And the idea of me discreetly digging into your background never crossed your mind?" Aventurine's tone carries a hint of amusement.

"I had my suspicions, especially considering your ties to the IPC. Knowing you, you always manage to dig up information to give yourself an edge. But I'll give credit where it's due; at least you're forthright about it, even if it does irk me."

"Right now?" Aventurine raises an eyebrow, his amusement growing.

"Yes, right now.”

"But why can't I detect any anger in your demeanor?"

"Because I'm not one to wear my emotions on my sleeve. I prefer to keep them under wraps," you explain, a sense of guardedness creeping into your voice.

Aventurine's laughter rings out at your refusal, his amusement evident in the glint of his eyes. "Unfair, isn't it? You hold all the cards, knowing who I am, while I'm left in the dark except for a mere name and your claim of being a wanderer. But how about a little game?"

Your expression twists in disdain at his transparent attempt to glean information. You see through his ploy and have no intention of playing along.

"I won't indulge your little charade just to satisfy your curiosity about me. Nice try," you retort firmly.

Aventurine's grin widens as he deftly flips a coin through his fingers, the metallic glint catching the light before he catches it effortlessly.

"Such a shame.”

Once more, silence descends between you, a tense pause punctuated only by the soft rustle of the wind. Then, Aventurine breaks the quiet again with a pointed question.

"So, perhaps you know my origin?"

As you locked gazes with Aventurine, a subtle shift in his demeanor didn't escape your notice. His voice, usually laced with confidence and bravado, now carried a hushed tone, tinged with an underlying tremor that uncovered a vulnerability you had never before witnessed in him. It was a nuance that spoke volumes, revealing a depth of emotion that contradicted his stoic facade.

In that moment, as the weight of his unspoken words hung heavy in the air, your gaze was drawn to his features—the striking contours of his face, the subtle symmetry that bespoke a beauty both rare and captivating. It was a beauty that bespoke his heritage, his lineage tracing back to the long-lost race of Avgins, a people now consigned to the annals of history.

The knowledge of his origins colored your perception of him, for you understood the burden he bore as one of the last of his kind. Avgins, known for their exquisite beauty and mesmerizing eyes, had long been subjected to discrimination and extinction, their very existence a reminder of a bygone era fraught with prejudice and fear.

You couldn't fault him for his choice to conceal his eyes behind tinted glasses, for you knew all too well the scrutiny and suspicion that awaited those who carried the unmistakable mark of their ancestry. In every world where difference was met with disdain, Aventurine's desire to shield himself from prying eyes was not born of vanity, but of necessity—a means of self-preservation in a society quick to judge and condemn.

And yet, even as he sought refuge behind his carefully constructed facade, there was a rawness to him, a vulnerability that transcended the barriers he had erected. In his eyes, you glimpsed the echoes of a lost heritage, the silent lament of a people erased from history, and in that moment, you found yourself drawn to him in a way you had never imagined possible. For beneath the mask of his bravado lay a soul as fragile and ephemeral as the dawn, yearning to be seen and understood in a world that had long since forgotten of the adversity.

"Yes, I do..." Your admission lingers in the air, carried away by the wind that brushes past, stirring the stillness that settled over the conversation. Aventurine's reaction is subtle, a scoff followed by a nonchalant shrug, his gaze shifting towards the towering skyscrapers that dominate the skyline.

"Not surprising," he remarks dismissively.

As you watch him, a faint blemish mars the pristine image you've always held of Aventurine. It's a glimpse of vulnerability, fleeting yet unmistakable, like a small blotch of ink on an otherwise clean canvas. It catches you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless.

But just as quickly as it appeared, the vulnerability vanishes, replaced by Aventurine's usual composed facade as though nothing had transpired.

His sudden question jolts you back to the present, breaking the silence once more. "Do you think life is meaningless?"

It's unexpected, a departure from the usual banter and guarded exchanges between you. For a moment, you're caught off guard, searching for an answer devoid of pretense or artifice.

"Well, if you ask me, maybe it is, maybe not." Your response carries a sense of introspection, reflecting the uncertainty that comes with a life spent wandering the vast expanse of the universe without a clear destination. "I've been traveling aimlessly for many years, letting my feet guide me wherever they please. In essence, I suppose you could say my existence lacks a defined purpose. So perhaps life does seem meaningless."

You pause, considering your next words carefully. "But then again, don't we all have something we yearn for, even in the midst of aimlessness? Whether it's something grand or seemingly insignificant, there's always a longing, a desire to attain or achieve something. And perhaps, in the pursuit of that something, we find purpose."

Aventurine regards you with an inscrutable expression, his eyes betraying nothing.

"What if that something is death?" he poses, his question hanging heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the conversation.

You allow the silence to envelop you, granting it the space to linger between you before offering your heartfelt response.

"If one desires death, shouldn't they cease struggling to stay alive, to preserve themselves? Why endure the effort of self-preservation if death is the ultimate desire? It seems contradictory."

You continue, your words measured yet earnest. "Self-preservation, in itself, suggests a desire to continue living, to pursue something beyond mere existence. And in that pursuit, even if it leads to death, there lies purpose. For what is life, if not a series of pursuits, desires, and aspirations?"

As you continue speaking, Aventurine's attention remains fixed on you, though his mind is a hurricane of conflicting emotions. He finds himself grappling with a sudden surge of questions, an inexplicable urge to peel back the layers of his carefully constructed pretense and lay bare the vulnerabilities he so meticulously conceals.

The landscape before him, though undoubtedly breathtaking to most, elicits a different reaction in Aventurine. Instead of wonder or awe, he feels a deep-seated unease, a gnawing sense of unworthiness that claws at the edges of his consciousness. It's as if he's an intruder in a world to which he doesn't belong, a sentiment reinforced by his own self-imposed exile from the beauty and splendor that surrounds him.

For Aventurine, the harsh realities of his upbringing on a barren, unforgiving world have left an indelible mark on his psyche. He's accustomed to a life of scarcity and struggle, where survival is earned through grit and determination rather than basking in the luxuries of a privileged existence. The opulence of his surroundings only serves to highlight the stark contrast between his own perceived inadequacies and the perceived perfection of those around him.

And yet, despite his inner turmoil, Aventurine's gaze remains fixed on you, drawn to the radiant warmth that seems to emanate from your very being. In your presence, he feels the weight of his self-imposed limitations pressing down upon him, a reminder of the vast chasm that separates him from the world above.

As you stand bathed in the golden glow of the sunlight, Aventurine can't help but feel a pang of envy, a longing to inhabit the same ethereal orbit where you reside. But deep down, he knows that such aspirations are futile, for he is bound by the shackles of his own insecurities, forever consigned to the shadows while you soar amongst the stars.

He is nothing.

He ushered you to this secluded spot, not for another mission or strategy session, but to bid you farewell. The contract that bound you together, the alliance forged through countless endeavors, has reached its natural conclusion. Every detail meticulously arranged, thanks in no small part to your invaluable insights. Now, standing before you, he prepares to embark on the final leg of his journey, a path long contemplated and now irrevocably chosen.

Meeting you, sharing in the trials of your joint mission, has been a rare pleasure. Your presence, marked by spirited banter and unwavering determination, injected vitality into the often grim landscape of their pursuits. Despite the looming risks and the gravity of his objectives, he couldn't help but relish the moments spent in your company.

As he extends his farewell, he acknowledges the uncertainty of future encounters. Though he harbors a wish for another meeting, circumstances dictate otherwise. Your captivating insights and spirited exchanges will be dearly missed, yet he remains resolute in his chosen course, prepared to confront the perils ahead, come what may.

"Well, thank you for your answers. Anyway, I brought you here to let you know that our meeting has reached its conclusion. You've fulfilled your role as my eyes and ears, and now you're free to go about your business," Aventurine stated, slipping back into his old mask—his facade.

You blinked a few times, absorbing his words. Finally, this chapter was over.

"Is that so? I'm finally free," you sighed in relief, stretching your arms with a smile. "Being around you was quite draining."

"It seems I've been a handful, haven't I?"

"Yes, you have. You're insufferable. So, you're ready to part ways then?"

"I do tend to be insufferable, I won't deny that. And to answer your question, yes I am. Thanks to your intel, my plans are set. You've proven quite reliable, considering you're a wanderer."

"Well, being a wanderer does have its advantages. I can gather information without raising suspicion since I blend in with the crowd," you remarked, nonchalantly shrugging.

"You do seem rather ordinary, so you blend well.."

"Excuse me?"

As you leveled a sharp glance at Aventurine, expecting defiance or retort, you were instead met with a sight that stirred a strange sensation within you. His countenance, usually guarded and conniving, softened into an expression of genuine warmth. His eyes, usually veiled with caution, now held an openness that caught you off guard. It was as though a veil had been lifted, revealing a side of him you had never seen before.

His words, spoken with a sincerity that resonated in the air. "How I'd love to be one. To be ordinary," he uttered, his voice carrying a weight of longing and acceptance.

You found yourself speechless, unable to respond to the exposure he laid bare before you. Despite the complexities of his past and the challenges he faced as an Avgin working under the IPC, his desire for normalcy spoke volumes about the inner turmoil he grappled with.

Your own internal conflict is mirrored in the clenching of your jaw, rendering you unable to articulate a response. Yet, amidst the silence, a silent understanding seemed to bridge the gap between you. Aventurine's earnest gaze conveyed more than words ever could, laying bare the vulnerabilities he harbored beneath his mask..

Driven by an impulse you couldn't quite comprehend, you took a step closer to him, closing the distance between you. With a gentle touch, you extended your fingers and playfully poked his forehead, eliciting a look of surprise and astonishment from him. But what followed was even more unexpected—an expression of genuine tenderness gracing your own features, a smile that reached the depths of your soul and offered solace in its warmth. In that fleeting moment, barriers fell away, and you realized that beneath the surface, you and Aventurine were not so different after all.

"You know, if you really wanted to, you could just blend in and be ordinary like everyone else," you murmured gently, finally tearing your gaze away from him. Aventurine, startled, snapped out of his trance.

"Oh, is that right?" Aventurine chuckled.

"Yeah, it's an option," you replied nonchalantly. "Anyway, I should get going."

"So soon?" Aventurine turned to you, surprised.

"Yeah, got some other stuff to take care of, and my debt to you is settled," you explained.

"You wound me," Aventurine feigned hurt, gesturing dramatically. "Our last day together, and you're leaving so soon?"

"You're not seriously trying to guilt-trip me into staying, are you?" you teased.

Aventurine smirked. "Wouldn't dream of it."

"Alright then," you said, increasing the distance between you two as you walked away. Glancing back over your shoulder, you smirked. "Once you're done with your mission, let's meet here again."

"What?" Aventurine was taken aback, still processing your words as he watched you walk away. You stopped, meeting his gaze.

"Didn't catch that? I said, let's meet again after your mission.” you said firmly, facing away from him as you delivered your final words, arm raised in farewell.

“All you need to do is survive.”

As Aventurine watched you depart, his mind swirled with contrasting emotions. Your parting words lingered in the air, a bittersweet reminder of the connection he feared he might never experience again. Despite the gravity of the situation, he remained silent, resigned to the path he had chosen, knowing that his decision to face his final gamble in Penacony was irreversible.

In the depths of his thoughts, a sense of acceptance settled within him. He chuckled softly, a wistful acknowledgment of the irony of his predicament. The weight of his impending fate bore down on him, yet a flicker of defiance burned within his soul.

With a shake of his head, he banished the doubts that threatened to cloud his resolve. This was his moment, his grand finale, and he would meet it head-on, whatever the outcome. As he stepped forward into the yawning chasm of uncertainty, he braced himself for the challenges that lay ahead, knowing that his ultimate gamble would redefine everything.

Survival or death—there was no middle ground. And as he prepared to face the unknown, Aventurine steeled himself for the ultimate test of his mettle.

Let’s meet again, (Name).

Aventurine's eyelids flutter open, a groan escaping his lips as he gradually regains consciousness. The world swims into focus, the familiar surroundings of his hotel room greeting him with muted hues and soft shadows. Yet, despite the comfort of familiarity, a dull ache permeates every fiber of his being, a lingering reminder of the ordeal he endured in the depths of his subconscious.

As he gingerly shifts his weight, Aventurine feels the weight of exhaustion settling over him like a heavy blanket, each movement a testament to the toll exacted by his nightmarish journey. It's as if his very essence has been drained, leaving behind a shell of his former self, battered and bruised by the trials of his own mind.

With trembling fingers, he reaches out, tracing the contours of his hand as if searching for reassurance in the solidity of his own flesh. It's a small gesture, but one imbued with profound significance—a tangible reminder of his resilience in the face of adversity, a testament to his survival against all odds.

As the realization of his newfound freedom dawns upon him, Aventurine can't help but feel a surge of disbelief coursing through his veins. To think that he has emerged from the depths of despair, liberated from the shackles of his past, is nothing short of miraculous. With his ties to the IPC severed, he stands at a crossroads, poised on the precipice of uncertainty, yet emboldened by the promise of possibility.

But amidst the uncertainty, one thing remains clear—Aventurine is free. Free to chart his own course, to forge his own destiny without the constraints of fate or expectation weighing him down. And though the path ahead may be fraught with challenges and unknown dangers, he faces it with a newfound sense of determination, ready to embrace whatever the future may hold.

Aventurine's body protests as he pushes himself upright, the sharp pang of pain shooting through him like lightning. Yet, despite the discomfort, he manages to muster the strength to survey his surroundings, his gaze landing on the figure nestled on the sofa. At first, his mind struggles to comprehend the sight before him—a flicker of disbelief mingled with a hint of incredulity.

But as recognition dawns upon him, Aventurine's eyes widen in astonishment, his breath catching in his throat as he realizes that it's you who occupies the space in his room. The realization sends a surge of diverging emotions coursing through him, a mixture of surprise, confusion, and a strange sense of comfort.

He watches you in silent wonder, your form bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains, your features serene in the embrace of slumber. It's a sight that both perplexes and soothes him.

Aventurine's mind races with questions, each one vying for his attention as he grapples with the inexplicable presence of your presence in his room. Did you wait for him? Why are you here? And most importantly, why him? The answers elude him, shrouded in a veil of uncertainty that only serves to deepen the mystery surrounding your unexpected reunion.

Despite the barrage of inquiries swirling in his mind, Aventurine finds himself unable to suppress the tender smile that tugs at the corners of his lips. In this moment of exposure, your presence serves as an anchor of solace, a comforting reminder that he is not alone in this vast and unforgiving universe.

Nevertheless, Aventurine expressed gratitude towards you. Despite your indifferent demeanor towards him and your aversion to getting involved in troublesome situations, you found yourself in his room, patiently awaiting his return, even though the odds of survival were slim.

Aventurine watches as you stir from your slumber, your movements hesitant yet purposeful as you rise from the sofa and approach him with a sense of urgency. His heart quickens at the sight of you, a mixture of relief and apprehension coursing through him as your eyes meet in the dimly lit room.

Your sudden appearance catches him off guard, the lines of fatigue etched into your features a stark contrast to the serene calmness of your slumber. But, despite the weariness that hangs heavy in the air, there is a palpable sense of anticipation, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken bond that binds you together.

As you draw nearer, Aventurine's breath catches in his throat, his gaze fixated on your every movement as if trying to decipher the thoughts racing through your mind. He waits with bated breath for you to speak, but the silence stretches on, punctuated only by the soft sound of your footsteps echoing in the room.

Unable to bear the quiet any longer, Aventurine breaks the tension with a gentle smile, his voice soft yet filled with warmth. "I didn't expect to see you here," he murmurs, his words hanging in the air like a delicate thread connecting them in the darkness.

You remain silent, your expression unreadable as you stand before him, your eyes searching his face for answers that remain elusive. Aventurine's smile falters slightly at the lack of response, a flicker of uncertainty clouding his features as he waits for you to break the silence that hangs heavy between them.

"Are we just going to have a staring contest?" he jests, prompting a weary sigh from you.

"You're finally awake," your voice was calm but tinged with concern. "How are you feeling?"

Aventurine blinked. "Like my entire body's cramped up, and my head's splitting in two. So, basically, like crap."

"That's because you've been out for weeks. You need to rest."

"Do I really have to when I've basically been sleeping for the whole duration of my coma?" he scoffed, earning another sigh from you.

"What I meant was rest like a normal person. Sleep in a proper bed, not in this decrepit bathtub. It's different when you're not in the Dreamscape," you explained matter-of-factly, rolling your eyes. Aventurine chuckled at your bluntness.

"Are you worried?" he asked.

"No," you replied flatly.

"Really? Then why are you here in my room, sleeping like a log?" he teased, and you grimaced at him.

"I'm only here to keep my word."

"Your word?" His eyebrow arched in confusion.

"When I said we'd meet again."

Aventurine's laughter rings out, breaking the weighty silence that had settled between you like a heavy fog. It's a sound filled with incredulity and a touch of irony, a reflection of the tumultuous emotions swirling within him as he grapples with the gravity of the situation.

For him, the realization is nothing short of staggering—that you, of all people, had placed your trust in him, believing in his ability to survive against all odds. It's a notion that borders on the absurd, given the precarious circumstances that had surrounded your parting, but one that now takes on a profound significance in the wake of your unexpected reunion.

As your gaze locks with his, drawn by the unexpected sound of his laughter, Aventurine finds himself at a loss for words. How could he have ever doubted the sincerity of your intentions, the faith you had placed in him even when all hope seemed lost?

"What's so funny?" you asked, puzzled by Aventurine's sudden burst of laughter.

Aventurine's laughter subsided, and he regarded you seriously. "I never expected this. You always manage to surprise me. Are you that determined to ensure our next meeting?"

Your expression twisted in disgust at the thought, which only served to fuel Aventurine's amusement. He laughed even harder at your reaction.

"It seems you're back to your usual self now," you remarked between laughs. "Well then, I suppose I'll be on my way."

But just as you turned to leave, Aventurine caught your wrist, halting your steps. "Oops! Just kidding. You really don't have much of a sense of humor, do you?"

You shot him a glare in response, but he seemed unfazed, his gaze softening as he spoke with a newfound seriousness. His words carried a weight that belied their simplicity.

"You know, I want to become a wave and run anywhere," he confessed, his voice tinged with a wistful longing. "Because even if I get swept away and get lost, I'm free."

There was a vulnerability in his words, a raw honesty that laid bare his innermost desires. It was a sentiment that resonated with you on some level, stirring something deep within your own heart.

"Even if you get lost again," you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper, "you still will know your way back. You know it yourself, after all, you're still breathing up until now."

Aventurine's gaze softened, his eyes searching yours with a depth of understanding that took you by surprise. And then, almost coyly, he made a request that seemed to hang in the air between you like an unspoken promise.

"Could you stay here a little longer?" he implored, his voice tinged with a vulnerability that debunk his usual confidence.

Aventurine's touch on your wrist sent a shiver down your spine, his thumb tracing a delicate path that seemed to awaken a flurry of sensations within you. Despite your initial instinct to recoil from his unexpected gesture, you found yourself captivated by the gentle caress, unable to tear your gaze away from the intensity of his eyes.

As you met his hypnotic gaze head-on, you couldn't help but acknowledge the sheer beauty that radiated from within those mesmerizing orbs. Up close, Aventurine's eyes were a breathtaking kaleidoscope of colors, each hue dancing in the light like shards of precious gemstones. It was a sight to behold, one that left you momentarily spellbound by its sheer magnificence.

"What? Why do you want me to stay?" you asked, your voice betraying a hint of confusion.

For a moment, Aventurine remained silent, his gaze never wavering from yours as if searching for the right words to convey his thoughts. And then, with a quiet sincerity that took you by surprise, he spoke.

"Have you already forgotten?" he responded, his voice a soft murmur that seemed to envelop the space between you. "You were the one who encouraged me to speak my mind, weren’t you? I simply followed your advice. But truthfully... It's because I desire your company. It's strangely... comforting."

You sighed, feeling the tension in your shoulders dissipate as you contemplated his request. "I suppose it wouldn't do any harm to indulge your request occasionally," you relented, a subtle smile playing at the edges of your lips. "I'll grant you some leeway, considering you appear to be like a patient in bed."

Aventurine's laughter filled the room once more, a melodious sound that seemed to echo with a sense of amusement.

"How lucky I am," he remarked, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he savored the moment. It was as though he reveled in the serendipity of your encounter, finding solace in the unexpected connection that had brought you two together.

As the laughter subsided, he couldn't help but be curious about the circumstances that had led you to his room.

"So, how did you get in my room?"

Your expression turned thoughtful for a moment, as if pondering how best to explain. "Oh, I met this Doctor called Veritas Ratio.”

As Aventurine chuckled at the absurdity of it all, he couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected twists and turns that had led you to this ending scene, here and now, with you by Aventurine’s side.

#honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #hsr #hsr aventurine #aventurine x you #star rail aventurine #hsr x reader #honkai star rail fanfic #aventurine fanfic #honkai star rail x reader

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sorchathered · 3 months

Text

Sacred New Beginnings (part 1)

This is a story over the weekend of Mav and Penny’s wedding, you and Bradley had been engaged and it had all gone to shit, with you back in town for the impending nuptials will you find your way back to each other? Or will you realize you were meant to be with someone else all along?

Pairing(s)- Bradley Bradshaw x reader, Jake Seresin x reader

Warnings- drinking, language, mentions of cheating, eventual smut. 18+

Song inspo- I bet you think about me- ts, the story of us- ts, Cornelia street- ts (yes I’m very taylor coded with this series lmao)

You’d begged Jake to keep it to himself, at least until you could get your bearings in North Island and talk to Bradley yourself. It had been 6 months since the two of you split, he’d put his mother’s ring on your finger and promised you a lifetime but it certainly didn’t turn out like either of you planned, crashing and burning before you ever got a chance to say I do. Now you were back in San Diego at the request of Maverick and Penny for their long awaited nuptials and no matter where you looked all you saw was Bradley Bradshaw.

Jake Seresin was your former front seater, the two of you flew a handful of missions together when you’d been stationed here before, you trusted each other in a way most people didn’t, going through countless near death situations will do that to someone. As you stepped out of the airport into the cool night air you could see him leaning against his ridiculous fully kitted Ford F-150, you could take the man out of Texas but he’d be a cowboy no matter where he went.

“There she is! Stormy girl you are a sight for sore eyes!” He scoops you up in a big bear hug and you finally feel yourself relax, tension melting away just being able to be with your best friend like this.

“Hey douchebag, missed you so much” you say punching his shoulder and letting him lead you into the truck, peeling out of the lot and onto the dark highway.

There’s just something about him that calms you down, everyone gets the big bad Hangman persona and while you’ve witnessed it more times than you can count he’s never once treated you that way. Being around him now feels like home and you need that more than ever knowing the heartache that’s bound to seep into what should be a fairytale weekend. You wring your hands nervously, you know you need to ask but you don’t want to pop the happy bubble you both are in. Time to rip off the bandaid.

“So please tell me you kept your damn mouth shut Jakey, last thing I want to do this weekend is cause a scene. Just want to watch Mav and Penny say I do and head back to Florida with no casualties.”

He frowns at you from across the console, mussing your hair with his hand, he loves having you back here, nothing has felt quite the same without you in his daily life. He knew you’d want to know about he who must not be named (yes Jake considers Bradley to be the Voldemort in your story, no he won’t apologize for it) but he had hoped you’d give yourself some time to adapt first.

“I promise darling, haven’t said a word, hand to God. We will make this weekend a blast and send you on back without a hitch, so long as ol’ Rooster keeps his nose clean we shouldn’t have an issue.”

Just hearing his name causes your heart to lurch, you’ve done so good about avoiding him; blocking his socials and refusing to stalk any of the daggers insta’s for pictures of your former lover.

“How is he?” You say quietly, inspecting your hands in your lap now, refusing to look up for fear that Jake will see your tells; he always does though.

He looks at you with furrowed brows, he wasn’t ready to break your heart again, so he rattled off a bare bones list of info you were looking for, not willing to succumb to the rumors floating around that would only rile you up. The last thing you needed was to spend the weekend drowning in what went wrong and what could have been.

“Recently got promoted to lieutenant commander, got a dog a few weeks ago, no I don’t know if he’s dating anyone and no I wouldn’t tell you if I did. We aren’t doing this to ourselves you hear me? You didn’t do anything wrong and self preservation isn’t a bad thing. Now you must be starving so let’s go get you some In and Out to celebrate my favorite girl being back home.”

Across town in a little craftsman style house by the beach, Bradley Bradshaw is pacing his halls. Mav asked him to be best man and he’s determined to make this speech perfect, but every time he tries to sit down and write out the words describing true love and destiny all he can think of is you. The two of you had been so happy, but then he *had* to go and fuck everything up. He knew you were the one from the minute he met you; all sharp tongue and attitude, truly the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. It wasn’t easy to get you to come around, you’d made it a rule not to date in your squad but somehow he had broken down your walls, when a particularly dangerous mission left him with substantial injuries you’d been paralyzed with fear. If he was just a friend like you claimed then why did it feel like your heart would explode if you never saw him again? The two of you danced around each others feelings for weeks after until one night of partying at Phoenix and Coyote’s you’d kissed him.

A year later he was standing on the beach with roses and Carole Bradshaw’s wedding ring asking you to be his forever, you’d said yes before he could even finish talking; fully confident in the choice you were making. Standing in his house now, no wife and no family he couldn’t help the tears that spilled down his face, regret flooding his senses at how he’d let it all fall apart.

He let his hubris get the best of him, he was the best at what he did, always making sure he went the extra mile to prove himself; constantly fighting living in Goose and Maverick’s shadow. So when a mission came up and you and Jake had been chosen, he’d felt deflated; why hadn’t he been picked? What made Jake the better pilot? What made you more qualified? He went to higher ups to plead his case, never once thinking about the aftermath and how his choices in this would affect you. Needless to say it ended badly, you and Jake being grounded and Bradley flying the mission, someone had let it slip at the bar one night that he’d intervened, costing you an important promotion opportunity and choosing his career over you.

You’d felt betrayed, how could you trust him to be your life partner if he couldn’t even support you in your career? You’d requested an immediate transfer, packed your things and left the ring in your shared home, a note briefly explaining your reasoning and that you’d never wanted it to end this way. He had ruined everything, tried to convince Jake to give him your new number but Hangman could be ruthless when he wanted to be. Refused to help in any way and made sure Bradley knew that he’d been the getaway car, he would always choose you and your happiness unlike Bradley who’d chosen career over love.

Bradley hated him, but he knew he couldn’t fault him for his decision. If he’d just given that level of care when it counted he’d probably still have you, instead of an empty house and a head full of what ifs. He’d been a terrible fiancé, sure he’d doted on you and always told everyone you were his everything, but he also loved attention. So he’d let girls at the bar flirt sometimes, make excuses that it was just his personality and that he didn’t mean anything by it because of course you were the only one for him. But he’d dulled your shine to lift himself up far too many times and he knew deep down he didn’t deserve a second chance. Giving up on his speech for the night he poured another scotch and made his way to bed, there was no mental preparation on earth that would make any of this easier.

Friday morning came bright and early, you stumbled your way through Jake’s apartment letting the smell of coffee carry you to the kitchen. He’d left a post it on the carafe, telling you to be ready by 6 for drinks at the hard deck and you laughed, some things truly did stay the same. Six pm rolled around all too soon and you were dressed in your favorite sundress, hair and makeup set to perfection and Jake pulled the two of you into the lot of the beloved navy bar. Pulling you from your thoughts he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“If you start feeling uncomfortable you just say the word and we’re out, no muss no fuss. Just relax and enjoy tonight with our friends.”

You smiled up at him, grateful that he always seemed to know what you needed to hear.

“Come on Tex let’s get in there and celebrate our friends.”

The bar was closed to only friends and family tonight, everyone near and dear to the happy couple congregating for their rehearsal dinner. Stepping inside it was like being transported back to the past; sounds, smells, everything was the same as it had been when you left. Jake goes in ahead of you, keeping an eye out for a certain mustached aviator but as you both made it to the bar the general consensus was that he hadn’t made it yet. You greeted Penny and Mav with hugs and congratulations, both so glad that you could make it. Mav caught your eye as you ordered a drink from Jimmy, and you knew what he had to say before he even started.

“He-“

“I’m sure he does Pete. I wish it changed anything, but it doesn’t. This is your day, you don’t need to waste it worrying about the past, I’m ok I promise.”

He just wanted his godson to be happy, you knew that. But it wasn’t that easy, too much time had passed and you were uneasy enough thinking about having to see him tonight. So with a squeeze to his arm and a smile you made your way across the bar to the pool tables and your former squad.

Rowdy and full of mischief, that’s the best way you could describe them, whooping and cat calling you as you crossed the threshold, enveloping you in hugs and remarks at how you’d been missed. Phoenix sidles up to you now, bumps her hip against yours with a Cheshire Cat grin, the two of you had never lost contact during the past 6 months and you were grateful for another person looking out for you tonight.

“I’ve missed you cutie! It’s just not the same around here, still can’t believe you left me to take care of the kids by myself.” You both laugh at that, looking towards your boys now as they play fight and place bets at who can kick the others ass at pool, knowing without a doubt that Jake will take the winnings.

“It feels good to be home Nix, I didn’t realize just how much I missed everyone until I got here. Florida is nice, I love the group I have there but the daggers are my family.” You trail off, trying to suppress the tears threatening to leak from your eyes.

She pulls you in for another hug, kisses the side of your head. “It’s going to be a good weekend buddy, I can feel it.”

Bradley’s late. He knows he should have left earlier but he’d been dragging his feet. Mav had texted to tell him you were here and he had to pull over on the highway to empty his stomach. His nerves are shot, pulling the bronco into the lot with shaking hands he attempts to pull himself together, knowing you are just inside has him feeling faint.

“Get your shit together Bradshaw, don’t lose your cool.”

He sucks in a deep breath and opens the door.

After grabbing a beer and getting two pitiful sympathetic looks from Penny and Mav, he turns towards his group and lays his eyes on you. It’s like a punch to the gut, you have always been breathtaking but after having only the memories on his phone to look at he knows for sure they pale in comparison to the real thing. His feet begin moving of their own accord, brain hasn’t quite caught up to what he’s doing and it feels like a magnet is dragging him towards the one place he has longed to be. You are arm and arm with Coyote, animatedly telling him a story with sparkling eyes and Bradley is falling in love all over again. He skirts the outside of the group, settles in to a seat next to Bob and Fanboy hoping he can keep from startling you. But you feel his presence because of course you do, and he can tell the moment your energy shifts. You keep looking at him in the corner of your eye, arms wrapped tightly around yourself and it breaks his heart. His view is obscured by Hangman all too soon, leaning in to the table to catch his eye.

“Rooster”

“Hangman”

“We aren’t gonna have any issues tonight are we?” Jake asks with his signature smirk and lazy southern drawl, it’s charming to some but to Bradley it’s like nails on a chalkboard.

“I’m not here to make things uncomfortable bagman, just here to fulfill my duty to Mav as best man. Y/N is a big girl and doesn’t need a babysitter, if she wants to talk to me I’m happy to listen to anything she says, I’d be an idiot not to”

“You’re an idiot either way Bradshaw but if you make Stormy girl cry tonight you’ll be showing up to the ceremony tomorrow with a black eye, just keep that in mind.”

“Understood.”

Jake blinks back the shock, didn’t expect Bradley to be amenable towards him at all. They have avoided each other at all costs in social gatherings ever since the split, Jake knew nothing good would come from stirring it back up and Bradley looked like a kicked puppy most of the time. Shrugging it off, Jake nods to the group at the table and heads back to where you are, encouraging hand on your shoulder. He’d be damned if someone ruined your night, so instead of letting you wallow he scooped you up to pick a song on the jukebox and took you to the dance floor. Spinning you and reveling in your giggles and bright eyes, it almost made him forget that he wasn’t supposed to look at you the way he was now. He’s been so good about keeping it together all these years, making sure to have a date to keep him occupied when you were cuddled up to Rooster and firmly planting himself in the friend zone. He knew that’s what you needed and he’d always go above and beyond to make you happy. Even if it meant he couldn’t have you.

You have no idea how long you’ve been here, speeches have been given and far too many shots have been had; the room is too hot and slightly spinning so you make your way outside for some fresh air. He’s there of course, smoking a cigarette and watching the waves. Looking him over now you can see the little changes, he’s not as bulky anymore, face and torso are definitely thinner than they used to be. He looks tired, to the bone judging by the dark circles under his eyes and the way he seems to slouch in on himself, no longer the larger than life persona he used to project. You think for a moment you should go back in, but as he flicks the used up cigarette into the wind you are both face to face, pain clearly etched in his features as he takes you in.

“Hi.” It’s all you can make out, you think of how ludicrous it is that after 6 months of heartbreak the best you can scrounge up is a measly hi.

“Hi Storm, it’s good to see you.”

“Y-yeah it’s good to see you too, it’s been a while.”

He runs his hand over his scarred chin, looking you over and it almost looks like he might reach out for you but he thinks better of it.

“I’m sorry Bradley- I can’t do this, I know what you’re gonna say and I feel it too but it doesn’t change anything. We’re the same people we were 6 months ago, and love isn’t going to fix it.”

You were trembling, tears pouring down your face and Bradley couldn’t stand it. He’d broken your heart and let you go, but he’d never once stopped thinking of you. Just two steps forward and you could be back in his arms, and he thought of Mav’s saying “don’t think, just do.” So he closed the distance and pulled you into his arms, your beautiful face cradled in his hands as he wiped away your tears.

“Baby, my sweet sweet girl I know I fucked it up, and I’ve spent every day of the last 6 months thinking of what went wrong. I don’t deserve it; I know that but please even if it’s just for tonight let me love you.”

You didn’t know if it was the alcohol spurring you on or the fact that you’d missed his touch so much it physically hurt, but pulling his lips to yours felt like the easiest decision you’d ever made.

You heard the door swing open behind you and someone cleared their throat, causing you to jump backwards out of his grasp, moment over as quickly as it had begun. You spun around to find Jake, eyes full of anger directed right at Bradley and then he looked towards you; disappointment clearly etched in his features.

“I couldn’t find you, Payback said you’d gone outside so I came to make sure you’re alright.”

You feel your cheeks redden with embarrassment, you had promised yourself you wouldn’t be alone with Bradley and yet here you are less than 24 hours later letting him kiss you.

Jake is still staring you down, you shift a little feeling extremely small between the two people you love most.

“Everything’s ok Jake, let’s uh- let’s go home ok? It’s late and I’ve had more than I should have.” You grab at his elbow to steer him towards the lot to the truck, steely gaze still focused on Bradley but he lets you move him, starting a fight isn’t going to fix a thing and he knows more than he’s let on. Maybe it was time to play his hand and let you know just how much of a piece of shit your so called “Prince Charming” really was.

The ride back was eerily quiet, tension flooding the cab of the truck while you spent every second overthinking. Why had you let it get that far? You’d done so good, it’d been half a year without any contact and you’d folded *so* fast, it was so embarrassing. Ugh and for Jake to be the one that found you?! You knew he’d be pissed and expected a thorough lashing but he didn’t say a word. Just stoically stared at the road, no smart ass remark to be found as he white knuckled the steering wheel. He pulled into the drive and bolted for the door, didn’t even stop to let you out like he normally does. Taking a deep breath and mentally preparing for a long ass night trying to drag his feelings out, you made your way into his townhouse.

He’s nowhere to be found when you step inside, probably holed up in his room so he won’t pick a fight; you know the routine fairly well. He hates hurting your feelings so he shuts down and lets himself cool off before he talks to you, normally just acts like nothing ever happened because he’d rather not bring it all back up again. But when you go to check his bedroom he’s not there either; door ajar and completely devoid of Jake. Finally you head to the back porch, he’s there slumped in one of the lounge chairs, already cracked open another beer and staring down at his phone, determined to look anywhere but at you.

You plop down into the chair next to him, knocking one of your knees with his, hoping if you needle him enough he’ll tell you what’s wrong.

“Jakey”

“Don’t. Don’t do this right now Y/N, just let me be before I say something we will both regret.”

You know you should just let it go, but the harshness in his tone is so out of character but frankly you’ve had enough of everyone tiptoeing around you.

“No.”

“No?”

“No I want to do this now, what is it that you aren’t telling me? You seem to have forgotten that I know you better than your own mother Seresin and I can tell when you’ve been holding back. You looked like you wanted to beat Bradley into the ground earlier and I know I screwed up and let him get to me tonight but im a big girl Jake I can make my own mis-“

“You didn’t make any mistakes though!” He boomed, causing you to jump in your seat. “ you’ve spent this whole time blaming yourself for leaving, for not communicating but you have NO idea. This was never something to blame yourself for and the fact that you let him back in tonight knowing what I know makes me SICK.” He’s never had an outburst like this with you, chest heaving and shaking hands he can’t seem to stop, he knows it’s all about to bubble up but he can’t stuff the secrets back down.

“What do you mean, what you know? Jake what am I missing?” You whisper softly, you have a sudden glaring realization and it feels like everything is crashing down, it can’t be can it? You need him to say it to confirm but you wish the earth would swallow you both up; everything changes if he says what you think he will.

“He cheated on you, a month before the mission, and he thought he’d gotten away with it but apparently Fanboy caught him and Mirage fucking in the hard deck bathroom. He agreed not to say anything, but when you left she suddenly started showing up more, he wasn’t even trying to hide her y/n! Everyone knew he was taking her home after nights at the bar, and Fanboy couldn’t keep it in anymore so he told me. Bradshaw was jealous of your success, he took the mission away from you and to really stick it to you he fucked a fellow squad mate behind your back. As far as I’m concerned he’s dead to you, he has no right to come crawling back and you deserve to know it all so he doesn’t take advantage of you again.”

It all made perfect sense now, Bradley had had one too many late nights at work claiming he was shooting the shit with Mav, never interested in taking you to bed like he had been before the mission talk started up, but you’d chalked it up to stress. Always making excuses for him, assuring yourself that he wouldn’t dare cheat because why would he have given you his mother’s ring? He’d told you he wanted a love like Goose and Carole had, promised he’d love you forever. Of course he’d lied, he’d always been more concerned about his career path and his accomplishments, any time you did something of merit his congratulations always seemed tinged with something sour, but he was happy for you right? He loved you right? Now you didn’t know for sure.

You reeled back at the realization, all the puzzle pieces fitting together to make a heartbreaking story, and you felt a surge of nausea come up quickly rushing to the side of the yard to throw up. You could feel Jake’s cool hand holding your hair back, the other rubbing circles into your back telling you to breathe. He’d always been a safe haven in your life, steadfast no matter who he was seeing at the time. You came first to him, your friendship and partnership in the air like an unspoken vow between the two of you. You were being hit with one revelation after another tonight, and you jerked away from him suddenly; throat dry as the desert as you quickly made your way inside to the sink to rinse out your mouth.

“Hey hey, talk to me honey. I’m sorry, shit I’m so sorry you had to find out like this; I should have never let it get this far but you seemed happy in Florida and I didn’t want to open old wounds. Please Stormy, look at me baby I need to know we are ok.”

Now he’s the one wringing his hands, Hangman is never nervous, he’s always larger than life and the most confident person in the room. He looks so boyish now, standing in the dim light of the kitchen, the fear on his face so unnatural on his handsome face.

You couldn’t deny that he was beautiful, you’d always seen the way he attracted the attention of everyone in a room, like the definition of the word gorgeous come to life or the hero on the cover of a romance novel. Just classically handsome, and yes he was smug and he knew just how good he looked but he’d never put on any kind of mask when it came to you. Let himself be vulnerable, trusted you would keep his secrets and never make fun of him for his faults. Now looking at him in the quiet of his home, you realized that Bradley may have physically cheated; but maybe he wasn’t the only one that blew up your relationship. Some part of you from the day Jake Seresin had walked into your life had always belonged to him. Admitting it to yourself now was jarring; how long had you let yourself think he wasn’t everything to you? You found yourself terrified and excited at the thought, suddenly hyper aware of how close he was to you, knowing that if you crossed that line with him tonight you’d never be the same. You tilted your head up to look at him, reaching a hand out so he could close the distance, and watched him relax into your touch knowing you weren’t angry with him.

“Stormy-l-“

“Jake…Do you love me?”

He goes cold at the realization, oh God you had figured it out. He’d tried to suppress it for so long, but obviously with the clarity that had been gained tonight you seemed to be able to see the truth. He’d always been in love with you, but decided that having you in his life was more important than getting his feelings out so he’d gallantly put them aside. When he’d found out the truth about Rooster he’d been unmoored by the whole thing. How the hell could anyone ever hurt you like that? What kind of moron has the perfect girl and destroys her happiness? But he’d let you go, knowing you needed to run and find yourself in the aftermath; Jake was just grateful he could continue to be a part of your life in whatever way you needed. But oh God you knew now, he could see it on your face and since it had been a night for truth and honesty he told the consequences to fuck themselves, pulling you into his arms and pressing his forehead to yours.

“I could deny it, and we could just go back to the way things are if that’s what you need. We can continue this weekend like we have been and I’ll let you go back to Florida. Because you matter too much to me to be selfish with you, but oh angel I want *so* badly to be selfish. So you tell me what you need and I’ll do it.”

He’s so open, pouring his heart out to you and you can’t look away, his bright green eyes searching for any kind of reservation on your part, and when he doesn’t see any he grins that perfect lopsided grin of his, the one that makes your heart grow ten sizes. It’s not a rushed or sudden clashing of teeth and tongue, it’s a slow movement of lips molding together, hands mapping each other in a way that’s never been allowed before. It takes your breath away and as you gasp he slides his tongue against yours, reveling in the little noises you make as you grasp at the collar of his shirt, the need to have him closer overwhelming. After a while with the willpower of a god he pulls himself back from you a little, stroking your cheek and chuckling as you stagger forward trying to chase his kisses. He tilts your face to look at him and he’s warm all over, it’s everything he’s ever wanted and he has to tell you before he lets it get too far.

“I do Y/N, I love you. I always have baby. I want it all with you kid, and I know it probably feels sudden, but I can’t lie to you; I want everything with you. I’ll wait as long as you need because I’m in this no matter what, I don’t think I could stop if I tried.” He says with a watery laugh, and you realize he’s got tears in his eyes.

You are pretty sure you turned into a puddle on the floor, arms and legs feel like jello as he holds you up between himself and the counter. You could agree that yes it was sudden, hell you’d just let Bradley kiss you less than two hours ago, but you couldn’t deny that in all the times you’d kissed Rooster it had never felt like this. How were you ever supposed to go back to the way things were? Did you even want to? The thoughts were swirling around in your head now and he could tell you were lost. So he kissed you once more, just a featherlight peck and then stepped back from you.

“We’ve had a lot of big reveals tonight baby girl, how about we take a beat and sleep, let tomorrow figure it all out for us.”

He was right of course, it has been an overwhelming evening and you two should probably look it over with fresh eyes, so you let him lead you down the hall. He thinks you’re going to head to the guest bedroom but you surprise him, stepping into his bedroom and closing the door.

“Stormy, we can’t- not tonight honey you and i are wrung out-“

“Shhh, we aren’t doing anything tonight Jake, just hold me ok? I need to be close to you.”

He peels off his clothes and lets you change into one of his T shirts, tangling his arms and legs with yours as you snuggle up into bed. Drifting off to sleep, not knowing if he hears you, you whisper to him

“Jake I think I love you too.”

Jake Seresin Masterlist

Tagging- @attapullman

@bobgasm

@mamachasesmayhem

@roosterforme

@pinkdaisies1106

@angelbabyyy99

@nouis-bum

@djs8891

@purelyfiction

@86laura11

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@floydsglasses

@floydsmuse

@nervousnerdwitch

@mygyn

@jessicab1991

@its-the-pilot

@dempy

#top gun maverick #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun rooster #top gun hangman #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun fandom

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churipu · 3 months

Note

Hi can I request the jjk men (toji, yuji, yuta, sukuna) with an s/o who doesn’t show any emotions?? If you do thank youu. <3

JJK MEN + "NO EMOTIONS" PARTNER 𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖

featuring. toji fushiguro, itadori yuuji, yuuta okkotsu, sukuna ryomen x reader

warnings. cursing, soft and ooc toji and sukuna :(

note. hi hi nonnie :( sorry for the very late update to your ask — uni has been busy lately, but i promise all my inbox is going to be emptied, even if it takes long.

TOJI FUSHIGURO. he tries to make you show emotions — teasing you, annoying you, anything that could make you be at least a little emotional; whether it is happy or sad (kidding, he wants you to be happy all times).

toji doesn't actually mind. but he wanted you to be more reactive of his teasing, because he didn't get the point of teasing if you weren't angry at him. instead of you being angry, or telling him that he should stop, all he got was a nod and an "it's okay".

so the top of his bucket list was to break down this emotionless wall of yours.

preparing a snack for both you and toji at movie night, you spent your sweet time in the kitchen. waiting for the popcorn to cook, when suddenly he stomped inside, boldly asking you, "what the fuck do we have for snacks?"

seeing you flinch in surprise, toji awaited your answer. ready to receive a mouthful of angry words, but all you did was stare at him with those beautiful doe e/c eyes of yours — and you meekly said, "popcorn."

the male's gaze softened as he reaches his hand out to you, "don't ever let me talk to you like that ever again," he pulled you into a warm embrace, "got it?"

you nod, "okay."

he never does that again.

ITADORI YUUJI. opposites attract. opposites attract. opposites attract. i said what i said. yuuji finds you amusing, especially the way you're always so unbothered about . . . everything? he asks himself how you're able to do that, and tries to find out the anatomy behind it. which ended up leaving him more clueless than ever.

you get a cut on a mission? you were just okay. you get hit by something that wasn't directed at you? okay. you get insulted? okay. it was okay, okay, and okay with you.

although, the male is a firm believer that even you — could feel hurt sometimes. after all, you are still human, right? so he's always the one telling people off for you, even if you tell him that it's not needed and that you were okay. yuuji doesn't believe in that.

"hey, piss off — don't say that about my partner." yuuji glares at a male, eyeing him up and down in menace.

"yuuji, let's go," you grabbed the back of his collar and pulled him away from the scene, and yuuji was still giving out stink eyes to the same male, motioning his finger across his neck like a threat.

even if you didn't manage to express it, you were very very thankful for him. because he is right. you do feel hurt at times, but it was something you hear a lot so you don't bother.

YUUTA OKKOTSU. honestly, he gets pretty intimidated at first. he's always so fidgety around you — it's pretty funny. but when he actually got to know you, yuuta's a little surprised that you could crack out jokes (unknowingly), and everyone ends up laughing . . . except for you.

he's really attracted to you. and rika, well, she wasn't the keenest on knowing that (she tried to hurt you) — but yuuta was there to tell her off nicely. rika still didn't like you at all, she tolerates you at times, but after a mission with yuuta, where you found yourself in a position of taking a blow meant for him. rika still hates you (not), it's getting there, she didn't want to kill you. that's progress.

"why did you do that?!" yuuta ran towards you, grabbing your upper arm, pulling you up.

". . . do what?" you asked nonchalantly before wincing out in pain.

and i guess, ever since then, yuuta has been stuck to your hip. he gets really excited to see you, even if you don't look as excited. but still — something about you attracts him, which eventually leads to the both of you dating.

still the same, you barely show any emotions. barely. that was also progress, with him, you could actually be honest with your feelings. but with anyone else? big no.

yuuta feels very honored. protects you. tells rika to protect you. he's so in love with you.

SUKUNA RYOMEN. oh, he despises it a lot. this man, he isn't satisfied if he doesn't get a reaction out of you — which he doesn't. most of the time. at most, you're going to brush him off and walk away, which he deemed as "being angry", but he's just embarrassed because it's not often someone brushes him off just like that.

kind of like a love language. he teases you to show affection, but when you don't react. it's like a punch to the gut, like you don't acknowledge his love for you.

but sukuna would never say that out loud.

despite that, you also had a way of showing love to him. it's not one of the 5 main love languages, but it works for him. sukuna pretends not to know, but he knows. and he secretly loves it.

you always. always without forgetting a day, scribble down on a post it note and leaving it somewhere that sukuna always notices. whether it being on the fridge stuck to a magnet, on the kitchen island, on the coffee table in the living room, by the corner of the bathroom mirror, by the snack cabinet. sukuna could always find at least three in a day, randomly stuck around.

and on the note, it would just be a random "i love you" or a cute doodle of animals holding a heart or a flower for him. he didn't ask you why you do it the first few times and just goes along with it, secretly keeping them all in a secret place where he makes sure you weren't going to find out.

"why'd y'keep leaving these random notes everywhere?" sukuna grunted.

"why? should i stop?" oh, sukuna was actually a bit mortified at the thought of not finding anymore notes specifically made for him, so he could only be silent, "doesn't matter what you think — i like making 'em."

oh, thank god.

he never questions you on it ever again in fear that you'd actually stop.

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e-vay · 10 months

Text

A scene from @beeextraordinary123's story “What Was Stolen”

If you haven’t read it you absolutely have to go do that right now! Mama Evay gives you permission to call out from work or avoid soccer practice to go read it!

It is the most devastating, romantic, DELICIOUS story I’ve read in SO long and the first time I read it all the way through (to the latest chapter, it’s not finished yet) I honestly read through it in an entire day uninterrupted because I couldn’t set it down! I wish I could draw every. single. scene. but hey here’s a start anyway.

Also -- Please do me a favor and view this on desktop when you get a chance. I put a lot of details in this and you lose it on mobile (d'oh!)

Bee, I eagerly await your next update so I can swoon and cry ugly tears on end! (๑☆ꇴ☆๑)))))

#my art #what was stolen #beeextraordinary123 #sonamy #sonic the hedgehog #amy rose #sth #sonic trash #WWSFanArtSpoilers

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katyatalks · 1 year

Text

Animedia 2022/12 - MP100 III Interview with Hoshino Takanori ENG

“Serizawa, the kouhai who holds respect and affection for Reigen” & “Reigen Arataka, the senpai of Serizawa’s life”

Animedia 2022/12 holds a short interview surrounding Serizawa’s relationship with Reigen. Below is the full English translation:

��

Q: Hoshino-san, as Serizawa’s voice actor, in what ways do you feel Reigen has a senpai-ish nature, or a senpai-ish charm?

A: Reigen-san has an element to him where he isn’t very good at leaning on others. There’s something charming about that awkwardness. I think you could see that as him being dependable or having a firm character.

Q: Could you please tell us about a scene that you feel exemplifies Reigen and Serizawa having a good senpai / kouhai relationship?

A: I thought it was amazing when Serizawa was shocked by episode 1’s “Rice Grain Big Bang!”. Reigen announces his special move without an ounce of embarrassment, Serizawa gives an intense response to it. 100%. Full points.

Q: At last the long awaited season 3 has arrived. There are many people who eagerly await new episodes each week. What should we look forward to? It looks as if much like seasons 1 and 2, some heart-trembling events will unfold…?

A: Naturally, each person associated with Spirits & Such will go through their own growth, their own conflicts… which one should I say… there are certainly some heart-trembling events, perhaps I should choose this. It wasn’t just once or twice that I came close to tears during rehearsals and recording sessions.

Q: At this current point in time, how would you say Serizawa feels about Reigen?

A: “He doesn’t assume or pass judgement on me, and no matter what, he supports me… he’s amazing… even though he’s younger than me… compared to him, I…” I think it’s something like this - he holds Reigen in high regard and uses that to work on himself.

Q: Please say a few words for our readers and the Serizawa fans looking forward to coming episodes.

A: Season 3 is full of moments where everyone at Spirits & Such feels lost, chooses, and moves forward. You won’t want to avert your eyes at all until the season ends, so please watch as each episode airs. Please enjoy each broadcast!

—

*敬愛する = quite literally ‘to respect and love’.

#mp100 #mob psycho 100 #my stuff #reigen arataka #serizawa katsuya

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bokuroskitten · 2 years

Text

᯽⸱៰ ͘ ࣭⸰ 𖥔 ͙ࣳ Who's Little Sister? ; Pt. 2

Warning: NFSW 18+ MONIRS DNI, age gap (Draken is in his late 20’s and owns the bike shop, reader is in their early 20’s in university), fem reader (takemichi’s little sister), crybaby/bimbo reader, angsty in the middle, Draken is very insecure of his ability to be in a relationship, slight exhibitionism (Draken fucks you while on call), multiple cream pies, messy make-outs, oral (m!receiving), mating press, squirting, lots of praise, aftercare, lots of pet names, it gets soft and passionate at the end,

Word count: 9k ish 😳

Authors note: The long-awaited part 2 of “Who’s Little Sister.” I put my heart, soul, and pussy into this piece. I think it's my favourite thing I've ever written in all honesty, it very much encaptures how I think Draken’s and I’s relationship would start. God, I love him so much. It’s also the first time I've written anything remotely angsty though, and I can’t tell if it's lame or not LMFAO. Please, let me know what you think. This piece was also due for a collab, Messy Messy collab hosted by @keilily that is weelllll overdue, so I truly do apologize for the wait, Im a perfectionist at heart, especially for this piece. Constructive feedback, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

extra note: Listen to “Nothings gunna hurt you baby.” By Cigarettes After Sex during the last scene. It’s Kenny’s and I’s selfship song and help inspired me for the ending <3

“Draken-Kun, are you coming tonight?”

“Oi, Ken-Chin, get off the phone if you’re just gonna ignore us.”

“You good, dude?” Mitsuya piped up, his own voice a little muffled due to a sewing needle between his lips but nothing like Draken’s.

“Oh yea, fuckin peachy–” Draken breathed in response, his huff coming out as a soft laugh when a bit of sweat started to roll down his temple.

“K-Kenny, Kenny please– Please–!”

“O-Oh! Please, Ken–!”

And he loved every second of it.

“Wanna cum, needa cum again–!” you pleaded with him, nails digging into the muscles of his flexing biceps. He nodded in agreement, his own voice becoming to horse due to the sheer squeeze of your pussy. Although his pace started to get sloppy he still fucked into you, one hand slithering between your sweaty bodies in order to massage ruthlessly at your clit.

He presses a smooch to your lips before easing himself out of you, both of you wincing softly from the loss of contact. It’s only when he pulls out completely and his softening cock falls against his thigh that he realizes just how big of a mess the two of you made of yourself and the sheets. It makes him swell with pride, a grin slowly curling on his lips.

You’ve come a long way, from the sweet girl who was just learning to cream on his cock to the messes you’ve made on his bed on the daily.

Man knew he was in heaven.

His chest tightened up, crease forming between his brow. Boyfriend? When did that become his title?

“Kennnnnny~” You snapped him out of his thoughts, though his brows stayed furrowed. “Hurry! The mess is only getting bigger over here.”

“You called me your boyfriend–” His voice was blunt, which took you by slight surprise. A little pout formed on your swollen lower lip as you subconsciously squeezed at his wrist.

“Well, yea–”

Plus, he was fucking you every chance he got.

“You don’t have to be so mean–”

“Hey–”

“Hey, don’t be like that (Y/N), you don’t even have a ride–”

“Gunna call Michi.” You slipped out of his grasp by tucking yourself out from under his hands, bending to grab at your clothes scattered across the ground.

“Don’t care, wanna go home.” Your muttering had gotten softer, ready to slip into the bathroom and shut the door right in his face.

Teary-eyed, shrunken in. Scared. Were you scared of him?

Why was he mad anyway? Why was any of this really a big deal?

“Fuck—“ His emotions boiled over into anger, face red when his fist connected with the drywall. A crack formed in the white fall, his knuckles taking on a deep purple almost instantly as he pulled his clenched fist back to his side. Instead, he let his forehead rest in the dent he just made, thoughts spiralling, making his heart pound in his chest.

Had he really just done that? Made a big deal over nothing? Put his hands on you? And for what?

You called him your boyfriend… was that really… so wrong?

Was he really so set on “not being a sister fucker”, did he really care so much about what the boys thought, what people said about him, that he was willing to let you go?

It had been a week.

“Are you okay? Please, we need to talk.”

Radio silence. The message was left unread by you. He even sent another the day after, just a quick message but a little more firm than the last.

“Don’t shut me out like this.”

You laughed just like he did. Were you laughing right now?

“Hey–”

“I wanna talk to you.” He took another step, a tentative one. He hated how your eyes were already getting a little glassy. “Let’s just talk, sweetheart.”

“Don’t wanna talk, Ken.” There was that familiar shake in your tone, the one he had become very aware of. You were just like your brother in so many ways.

His sweet little crybaby.

He could have hissed, chest getting a little tight. He hated the way that nickname sounded coming from you.

“I know, I know baby and–”

“Do you not wanna be my boyfriend? I thought you liked me.”

“I do like you–”

“Why not?” You were being blunt again, words bordering on angry as you sniffled. The first few tears finally fell and Draken wanted nothing more than to wipe them away.

“Well to start, there’s your brother–”

“I don’t care what Michi thinks!” You groaned it out as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I wanna be with you, Ken–”

“But–” He really hated that he couldn’t seem to find the right words.

“What are you so afraid of?”

“I–” His words were shaky, and finally broke the intense gaze the two of you were sharing as he looked down. “I dunno.”

He never wanted to see that ever again, not on you.

“I hope I’ll still be around when you figure it out.”

You hadn’t come back to the shop yet either, he had a feeling you’d never come back.

“Ya know m’working–”

“Well, you sound just delighted to hear from me~” Mitsuya hummed, chuckling when he heard Draken’s grunt from the other end of the phone. Mitsuya was organizing threads by colour when he spoke. “Come over tonight?”

“I don’t feel like partying,” Draken answered back right away. What he meant though was that he didn’t wanna go in case Takemichi was there because then he would only remind him of–

“It’s not gonna be a party doofus, it’ll just be us two.” Draken made a look of disgust, more so at the insult than anything else. “Just come.”

“I have shit to do here–” He was trying his best to get out of this, but if anyone could see through Draken’s bullshit, it was Mitsuya.

“You’ve locked yourself in that damn shop for the past week, I know you can make a little time to go out. Let Inui close tonight.”

“Nah, it’s my night.” It wasn’t.

“Bet you haven’t even showered.”

“Absolutely buddy.” Mitsuya was chuckling softly, rolling in his chair to pull back up to his sewing table. “See you at 7, doofus.”

But not without a shower first.

“Would you look at that, he showered.”

“So, what's got you fucked up?”

“What?” Draken said with a short laugh, his eyes staying glued to the tv screen.

“You only get all solitary like this when something is really bothering you, so–”

“Nothin’s up, m’good.” Draken simply grunted, which quickly turned into a scowl when Mitusya passed him for first place in the game. “Quit distracting me.”

“Is it Takemichi’s little sister?”

“What about her?”

“You were seeing her–”

“I was not.”

Now it was Mitsuya’s turn to laugh, a hearty one too that only made Draken’s brows furrow further. He pulled his glasses from his face, sighing out as he shook his head.

“You think you’re so hard to read, but you’re not.” Mitsuya kept talking before Draken could bark at him. “I know you kept seeing her after that night.”

“Okay, so?” Draken wasn’t sure why he was getting so defensive, maybe it was because it pissed him off that Mitsuya knew him better than he knew himself.

“So, did you two break up?”

“Watch your mouth man–”

“Sure, it was a bad breakup,” Mitsuya spoke with a simple shrug of his shoulders, looking at Draken’s pained face over the lip of his bottle. “But it didn’t stay bad, did it?”

“Guess not…” Draken murmured. It didn’t. He didn’t lose his best friends, he didn’t even really lose Emma. After time apart and some growing up, the two had gone back to speaking terms.

“So, let yourself be happy, dude.”

“But she’s another little sister–”

“Yea you have a type.” Mitsuya couldn’t help but laugh, especially after Draken sent his controller flying at him. Mitsuya thankfully caught it, holding a hand up in defence. “Relax! Im joking… The boys are gonna bug you about it, but Draken, who the fuck cares.”

“I hate you, you know that?” He mumbled to Mitsuya, which only made him laugh out loud in response. He clinked his bottle up against Draken’s.

“Love you too buddy. You should really make up with her.” Draken eyed Mitsuya over the lip of his beer. “I assume you said some dumb guy shit to her.”

I’m sure if she didn’t think you'd treat her right, she woulda left.

“I’m such an idiot.” He spoke, and it was Mitsuya sleepy agreeing with him on the couch beside him that had him laughing all over again.

You.

“Hey.”

“Hi, Ken.” Just the way you say his name makes his heart flutter a little. He moves to the side, opening up the small compartment on his bike that’ll allow you to put your books inside.

That and the fact that his hands seemed to be holding yours tighter than usual.

He wanted you to be that comfortable again.

“Don’t be dumb like that ever again Ken.” Your voice waves and he knows you’re about to cry, but he doesn't stop you from speaking, if anything, your shaky words only make him hold you tighter, a fond smile coming to his lips. “Don’t leave me like that again. Next time, just talk to me. I-I know I’m younger and inexperienced b-but I know what I want and that's you–”

Oh, how he missed that sweet, sweet sound.

Surprised and panicked. Was he moving too fast, did you think he was just using you in your vulnerable moment? Had he really fucked up so soon again–

“Oh fuck—“

Yea, he was never letting you go again, ever.

“You’re gonna be the fuckin death of me.” Draken chuckles breathlessly, and the little glint in your eyes tells him you would have smiled had your lips not been preoccupied. He kept his hand gentle on the back of your head as you slowly took more of him, your tongue flattening out against his underside. His head tilted back in a groan at your steady pace, the warmth of your mouth making his skin prickle with pleasure. His fingers curled in your hair just a bit, enough to hold him back from jerking his hips into you, make you gag–

He’d save it for another time.

“S’okay, we’ve got plenty of time to make it fit, keep going.” He encouraged, and you listened, head continuing to bob faster, sloppier. Draken could feel your drool dribbling down his shaft and onto his balls and it made him shiver. It didn’t help that your ass was up high, practically swaying like an excited little puppy just to be sucking him off. Swearing under his breath a moment as his balls suddenly felt all too tight, he pulled you off his cock, the pornographic pop of your lips making him grunt, you whine. The string of drool connecting your swollen lips to his cock was thick, and when it snapped onto your chin Draken could feel himself getting lightheaded.

“K-Ken–”

“Good fucking girl.” The slap of his hips into your ass resounds throughout the room, squelching soon coming from between your bodies. In this position his cock nuzzles your sweet spot, seeming to reach down deep, into parts of you that you didn’t even realize existed, and it quickly has you falling apart, babbles freely spilling from your lips, tears wetting your hot cheeks. Draken is quick to kiss them away, his fingers tightening around yours as he puffs hot pants along your face.

“I love y-you Ken, love you so much, Kenny–”

Draken is usually more responsible than this. Then to let you two doze off without a proper clean-up. But feeling your soft heartbeat against his, your fingers still lost in his hair, your lips pressed right up into the crook of his neck and puffing soft ait, he just couldn't bring himself to let go. He didn’t want to let go now, or ever. Keeping you here, wrapped in his embrace, he was certain that you’d be there tomorrow morning too, with that beautiful smile he had fallen stupidly, hopelessly, in love with.

Fuck it. He was taking on the little sister fucker title with pride.

“Kenny, your hand is sweaty.” You murmur, trying to hold back your laughter when he shoots you a glare, pulling his hand away from you and dramatically rubbing it along his jeans.

“Fine, just won’t hold your hand. brat” He grumbles, and that sets you over, wrapping your arms around him mid-walk to press small kisses along his collar bones.

And that was you, beaming smile and all, with your hand held tightly by Draken’s, who couldn't seem to make eye contact with anyone.

“Hi Michi~ Hi everyone! What are ya–”

“Finally.” Mitsuya was the first to mutter, leaning back further into his spot on the couch. “Chifuyu, you owe me 20 bucks, told you they’d come out today.”

“No fair!” Chifuyu blurted out, grumbling when he reluctantly pulled bills from his pocket. Pah and Peh were the first to start laughing, clinking their beers together.”

“Wait, you knew? How?” Mikey questioned Mitsuya, who triumphantly took the money from Chifuyu with a laugh of his own. Kazutora was even starting to crack up, hiding his smirk behind his beer.

And despite all the commotion, Takemichi sat dumbfounded, eyes glued to yours and Draken’s intertwined hands. When he did finally speak, it only made the group that much rowdier.

“Well, what the fuck is this–”

“Time for another punch,” Baji said with that signature grin of his, basically hoping from his spot on the couch.

“Wait wait!” You said, your pout only stirring the pot further. “No one is punching anyone! We’re–”

“We are dating,” Draken said, eyes a bit narrowed as he spoke. “We’re dating, Takemichi, I wanna date your sister, and I’m gonna.”

There was another round of silence in the room, but it didn’t last, not when Pah mumbled under his breath.

“Classic sister fucker–”

“But you’re already dating, have been a while no…?” Classic Mitsuya, stirring the pot and making everyone act up yet again.

“Now why would you say that you ass–”

“C’mon Michi, I’ll punch him again for you, one good punch like last time–” Baji was punching at the air for emphasis.

“Sister fucker behaviour,” Peh said with a shake of his head, only making Pah laugh harder.

“He’ll treat you right.” You looked at Mikey, who spared you a small smile and a pat on the head. “Draken–”

“I know!” You responded happily, eyeing him as he held Baji back, the nerves he was feeling earlier long gone. You took a bite of the Taiyaki and giggled.

“I can’t wait to be with him, forever <3 !”

member of: @tokyometronetwork @hanayanetwork

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers fanfiction #tokyo revengers smut #tr fanfic #tr fanfiction #tr smut #tokyo rev fanfic #tokyo rev smut #tr draken #ken ryuuguji #ken ryuuguji smut #draken smut #draken x reader #draken x you #draken x y/n #ken ryuuguji x you #ken ryuuguji x reader #fem reader

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yandere-writer-momo · 7 months

Text

Yandere Baki Short Stories: Paparazzi

Yandere Hanayama Kaoru x Idol! Afab Reader

Author’s note: this is a social experiment and a bit different than what I normally write. If it takes off, I’ll write another part to it

Buy me a coffee? 💕

“Cause you know that, baby, I… I’m your biggest fan, I’ll follow you until you love me.”

Slam! Hanayama slammed the door open when he finally made it up to his room. His eyes nervously glanced around to make sure none of his subordinates followed him here.

Once he noticed no one was around, he scurried into his room and quietly shut the door behind him.

Hanayama Kaoru had a secret, the type of secret he’d kill anyone if they found out. Hanayama was a wota and he was obsessed with a pop idol by the name of (your name).

And today, he was able to get Kizaki to buy her latest merch drop… a poster. Hanayama carefully unwrapped the cling wrap off the poster so his eyes could admire the excellent photo of his oshi. She was so pretty…

Hanayama glanced at his bedroom walls that were covered in postures and various collectible merch. He didn’t have any wall space but he hasn’t put any postures on the ceiling so that should work. Honestly, that made it even better.

Hanayama grabbed some tape off his dresser and got to work. The posture now hung on his ceiling so he could admire his idol’s magnificence before he went to sleep and when he woke up. Perfect.

Hanayama flopped onto his bed, his arms clutched the body pillow of (your name) in his arms. He’s had the biggest crush on her since high school…

Hanayama closed his eyes and reminenced the moment he first heard her music when he was younger… it was when one of his classmates loaned him their ear buds and her music played. (Your name) wasn’t very big yet, she just came onto the pop scene. But her voice was what drew him in.

Hanayama rushed home that day and told Kizaki to buy him (your name)‘s CDs. That was the start of his journey of being her biggest fan.

Now Hanayama was 25. He tried to have a few relationships but he couldn’t tear away from his idol. Not even when he bedded other women. (Your name) was always on his mind. Hanayama felt like he was being disloyal to her… even though (your name) probably didn’t even know his existence.

Hanayama wanted her more than anything. Despite his stoic exterior, he was full of emotions… but only for his idol and his handful of friends.

Hanayama shot upright in his bed in realization. He almost missed her interview today! Today, they were going to get (your name) to talk about her ideal man and Hanayama could not miss it. And how would he know that? That’s because Hanayama paid this specific interview station to ask his question because he had submitted it for years. He need to know…

Hanayama turned his tv on, his large body scrunched up into a ball. His arms held the body pillow close to his form for comfort. He was a bit afraid of what she’d say… what if he didn’t meet those standards? Would he be able to move on and live a normal life?

Hanayama silently watched the interview. His eyes sparkled as he watched the young woman smile and wave into the camera, her soft voice soothed him… how could someone be so pretty?

“Despite being a foreigner, you’ve really made a name for yourself, miss (your name)!” The interviewer beamed at the young idol, her smile never left her face.

“I couldn’t have gotten this far without my fans.” Hanayama almost squealed in excitement when she made a little finger heart to the camera. She was so cute! How could someone be so cute?

“Now this is a long awaited question for you, miss (your name).” The interviewer smiled at the young woman. “One your number one fan has been dying to know.”

(Your name) giggled, which made Hanayama’s heart soar. This was it! He would finally have his answer soon…

“And what do they want to know?” (Your name) smiled ever so sweetly, she bat her eyelashes a bit. Hanayama nearly fainted on the spot.

“What is your ideal man, miss (your name)?” The interviewer asked, which made (your name)’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Oh wow… I don’t think I’ve ever been asked that on such a big platform.” Hanayama blushed at how flustered (your name) was. Gosh his idol was so cute…

(Your name) took in a deep breath. “I like a man who is well dressed and preferably taller than me…” (Your name) smiled sheepishly before she continued, “I think id like them to be strong to, I’d like to be carried like a princess.”

Hanayama stopped breathing, his whole body trembled. Well dressed, tall, and strong? That was him… he was her type.

“Carried like a princess?!” The interviewer laughed which only made (your name) more flustered.

“I always dreamed of that… I’d like to be taken care of like a dainty little doll.”

Hanayama rose up from his bed and pumped his fist in the air. His body filled with excitement. He was her type!

Hanayama would care for her and carry her around everywhere if she asked! Whatever she wanted-

Hanayama turned his head to see Kizaki standing in the door way. His right hand man cleared his throat.

“I’m so sorry to bother… whatever this is but you have a letter from the venue (your name) is performing at-“ Kizaki sighed when the letter was snatched out of his hand. Hanayama was such a child sometimes… despite him being a grown man now.

Hanayama opened the envelope and smiled at its contents. He had successfully booked the entire VIP section… which would keep his identity a secret.

“I heard you’ll be dropping new merch tonight. What are you going to be dropping today?” The interviewer draw Hanayama’s attention back on the screen. New merch?

“It’s some limited edition photo cards!” (Your name) smiled at the interviewer. “It’s just a few pictures of me and my group.”

Hanayama turned to Kizaki who sighed. Kizaki could tell by Hanayama’s face that he wanted that book.

Kizaki nervously glanced around Hanayama’s room. Where was he even going to put it?

Hanayama continued to stare at Kizaki until the man bowed in defeat. It was time to make a trip to the store.

“Alright… I’ll go get it.” Kizaki then left Hanayama to his own devices. The yakuza boss turned his attention fully back into the tv.

Hanayama reached a finger out to touch (your name)’s face. What he wouldn’t give to finally touch her in real life…

This was going to be the first time he’d be able to see her in person… he was so excited to see her.

He could not wait…

“Here for the latest drop? I saved you a set, specifically just of (your name). ” The store manager asked Kizaki, which made the older man sigh. The manager chuckled. “You’re such a great dad. You’ve been here consistently for over ten years. Your son must be a huge fan!”

More like a huge pain in the- Kizaki shook that thought from his head. Hanayama was a great leader, he was just a bit… odd when it came to this particular woman. Perhaps that was just Hanayama’s generation of being obsessed with celebrities. It hurt Kizaki’s head to think about it.

“He is…” The manager nodded and handed Kizaki the set of photo cards.

“Well he must be grateful to have you! Please enjoy.” Kizaki nodded stiffly. He hated this so much… “I’ll see you next week for the next drop!l

Kizaki hated that everyone in this store knew who he was. Hanayama was lucky Kizaki looked like a civilian. Otherwise they’d be in a mess if people were aware they were yakuza.

“Have a great day! See you next week!”

Kizaki grumbled a bit. This was an abuse of power… He deserved a raise.

Hanayama nervously sat in the VIP. He had it all blocked off so no one could see him other than (your name) and her group from the main stage.

He nervously fiddled with the backstage pass around his neck as well as the jacket to his white suit. Hanayama made sure to wear one of his best suits, no matter how tempted he was to wear merch. Hanayama had to maintain his ‘cool’ image despite the raging fan from within.

Hanayama adjusted his glasses, a round hand fan tightly clenched in his hand with (your name)’s smiling face on it. This was the smallest pleasure he’d allow himself…

Hanayama’s breath hitched when he saw (your name) get onto stage with her group, her smiled looked even more beautiful in person…

Hanayama watched her start to perform, his complete attention on her jovial form. Hanayama could tell she enjoyed what she did for a living… it’s another reason why he adored her so much.

Hanayama held out his palm and imagined her dancing on his palm. His body relaxed at that thought. He wished they could be together so desperately but their worlds were so very different…

Hanayama froze when (your name) made her way over towards the VIP, his heart drummed in his chest when their eyes locked on one another. Hanayama stood up and automatically went towards the stage. (Your name)’s presence was magnetic.

The world felt as if it stopped when her entire attention was on him while she sung and danced. It was just him and her despite the sold out stadium… him and his idol.

Hanayama flipped over the fan to show off the back of it that said, “will you be my onee-chan?”

(Your name) paused for a second, but then she gave him a smile so sweet that it could make teeth rot. Her hand went up and gave him a finger heart.

Hanayama fell to his knees when she sauntered away to continue her performance. His hand clutched his heart to try to calm the drumming of her heart that begged to burst from his chest to dance with her. His cheeks burned like a fire from how hot they were.

(Your name) was the only woman in the world who had such an effect on the normally stoic man.

After a decade, he finally was able to see his idol in real life… and it was more magical than he could have ever imagined.

Soon… he’d get to speak with her.

(Your name) adjusted her appearance in the mirror of her dressing room. Her body trembled a bit in anxiousness.

When they told her that her number on fan had rented out the entire VIP section, she had assumed they were an older woman or man… not a crime boss.

(Your name) shivered at how scary he was. His face was littered in scars and he was as big as a barn. She had snuck a glance at the receipt in her manager’s hand and found out his name was Hanayama Kaoru and he was twenty five years old.

Despite his mature appearance, he was a year younger than her, which fascinated her a bit. Hanayama seemed like such a no nonsense man… why on earth was he here to see her perform?

“(Your name), your number one fan is here.” (Your name) tried her best not to role her eyes at the sarcasm one of her group members exuded.

(Your name) took in a deep breath and put on her game face. It was fine… she could do this.

(Your name) rose from the vanity chair to go greet Hanayama. The giant man awkwardly stood outside the room, he looked so out of place that it was almost comical.

“Hello, are you Hanayama?” (Your name) smiled at him, his red cheeks and ears made him slightly endearing. He was kind of cute in a way…

Hanayama bent down a bit until he was her height, his large hand scooped up hers and gave the back of her knuckles a tender kiss.

“My name is Hanayama Kaoru,” Hanayama looked up, his obsidian eyes now visible since she was up close. “And I’m your biggest fan.”

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dovithedarklord · 3 months

Text

Stucked - Part 3

You're trapped in a game and a new threat is lurking.

..............................................

Pairing: John "Soap" MacTavish x reader, Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader

Tags: Mentions of death, Mentions of blood and gore, Blood and Violence, Sexual Scenes, Alternate Universe, No use of Y/N, Not Beta Read, AFAB Reader

Trigger Warning: Contains mentions of violence. Please, keep that in mind!

⚠️MDNI⚠️

......................................................

Author's Note

I watched too much Netflix on the weekend, so here is the next part! Everything gets even more complicated.

Have fun! :D

Part 1, Part 2

........................................................

"Simon, it's been so long since we met!" Pam squeals, turning to the new man with such enthusiasm as if she really knew him for years, even though you're pretty sure that this strange figure has never paid his respects in the game until now. And the fact that your partner freely allows herself to be pulled into an overly intimate hug makes your stomach turn. Because you get that visceral feeling of a wolf hugging a deer before sinking its teeth into its flesh and tearing it to shreds.

Because you're not so naive as not to know that the newcomer didn't appear here to help you. And all you have to do is look at Johnny and see that cheerful light in his sky-blue eyes, which are too sincere for the stranger to be just a simple side character. No, this man exudes a different kind of menace, and you've died just enough and been in enough pain to recognize the dark cruelty in those warm brown eyes when they look at you.

You take careful steps closer to the porch, and your grip on the strap of your bag tightens almost painfully, as if the poor fabric could save you, whatever might be lurking to pounce on you. Everything has gone through an unsettling change, as if the game has turned into a fleeting mirage, approaching which, instead of the apparent calm, more horrors would await. And you're sure that whatever this goddamn place is up to, it's trying to discourage you from getting out in increasingly evil ways. Why throw in more and more unusual twists otherwise?

And as soon as you step onto the veranda, the wooden planks creak under your shoes, as if the small voice would want to warn you to be on your guard. Although all your senses are sharpened by the stress, and all your muscles are filled with energy ready to flee, you're still unprepared as Johnny hugs you, even though this is the only certain point since the restart, which takes place in the same way as before. But when he pulls you to his broad chest, and his strong arms wrap around you, your heart skips a beat because like a lightning strike, the memories of last night come back to you. His hot breath caresses your neck, and as the sensitive skin begins to tingle wildly, your stomach shrinks to an impossibly small size, because the burning reminder of his touch smolders in each and every pore of yours. As if every inch he touched in the suffocating darkness of the kitchen would be covered in aching flames at the same time, so that you know where he marked you for himself.

And your body acts almost on its own, because as you feel the hardness slowly coming to life in his groin pressing to your stomach, visceral fear rushes through you, and you want nothing more than to run away. Your hands come to life on their own, and you push the man away from you so forcefully that even he himself is surprised. And as you step back and fix your frightened gaze on him, you see the grim glint in his eyes, with which he stares at you for a moment. And the little voice in your head that tells you, that your rejection brought a much harsher distaste to the handsome face than any pain you caused him yesterday…

But what worries you much more than this is how, from this small movement, reality suddenly freezes around you, and all eyes are settled on you with such tense disbelief that it makes the little hairs on your back stand up. An inexpressible tension spreads over the faces of your two companions, their delicate features for a fleeting moment resembling more closely to the plastic mannequins standing lifelessly in store windows. You see a small muscle twitch on Rebecca's face, as her wide, glassy eyes stare at you, the gentle innocence replaced by something quite terrifying. Her fingers are clenched into fists with such force that her knuckles slowly turn white, and small drops of blood emerge from her closed fingers as her nails dig into her palm. You immediately understand that you made a mistake. Because this game won't tolerate you openly defying it. It doesn't like it when you stop the sick charade prematurely, because you spoil the fun. Fuck.

"I'm just… a little tired, sorry." You stammer, immediately letting the first words, which form in your panic-stricken brain, fall to your mouth, and as the force that painfully squeezes Pam's jaw eases a little, you know that you’ll have to be more careful. "I'm going to rest a little." You pull a weak smile on your face and hate how pathetically thin the voice that comes out of you is.

The ominous shadow that had sits there suddenly disappears from Johnny's face, and as if the game had calmed down at the first signs of your desperation, the tense moment dissipates, and the stomach-churning peacefulness, that weaves through this cursed fever dream like a disgusting illness, takes its place again.

"Come on, Bunny, don't worry about it." Johnny reassures you, and although his tone is perfectly relaxed, you still discover the hard promise behind the harmless words. This small opposition will have serious consequences, and you don't even dare to imagine how this stupid mistake of yours will affect the course of the already unusual events. "Go unpack. Ye'll need yer strength for the party." He says lightheartedly, and the smile that escapes to his full lips makes your stomach jump uncomfortably, because even though the mask of innocence is now resting on his face, you can already read his every little twitch all too well. And from the way, despite the cheerfully upward curve of his mouth, the same sparkle that you discovered in the reflection of the window, when you were trapped by him in that blasted kitchen, moves into his eyes, and fear grips your insides in an icy fist almost immediately. Because there's nothing sweet or charming about the way your every nerve admits that you've been thrust into the spotlight of a predator's undivided attention.

Without a word, you head inside, almost sprinting from the stress that is awakening in your body, like a scared little mouse that is about to flee from the cat. The stranger, Simon, lets you storm over the threshold, and if your mind didn't cling to every last crumb of your sanity so bitterly, you might wonder why he's cooperating so willingly. Everything has a price and nothing happens without a reason. Every drop of peace, every grain of kindness is a deceptive trap. But you want to escape too quickly.

Your pulse is pounding in your ears as you run up the stairs, and you automatically make your way to your room, because even if someone would wake you up from a dream, you'd find it, you've wandered through this horrible house so many times. You almost tear open the door as you rush in, and you slam it behind you with such speed that even you get startled by the impact. But nothing happens, no one comes after you, and when you finally calm down and sure that you were able to hide from the prying eyes, you stumble through the friendly little room panting, just to fall on your bed with trembling legs.

Burying your face in your hands, you try to hold back the start of the scream slowly rising in your throat, and between the wooden paneled walls only the gentle rustling of your breathing echoes, as you try to swallow the air in heavy gulps from panic, to see if your lungs will be filled with peace along with the fine particles of dust. And it takes what seems like a thousand years before the frantic beating of your heart finally eases, and you dance back from the panic attack that the last few hours you experienced so enthusiastically drove you towards. Goddamnit.

Everything went so awfully well, you finally started to understand the rules, you navigated yourself through the maze of clues, you really made progress, but now everything seems to be collapsing like a damn house of cards. You've already died twice without having a chance to progress, and if that wasn't horrible enough, Johnny's strange behavior, his increasingly dirty tactics, and the arrival of the newcomer shake this hellish vision-like torture chamber to its foundations. And now you're not even sure how to move forward, because you feel that every single step you take forward is followed by an even more cruel pushback, and with every minute, every hour, every night you spend here, you drift further away from the way out. Although, you want nothing more. For real air caress your skin, the ringing of the laughter of real people in your ears, and to finally not suffer and hurt, again, and again, and again... Enough!

You run your hands through your hair with a frustrated sigh, and you'd like to pull out the strands in clumps, but you know that it won't make the situation any easier or any less complicated. You have to find a solution because whoever or whatever created this game is meant to keep you here. It occurs to you that maybe this damn place feeds on your pain and fear, and if that's the case, then it makes sense that it’ll do everything it can to drag you into even deeper and more complicated problems, where it can watch you writhe in its clutches. But you are stronger than that. The instinct to survive and the desire for freedom is much stronger in you than to let yourself be trampled. You won't let those killers in sheep's clothing, nor the thousands of dangers lurking around you, deter you from your goal.

And when you feel that enough confidence has returned to your limbs, and your legs can safely support you, then although the trembling of terror is still there in your muscles, the fog of alarm has lifted from your brain enough so that you can focus on planning. You can't do anything else but wait to see how the story develops with the new character, and watch in the background to observe what else changes. You need to gather information, because you're almost certain that Simon is another killer who will try to hunt you down. And thus three possible attackers will be panting in your heels. You have to be careful, and you have to move forward now, because you can't waste another night on distractions. Today you have to get behind the locked door. No matter what it takes.

And that suddenly reminds you that maybe it's time to check the key you got. But as your fingers reach into your pocket, they feel nothing but emptiness, and this makes you rummage through all the hidden corners of your jeans, but the miserable little object still doesn't appear. It wouldn't be the first time that some clues don't pop up again where you previously hid them, which is why, even though you have a bad suspicion in the back of your head, you keep your composure and turn towards your bag carelessly thrown on your bed. But no matter how deep you dig among the many clothes and small trinkets, you can’t seem to find what you’re looking for. And then the dreadful feeling claws into your stomach with an iron fist, and like a deadly poison, fear snakes its way into your cells, paralyzing every single nerve.

You grab your bag with hasty movements, and you turn it upside down so hurriedly to violently shake every hidden knick-knack out of it, that the thousand and one personal belongings hidden inside land with a dull thud on the floor. And no matter how you try to scan through the chaos with your eyes, no matter how you search among your clothes scattered on the ground with your hands, there's no sign of the key, as if it had been swallowed by earth. And your mind immediately tries to produce a series of solutions to somewhat alleviate the bitter taste of despair bubbling up in your throat, but each answer that seems likely pushes you further and further towards hysteria. It's possible that the key has returned to its original location and you have to go get it again, but this is a more solvable problem. But if the key has completely disappeared, it means that the game has rearranged the clues and you can start the pursuit all over again, because you have no idea what the path you need to take can be... meanwhile, one more danger is out to get you. This damn, trashy, vile game!

You feel the weight of realization sinking deeper and deeper into you, and with each passing minute, the situation you have fallen into seems increasingly hopeless. And it makes no sense for everything to turn upside down so suddenly, but no matter how hard you try to put together the puzzle that could help you decipher what caused the tiny little moment that started the whole upheaval like an avalanche, you can't figure out what you could have messed up. But you're sure it has something to do with Johnny. His lustful adventure was the catalyst for the whole unimaginable complication, and since then nothing has been the same. And if everything took a dark turn because of him, then it will be worth keeping an eye on him, because he can only bring more trouble to your head.

But as you look around the room with the confusion of a chased animal, your senses, dulled by stress, still find something utterly alien in the false calm of the neat little room. Because you're pretty sure that until now none of the books resting on the bookshelf had an intelligible title, but only a random sequence of letters on them, which always looked more like a gibberish language that appeared in a dream than any real one. But now you're definitely reading meaningful words on the spines of books, and that makes your body charge towards the bookshelf in a minute.

And when you get closer and read the message that appears on them, you're already quite sure that this miserable game wants to contact you. Because even though none of them would make sense individually, as you turn your head and read the titles outlined on the shabby covers one by one, you quickly understand the message:

Let me help you a little, Bunny :) Open me!

This is the first time that the system has given you such an obvious sign, so even though a thousand alarm bells are ringing in your head, your curiosity is much stronger. And you have a fleeting feeling that you’re not in a position to say no.

You reach carefully for the last book, which encourages you to dig in with a hypocritical kindness, as if something terrible could happen at any moment. And you already know this miserable place too well to know, that behind every seemingly innocent thing, something quite horrible can be hidden, like a demon waiting to break your neck when you are unwary.

But, when you pull out the volume, not a single monster jumps out from a secret corner to take your life, and although this eases the gnawing worry in your stomach, it doesn't completely put your suspicion to sleep. But when you open it, you're greeted with blank pages, and you flip through the wretched book in confusion, until finally a short message becomes visible. And although there are only a few short lines, it's enough to plant the seeds of terror in your mind.

I won't bite, don't be afraid,

I just want a playmate,

And if your blood is shed once more by my kin,

Whose mark has already bloomed on your skin,

Then you'll fall into the abyss deeper,

And you'll stay here with me forever :)

And you don't have to be particularly smart to understand what the game is trying to tell you. Because your trembling hand finds the strange mark on your stomach through your clothes, which starts to burn your skin with almost boiling heat. The lines stare mockingly at you, and you can almost feel how this devilish place laughs at you, as despair takes over you. You can't die by the same hand again, because if you do… you'll never get out. And that's enough to push your already worn-out body to the brink of fainting.

The first searing agony of a migraine-like pain rips into your head, because the hundreds of thoughts echoing in your mind strain uncomfortably against your skull. As if the world would start spinning with you, and you weakly let the damned book fall out of your hands. You unconsciously stumble over the traces of disorder lying on the floor, and drag yourself to the bathroom to freshen up a bit. There are too many new stimuli, everything is happening too fast, and you must not fall apart now. Because this new rule has put a rope around your neck, and it only takes one wrong move to strangle yourself. You can't let this happen.

You need all your strength, as Johnny so aptly remarked earlier. Because you feel in your bones, how the sour disappointment settles into them, that from now on everything will be much more difficult, and you'll have to overcome even more obstacles. Like rolling a large rock to the top of a mountain, which at a careless moment can bring you down with it. But you don't give up. You never give up.

In the small bathroom, you stagger to the sink and, still lost in your thoughts, you open the faucet, so as the frosty fingers caress your skin, the chaos raging in your brain begins to ease a little. Collecting a little water with your palms, you sprinkle your face, and as soon as the cold droplets bite into your skin like small needles, then despite the unpleasant feeling, you repeat your movement, as if this could be the solution to how to escape from the corner where the game is slowly driving you.

And although it doesn't completely remove the stress that is slowly turning into exhaustion from your limbs, the cold sobers you up just enough, that when you reach for the towel and bury your face in the soft cotton, the aching tension that settles on you dulls a bit. You need a plan. Because if that's true, then your hours are numbered. The masked killer can't kill you more than once, because that means you're stuck here. At best, you have two more chances to die with impunity, and then you're racing against time and the game's nefarious moves. But how do you stay alive in a horror game long enough? Anything can cause you to lose, and in light of new developments, you can no longer be sure that the same steps will raise death flags as they did until now. What will happen if you survive the night? The next day dawns, and? What's next? A completely unknown storyline will unfold in front of you and the chances of you surviving it are very small.

With a tired huff, you throw the towel back on its holder, and your mind is too busy with your racing doubts to notice in time that you’re not alone. You only break out of your thoughts when you return to the room and are greeted by someone, who appeared there like a ghost. Silently and uninvited.

You knew at first sight that Simon is not an ordinary character, and as he stands in the middle of a room bathed in the light of the setting sun, and the golden rays wrap his tall figure in a warm embrace, you realize that your intuition wasn't wrong. If you hadn't already seen enough horror hidden behind angelic faces thanks to Johnny, you'd let him lull your suspicions. But you see how menacingly the muscles are bulging under his sweater, and you can immediately imagine that those strong hands, which are now calmly lifting a bra from the hurried mess left behind, could snap your neck in an instant. You're not fooled by the nonchalance with which he raises the black-laced underwear in front of him, because you can see the merciless hunger in those dark eyes, that you encounter in his friend's as well. This man is as dangerous as anything else in this nightmare. And despite all the attractive features that peek out from under the black mask, you know that behind the beauty lies a bloodthirsty intention.

"I see you unpacked." He notes without any hint of unease, and his deep voice hits you completely unexpectedly. It's interwoven with a strong accent, which could even make the words that roll off his tongue deceptively attractive, and the pleasant hoarseness makes your stomach flutters in confusion. Not because you are naive enough to allow yourself to be seduced, but because he speaks to you with such an intimate tone that belies your very recent acquaintance. Although as the story stands, you’re not a stranger to him, but he very much is to you.

And at other times, maybe you wouldn't attach any importance to it, and you wouldn't mind him looking through your personal belongings, because nothing is yours. Not the clothes, not the shoes, not the shampoo, not the shower gel. Nothing. Only objects generated by the game, with no emotion attached to them. Now, however, as he stands there among the clothes scattered on the floor and slowly holds the bra to his face, and despite the mask, he inhales its scent with a deep breath, you feel an uncomfortable tension wash over you. Because he doesn't know that you've never worn that little black piece of clothing before, and probably never will, and that's what makes the situation so bizarre... The whole movement, as he closes his eyes and buries his nose in the fine material, creates something quite obscene, which makes the lump that you just managed to remove cling to your throat with renewed force. What the hell is he doing?

"I was just looking for something." You break the silent moment, hoping that whatever he's doing you'll disturb him enough with your little comment so that he finishes it. But as his eyelids open lazily and he glances down at you from under his blond eyelashes, you regret that you drew his attention to you. The darkness that settles in those brown eyes is unmistakable and makes goosebumps prickle instinctively through your body. Because his gaze makes you feel like he's flaying you alive with it, so that he can get to your desperately pounding heart by the shortest route. And you're pretty sure that he can clearly hear your pulse racing between your ribs, because there's no other way to explain why amused wrinkles gather around his eyes.

"Did you find it?" He continues to inquire unperturbed, throwing the underwear back on the ground. And when his gaze almost immediately falls on the book resting on the floor, the snow-white pages of which shine with bleak emptiness between the walls of the room that are slowly enveloped into semi-darkness, then you know that he didn't discover this little thing just now. Because he studies the barren pages as if he knew the secret it revealed to you.

"I think." You reply carefully, and you follow every change in his face with wary eyes, because at this point, every little twitch can be a sign for you. You need to get to know the new source of danger as soon as possible, because from here on there is no room for mistakes, unless you want to be trapped in this temporary hell forever. And you rather force yourself and defy the instinct of flight that awakens in your muscles, because you cannot run away.

But when he leaves his place and advances towards you with comfortable steps, you have to try with every fiber of your being to stay on your feet, because his slow walk may seem harmless to anyone, but you recognize the unspoken threat lurking in his movements.

"You know, I showed Johnny this house." He suddenly changes the subject, and it takes a few seconds for you to realize what he told you. And as the conversation that you have already listened to dozens of times at the dinner table pops up in your mind, shock appears on your face much sooner than your brain can prevent it. "At first he didn't see the potential in it, but he soon understood that we needed it." He explains, as though he just wants to reveal to you a long-cherished secret. And the meaning behind his words tightens your throat, as if his long fingers were already locked around your neck. And from the dryness that settles in your esophagus, it's like you're sending blades into your stomach with every swallow.

"It's a really nice place." You mumble weakly, because it becomes all too clear, as he stops a few narrow steps in front of you, how huge this man is. He looms menacingly over you, and as you raise your head, craning your neck at an uncomfortable angle, to direct your alarmed gaze at him, it becomes painfully obvious that you won't survive the new threat once it tracks you down. Terrible power flows from each sturdy muscle, and the little voice in the back of your mind immediately tells you that whatever he plans to do with you, you would have no chance of resisting. And this powerless feeling seems all too familiar, as if you've stood in the shadow of this horrifying force before.

"It will be." He agrees with your statement, and your heart skips a beat in fright, as one of his huge hands reaches to your face and gently caresses your skin damp from fear, as if he were afraid that you would be crushed by even a stray touch. And your consciousness drifting to the edge of blacking out is close to breaking... But you don't dare to lose sight of him. "Somethin' was missin' from it until now." He continues, and there is something sickly private about the way his thumb finds your quivering lips and strokes them with a feather-light touch. "But we have already found out what the mistake could’ve been." He adds, and his gaze sinks into yours with such a significant weight that you understand what he means without him saying it out loud. But the realization only causes even more chaos in your mind, because you don't like what he's trying to imply with it one bit. And no matter how much you try to calm yourself down by saying that only the story reveals the secret motivations of your attackers to you, but the doubt is restlessly scratching in your brain, which screams that this isn't what it's about... Because as his palm slowly travels to the nape of your neck and pulls you to his strong body without much resistance, as the thick arms wrap around you and the bitter smell of tobacco creeps into your nose with the vileness of a poison, then every part of you becomes paralyzed. A fictional character can't suggest that they've been waiting for you until now, right?

And as his free hand wanders to your waist and begins to draw small circles there with mocking tenderness, then the foreboding takes over you with an impossible force. Because there is nothing comforting in the way he buries his face in your hair, and the way the burning heat of his body crawls through the disgusting legs of a deadly disease into your cells icy with terror. And everyone else could think of this quiet moment as intimate, even romantic, but you know the dirty tricks of this fucking game better than that. You know a wolf hugged you to himself. And you just meekly let him decide when he sinks his teeth into you.

"Don't spoil the game because I don't want to punish you." He grumbles, and although his voice is barely louder than a whisper, your ears can hear the warning perfectly. And you don't like what he’s suggesting with his words. Because you know exactly what kind of pain he promises you if you spoil the fun. But… isn't that too early yet? Shouldn't he be playing the innocent character? After all, monsters only wake up with the appearance of night... "Now you've found your way home." He states simply, with a conviction that is impossible to ignore. And that one sentence is enough to make the air painfully stuck in your lungs, and a metallic taste escape on your tongue, as your teeth sink into the inside of your cheek, before a desperate scream can break out of your throat. Because now you are quite sure that Simon is not a simple character. He knows what's going on here. He knows you don't belong here. And when, with condescending kindness, he smooths a kiss on the trembling line of your lips through his mask, you already know that he has no intention of letting you get out of here.

"Dinner will be ready soon. Don't be late." He walks away as quickly as he appeared, and as he strolls out of the room, you're left alone with the suffocating pressure trapped between the cozy walls, which slowly drags your overburdened body under its weight.

What do you do now?

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