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#hes turning 33 this spring!!
birdsong-warriors · 2 months
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It's been a bit since I last shared stuff about my kiddos, so here's a very handsome old man. ;v;
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kitten4sannie · 3 months
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ᴅᴜɴɢᴇᴏɴ ᴄʀᴀᴡʟᴇʀ
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ꜱᴇx ᴘᴏʟʟᴇɴ/ʙᴜᴋᴀᴋᴋᴇ ➠ ᴍɪɴꜱᴀɴʏᴜɴʜᴡᴀ
pairing: half orc! mingi x elf! reader (fem) x barbarian! san x goliath! yunho x tiefling! seonghwa
genre: fantasy au/dnd vibe, humor, gratuitous smut
summary: you go on a quest with a group of brutish, questionable individuals. anything for some gold and riches, right? 
w.c: 6.5k ish…..yeahhhh
the world’s longest list of warnings:  alcohol mention/usage, soft/hard! dom party members, brat in the streets baby in the sheets sub! reader, these mfs have a hard-on for social hierarchies esp mingi (he’s a big pervert too hehe), mxm (real homies jerk each other off), monster fucking (mimic box…listen i saw it in a porn one time and its been my dream to recreate it since okay sue meee take me to court!!), five?? some?? idk they made it work somehow, voyeurism/exhibitionism, praise/degradation, pet names, olfactophilia, aphrodisiacs, teasing, vast size differences, size kink, strength kink, manhandling, oral (receiving), overstim, tit play, bulge kink, handjob, blowjob, titjob, all the jobs actually, double penetration made possible with magic incantations <3, creampies, back shots, and facials for everyoneeee !! one for you!! and for youuu~~ also the word cock is mentioned at least 50 times in this one sorry bout that hshjs
a/n: hi ahhhh so this chaotic jumble of insanity is my baby 🥹 and it’s also my very first filth fest fic of the month !!! so yk what that means ;3 go on and strap in for me okay? it’s about to go down frfr <3 this is a sort of sequel to my half orc mingi fic but it can be read on its own! also i’ve never actually played dnd,, i’ve just heard about it from my brother so don’t expect an extremely accurate representation;;; i did do quite a bit of research tho <33 but yeah that being said…. rip reader’s elussy </3
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ᴅɪʀᴛʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ʙʏ ꜱᴛᴇᴇʟʏ ᴅᴀɴ
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ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ
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“Ladies and gents, now this is a quest that’s not for the faint of heart,” your local guild master announced, leaning his heavy forearms on the crowded bar table below him, stroking his long, bushy beard absentmindedly, the wood furnishing of the bar creaking underneath his weight. 
The lively room grew a bit more quiet, some individuals quirking their heads in the seasoned barbarian’s direction, yours included. “With a hefty 1000 gold pieces as your reward, this quest requires you to find and locate the rare lujuria plant, then bring its seeds back to me. Unfortunately for you lot, they’re only found in the abandoned dungeons near Mist Falls. Any takers?” 
At the mention of the plant and location, most of the interested individuals turned back to their ale and friends, resuming their loud, enthusiastic conversations. You, however, couldn’t believe how idiotic the other patrons were. You could do quite a lot with 1000 gold pieces, and being a solo adventurer, you wouldn’t even have to share it with anyone. With dollar signs in your eyes and a spring in your step, you headed up to the busy bar, having to get on your tippy toes and wave your hand around past some of the larger patron’s broad shoulders until the guild master noticed your presence. 
“Now, don’t tell me a dainty little high elf is interested in the quest I just announced. You gonna scare them off with your shiny hair and sparkly crystals?” the older man gruffed, letting out a hefty laugh, before taking a couple gulps from the oversized mug he held within his large, calloused hands.
When you simply stood there with your hands crossed over your lace-covered chest, the guild master set his mug down, his bushy eyebrows raising upwards. “Oh, you’re serious.” He leaned down to your level, cupping his hand around one side of his face, allowing you to smell the ale on his breath. “Do you know why no one likes to go to Mist Falls, little Miss?”
You shook your head, causing the small jewels that dangled from your silky hair to sway a bit. You cupped a hand around your own face, murmuring, “Why does no one like it, Mister?”
“There’s some strange wildlife that frequent the land there. Otherworldly things…things that an elf like you wouldn’t want to get wrapped up in,” he explained carefully, looking over the lens of his glasses to squint at you. “Unless, you’re into that sort of thing, of course.” 
Not understanding what he meant by his vague statement, you shrugged it off, taking his underestimation of your abilities as a challenge you couldn’t bear backing down from. “I’ll take the quest, Mister, and I’ll bring you those seeds.” 
The guild master smiled down at you, chuckling a bit, like you weren’t in on the joke that he was so amused by. “Very well, little Miss.” He handed you the rolled-up scroll, his lips still curled into a suspicious smile. “Good luck with your quest.” 
Taking the scroll, you nodded your head at him, a smug smile painting your own face, as you turned on your heels to leave, reveling in the fact that your levels of commitment and intelligence were clearly in the upper echelons compared to the rest of the idiots that frequented the crowded guild.  
Before you could leave without any issues, a deeply familiar, incredibly cocky-sounding baritone voice interrupted your mental victory dance. “Would you look at that. Gonna handle a dungeon all on your own, eh, princess?” 
You quickly turned your head, your eyes landing on the tall, solid beast of a half-man, half-orc standing with one hand resting on his leather-bound hip, his golden eyes slowly studying your body with an almost nauseating amount of interest. “Mingi…” you sighed, the events of your last few meetings flashing through your brain, the tips of your ears turning a faint red. “Oh, you think I can’t handle a stupid quest on my own either, huh?” 
He shook his head, his shaggy silver hair falling in his eyes, forcing him to swipe it out of the way with his large ringed fingers. “Nope.” His simple response encouraged his equally large, equally intimidating party members, who were hanging out near him, to laugh and chatter amongst themselves. 
Now your hands were on your hips, getting hit by a wave of annoyance, your cheeks burning.  “Watch me.” 
Mingi took a step towards you, just to show you and anyone nearby just how much he towered over you, his lips quirking up into a shit-eating grin, still peering down at your body like he could already picture what you looked like without the form-fitting lace dress that was wrapped around your curvy body like a pretty present, one that he wanted to open as soon as possible.
“With a petite little body like yours?” He reached down to slip a finger into your hair, playing with one of the crystals that adorned it. “Yeah, so small and delicate, like a pretty little fairy, ain’t ya? Those monsters in that dungeon will swallow you whole.”
You might’ve hated Mingi to an extent, but he was good. Good at making you feel tiny and desirable, and so wet, you were afraid he’d be able to smell it from where he was standing. You closed your thighs together slightly, lowering your closed fists to your sides, leaning forward. “I-i’m not a fairy, you dumb orc! I'm an elf! And I don’t need your help!” Just as you turned around to leave, Mingi cleared his throat, making you turn your head back to glare at him. 
He placed his other hand on his hip, letting his weight shift to the opposite side, his head tilting the other way. “Sweetheart, listen, I know you’re very capable of getting what you want,” he mused, chuckling softly at the way your face scrunched up slightly in embarrassment. “But, I’m sure you could use some extra party members to back you up. Me and the boys want to help you. Won’t you let us?”
You gazed at Mingi a little while longer, before your eyes shifted to his friends, first drawn to the most elegant-looking tiefling you’ve ever seen. He had sleek skin that looked like expensive marble, his hair as white as the frost that would cover all the lands during the winter months, his heavy horns ridged and curled into an ‘s’ shape, and black as soot, his thin, pointed tail quietly slithering around in a snake-like motion behind the long black cloak that hung from his pointed shoulders. 
“That’s Seonghwa,” Mingi informed, with his arms folded across his wide tattooed chest. “Doesn’t talk much, unless it’s to cast a spell or call me stupid.” 
Seonghwa’s pretty lips formed a smirk, wrapping his arms comfortably around his slim, corseted waist, his sharp, milky eyes focused intensely on you, like he was peering through you and straight into your soul. 
“Oh, are we introducing ourselves?” someone said excitedly, your eyes following the voice upwards until they landed on the handsome face of the gentle-looking goliath standing besides the tiefling. At roughly seven feet tall, the broad man sported shiny, golden locks, pretty brown eyes, and a tribal tattoo that was plastered on his veiny neck, clad only in a thick pelt that sat comfortably around his solid waist, wearing matching furry cuffs on his thick forearms. “I’m Yunho! I like to get drunk and smash stuff. What do you like to do, elf girl?” The goliath stepped forward to shake your hand, his hand completely encompassing yours, your neck almost hurting from having to look up at him. 
“Hi, Yunho,” you replied, smiling softly, feeling a bit dizzy from your vast difference in sizes. Everything about him was just so big, you couldn't help but wonder what else was too. “I’m Y/N. I like to go on quests and collect gold.” 
“Don’t tell me we’re actually going to help a high elf,” the last party member interrupted in a low voice, sneering, showing off his large, rounded canines when you looked past Yunho to scoff at him. “And an annoying one, at that. I don’t care if she’s fuckable. This is still a waste of time.”
Yunho put a large, warm hand on your shoulder, covering it completely. “Don’t take San’s words seriously, sweet. He bullies people when he likes them.” 
The brooding barbarian folded his arms over the thick, furry pelt that covered his broad upper half, rolling his eyes, a few strands of his wild raven hair falling past his forehead. “Or maybe I just don’t like stuck-up little elven brats, ever think of that, Yunho?” His pronounced eyebrows joined together in a bout of sudden fury. “Huh? Can you even hear me up there, you oversized son of a bitch?”
A faint blush appeared on Yunho’s cheeks, smiling in San’s direction, before looking back down at you. “See? He loves me.” 
You returned his smile with a grimace. “He loves being a dickhead too, apparently.”
“Excuse me?!” San growled, about to walk up to the both of you to prove that he only loved moonshine, his trusty club, and himself. 
Mingi stepped in front of San, waving his hands around exasperatedly, wishing someone presented a dialogue skip option a long time ago, bored of the introductions. “Alright, alright, so are you coming with us, or not, princess? What’s the verdict?”
You rolled your eyes, opening the large entrance door of the guild, eventually letting out a long sigh, glancing back over your shoulder with a pout. You knew you had a slim chance of surviving without them, but you still had your pride. You let out a small hmph, annoyed when they still all just stood there waiting, encouraging you to stomp your silk shoe down on the ground, grumbling, “Ugh, are you coming, or what?”
Mingi and his friends chuckled amongst themselves and elbowed each other, amused by the amount of fiery zealousness your tiny body possessed, finishing their mugs of ale, eventually following you out of the guild and onto the dirt road. 
“Hurry up! I wanna explore this dungeon today, not during the next winter solstice!” you called out to them, already at the forest entrance, tossing your head back in an exaggeratedly annoyed fashion.
The half-orc waved his hand around nonchalantly, despite his large lower canines growing more and more visible the more he began to smile, pulling out a small pair of lace panties that had a familiar design etched into them. “Yeah, yeah, don’t get your little elf panties in a twist,” he chuckled, bringing them up to his face to take a sniff.
Your inquisitive expression melted down into one of horror, then scrunched again, this time pleading him with his eyes. “Mingi…don’t tell me you’ve kept those all this time.”
“Of course I have, princess. In fact, I jerk off with them every chance I can in your honor. I can cum real hard just from knowing I turned a high elf onto orc cock forever. I still remember like it was yesterday,” he sighed dreamily, wiping away a fake tear, like had just said the most romantic sentence even known to orckind.
“I still fuck elves, you twat! I don’t need you or your stupid orc cock!” you argued, turning away so that none of them could see how flushed you had gotten, heading into the forest by yourself.
“That’s a damn lie. You showed up to my hut like three times during the Great Hunt not too long ago,” Mingi explained, following after you, his friends following beside him. “Don’t you remember? I had to carry you home after you passed out from squirting too hard.”
“No!” you shouted from ahead of him, swearing you were going to melt into the floor.
“She’s got elven pride, that one,” Mingi sighed, admiring you from behind. “Anyway, I got her soaked panties to prove it. You want to see them, don’t ya, Hwa?” Mingi elbowed Seonghwa, who just shook his head in disappointment, while he continued smiling truimphantly to himself.
࿏࿏࿏
Your group took on a range of opponents, from skeleton armies to disingenuous slime cubes that you may or may not have fallen into, able to pass through quite a few levels of the dungeon, mostly due to Seonghwa’s spell casting abilities, San’s uncontrollable rage, Yunho’s knack of destroying anything he came in contact with, and Mingi’s axe-wielding skills. Did you want to admit that to yourself? Sure. Out loud? No, of fucking course not. 
You picked off bits of pink slime that still clung to your wet form, grumbling under your breath about how sticky you felt, not even noticing that some of the slime had already absorbed into your skin. 
“Need a little help there, princess?” Mingi mused, reaching down to your shoulder and wiping off some of the slime for you, his fingers tingling once he had done so. 
“I suppose so,” you murmured, standing still so that he could continue helping you, surprisingly not even that bothered when the other members of your newfound party all gathered around you and picked or pulled off the remnants of slime that remained on your body, face, and hair. 
As you entered the next room, all five of you noticed how the tinglyness remained, how it spread throughout your bodies like a gentle ripple effect, your bodies now collectively hot to the touch, though no one said anything to each other — at least, not yet, anyway. 
“A chest!” you gasped excitedly, putting your dagger back into its respective holder and running up to the large, gold-plated chest that sat at the edge of the room, just waiting for someone to open it up and collect its contents. 
“Don’t be stupid, elven brat. Not all chests are filled with treasure. Some of them could be decoys. You know that, right?” San rested the rounded bottom of his ginormous club down onto the dungeon floor, leaning on it, raising an eyebrow at you. “Or do you only familiarize yourself with crystals and orc cock?” 
“Shut up!” You held onto the barbarian’s insult, rather than hearing him out. “You’re just saying that because you want the treasure for yourself!” You got on your knees in front of the chest, muttering, “Selfish prick.” 
“What’d you say?!” San barked, his hand squeezing around the thick handle of his weapon. 
Mingi slung an arm around San’s tense shoulders, smiling as though he was quite pleased with himself. “She’s got a mouth on her, huh?” He met San’s grimace with a shoulder squeeze. “Don’t worry, Sannie. She’s gonna learn the hard way.” 
Yunho walked up beside Seonghwa, lowering himself down to sit on the cool stone ground with a thud, wiping a bit of perspiration that had formed on his forehead. “I’ve been feeling weird since we left the slime room, Hwa. Can you cast a healing spell?” 
“Yeah, me too, now that you mention it,” Mingi called out, rubbing his sweat-covered neck with his free hand, encouraging San to open his own black furry coat, revealing an expanse of sweaty, tan, tattooed skin underneath it. 
Seonghwa nodded his head in agreement, waving his hand around in front of him, manifesting a large glowing violet pentagram into existence, which eventually disappeared after the spell had be casted completely, a faint glow still visible around the edges of your bodies. 
“Mm, I don’t really feel any different…” Mingi mumbled, his hot-blooded body even more tingly than before, starting to feel like he could fuck someone into oblivion right at that moment, even more than usual. 
Once you had opened up the chest, ignoring the subsequent pounding inside your chest and cunt, you were met by a multitude of shiny, gold coins just waiting for you to take. “Holy shit, I’m rich!” 
“You better split that with us, before I split you in half with my cock, stupid elf!” San griped from where he stood, now a bit hunched over, his words slightly slurred, not even fully realizing what he was saying. 
“Wh-what?!” you squeaked, your ears bright red, turning your head to look at the barbarian in disbelief, not even noticing when the chest in front of you began to sprout limbs, a long, slimy tongue slipping out past the gold. 
“I said, I’ll split you open–” San fully dropped his club, which resulted in a resounding thud inside the small room. He pointed an accusatory finger in your direction, blinking at you through his hazy vision, using his other hand to grab at himself through his furry kilt. “–with my big, barbarian cock!” 
Yunho pointed at you as well, wanting you to notice the big monster that was about to have its way with you. “Um, Y/N, you should…” 
“Not now, Yunho, I have to tell this idiot barbarian to suck my clit!” you informed angrily, holding your middle finger up at San, which he returned enthusiastically. 
“Oh, yeah? Then, get your fucking ass over here and sit on my face, you elf slut,” San barked back, sticking his tongue out at you, still holding onto Mingi, appearing drunker by the second — though it wasn’t alcohol running rampant through his body. It was lust. The rest of them were feeling it too. 
“Slut? I’ll show you slut,” you grumbled, about to stand up and give San a piece of your mind, your fist, and possibly your body when the mimic suddenly snatched you up with its long limbs and pinned you to the floor. “Oh my god, what’s happening? What the fuck is that?!” 
San simply chuckled, leaning his back against the cold concrete wall of the small room, trying to cool his intensely heated body down. “That’s a mimic, dummy. I’m sure you can handle it though, since you’re so tough.” 
Mingi looked to his friends, biting at his lip, noticing that none of them even attempted to assist you, more concerned with finding out what the monster was about to do to you. Even Yunho, who was the only one with any semblance of a conscience out of the entire party, somehow couldn’t bring himself to get up, instead answering to the oversized tent that was forming underneath his pelt. 
The mimic pinned your wrists together above your head with one strong hand, using the other to lift one of your legs up into the air, breathing harshly as it studied your slick cunt through your tiny lace panties, eventually licking a long stripe up your body, from your pussy up to your chest, leaving your white garments completely soaked and see-through. 
Trying desperately to free your hands from the monster’s unwavering grip, unable to prevent more slick from leaking out of you with your legs being held open, you angled your head back to look at the upside-down versions of your party, crying out, “Are you fuckers just going to sit there and watch?!” 
“Yeah…we are, sweetheart,” Mingi sighed out, still leaning on San, a few drops of sweat cascading down his flushed face. He dragged his tongue across his teeth, breathing in the flowery scent of your arousal, inhaling so deeply his bull ring shifted slightly. “I’m sure you got it handled. Just tire it out with that wet fucking cunt of yours, will ya?” 
A strong wave of pleasure pulsed through your body at Mingi’s response, looking to each of the members, realizing that they were really just going to observe as you got pleasured by the monster, getting more aroused by the second. What was wrong with you? You would’ve contemplated it more, but any thoughts you had would completely fizzle out once the mimic’s tongue came in contact with your cunt, licking you up and down in a rapid, desperate fashion. Its tongue was so heavy and hot against your pulsing cunt, you couldn’t help but cum within a few minutes, your body going limp. “Fuuuck, oh my god…” 
“Came nice and hard, didn’t you?” Mingi continued to share his filthy words with you and his party, all five of you reacting positively to it. “I can fucking smell it, princess…” His smile twisted into a faux pout, his voice dripping with lust. “That tongue isn’t enough for you though, is it? Mm-mm, not nearly enough. You need cock stuffed inside your tight elven pussy, don’t you, darlin’?”
All you could do was let out a long pathetic whine, your flushed, fucked-our face giving Mingi and the boys the answer they needed. Now that you weren’t fighting back, the mimic lifted your lower half up into the air, positioning you so that its tongue could slither inside you, pistoning it in and out of your willing hole, your upper half hanging upside down, your tits bouncing with each of the mimic’s thrusts of its wet appendage, your writhing body on display for your party members’ viewing pleasure. “I’m…going to…kill you all…for watching…” you huffed out in between moans, drool slipping out past your parted lips. 
Mingi turned his head to share looks with his friends, all of them now dealing with the same almost painful predicament. “Are you all as hard as I am…?” When they nodded, he felt a little less guilty, reaching down to rub at his leaking cock through his kilt, able to feel how stiff it was even through the thick material. He gazed down at you, biting at his bottom lip, holding onto the thick leather of his body harness, trying not to blow his load too quickly. “It feels good, doesn’t it, princess? I can hear how just how sloppy that mess of a cunt is…Do you like the way it’s fucking you senseless with its tongue? Is it filling you up just right?” 
You couldn’t believe just how turned on you were in the moment, hardly about to breathe in between your bouts of pleasure, your body beginning to sieze up when the mimic shoved its tongue as deep as it could go, causing a prominent bulge to form inside your lower stomach. “S-so good, Min, gonna cum again…” 
“Cum for us, baby, that’s it…” Mingi sighed, leaning his shoulder against San’s, noticing how he began to play with his cock through his kilt, doing his friend a solid and reaching over to stroke the base of it for him. 
Groaning underneath his breath, San reached over to help Mingi out as well, the both of them hyperfixated on the way the mimic drank up your juices as though it needed it to live. Seonghwa and Yunho were in a similar position, but instead of answering to their aching cocks, they simply watched on, the visual stimulation clearly enough for them. 
The mimic lifted your limp body upwards so that you were on your knees, with its large, agile tongue fitted in between your trembling thighs, grabbing you by the waist so that it could drag you back and forth along its long, slimy appendage. “Just like that, oh my god, it’s so–fuck–” you gasped, barely able to look at the men that were huddled around you, the new position not allowing you to hide away from their hungry gazes, your body on full display for them. 
With his hand now fully hidden underneath San’s kilt, Mingi nodded his head at you in approval. “That’s my naughty little elf girl,” he praised you in a gravelly voice, groaning at the sensation of San tugging at his dripping cock from underneath his own pelt. “Let me see you cum one more time for us, princess. Can you do that?” 
“Yes, Mingiii, I’ll cum for you,” you whined obediently, reaching down your shiny, wet body to rub your clit around through your thin, soaked panties, unable to keep your mouth closed anymore from how hard you were breathing. 
“What a good listener you are, baby. Look at you playing with your tiny little clit without me having to ask. Such a good elf girl you are,” Mingi continued to praise you, knowing exactly what made you tick, his hand squeezing around San’s throbbing length. 
San let out a higher pitched moan, his body beginning to tremble against Mingi’s. “I can’t believe you–unnh–managed to tame her so easily…” 
“It wasn’t hard, Sannie…fuck– She may be a brat, but she’s a good girl at heart…” Mingi was beginning to fall apart as well, San’s calloused hand continually rubbing along his cock enhancing the pleasure of watching you willingly playing with yourself while you rode a monster’s tongue, his party’s presence filling him with even more warmth. “Cum for us, sweetheart, show us how pretty you are when you fall apart…” 
Mingi’s praise-filled request mixed with the sensation of your puffy clit grinding along the mimic’s slick tongue sent you barreling over the edge, cumming so hard, you saw stars, barely able to grasp at the dagger that still sat inside its holster.
Meanwhile, San and Mingi both began to groan and shudder against the cool dungeon wall, shooting their hot loads onto each other’s hands and the insides of their pelts. Seonghwa and Yunho both coated their own undergarments with white, biting into their bottom lips so hard they just about broke the skin.
They were all so deep in their wells of ecstasy that they hardly even noticed when you let out a war cry and stabbed the mimic with your long dagger, rendering it dead, causing it to fade away in a flurry of sparkly, white dust, leaving a few gold pieces for you to take. 
“I told you I could fucking take care of myself,” you grimaced, shoving your items into a small pouch you had hanging from your upper thigh.
Once the post-nut clarity set in, Mingi cleared his dry throat, scratching at his prickly chin. “I mean, you did defeat the mimic on your own, so credit is due when credit is due, princess. You just used your pussy to combat it…which is just as valid as using a real weapon, don’t get me wrong–”
“Shut it!” you simply yelled, your face so hot, it probably rivaled the surface of the sun, stomping past the recovering men and pushing the next door open once it unlocked itself, wasting no time to enter the last floor of the dungeon where the supposed lujuria plant was said to grow. 
“Let’s go help her out with that plant. And remember, whatever happens, happens. Just know I’m not fucking any of you.” Mingi patted San’s shoulder, looking over to the other members of his party with a playful smile.
San smacked Mingi’s back playfully, which Mingi returned. “Let’s put that elf brat in her place.”
Mingi nodded. “Yeah, on my cock where she belongs.”
Seonghwa scoffed from beside them. “Could you be anymore crass?”
Yunho patted Mingi’s and Seonghwa’s shoulders, practically dislocating them, smiling goofily, his cheeks and face flush from the energy he exerted.  “What happens in the dungeon, stays in the dungeon, boys.”
Seonghwa quietly nodded his head in agreement, until he murmured softly, “Indeed.” 
࿏࿏࿏
“Where are you, you stupid fucking plant?” you called out inside the vast, foliage-covered room, swiping at the overgrown leaves and plants that were in your way, almost tripping over a few vines that grew in and out of the broken-up cobblestone floor below your feet. 
The rest of your party followed your lead, Mingi and Yunho taking the initiative to cut down the thicker plants and foliage that stood in your way with their axes, almost completely out of breath when you finally came across a large pink plant growing in the middle of the room. 
“I’m assuming that’s it,” you said mostly to yourself, slowly walking up to the plant, impressed by its intricate petals and inviting flowery scent. “It’s not as scary as I thought it’d be. It’s almost…pretty…” 
Just as you reached out to touch it, Seonghwa opened his mouth to warn, “Wait, don’t–”
As soon as your slender fingers came in contact with one of the flower petals, the plant sent out a puff of dusty pink pollen directly into your face and the air around your party, before folding in on itself and growing comically large spikes to protect its core which contained the golden glowing seeds you needed to complete your quest. 
You began choking and coughing along with the others, reaching out blindly through the thick pollen, finding solace in Seonghwa’s arms, who began reciting a spell to lessen the effects of the plant’s attempt at self defense, but it was too late. Mind-altering desire had already set in. “Can’t breathe…can’t think…” you whispered, grabbing at Seonghwa’s chest, unbuckling his top and revealing his smooth, marble skin, henna-like tattoos decorating his jewelry-adorned collar bone. 
Seonghwa clutched your shoulders, breathing just as profusely as you were, murmuring, “Don’t think, then, silly elf,” before pressing his mouth onto yours with haste, his long, snake-like tongue slipping inside your mouth to explore it.
Strong, solid hands grabbed at your hips from behind, Mingi pulling them back so that he could grind his cock into your ass, his lips already ghosting along your neck. His deep, gravelly voice made you let out a weak moan into Seonghwa’s mouth when he sighed, “Gonna fill your cunt full of my cum, sweetheart. So fucking full.” 
“Then, I get to fill her slutty elf cunt with my tongue first,” San interrupted, already on his knees, positioning himself in between you and Seonghwa, not hesitating to tear your skirt and panties apart to access your rapidly dripping cunt. “So pink, so pretty…” He attached his drooling mouth onto your clit, sucking so roughly, your knees almost buckled underneath you, about to completely collapse when he plugged your hole up with his hot tongue. 
Seonghwa pulled away slightly, finally letting you breathe without having his tongue down your throat, instead completely shredding  the front of your dress with his talons, just in time for Mingi to groan and cup your tits, squeezing and moving them around, saliva leaking past his plump lips. “I always know exactly what your idiotic orc brain is thinking,” he sighed at Mingi, bringing his own hands up to tweak and pinch at your nipples, making you cry out. 
“Oh, yeah? Can you read my mind right now, Hwa? Can you tell that I’m about to stretch this elf’s little fuckhole wide open with my fat fuckin’ cock?” he said near your twitching, elongated ear, his hard length slipping in between your thighs to rub along the underside of your cunt, his dark eyes settled on Seonghwa’s before returning to your slick body, their hands moving in tandem to play with your tits, each getting a chance to squeeze your squishy flesh and tease your increasingly puffy nipples. 
Yunho, who was hard beyond measure and feeling a little left out, walked up to the side of you and reached down to show off his enormous cock, the slick , oversized tip an angry shade of red. He pouted down at you, letting out a small whimper. “Can you please help me out, sweet? I’m so hard, it hurts…” 
Unable to resist his puppy-dog eyes, you nodded, licking your lips, collecting his vast amounts of pre-cum at the rounded tip with your fingers, eventually using it to slick up the rest of his cock, doing your best to jerk him off with your small hands. “Does that feel good, Yunho?” 
“So good, doll,” he gasped, leaning his head back, not registering when he began to thrust his hips forward into your hands, using them like a fleshlight. 
You’re so big, Yunho, fuck– I can hardly wrap my hands around it…” you sighed out, opening your mouth to lick at the tip of his cock each time he thrusted into your hands. Your mind went blank, until you suddenly remembered that San was in between your squeezing thighs, devouring your cunt like it was his last meal, his tongue and lips wreaking havoc on your clit, his thick fingers shoved inside your pulsing hole.
“Like the way I’m eating this cunt of yours, eh, elf girl?” San mumbled in between slurps, gulping your juices down, a few dribbles of it cascading down his veined throat. “You don’t even need to answer, love. I can tell you do just from the way you’re fuckin’ squeezin’ my fingers.” San groaned deeply, watching the way you dripped for him as he continually went knuckles-deep inside you, biting his bottom lip, growling, “Cum for me. Cum all over my face, you brat. Fuckin’ do it.”
You unraveled almost instantaneously, getting your creaminess sucked off of your slit by the desperate barbarian, not even noticing that he had been jerking himself off so roughly, he had already made himself cum before you did. 
“Goddamn it, since when did high elf squirt taste so fuckin’ good?” San mumbled drunkenly to himself, licking at his swollen lips, prior to sucking your cum from his fingers noisily.
“You’ve had your fun, Sannie boy. It’s time for this little elf girl to experience the pleasure of getting broken in by real men. Hwa, you know what to do,” Mingi announced hastily, already bringing you down to the floor so that you were about to slowly take the half-orc’s cock in your cunt from behind, Seonghwa supporting your front, the tip of his tail already brushing back and forth over your swollen clit, rubbing his large, ridged cockhead on your puffy lips to slick them up with his pre-cum, his own plump lips moving at a quick pace, expertly reciting an incantation that would allow you to physically take two obscenely large cocks at once, all well as increasing your natural lubricant and allowing you access to heightened physical sensations.
“Fuck, look at you…What a good little elf girl you are, taking us both inside you like this,” Mingi sighed into your ear, reaching around your body to lazily rub your wetness into your sensitive clit. “Almost like you were made to take monster cock, huh? Not made for little elven peckers, it seems.” He pressed his hand into your lower abdomen, able to feel the pronounced outline of his friend’s abnormally large length. “Mm, that’s right. You loved being stuffed full of monster cock, don’t you, sweetheart?”
“Love it, Min, so much,” you choked out, your mind going positively blank, the only thing on your mind being the insanely pleasurable stretch you felt inside your core, knowing you were quite literally filled to the brim. “Feels so good, I can’t think.”
“Why think when you can just feel good, princess?” he chuckled, rubbing your tummy in an up and down motion, feeling the outline of Seonghwa’s thick, ridged length with his calloused fingers, shuddering from the sensation of their slippery cocks rubbing along one another inside your tight, slick walls . He nuzzled your neck and the side of your face with his prickly cheek, whispering onto your skin, “M’ so proud of you, sweetheart. I broke you in before and now here you are, taking big tielfing cock in your pussy while an orc’s stuffing you just as full. What a pretty sight you are. Wish I could take a picture.”
“Oh my god, Mingi, please, it’s so–” you could hardly verbalize, your eyes just about rolling into your skull, your body pulsing with so much pleasure, you could barely keep up with what was happening around you.
Mingi routinely filled your elongated ears with more filthy words, Seonghwa gazing deeply at you, your willing hole continuing to clench around their thrusting cocks, getting stretched so pleasurably, you almost passed out from that sensation alone.
All the while, San positioned himself in from of your tits, squeezing them together and driving his cock back and forth between them, grunting and groaning each time.
Yunho gently grabbed your chin, coaxing your mouth open as wide as it would go, whispering, “That’s it, my sweet, just a little wider…” He began to feed you his cock, stuffing your mouth full and instinctively fucking your throat, your jaw already beginning to ache from the obscene girth. “You’re so tiny…can barely take it…huh?” Moaning breathily, Yunho eventually settled for fucking the inside of your gummy cheek, afraid that he would suffocate you if he continued to throat fuck you.
It seemed that this quartet had been in this exact position before. That was clear to you now. You couldn't have been more wet and willing if you tried. Getting used by two filthy men while two more watched and desperately tried to get off using your body in any way they could filled you with a sense of purpose you didn’t realize you had always sought after. 
“You want our cum in your pretty elf cunt, princess?” Mingi huffed, in between harsh, deliberate thrusts, his hands cemented on the reappearing bulge in your stomach. “Huh? You want us to make a mess of you, aye? Want to be fucked so full of our seed, you’ll give us pretty elven offspring?” 
Once Yunho freed your saliva-streaked mouth from his suffocating length and resorted to jerking himself off, you were able to reply in a fucked-out, slurred voice, “Yeah–yeah–yeah– fill me up, wan’ it all. All your cum, in me, on me, I need it, pleaseee.” 
Your willing party members’ highs all crescendoed in succession, Mingi resorting to sloppy, rough thrusts inside your tight hole until he spilled most of his load into you, his cum splashing onto Seonghwa’s cock, dripping along their lengths to form a milky rim. “Oh, fuck, that’s it…but I’m not done yet, princess…I gotta–nngh–leave my mark on my favorite elf…” He slowly pulled out with lewd pop, coaxing a few more cum shots out of his cock with a large, closed fist, watching the large milky droplets slide along your smooth skin and torn sections of your dress onto the curve of your exposed ass, his eyes creasing with clear adoration. “That’s more like it…”
“W-was that necessary…?” you murmured, trying not to cum just from the sensation of getting stuffed full of cum, sensing that Seonghwa was next in line to come undone inside you.
“Oh, my gods, I…see heaven,” Seonghwa gasped sharply, the whites of his boundless eyes glowing brightly, his lips parting to allow a shaky moan to escape. Seonghwa gripped your hips so tightly, he was bound to leave handprints, relying on slow, deliberate strokes, using your contracting cunt to milk the cum from his cock, unable to resist leaving a few drops on your clit and mound when he pulled out.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, gonna cum all over these tits, you little elven slut, take itttt,” San gritted his teeth, his jaw tightening, only having to pump himself between your slick, pre-cum covered tits once more before he was able to leave thick spurts of white all over the bottom of your heated face and lips, leaving most of his load on your messy tits.
“O-oh, godddd…!” Yunho came last, and the most, closing his hands around his reddened tip, whining profusely, unable to keep himself from completely unloading all over your pretty face and hair, practically drenching you in his cum. 
Mingi reached down to cup your chin, tilting your head back so that he could get a good look at you, admiring the way their collective seed dripped off and out of you, swearing he could shed a tear from such a beautiful sight. “Look at you. My pretty princess.”
You gently nuzzled his large hand, smiling contentedly, tasting the salt of someone’s load on your lips when you licked at them. “Your pretty princess…” 
It took a while for all of you to come down and catch your breath, the effects of the pollen still practically running through your veins, but you managed to wobble your way over to the main plant and slowly pull your trusty dagger out of its holder, slashing the plant until its precious seeds dropped into your open palm. You looked down at the golden, glowing seeds, your fingers still splattered with milky liquid, reminding you of the trials you conquered to get to your ultimate goal. As you wiped your sticky face with your sleeve, you looked around at your panting, much more docile party members, wondering if it was all worth it. 
Mingi brushed some of his sweaty hair out of his eyes, noticing the way you were looking up at him, sending a cocky smile your way. “So, you’re 200 gold pieces richer, princess. How does it feel?” 
“Huh?” you questioned immediately, your fingers closing around the pouch that contained the precious lujuria seeds. “It was 1000 gold pieces. Did fucking me stupid render you stupid instead?” 
“I’m sorry, darlin’, but with each party member fee, it rounds out at 200 a person,” he corrected you, bringing you in to give you a gentle hug and a pat on the ass, chuckling delightedly to himself, his friends joining in on the amusement. “That’s still quite a bit. You can buy yourself a pretty new dress since yours is all torn and drenched in our cum, ya’ know?” He leaned his head in your direction, twiddling his large thumbs, his smile growing more lewd. "That means I can have the one you're wearing right now, yeah?"
You grimaced, your blood boiling over, already stomping your way out of the last dungeon floor, your voice still growing louder and louder the further you walked away, swearing to yourself, “This is the last time I do anything with you, Mingi! Never again. Never! EVER!” 
Mingi simply waved off at his friend’s questioning gazes, holding the seeds that you had taken from the plant inside his own hand, admiring their shimmering edges. “Don’t worry. She always comes back.” 
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© kitten4sannie, 2024.
1K notes · View notes
worldlxvlys · 1 month
Note
hiiii!!! so can I have a chubby ready or a plus size reader for matt?? it can be a smut or fluff. you can chose.
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her
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matt sturniolo x plus size! reader
warnings: smutttt, cursing, semi-public sex, p in v, unprotected sex, tittie fixation, oral + handjob (male receiving), slight overstimulation, lots of praise + fluff
a/n: i love youuuu <33
i do this every time.
i convince myself that it’ll end different, that maybe it will go well for me for once; but of course not.
how silly of me to think that something as simple as clothes shopping would be as easy for me as it is everyone else.
now here i was, standing in front of the mirror in the fitting room, comparing myself to the girl i saw on tiktok wearing the exact dress.
except, on her, it actually looked good.
don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of times where i love my body and i feel confident. this just wasn’t one of them.
because on her, it hugged every single curve on her body perfectly. the dress was damn near made for her.
it was silly of me, really, i set myself up for disappointment.
of course the dress looked perfect for her, i’m not her. usually, i’d just suck it up and look for different clothes.
but, how could one piece of clothing look so drastically different on two different people?
when i imagined myself in this dress, this is not what i had in mind.
but i guess i should just be grateful they even had it in my size, right ? when i first walked into the store, i wasn’t even sure they would.
plus size clothing is hard enough to find, especially in LA.
i shook my head lightly as i stared at myself in the reflection.
“what’s wrong ? you don’t like it?” matt asked, taking in my disappointed expression.
he moved to wrap his hands around my waist from behind, staring at my reflection in the mirror.
“it’s ok, i guess. it’s just…not what i envisioned it to look like on me” matt knew exactly what that meant without me having to say a word.
“was what you were picturing based on your body, or someone else’s?” i let out a sigh as i turned away from the mirror.
“look, i’m sure it looked good on her body type, but it looks amazing on yours” he gently cupped my jaw with his hand, moving it so my gaze was back on the mirror.
“why would you want it to look like it does on her when it looks breathtaking on you?” he asked, rubbing circles into my hips.
“you’re just saying that” i spoke lightly. he pushed his hips into mine suddenly, his hard dick poking my thigh eagerly.
“does that feel like i’m just saying it?” he rasped. “you look good, bet you’ll feel even better”
“matt” i let out a whine as his fingers ran up and down my thigh.
“what do you like about it?” he asked as he began to leave teasing kisses along the back of my neck.
i tried to focus on my breathing rather than his hand teasingly moving closer and closer to my core before retreating back down my leg.
“nothing to say? i’ll answer for you, then” he whispered into my ear, his hand disappearing under the dress.
“i like how it shows off these pretty thighs” he breathed, rubbing my thigh gently.
“i like how it covers your tits to everyone else, but when i wanna see them, all i have to do is…” he trailed off before untying the front of the dress, watching as it loosened and my tits fell free.
“so fucking gorgeous” he mumbled to himself, gently caressing my boobs.
“i like how it’s the perfect length, such easy access” he whispered the last part to himself, finding the waistband of my panties and pulling them down.
“i don’t know if it’s the dress i like so much as that fucking body” he spoke, turning me around to look at me.
“i love every inch of you” he spoke as he sat me down on the small bench.
he pulled down his pants and boxers, his dick springing free while i watched in anticipation.
the sounds of my soft moans filled the dressing room as matt pushed himself into me slowly.
his forehead was pressed to mine while he stared into my eyes with a look that made my heart race.
i let out a particularly loud moan when he began to thrust into me deeper, his cock kissing my cervix.
“you gotta stay quiet for me, baby. don’t want anyone hearing, do you ?” he asked as he continued to thrust into me slowly.
i covered my mouth with my hand, shaking my head as i tried desperately to contain my moans.
“feels so- god, you feel so good. you’re so good for me, my perfect girl” he groaned as he held leaned his hands on the bench on either sides of my thighs.
“you have no clue how fucking beautiful you are to me….how much you mean to me” he spoke before moving his face towards my chest.
“gonna show you” he whispered before bringing my nipple into his mouth.
“hmph, matt” my moans were muffled by my hand, my free hand finding its way to his head.
my head fell back into the wall behind me as matt swirled his tongue around my nipple, licking and teasing the sensitive bud.
when he finished, my boob had dark marks on it, staying attached to his mouth by a string of spit.
“god, i love your tits” he mumbled before getting to work on the other one.
his tongue worked my nipple while he continued to thrust sharply and deeply into me.
i tugged on his hair harshly, eliciting a moan from him while he looked up at me, watching me fall apart under him.
“matt i’m so close” i moaned out rather loudly, causing him to pull away from my boob.
he brought his lips to mine, swallowing my moans as our lips danced across each others.
i wrapped my legs around his hips, pulling him as close to me as possible as our lips molded together.
“look so pretty like this, my love. so good for me, could fuck you like this all day” he whispered against my lips.
my eyes squeezed shut when he reached between us to rub my clit, my jaw falling slack.
“matt-” “i know” he cut me off, feeling me clench around him, “come on, give it to me baby. i got you” he whispered as i cried out.
my legs shook around him, hands squeezing his biceps as i released all over him.
my body continued to shake lightly, the aftershocks hitting me every now and then as matt continued to thrust into me.
“can i-” he cut himself off with a guttural groan, “will you let me cum on your tits? please?” he asked me through his grunts.
my face lit up at that, “yes please” i answered. he grinned at that, pulling out as soon as i agreed.
i took his length into my hand, pumping him quickly and watching his face contort in pleasure. “fuck, you’re so good to me” he breathed out.
“you deserve it” i told him “you close? gonna cover me in your cum?” i asked him, his cock twitching at the statement.
“yea, fuck yes”
i stroked him a few more times before thick spurts of his cum flew out of his tip, dripping down my chest.
“yes, yes, yes, yes" he chanted, his voice breaking slightly.
i continued to pump him, watching his seed flow out of his tip, before he pulled my hand away.
“s-sensitive baby” he groaned out, knees beginning to buckle slightly.
“gotta clean you up, right ?” i asked before bringing his tip into my mouth, his hand automatically flying to cover his own.
his eyes rolled to the back of his head as i licked him slowly and gently, collecting every drop of his pleasure and swallowing it.
i removed him from my mouth with a pop, smiling in satisfaction at his fucked-out state.
i brought my hand to my tits, wiping him off of me and licking my hand.
“you trying to kill me?” he asked, mouth hung slightly.
“there are no paper towels” i shrugged at him.
he lightly shook his head, a small smile overtaking his features while he helped me to fix myself up.
i helped him do the same, before picking up the dress.
“so ? are we buying it?” he asked, eyes filled with hope. i smiled at him lightly, “hm, yeah, i think so” i answered.
his smile grew wider at that, “good, because that won’t be the last time i fuck you in that dress” he whispered into my ear.
“well, in that case, i might have to wear it again today”
🧡🧡🧡🧡
masterlist
tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @sturniolololover @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris
614 notes · View notes
astrolynnworld · 2 months
Text
limitless ᡣ𐭩
pairings: chris & matt x reader
summary: you, as the best friend of the triplets, have a secret love triangle going on within the group. not that they know, and not that they could ever find out!
warnings: smut! switching brothers, sneaky, hold the moan, mommy/daddy kink, dom matt, sub matt, oral, riding, aftercare, dumbification (lots), praise, degradation, dom chris, drooling, stomach bulging, confessions, plot twist
a/n: first story back, hope you guys enjoy! thinking of post once a week now <33 love you guys & thanks so much for 1.7k, i absolutely appreciate the support. for sure keeps my fingers typing :)
if you wanna listen to anything while you read
*nsfw*
word count: 3,200
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nick, matt, chris, & i gather on the couch for our weekly movie night
we try to hangout as often as we can since they’re usually always busy
once a week we try to push for a hangout that typically ends in us watching a movie
or falling asleep to one..
but because i had chose the movie this time, i didn’t let myself fall asleep
i was eyes wide at the screen watching each scene take place while chris snores himself a storm
nick had also fallen asleep at this point, matt was the only trooper who stayed up to finish the movie with me
towards the end of the movie, a long gunshot scene had come on the screen
waking nick and chris up..
“holy fuck that scared the shit out of me” chris says with his groggy voice
“i thought we were getting robbed for a second” nick adds on while rubbing his eyes and stretching his arms
me & matt silently giggle to each other
“i’m going to bed” chris says while wrapping a blanket around him and getting up to head downstairs
nick nods his head in agreement, “right. well goodnight guys, see you in the morning” he says as he heads upstairs
“guess it’s just us two now” matt says
“really? i couldn’t tell” i say slyly as i crawl over to him as place myself his his lap
“not right here baby, what if they come back cause they forgot something?” he continues
“isn’t that the fun part?” i say before placing my lips onto his
he deepened the kiss while he rubs his hands on my hips
“mmh. you smell so good baby” he says while breaking the kiss
“stop- stop calling me baby matt.. you know what it does to me”
“what does it do to you my love?” he asks before bringing his head close to my ear
“does it turn you on like the good girl you are?” he whispers in my ear before pulling back to see my reaction
i just silently stare at him in awe until he brings his lips closer to mine
“hmm baby? i need you to speak for me.” he whispers into my lips, allowing his breath to linger
“does being my baby turn you on?” he asks again, continuing this whisper that really sparks all erotic feelings in body
“yes daddy. i like being your baby” i softly say, entertaining my submissive state
“good girl.” he says while rubbing circles into my hips
“do you wanna show daddy how much of a good girl you can be?”
i nod my head and start to unbuckle his pants while he kisses my face and neck.
“take this off for me beautiful” he says as he tugs on my shirt
i slide it off to reveal that i’m not wearing a bra underneath
“you’re so fucking pretty baby. i’ll never get over it” he says while admiring and softly servicing my nipples
he traces my nipples with his finger and starts to lap and suck on them, causing me to whine out a slight moan
“shh baby. remember we gotta be quiet” he says while i try to contain myself
he continues to suck at my nipples for a few more minutes before leaning back on the couch
allowing me to finish my access to him
i continue to unbuckle his pants and pull them down. to which his hard cock springs out, ready to have been freed
i grab it with my right hand and slowly start to sink myself lower in between his legs.
i position my mouth on his tip and start to swirl my tongue around, letting my salvia fall and drip all the way down to his balls
“fuck.”
i jerk him up and down while wrapping my mouth around the tip and starting to create a sucking motion
i look up at him to see him looking down at me in awe, mouth slightly agape.
i wanted to do more.
i remove my hand and place it on his knees while i push my mouth deeper into him
“oh my god baby you’re so fucking sexy. please take all of me” he says while tempting himself not to touch me
i throw my head up and down trying to fit him all, knowing this would be unrealistic
i feel him twitch inside my mouth
i continue to lap up and down around his cock while he struggles to keep his composure
i hear his breathing start to pick up as he tries to contain the sounds he really wants to make
i shut my eyes to concentrate on making him nut without letting my mouth get tired
he starts to thrust up into me and i feel the tears start to form
he throws his head back on the couch and lets out his final thrust before coats of thick liquid fill my throat
i pull back and use my hand to finish his high, while i catch my breath.
then i go back in to keep sucking, starting back with the hand and mouth combo
his body twitches, “fuck baby. y- you can’t do t-his, i’m t- too se- sensitive”
he tries to shake me off of him
i climb back on his lap, “come on baby, i want more of you. do you think you could hold out for me?” i seductively whisper to him while he looks up at me straddling his lap
“but-“
“no buts baby. don’t you think it’s your turn to be good now?” i start to rub his head, playing with his head
his eyes trickle back into his head for a split second before he nods
“words, my pretty boy.” i say while continuing to touch his hair
he hums into a whine, “i wanna be good for you”
“good boy” i give him a kiss on the forehead as a reward, before i slide out of my bottoms.
i grab his cock and he hisses in for a second, prepping himself
i align his cock with my hole and slowly start to sink down into it
“mngh-ph” he chokes out, “fuck. i don’t think i- aah- i can d- do this” he throws his head back onto the couch, leaving his mouth open
i continue to bounce on top of him, “it’s okay baby. mommy’s gonna take care of you, just loosen up under my control ok?”
“yes mommy.” he mutters out as a whimper. i can tell he isn’t even thinking anymore, just going fuzzy under my control.
i continue to bounce on him and watch his face form as the tensity starts to build
i bring my face down and start to kiss on his exposed neck while rubbing my fingers through his hair
all he can let out is mangled whimpers and whines
“m- mom- my” he struggles to get out
i lift my head from his neck and see the drool start to pool and drip out his mouth, “i-‘m gonna c- cum again”
“so soon baby?” i say as i watch his limp body shake with every bounce and fuzzy eyes try to focus on the pleasure.
i lick the drool that continues spilling out his mouth and watch him shut his eyes
“can i?” he asks softly
“go ahead baby. cum in mommy”
he whines and weakly thrusts up and he lets out his second load.
falling back down into the couch as he used all his energy for that second nut.
i give him a kiss, “i’m proud of you baby. doing more than you can handle”
“m-mm” he silently hums back in agreement as if he’s about to pass out right here
i get off of him and help put his boxers back on before helping him walk back to bed
i snuggle him and bed and give him a kiss goodnight, before heading to the bathroom to clean myself up
i’m happy that i’m capable of putting matt to sleep like that but what if i wanted to be put to sleep too..
i sit on the toilet and start thinking
i could either touch myself.. or see if chris is still up
i then open my phone to imessages and click on chris’s name
there’s no shot he’s up right now, it’s been an hour since him & nick had left for bed
regardless, i give it a shot
y/n: chriss
y/n: are you still up?
i my phone down on the counter next to me and start to wipe myself down
i pull up my pants, flush the toilet, and start to wash my hands before i see my phone flash
i dry my hands and pick up my phone
chris: yeah, wsp?
y/n: everyone went to bed but i can’t sleep.. can i come stay with you?
chris: ofc, ma. anything for u
i leave the bathroom and make my way downstairs to chris’s room
i just open the door and walk in, “what are you still even doing up?” i ask as i sit on his bed
“once i came back to my room i tried to fall asleep but it was too late, i was wide awake”
“so.. you were up the whole time?” i curiously ask, not trying to indicate anything even tho i was freaking out
did he hear me & matt? no way right .. he would of said something immediately no?
i can’t have them know about each other, they would instantly cut me off.
i’ve always played my card right when it comes to them. “keep it a secret because if the others found out, they wouldn’t support it and they would be mad at us”
we act like the best of friends when we’re a group and occasionally hook up on the side when we’re alone.
i don’t even know how this all started but i’m pretty sure i started hooking up with chris first. now its a whole mess between both of them and i know i’d be dead if any of them found out
“yeah.. why?” chris asks suspiciously
“because you should of came back upstairs to me then” i say trying to further avoid suspicion and play it off
“oh. i just thought you had went to sleep with nick”
“if i wanted to sleep with anyone.. it’d be you” i suggestively say as i make my way closer to him
“what does that mean” he smirks into response, inching closer to me
“why don’t you find out”
he places his lips on mine with passion, taking power and control.
he pushes me down into the bed while he starts to undress me
pants first, followed by my shirt, exposing my bare top once again
he takes of his shirt, leaving him only in his boxers
he leans back into more of a kiss
he was rough, and assertive. like he had been waiting for this, like he needed me
“i can. never. get enough. of you.” he says in between kisses
he starts to lick & suck at my boobs, “fuck your so pretty, baby”
i moan into his touch
which is enough to get him started, he takes off his boxers and instantly gets down on his knees where he admires my pussy through my panties
“i missed her” he says before kissing her gently, teasing me
“chris- please.” i beg
“please what, ma?”
“please use your mouth on me”
“no need to ask twice” he says before pulling me out my panties and starting to work his mouth
he was lapping up and down my vagina like a dog with water. he wrapped his hands around my thighs to get a better angle
he even started using his hand to rub my clit as he kept licking
“oh my- fuck chris. please keep going” i say as i start gripping the sheets and grinding into his face
he uses his other hand to put a finger inside and start fucking me
i threw my head back into the bed
“fuck chris- yes. just like that please”
“you’re so fucking wet baby, you like this?”
“yes chris oh. my. god” i continue to moan out, not even caring about how loud i might have been being
each second the pleasure starts to increase more and more
“what’s my name?” chris asks
“fuckkk chris don’t make me say it” i plead
i know how much chris likes being called daddy, it gives him such an ego boost of power. but sometimes i didn’t like giving him that power, even though he clearly already has it
“say it or i’m gonna stop”
“fuck. da- daddy. y- your name is daddy. just please don’t stop” i beg
“keep saying it over and over while you cum baby” he says while speeding up the pace of his fingers and tongue
“hughhh daddy don’t stop. please” i say as i start to buck my hips faster into him
“daddy. daddy. daddy.” i say, letting the words fall out my mouth with each moaned whimper
“fuh- i’m cumming daddy please fucking ruin me.” i spew out any word that runs through my weak mind
“fuck pretty girl, you make such pretty noises for me huh?” chris says as he starts to stand up and lean over in my face
i look at him with a foggy mind, trying to find the strength to think of what he’s gonna do next
“i want to hear much more of those pretty sounds okay?” he says while placing his hands on my face gently, rubbing his thumbs on my cheeks
i nod my head, hoping that i can last for another round
he starts to push his cock inside my drenching wetness
“you’re so tight, mama. you’re sucking me in” he chuckles condescendingly
i stare at him with doe eyes and an open mouth as he stretches me out
he puts his fingers in my mouth, indicating for me to suck.
i start to suck on his fingers like i would if it were his cock, he then begins to use his hips to start moving in me
he repeatedly pulls out, and slowly slides back in giving me time to adjust to him
i continue to suck on his finger without a thought in mind
until he pulls his fingers out and slaps me
“do you not hear me talking to you?” he asks aggressively
“what’d you say daddy?” i apologetically say in my submissive girl voice
“you want me to be gentle? or rough.”
“you know i love it when you’re rough with me daddy.” i say, keeping the sub voice on
“you’re so fucking smart baby, such a good girl for me” he says as he pushes me further back into the bed so he can prop up on the bed with his knees
he bends down to give me sloppy kisses as he thrust deeper into me
he pulls out to only the tip and drops his dick all the way down inside of me, letting his balls clap against my ass
sounds of us fucking echo the room
he pulls back from the kiss and just stares into my foggy eyes
“fuck i love you. why do you make it so hard not to fucking love you y/n” he confesses as he starts to pick up the pace
“i fucking hate that we can’t be together in any other way but this. you’re so fucking perfect” he stand up on his knees and props my legs on his shoulders to give him a new angle
a better angle.
“you don’t even have a clue at how hard it is to be around you & the others but not touch or kiss you.”
“i just wanna show everyone that you’re mine”
i cant even think of a response right now, i feel his tip kissing against my cervix
my brain is going dumb around him, all i can do is stare and listen. my mouth wouldn’t even speak if i tried
“i want you to be mine y/n. i need you so bad. every day. all the time.” he says before bending back down in my face, forcing my legs to go higher
“say it ma. say you’re mine. i wanna hear it”
“i- i- mmm i’m yours chris. nnmm- all. yours.”
he places a kiss on my lips and forehead before sitting back up and continuing to fuck into me
“fuck baby. i can see my bulge imprint in your stomach” he breaths out
“that’s so sexy, my love. knowing you can take all of me like this & more”
he was so turned on
so turned on he started pressing on it, sending shiver down my spine
“fuck. you clench around me when i touch it. does that turn you on? knowing im so deep inside of you like this that you can see me in your guts”
i start blinking so slow, you would think its morse code. i felt so overwhelmed and my brain couldn’t catch up
i never usually cum back to back like this but i could feel the orgasm building inside of me
he was playing with his bulge in my stomach as he continued to fuck into me, fast.
i couldn’t take it, i wasn’t even moaning this point. i was whispering incoherent whines as i let my brain melt away
“you look so sloppy under me baby, look at you fucking drooling. does it feel that good?”
despite not being able to think or speak, he knew it wasn’t too much for me because i hadn’t called the safe word or made any attempts to get him off of me.
we always have good sex but this one was different. it was needy and passionate, i wanted to explore it all the way
“i don’t know how much longer i can last princess, you’re clenching around me so tight”
he started to rub my clit again and that’s what did it for me. that’s what sent me over the edge
i felt my whole body shake in euphoria
i started twitching under him
“mnghh. fuck.” he says as he lets his load spill in me
“fuck. oh my god.” he says as he catches his breath
he pulls out of me and gently puts my legs down
“you did so good for me tonight baby” he rubs my head and places kisses on my cheek
he helps me sit up so i can put my shirt back on
“we’re definitely gonna need to buy a plan b tomorrow. i’m not seeing any cum come out” he says while trying to put my underwear back on
“do you have to pee?”
i tiredly shake my head no
he lays me back down on the bed and puts the blanket on top of me
he gives me a peck before hopping in bed with me and pulling me closer to lay on his chest
“i meant what i said earlier about loving you. but we can discuss that tomorrow, along with what you’re gonna do about matt.”
was the last thing i heard before i drifted off
__________________________________________
taglist: @cutiepatootie36273 @secret-sturniolo @sturns-blog @sturniolo-2003 @mayaaatok @sturnswrites @breeloveschris @mattsleftnipple03 @mattybswife @sturnioloslurps @tropicasturn @princessbetsy123-blog <333
a/n: ummm? i put my BACK into this and it took like 4 hours 😭 i hope you guys like it a lot!! <33 might be a new favorite story.
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celestie0 · 28 days
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choso x reader | punk rock au [18+]
in another life ch.1 cupid's arrow
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ᰔ pairing. punk rock au - bass player! choso x reader (f)
ᰔ summary. you and choso were lovers in college when him and his rock band were just nobodies with nothing but a dream, but when his band strikes a deal with an up-and-coming record label in tokyo, you make the tough decision to break up with him since you couldn’t go with him to the city. flash forward seven years, his band is the biggest rock band in the world, n you move from the countryside to tokyo with your fiancé nanami to start your new life together. but in the heart of the city, home to many, there’s one person there that still has the power to turn your whole life upside down. and when you run into him again after all those years, feelings you didn’t know were still haunting you come crashing back all at once, and you’re not sure what it is you want from your life anymore.
ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, punk rock au, partying, drinking/alcohol, weed usage, cigarette usage, romance, slow burn, friends to lovers, second chance romance, time skips, love triangle, bad boy choso, slight age gap (five yrs), longterm pining, jealousy, messy decisions, you know the drill
ᰔ chapter. 1/x (probably 6)
ᰔ words. 10.2k
a/n. hellooooo aaa welcome to my new choso fic :'') i'm so excited for this one! i'm just laughing at how i cannot just stick to a oneshot idea and somehow end up planning out a fullblown series instead hahah. but anyways, i hope you enjoy! thank you to everyone that wanted to be on the taglist, i'm really looking forward to diving into this story. see you at the bottom!!
alsooo my m00tie @sykosugu and i decided to post for our fics at the same time hehe she has a really spicy suguru x reader fic called 'on the run' that i highly recommend so go check that out as well if you're interestedd <33
nav. ch1 :: ch2 (pending)
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“and there was something about you that now, i can’t remember. it’s the same damn thing that made my heart surrender.”
present day. summer.
“We’re gonna miss you so, so, so much, love,” Mai groans, pulling you in towards her for a hug and you reciprocate with fondness.
Another pair of arms wraps around you, grip much tighter and you protest through a difficult breath. “Do you really have to go?” Nobara asks.
You tap on the skin of her arm, urging her to ease her hold in this group hug, and she finally relents and the three of you pull apart from one another. There’s a slight gasp from your lips as you breathe in fresh summer air. “I do, Nobie, I’m sorry. Nanami said it’s the final decision.”
You’re standing on hot concrete in front of a little countryside cottage that you’ve called home for years, but will soon just be a memory. You know which light switches illuminate corners of the rooms, and which creaking wood panels on the floor to avoid when looking for a midnight snack. It’s where you spent years studying for finals, arguing with your mom, learning how to care for Ms. Roxie, and it’s where you fell in love. More than once.
Your parents gave the house to you and Nanami once the two of you became engaged, but that blessing was soon to be given away, as Nanami received news six months ago that he was being promoted and relocated to Tokyo. Now, you have two bags in your hands, your purse slung around your shoulder, and a suitcase filled to the brim with the life you’ve tried to stuff in it. Your taxi driver has the other suitcase, because there were some things you couldn’t leave behind after all, and he’s putting it in the trunk right now.
“Nanami is so rude to take you from us,” Mai sighs, “but at least you’ll be one of those cool city girls now. So scary. I heard trends change faster there than the leaves on Rowan tree during spring.”
Nobara lets out a gasp that’s only half exaggerated. “No way! It can’t be!”
The taxi driver calls after you with a quick question, to which you answer back with a shout from where you stood. A quick glance at your watch tells you it’s time to get moving, as you’ll be taking a connecting train once you reach Tokyo that you need to be on time for. And then he’ll be there. Nanami will be waiting for you there, to lead you into the life that he’s started to make for the two of you.
“I’ll call so very often,” you promise the two of them, “and I will miss you two so very often as well.” Tears prickle in your eyes, and it seems to be contagious as they shimmer in Nobara and Mai’s eyes as well. Another group hug takes place between the three of you, harsh sun beating down with birds chirping in the distance as you try to take in the last few moments you’ve been granted of this place. “Take care of Roxie for us,” you say through a sniffle, “to you, it may seem like you’re only the bearer of food for her, but I promise that little kitty will love you two like no other.”
They both nod at you as you pull away, and you swipe at a tear that rolls down your cheek as you roll your suitcase down the pebbled walkway of your now past home.
The taxi driver helps hoist your suitcase into the trunk and places your other two bags into the back seat. You take a seat at the front with him, clicking the passenger seatbelt, and you roll down the window to wave bye with blown kisses as the taxi driver pulls away from the rocky mud road with crunching under the wheels. You watch Mai and Nobara and your home in the side view mirror until they’re no longer visible, but their voices of farewell linger in the air for a moment more.
“Alright, ma’am, bound for Tokyo!” your taxi driver chirps, his rough-looking hands opening and closing a few times to stretch out the joints of his fingers before tightly gripping onto the steering wheel again.
“Yes, Tokyo,” you murmur softly, gaze set out the window of the familiar street shops and stretches of patchy trees you know you’ll miss once you’re in the city.
“What’s your name?” the man asks, a thick country accent rolling off his tongue, with a sweetness like honey.
You turn your head to look at him more closely. The hair of his eyebrows is bushy, somewhat unkempt, and he has thick lines across his cheeks and forehead that can only mean that he’s lived a lot of life.
You tell him your name and he nods slowly as the two of you stop at a through road, a few school children hurrying past before he turns right onto the main road. “That’s a nice name. Which one of your parents gave it to ya?”
“Um. Both of them?”
He lets out a noise of acknowledgement, and doesn’t ask a further question. You smooth out the fabric of your long skirt with a hand, then toy with the band of your simple watch. Just when you think a comfortable silence has fallen between the two of you, and you think you have the luxury of losing yourself in your thoughts with sights beyond the polished glass window, the man speaks up again.
“Alright then, miss, tell me a story.”
You raise an eyebrow at him. “Pardon?”
“We’re gonna be spendin’ three hours in this car together, darlin’. It’s either I talk your ear off or you talk mine off,” he says, broad shoulders rolling backwards once as he gets comfortable in his driving position.
“Uh…do we need to talk at all?”
He glances over at you for a moment. The car wheels grind over rocks on gravel road near an agricultural field, and his fingers flex once again on the wheel. “You younger generations are so stuck in your own worlds. Entertain some conversation with the poor old taxi driver, will ya?”
You sigh, folding your hands in your nap neatly. “Alright. I don’t really have many stories to tell, though.”
“A young lady like you, packin’ up her whole life to move to a big city? I beg to differ,” he counters.
His words have you tucking your bottom lip under your teeth, a few blinks of your eyelids to process his observation of you. Your mind searches for stories to tell. Maybe that moment last week when you watched a momma duck waddle across a bridge with all seven of her baby ducklings. Or maybe you could tell him about that time you drove your car into a ditch the night of the comet festival and you swear you saw a UFO in the sky. The story you’ve been telling a lot lately, though, was the one of how Nanami proposed.
But then there’s a different story that comes to mind. With hazy images of blinding stage lights in dim venues, cigarette smoke wafting through the air, sounds of bass and drums and cheers. Smell of dry grass, the feeling of your back against a blanket, heart beating fast underneath the stars in front of a twinkling lake. And forever in your memory, the patterns of his inked skin.
“You got a boyfriend?” the man asks, suddenly.
“Are…are you hitting on me?” you ask awkwardly.
“Oh, no, ma’am,” he shakes his head, lifting his left hand up from the steering wheel and turning the back of it to face you. A silver ring adorning his fourth finger shimmers from the reflected sunlight through the window. “Happily married. Been with my missus for 22 years.”
A small smile makes its way onto your face as you relax into your seat a little, feeling calmer. “Oh, I see. I’m sorry for assuming. And I have a fiancé, actually.”
“Oh?” he chirps, stealing a quick glance at your left hand that was still folded neatly underneath your right one in your lap. “How come I’m not seein’ a ring?”
You tug at the small chain around your neck, a chill felt as diamond stone and cold metal drags against the skin of your sternum before you pull out your own promise of marriage, dangling it in front of your chest for him to steal another glance at. “I wear it around my neck. I’m a pottery teacher, so I usually take it off when showing my students any demos. I figured if I kept taking it off like that, I might lose it, so I just wear it around my neck now.”
“That’s interesting,” he comments, “It’s a real nice ring, that’s for sure! Tell me about this man you’re marryin.”
Your heart aches at the thought of Nanami. It’s been six months since you’ve seen him, since he relocated to Tokyo first, and you’ve missed him every day since. You were in the middle of the academic year at the elementary school you taught at, so they asked you to stay back, but Nanami had already accepted the promotion, thus the two of you made the decision that he would move to Tokyo first to get situated and you’d soon follow in the summer. It was a lot of stress to handle as just one person; searching for apartments on top of managing the heightened expectations from his boss from his new role, but he did it all without a complaint. Because he loves you, and that’s who Nanami was. Someone who would move mountains for you. He’s worked hard to make a place for you in Tokyo, one to call home.
“He really loves me,” you say to the man, softly.
“And you love him?”
“So much.”
“Was he your first love?”
Your breath catches in your throat from his question, a small chill running down your spine. The silence that settles could’ve lasted two seconds or two centuries, and you never would’ve known.
You lick your lips before answering. “No, he wasn’t.”
“Hmm…” the man hums. Bumpy roads are now smooth as he turns onto properly laid roads, the exit from your town onto intercity roads. “I can tell.”
“You can tell?” you ask, skeptic in your tone as you tilt your head at him.
“I can tell from your voice that there was someone else before. Someone who meant a whole lot to you, but he went away for some reason,” he says.
You’re not sure why there’s a lump in your throat from his words, a heavy thing with so much substance that it threatens to weigh your heart as well. Your eyes study the side of his face. “You’re getting all of that from my voice?”
The man’s expression is blank as if it were tabula rasa, something so different from the way you’ve felt for so long now, like your heart has been torn in two. There was something so tempting about it; the luxury of a clean slate. Of a new beginning. A fresh start. And it’s hard not to imagine how you would’ve painted things differently.
“Tell me about him,” the man says, the story he was looking for having been found. “Your first love.”
“He…” you start, shocked that you’re actually answering, but it’s like an invitation you can’t resist, “he was my first boyfriend…my first serious boyfriend. I met him the summer after high school. During a summer like this one.”
.
.
.
seven years ago. summer.
chapter 1. cupid’s arrow.
“C’mon, faster!” Mai exclaims, her hand wrapped around your wrist to tug you across the dim streets of downtown. 
“Just— wait— Mai, please, slow down,” you’re stumbling after her, feet failing to keep up, and you almost crash right into her when she comes to a sudden halt on the sidewalk.
“This is it,” she says, staring up at the sporadically blinking neon lights of what appears to be a small venue, black marquee letters that spell out Backseat Serenade Tonight @ 10pm stand out to you in a way that feels haunting. “We’re so late, let’s head inside.”
Mai drags you inside, and the security guy is less than thrilled by the commotion as he stands in front of closed double doors. You can feel the bass of music vibrating the walls, accompanied by loud shrill screams and chants coming from inside, and the red velvet flooring underneath your feet fuel you with static as you two approach the man dressed in full black.
Mai fumbles with her purse to pull out her phone, and the man scans the barcoded tickets on her screen before giving the two of you wristbands to wear and then he opens the door for the two of you.
The inside of the venue is small but packed, minimal lighting save for moving lights that illuminate the band on stage, but it’s even harder to see anything over the heads of people with their hands up in the air. Mai’s grip on your forearm is tight as she roughly weaves the two of you through the crowd, determined in her gait but you feel the need to apologize to the people she’s shoving in the process. You’re surprised at how fast the two of you make it to the front barricades, thanks to Mai’s nimbleness alone, and your eyes raise to the scene onstage through wafting smoke through the air.
“Alright, alright, alright,” one of the band members chimes right as the final instrumentals of the song begin to fade. His hair is a pale silver under dusty lighting, pushed up from out of his face by a black headband snapped to his forehead, and his eyes are distinctly blue. He has an electric guitar hanging from his neck by a thick black strap. He raises both of his hands up into the air, waving them down a few times to calm down the crowd, and there are scattered hushes surrounding you and Mai. “This is our last song, and we just want to thank you all so much for coming out tonight! This crowd’s the best we’ve ever had!” 
The people cheer in response as a light and relaxed melody begins to tune together from the instrumentals on stage. You hear Mai groan beside you. “What the fuck?! We missed the entire set?!” 
Your hands curl around the cold metal of the barricade dividers and your eyes sweep across the stage. There’s a man in the far back with short black hair, bouncing his leg up and down as he’s seated behind a drum set, fidgeting with wooden sticks in his hands, and you’re puzzled by the fact that he’s wearing a very poorly fitted suit onstage. Off to the right, a man with pink hair is messing with the headphones snapped to his ears in front of an electric keyboard, spread fingers pressing down on chords, and you can vaguely see the black nail polish at the tips of his fingers. A woman with mid length blonde hair and pink highlights stands at the front, her hand wrapped around the mic resting on top of the stand. She’s laughing, tipping her head back at something else the electric guitar player says over the mic, but you’ve drowned out the words because your eyes finally land on what’s directly in front of you.
With an almost bored expression on his face, a man stands with a matte black bass guitar hung from his neck as he has one foot up on the top of a subwoofer located flush to the edge of the stage. His hair is raven black, longer at the nape of his neck with shorter layers scattered, and tendrils fall over his face. There’s a glint to his polished black shoes off of where you’re standing, and he’s wearing tight black jeans that cling to the thick and lean muscles of his calves and thighs, with a leather belt fastened around the circumference of his hips. The shirt that’s tucked into his jeans is just as tight to his skin, and a small gasp leaves your lips when you take in the sight of his arms covered in intricate patterns of ink. His right arm is practically covered from the wrist all the way up to the cut of his short sleeve, likely beyond, and his left arm has ink traveling up to his forearm only, like he’s still working on mapping it all out. You watch the way his biceps flex as he bends his arms, bringing his hands up to his face to push his hair back, and your heart is keeping fast rhythm with the music. 
“Cho!” the woman at the front speaks into the mic, turning her head to look at this man who you’re sure is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. “You’ve hardly said a single word tonight, baby. Not that that’s unusual though. Why don’t you say a few words before we kick off the last song?”
A bunch of whoos!! and ahhhs!!! and yesss!!! scatter throughout the crowd in the form of cheers and you watch the man furrow his brows together, a scowl forming on his face. There’s a band of black underneath his eyes that runs across the bridge of his nose, with perpendicular lines resembling arrows running down his cheeks. Dark purple eyes that match the dark shadows around them glint under flickering stage lighting as he takes his foot off the speaker and walks a few steps backwards to position himself at his stationed mic. 
“Fine,” he says, and you’re watching the way his lips barely brush against the mic as he speaks, “This is our last song. It’s called Lost Cause. Enjoy. Or don’t. It’s up to you. Who the fuck am I to tell you what to do.”
There’s only a slight beat of silence from the crowd before they’re cheering again, while his band members just stare at him stunned. The white-haired electric guitarist yells into his mic something like  “THAT’S IT?!” before the drum player cuts him off with three taps of his sticks in the air, and then the song commences from them on practiced reflex. 
The energy from the crowd is loud in the last few minutes of the show, smoke rising in the air from the machines spread across the raised stage, and you can’t tear your eyes away from the bass player. You rest your forearms on the cold metal in front of you, the sight of Mai jumping up and down in your periphery as she headbangs and shakes her hair. 
The bass player’s eyes start to scan the venue within what seems to be the final chorus of the song, chin tipping up and fingers continuing to strum as he assesses the back of the crowd first, then gaze darting throughout the center, before he begins to study the front barricade. You watch his every movement, mapping the trail of his sight, and your heart skips a beat when those dark eyes finally fall on yours. 
His eyes briefly flicker to your left, to continue his study of the crowd, but it’s as if his brain just registered something with a delay, and he quickly moves his gaze back to you in a double take. His eyes widen, bored expression quickly turned into one of surprise with a glint to his pupils, and you swear you’ve been struck by an arrow to your heart.
“Yaaaay! Thank you everyone!” the woman at the front exclaims, pulling her mic from the stand to walk around to make work of the crowd. The white-haired man approaches the edge of the stage with a pleased grin on his face, high-fiving all of the outstretched arms, and the man at the keyboard simply waves a few times before incessantly tuning buttons on his headphones. Drum boy hasn’t stopped playing some sort of loud rhythm as an encore. Your sight is set back onto the bass player, and he’s looking off somewhere else now. Somewhere backstage. 
“Hey!” the white-haired man exclaims once he’s made it in front of the two of you. “Mai! You made it!”
She reaches out to grab his forearm, tugging down harshly so he’s stumbling and dropping one knee to the stage floor, kneeling. “Of course I was gonna make it! Thanks for the tickets,” she’s yelling over loud ambient cheers and music, “this is my friend y/n, by the way. Oh, and this is Gojo, he’s the guy I was telling you about.”
You nod at him, and try to accept his outstretched hand when someone bumps you from behind and your hand is in favor of stabilizing yourself over the divider instead.
You can barely hear the laugh from Gojo’s position on the raised stage. “Just meet us backstage! We can chat for a bit with proper introductions and all.”
As the crowd begins to dissipate with people moving through the sets of double doors out back, Gojo hops off stage to take you and Mai through a side door that leads into a hallway that lines the back of the stage. You look up into the high ceilings with metal structural poles banding between the walls, and the dim yellow lighting in small bulbs bolted to the walls like a runway remind you of movie theater exit routes.
“So, what’d you guys think of the show?” Gojo asks, his arms raised up and hands interlocked behind his neck in a casual-not-so-casual way as he sends the two of you a lazy look over his shoulder. 
“Well, we only made it for one song since miss barista over here was running late from her shift,” she sighs, whacking your arm once with the back of her hand. You glance down and realize you didn’t even have the time to take your frilled and wrinkled apron off. “But, from what we did get to hear, AMAZING! AWESOME! SPECTACULAR!”
Gojo is grinning wide as he turns around to face the two of you, continuing to walk but backwards as he slaps the raised hand that Mai had in the air for him. “I’m so glad, I felt the pressure to please was high since I’ve been hyping up our shows to you for so long.”
“We’ve only known each other for like two weeks.”
“I know. But PSYCH 210 lecture at the ass crack of dawn really brings two people together, y’know.”
Mai and Gojo continue to laugh and talk about random things college-related, and there’s a stirring feeling in your chest that you’re surrounded by people older and much more well-lived than you. You’ve just graduated high school, barely a few months ago, but Mai was a few years older than you, so any time she tries to introduce you to her college friends, you feel the need to perform or be someone that you’re not so they’ll like you, despite the fact that you’re aware of the fallacy in that. And tonight, that responsibility feels much more daunting for some reason.
There are voices heard further down the hall, and as you approach, you notice the drum guy, keyboard guy, and devilishly handsome bass guy are all loitering around in that area, along with a few other people they seemed to have invited backstage. 
Gojo walks up to them, grabbing onto the bass man’s hand firmly before patting him on the back, then slings his arms around the other two. “This is Higurama,” he says, rubbing the top of the black-haired guy’s head with the knuckles of his fist, “he does drums for us. And this is Sukuna,” he says, about to repeat the same gesture to the top of his head but his wrist is grabbed and twisted, “ow, fuck, fuck, fuck– sorry.” Sukuna lets go of his wrist, scowl dissipating into sadistic amusement, and Gojo’s holding his wrist, now slightly red from the burn, with a pout on his face. “He does the keyboard. And all the techno sounds. And some other stuff I’ve frankly no fucking clue about.”
The two of them acknowledge you and Mai, along with the few other people who Gojo seems to know as well, and then Gojo’s approaching the bass player again before resting his elbow up on his shoulder, leaning his weight onto him and the man just crosses his arms across his chest, sending Gojo a side-eye. “Mai, I think you two have met before, but this is Choso. Choso Kamo, our bass player. Best bass player I’ve ever known to be honest. Be careful though, he might bite you.”
Choso scowls, rolling his shoulder back once to get rid of Gojo’s resting elbow. His eyes are on yours, boring into you deep, and when he darts his tongue out briefly to wet his bottom lip, you finally notice the silver lip ring near the corner of his mouth. “Hi. Nice to meet you,” he says, hand outstretched and you shake it with a mention of your name to him. The skin on his fingers feel rough from play, a small sacrifice to pay for the talent he’s harnessed over the years from plucking at strings. His eyes sweep down you once. “Why are you dressed like Strawberry Shortcake?”
“I–” you start, glancing down at your attire and feeling the heat pool in your cheeks, “I just got off a work shift. I work at a cafe.”
“Oh,” he responds, and you notice his hand is still holding onto yours, Your eyes trail the patterns on his skin, visible in more detail up close, and you find yourself lost in every line and swirl and scale and skull and cross, the only thing breaking you out of your trance being Mai’s jab of her elbow to your ribcage.
You gasp, snatching your hand away from Choso, and when you look up at his face, there’s a hint of amusement on it. 
“Babes, he was asking you a question,” Mai says, looking between you and the man in front of you.
“Huh?” you ask, suddenly flustered and you swipe your palm down your work apron to wipe the sweat that begins to perspire at your palm from the lingering heat of his hand.
“I was asking if you liked the show,” Choso says, tilting his head to the side and now he’s allowing his eyes to travel all across you in any way he wants. 
“I loved it,” you respond, almost breathlessly, “it was great. I mean– we only saw, like, one song. But still, really amazing.”  
“Only one song?” Choso asks, his eyebrow raising, “that’s a shame. You’ve gotta come to more shows then.”
Before you can respond, there’s a feminine voice heard down the hallway, sounding an awful lot like the one echoing off the speakers inside the concert venue, and then the blond woman who was the lead singer of the band skips right up to the group formulating in this hallway before wrapping her arms around Choso’s neck and pulling him down towards her in a kiss.
You’re standing there stunned, eyes immediately averting from the scene of the two of them in front of you, but in the corner of your eye you can see his arm wrap around her waist briefly before he pulls her away from him, and the release of her lips from his makes a sound that for some reason creates a pit in your stomach.
“Cho, baby, I just had an insane conversation,” she says, still practically hanging from his neck as she stands on tiptoes, “with this record label guy. He’s apparently hot shit in Tokyo, and he wants to offer us this city gig ‘cause he thinks we’re a potential sign-on, and–”
Choso’s hand reaches to the back of his neck, gripping around her wrist to pull it apart from her other one, and then her arms fall to her sides and her heels flatten to the ground as she blinks up at him. “That’s cool, Sana, but can we talk about that later?”
Gojo’s arms cross his chest as he leans forward, glaring at the woman. “Yeah. And as a band, not just with your lover.”
Sana rolls her eyes and scoffs, placing curled hands low on her hips. “He’s not my lover, bitch. Unless he’s my lover like you’re lovers with a blunt on a sunday– sucked off in a car ‘cause you’ve got nothing better to do.”
“That’s offensive to both of us,” Gojo grumbles but Choso just sighs, unbothered, as he rubs at the back of his neck. He makes eye contact with you again, and his expression sobers as though he forgot for a second that you were still standing there. 
Sana turns to you and Mai. “Hi, I’m Sana, nice to meet you guys. Sorry, I thought you two were some of our other friends, otherwise I wouldn’t have kissed Cho in front of you. I hate PDA, trust me.” 
Mai lets out an awkward laugh as she shakes her hand, and you almost don’t want to shake her hand, but you do just to be polite.
“You didn’t hate PDA that one time I was about to bag the girl I’d been talking to for weeks and you decided to grind your sorry excuse of an ass right up against me in front of her,” Gojo grumbles.
She waves a dismissive hand in the air. “Whatever, she thought you were gay anyways. Would’ve done yourself a favor if you actually grabbed my ass.”
She ignores the insulted gesture Gojo makes, cutting off whatever words he was about to spew with words of her own. “What are you girls doing after this? We’re having a post-show party, you two should come.” She glances at you. “Uh, love, I’d ditch the apron though. Unless it’s, like, some sort of fetish for you.”
You’re defeated as your arms cross your torso to grip the hem of your apron and pull it up over your head, shaking your head a bit to allow your hair to fall back into place, and then you fold the frilly article of clothing neatly before hanging it over your arm. “It’s not,” you sigh, too exhausted to be subject to the title of your occupation anymore. A small flicker of your eyes to Choso tells you he’s staring at you.
Sana shrugs. “So you pretty ladies wanna come?”
Mai shakes her head. “No, sorry, my baby here,” she says, wrapping her arm around yours tightly, “just graduated high school recently, so she’s too young for a party. I’ve got a responsibility to look after her. And throwing her into a room full of sleazy drunk punk college dudes is the opposite of looking after her.”
Sukuna comes around, leaning his arm against the wall, smirk on his face, as he eyes you like you’re something to steal. “Just graduated high school? So you just turned eighteen, sweetheart?”
Mai glares daggers at him. “Get the fuck away from her, Super Senior. You’re icky. Also, case in point proven.”
Sana whacks the back of Sukuna’s head, and he all but growls at her. “Stop being creepy,” she reprimands him before turning to Mai again. “No, I swear, it’s not like that. It’s chill, minimal alcohol. No drugs. Just a small get-together with a few of our fellow friends, and friends of fellow friends, from the music scene.” She leans against Choso’s arm, wide eyes looking up at him, but he doesn’t lean into her. “Right, Cho? No scary guys for her to worry about?” 
His eyes narrow at you, raking down your figure again, and his chest moves a little faster with his breath. “I’m against it. It’s no place for an eighteen-year-old. You’re a fucking idiot for trying to invite a girl who just recently graduated from highschool to a house party. She’s practically a kid.”
Your heart sinks from his words, and you feel juvenile standing in front of him, in a way that makes you angry and embarrassed at the same time, and you can’t bite back the words in time, “Whatever, at least I haven’t been on crack since the day I was born like you probably were.”
Almost all heads in this small hallway snap to you, if they weren’t already there before, wide eyes blinking before Gojo bursts out into a laugh, which dominoes into Mai’s laughter, and you barely register the way Sana looks you up and down once before forcing a smile. Choso’s surprised expression turns into a disgruntled one as he crosses his arms across his chest, and you can’t help but watch the stretch of his inked skin over his muscles as they flex. 
“I’ve never done crack, shortcake, and your lame insult only proves my point on your immaturity,” he scowls, leaning his upper body forward towards you, and his gaze briefly drops to your lips.
Sana comes in between the two of you, pressing herself up against him to get him away, and he takes an involuntary step back and now he’s scowling at her too. She turns around to face you, and there’s that forced smile again. “Uh, y’know what, sweets? Cho is sooo totally right, no place at all for a—I’m sorry, how old did you say you were?”
“Eighteen,” you say with a slight grit to your teeth.
“Oh! Yeah, no place for you, sorry,” she says, with a small jut of her bottom lip to signal a pout.
You roll your eyes at her, then glance past her at Choso who’s looking at you like he’s still got a few retaliating words for you on his tongue, but then he’s dropping his gaze to the neckline of your shirt, eyeing the shape of your breasts, even dipping further down your legs and you let out a scoff.
“You sure enjoy checking me out for someone you think is practically a kid,” you spit back.
He’s not angry this time, the corner of his mouth simply tipping up slightly into a smirk. “I meant you’re too young to drink, but you’re old enough to fuck, so spare me the attitude.”
Your cheeks flush at his comment, nonetheless made in front of a group of people who were practically strangers to you, and you’re about to give him a piece of your mind when Mai grabs your forearm and Gojo places himself between you and jerkface. 
“Woah! Look at the time,” Gojo chirps, glancing at his wrist that was absent of any time-telling device but he rolls with it anyway, “should probably head out now, since the venue’s closing soon. Y’know, grab our stuff.”
Mai nods her head at you in response to his words, sending a single glare Choso’s way before exchanging some pleasantries with Gojo and then dragging you down the hallway with her towards the exit.
“Hey–” you begin to complain, her grip on you starting to hurt, and you eventually yank your arm away from her before she opens the backdoor exit. “Let’s go to that party.”
Mai sighs, leaning her back against the door and crosses her arms. “No way. Your mom wanted me to get you home before midnight,” she says as she glances at the time on her phone, “and it’s close to midnight.”
You roll your eyes. “I’m an adult now, I don’t have to adhere to a midnight curfew, like I’m fucking Cindarella.”
Mai raises an eyebrow at you from the profanity, recognizing the fact that it’s something you just forced into your vocabulary in a way that doesn’t suit you. “I already said no.”
“Take me or else I’m going to tell your mom about the nipple piercings you got last week.”
Mai hisses a sharp breath through her teeth. “You’re a bitch.”
“Take me,” you deadpan.
She tilts her head back so that it hits the metal of the door, and then she’s pushing her back against it to open it, the rush of cold wind from outside brushing past the two of you as she steps into the night and you follow her. “Oh my god, fine. But only for a little bit, and let’s get the lie straight right now–you had explosive diarrhea at the concert so I couldn’t take you home right away since you were incapacitated in the restrooms.”
“What? Why do I have to be the one with explosive diarrhea?” you ask, frown on your face but there’s a skip to your step as you follow her down the street to where she very poorly parallel parked and you open the passenger side door. She doesn’t bother answering you as she settles into the driver’s seat and her car roars to life with a few struggling turns of the key in ignition. 
“No drinking,” Mai says, voice strict with eyes locked on yours, and it’s the last thing she says before she starts driving. 
The house is just a few miles from the venue location, and Mai seems to have been there before since she turns the navigation off once she turns onto a street that has her driving switch to from perusal to more casual.  
Gojo is the one to greet you two at the door with wide eyes and a drink in his hand. You notice he’s changed out of his stage attire into something more casual, and likely in a rush too since his hair is disheveled, and you figured that you and Mai barely got here after they did. The surprised look on his face is quick to turn into a pleased one at the sight of the two of you. “Oh sweet you two actually came,” he comments, waving a hand for you two to come inside, “figured Kamo would’ve scared you off.”
You roll your eyes, “where is that jerk? I still have a few choice words for him.”
“Babes, let it go,” Mai sighs, “Not worth your time.”
“I concur,” Gojo says, “but, if you really want, he’s upstairs putting some of my stuff he borrowed for tonight’s show back into my room. You can…” he glances down at you once, “uh. Cuss him to death? Or whatever you can manage, I guess. But just don’t fuck on my bed, please. That’s my only rule.”
“Why do you sound like that’s a rule you’ve had to make often?” Mai scoffs, amused, while your cheeks feel hot. 
Gojo slumps his shoulders in some type of comical defeat. “I don’t wanna talk about it…” he mumbles, voice trailing off and turning on his heel to walk away while Mai follows him off with more follow-up questions he doesn’t seem receptive to answering. 
Your eyes glance over to the staircase, studying for a moment as loud party music fills your ears before making your way over and up the steps. As you head down the hallway leading into bedrooms, the floorboards creak until your sneakers even over soft carpet, and you hear soft sounds of clattering off to the left. There’s a door that’s half ajar leading into a warmly lit room, and you deftly peek your head through the opening.
Choso stands near the foot of the bed inside a messy room, black boxes and cases and wires surrounding him as he fumbles with unplugging some sort of audio station pad from another piece of hardware. His hand grips tightly around the thick black rubber coating of the wire, and you watch the flex of his knuckles that tense the veins running up his arm, sleeve of the shirt he’s worn all night stretching to accommodate the roll of muscle at his upper arm. With a solid yank, the chord releases itself before the wire whacks him straight in the face and he grumbles a fuck under his breath and he rubs the skin of his cheek, to which you can’t help but let out a small laugh at the sight of. 
His furrowed and frustrated expression turns into surprise as his eyes flicker to the entrance of the room. He stands up straight, and then there’s that bored expression again. “Oh. Shortcake. I thought I said you’ve got no business being here.”
“Yeah, about that, I’m waiting for you to apologize to me,” you say, leaning sideways against the doorframe as you cross your arms over your chest. 
He sighs, eyes moving away from yours to busy himself with the jungle of equipment he’s practically drowning in, as if he couldn’t be bothered by your presence right now. “Apologize for what?”
You make your way inside the room, foot pushing aside anything sprawled on the floor that’s in your way so you can continue to approach him, and you stop just when you’re just a step away. His gaze is still set to the ground as he’s crouched over slightly, but it shifts from the speaker he was toying with to the shape of your shoes instead.
“Apologize to me for being so crass,” you say, “after we had just met.”
He slowly straightens his spine, and you’re a little shocked to find the height that he has on you. His expression is curious, eyes narrowing slightly like he has you all figured out already, and it pisses you off. “Crass is such a prissy word to use, princess. Try ‘apologize to me for being a massive dick’ or something, and I’ll start to take you more seriously.”
“Why are you so rude?” you ask, anger building up inside of you all of a sudden. “I’ve barely met you, I don’t see how I could’ve upset you in any way. Yet you’ve already insulted me in multiple ways tonight, and it’s not a cool look for you. Trust me.”
“You’re the one that basically called me a crackhead,” he counters, but there’s no real offense behind it.
“Yeah, because you called me a kid,” you say, face tightening even further with anger, “even though I’m an adult.”
He sighs, closing his eyes in irritation, and tilts his head up to look at the ceiling briefly as his mouth hangs slightly open, all as if he’s running thin of the capacity to deal with this conversation, and then he looks back down at you again. “Shortcake, I didn’t call you a kid ‘cause of your age. I called you a kid ‘cause you’re just so–” he starts, eyes traveling down your body paired with a vague gesture of his hand towards all of you, and you find yourself shifting on your feet to stand a little more poised, “you just seem so innocent and clueless and, uh, forgive me, naive.”
“You’re the clueless one here if you still think negging a girl will get you anywhere with her,” you say, hands clenched in fists at your side now.
There’s a hint of a smirk on his face as he tilts his head at you, some of his dark hair falling over his forehead from the motion and a few strands weave with his eyelashes. “I’m not trying to get anywhere with you here, sweetheart, unless you’re wanting that,” he says, voice almost purred at the end as he steps over a guitar case on the floor to get closer to you.
You’re unable to make eye contact with him when he’s close and you can smell the earthy notes of his cologne, mixed with another scent that seems more distinctly him that makes your head spin. Your gaze takes in the sight of his forearm, the one with scattered tattoos trailing up his arm but not yet fully inked in. You wonder what he’s saving the space for, and what he’s willing to let in. 
When your gaze flickers up to his face again, you’re a little surprised to see his expression is softer. He suddenly holds his forearm up in front of you. Your eyes signal confusion to him, but he just keeps his arm up the same.
“You’ve been ogling my tattoos since we met,” he says, voice low, “if you’re curious, then just have a closer look.”
Your breath picks up in speed, and you hesitate for a moment but it’s true. You were curious. Your hands shakily hold onto his forearm to keep it still as you study the ink on his skin. You twist his arm as much as his joint allows, and he lets you handle him in any way you want, and you swear the snake tattooed on his skin moves as if it were alive. A dark blossoming rose with highlights of burgundy red catches your eye near his elbow, and you brush the back of your hand against it. Your fingers accidentally find his pulse at his wrist, and you find his heart is beating fast. 
You run a flat palm up his arm, the skin to skin contact feeling intimate, and your fingers stop when they tuck under the fabric of his sleeve. You feel the warmth and curve of his bicep, lightly wrapping your hand around it, and you blush at the sight of how small your hand looks on him.
“What does this one mean?” you ask, not meaning for it to come out as a whisper, but you feel like his answer is meant to be kept a secret. Your thumb swipes over small roman numerals permanently etched into him over muscle.
“It’s my dad’s military tag,” he responds, voice quiet like yours.
You tear your gaze away from his skin to look up at him, and you realize he’s closed enough distance between the two of you to where his face is just inches away. From the moment you looked up, his eyes have been on your lips, and his brow furrows as if he’s fighting some voice in his head that’s testing this harmony between the two of you in this moment. 
You swear he’s about to kiss you, since there could be no other explanation for the way he was looking at you, but instead he clears his throat and his face is first to distance from you before he pulls his arm back as well, and then a small step backwards. “Sorry,” he says, and he almost sounds awkward. It startles you, because it’s the first time he doesn’t sound cool or calm or collected.
“That-” you start, “...wait, what are you sorry for?”
His eyes widen, and you see the heaviness under them for a moment, “uhh…I’m actually not too sure.”
Your head feels clear now that he’s not close enough to breathe in, and you blink a few times as your annoyance from earlier resurfaces amidst the lingering energy he just broke between you two. “Start with ‘I’m sorry for calling you a kid, and then also just now calling you naive and clueless,’” you say, foot tapping impatiently, “and then, in front of all your bandmates, mocking the fact I’m not old enough to drink, and shamelessly traveling your eyes over me, and then–” your breath catches slightly as the words fail to leave your tongue, cheeks feeling hot, “and then saying–” you try again, but the thought only falls flat, and he’s taking a step closer to you again.
“And then saying that you’re old enough to fuck?” he asks, finishing your sentence for you, but there’s no remorse in his tone at all. 
His hand suddenly finds the small of your back and he pushes gently so you take a stumbled step towards him, like he needed to have you close to him again.  His lips brush against the top of your head, and the sensation sends a hot feeling through your chest. “Choso,” you reprimand him.
“Fuck,” he exhales, like in cynical disbelief, “my name sounds so sweet coming from you.”
It makes no sense, but you grip his shirt at his chest just to make contact with him, and you brave yourself to look up at him, wondering if he can see the hint of worry in your eyes, because he already feels like something you can’t resist.
His eyes are dark now, different from the tenderness in them before, and he’s freely studying the features of your face. “I don’t want to fuck you, Shortcake, if that’s what you’re worried about. You’re a little too good for me to do something like that.”
His words say one thing while his eyes say another, his arm wrapping around your waist to keep you close, and you’re astonished at how little he cares about the clear contradiction in his words from the way he holds you. His gaze slowly travels down from your eyes to your lips.
“What about–” you start, heart beating fast in your chest as you see the glimmer of the silver ring pierced through his lip. You bite back the words.
But he reads your mind, because his head dips down towards yours and he captures your lips in his, slow and sweet at first before pressing more firmly, more decisively with both hands flying to hold your waist. A moan muffles in your throat at the sensation of his bare fingers coyly traveling under the hem of your shirt, and you can’t help but slide your arms up over his shoulders, locking them behind his neck to pull him down closer to you, and he sighs in response as he presses your hips flush against him. The chill metal of his lip ring has the plush of your bottom lip tingling cold, and when his tongue swipes across to warm it for you, your mouth opens with ease. You taste spearmint on his tongue, and his lips curve against yours in what feels like an amused smile, large hands now slid so far up your shirt that his fingers reach the band of your bra.
“Hey, Cho, do you know where–”
The trill of a feminine voice in the air cuts through harshly, and he pulls his lips from yours but not without a moment of reluctance. You two turn your head to the door, and you see Sana standing there, eyes wide and blinking as she takes in the sight of the two of you standing in what feels like a guilty proximity from how her eyes silently curse you. 
You can only manage an awkward laugh, fist shoving against Choso’s shoulder but his hands are still placed firmly on the curve over your lower back, dangerously close to the plush of your ass, and your hips are practically pinned to him while you do all you can to lean your upper body away. “Oh–sorry, this…is not what it looks like–”
“I…” Sana starts, and you can see the hurt in her expression, but she quickly corrects it, “Oh! Ah, was just lookin’ for Cho here,” she says, making her way into the room, and a harsh shove of your fist against Choso’s chest finally has him relenting to let you go. Your posture immediately stiffens when she approaches Choso’s side, and she playfully pushes his arm but the effort is weak. “Kissing girls in Satoru’s room is seriously not a good idea, Cho. That freak probably has cameras in here to make sure people don’t bump uglies in his room again after that New Year’s party.” 
Choso gives her a pointed look, like he wasn’t caught up on that drama, but you’re just standing there with your eyes flicking between the familiarity of the two people standing in front of you. Why wasn’t Sana jealous? She was looking at you ten seconds ago like she was a whole lot of jealous. 
“What are you looking for?” Choso asks her, and she holds her red plastic solo cup with her drink in it out for him to hold as she crouches down to the floor to sift through the equipment now surrounding the three of you.
“My lucky mic,” she says, “Gojo said it’d be here.” There’s a hint of something in her voice, something that mirrors betrayal if you’re perceptive enough. 
You watch Choso lick his lips once, eyes darting to you, before he’s crouching down too to help her look. “For something that allegedly means a lot to you, you sure do a shit job at looking out for it,” he comments with a sigh before pulling out a black case from under three other ones and handing it to her. “It’s here.” 
“I’m–” you say, taking a step back and almost tripping over a guitar case, “I’m, um, going to head downstairs. Mai is probably looking for me.”
Choso raises an eyebrow at you from where he’s still crouched down next to Sana, and he’s about to speak when Sana cuts him off.
“Okay. Bye,” she says, still rummaging through things mindlessly even though she had already been given what she was looking for.
Choso makes a move to stand up, like he wants to see you out the door, but Sana’s hand grabs him by his forearm, eyes still not meeting his, and there’s a beat of confusion in his eyes as he studies the side of her face. But you know what sort of look she probably has in her eyes right now, and you know only because you’re also a girl, and all girls know what it’s like when a guy you love doesn’t want you in the way that you want him. All you can do at this moment is feel sorry for her.
The atmosphere in the room begins to suffocate, and you head out of the door in a rush. 
.
.
.
present day. summer.
“He kissed ya the day he met ya? Hmph! That wouldn’t fly with me,” the man seated beside you says, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he shifts slightly in his seat to puff his chest out. 
“Hmm,” you hum as you look out the window wistfully, memories that you had locked up for so many years opened like a pandora box that fills your chest with warmth but has your fingers trembling with anxiety because you know how it all ends. “You wouldn’t…let a man kiss you on the first day he met you?”
The driver humors you with a hearty laugh from his chest, at least. “Not talkin’ about it that way, darlin’. I’m talkin’ about my daughters. I’ve got two girls of my own. A man should keep his hands to himself the first time he meets a lady. At least that’s what I’ve taught ‘em.”
There’s a small smile that tugs at your lips at his words, the love he has for his daughters heard clearly through his strict tone. You left out a lot of the details that probably would’ve angered him on your behalf even more, so the fact he still ended up getting worked up about it has you a little amused and reflective at the same time. “How old are your daughters?” you ask, tucking strands of your hair behind your ear, watching the wind-rustled plains of grass that you two have been driving by for a while now.
“They’re a little younger than you,” he comments, his expression now a bit more serious, “one just graduated from college, she’s startin’ more school in the city soon, and the other’s still in highschool. She’s turning sixteen next week.”
“Ah, sixteen,” you muse, “that’s a confusing age.”
“You got that right,” he gruffs, “the other day, she called me on my way home from work to bring some drink called a boba. Fifty-two years of life and I never even knew there was a damn thing called a boba! Why would anyone want swirlin’ stuff in their drink?! Anyways, the shop got her order wrong, and when I brought it home, she refused to drink it, called me the worst dad ever, then stormed upstairs to slam the door on her room. I turn to my wife, and she’s shakin’ her head at me like I’m the one that did something wrong!”
You laugh, then press your lips into a smile. “I’d have to agree with her on that,” you joke, and he lets out another disgruntled noise that has you laughing again. 
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve lived with my wife and those two girls for over two decades,” he sighs. “I’m used to it by now. All three are equally pains in my ass, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Your smile drops a little as you look at him more contemplatively. There’s a glimmer in his eyes as he speaks, and you realize it’s familiar, but the answer of where you’ve seen it before fails to arrive.
“My youngest,” he starts again, “she’s been listenin’ to really loud music lately.” He presses one of the buttons underneath the AC vents, static noises coming to life before he changes the output to bluetooth. “My wife says it’s some sort of phase, but I’m not likin’ the music. Always sounding tempered and inappropriate.” He plays a song from his phone paired to the car, speakers flowing with music, and a chill runs down your spine the moment the first few notes fill your ears. A song so painfully familiar, so connected to your soul it’s as if your heart still keeps time with it to this day. 
“See what I’m talkin’ about?” the man says, “Lots of words about skin and cigarettes.” With a shake of his head, he lowers the volume. “She’s obsessed with this band, it’s probably a band similar to your old lover’s from the sound of it. She’s got posters of ‘em up on the wall, and she took the picture of us on our first fishing trip together out of the picture frame on her desk and replaced it with this man. This silly-lookin’ white-haired man that always looks like he’s just pretending he knows how to play a guitar. Hmph! She keeps saying ‘dad, I wanna go to their concert!’ There’s no way in hell I’m allowing that.”
You stare down at your lap, brow furrowed from the realization flashing through your head, and your thumb nervously passes over the skin of your other hand. In your periphery, you see him glance over at you once, and he sighs before stopping the music and speaking up again.
“It’s fine,” he says, “my youngest got her sister into the same band, and she likes one of the other ones. Plays bass. He’s too rough-lookin’ for my daughter. Arms covered in tattoos, he’s even got some on his face! She keeps dreamin’ about havin’ him for a boyfriend, but if she brought that home, there’s no way I’d approve. I’d scare him off with my rifle.”
Your heart is beating fast in your chest, and you realize what a small world it is. Or, you realize just how big Choso’s world must be now. So much bigger than he or any of the other members of his band could’ve ever imagined. For once in a lifetime, so rare and pure, are dreams that are fully realized. 
“Gosh,” you respond when you realize you’ve been lost in your own revelations for too long, “that’s an…extreme response. You sound like my father, though.”
“Hm,” he responds, “I’m sure. Did your father approve of this lover of yours? The one that’s makin’ moves on you so fast and too soon?”
You lean back in your seat with your head hitting the headrest. It’s been years since you’ve felt like you’re being lectured or reprimanded for anything, but the feeling comes back to you at this moment as if no time had passed at all. No matter how old you get, you’ll never forget how humbling the feeling was when you thought you knew everything at eighteen, just to look back and realize you didn’t have a single clue.
You sigh. “No. He didn’t approve. Far from it.”
.
.
.
seven years ago. autumn.
chapter 2. the juvenile & the delinquent.
[to be continued]
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a/n. eeeeeppp thank you very much for reading n supporting my new fic!! i hope you enjoyed :') still a lot more to uncover n unpack hahah i'm so nervous to start a new fic but i'm also very excited!!! i love choso sm but i also love nanami so this is gonna be interesting to write. also TYSM to everyone that wanted to be on taglist for this omg your support means the world to meeee. love you all sm.
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taglist: @joemama-2 @sweetpo1son @lilluna12 @polarbvnny @4y3sh4 @sedona-the-l0bster @horisdope @ilovenana88 @thexmistress @atsushirolll @flvrrg0d @strawnanamilk @nighttwingg @indieotterxoxo @pirana10 @bakuhoethotski @tvdumarvelhpsimp @lavender-hvze @whereflowerswenttodie @alwaysfreakingout @kaitoluver @3xv5s @wrenabbadon @erwinslut @winsga18 @ynishalee @yungbloode
love u all so much!!
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lookingformoondrop · 6 months
Note
+ Yandere Andy (for my previous request for suggestive themes with a fem reader and him :33)
Yandere!Andrew Graves x f!reader - Drabble thing
TW: TOXIC ANDY, Yandere themes, obsession, possession, manipulative Andy, suggestive themes, foul language, Andy can't keep his hands to himself, threats & intimidation, Andy calls Reader dumb bunny, not proofread.
♥︎Notes: I think out of all the yandere content ive ever written, this is the most toxic. Please readers, if your irl relationship mirrors any of this behavior, LEAVE THEM. Andy is extremely toxic, and if given the chancs hed lock up his bunny for only him to see. I dont condon any of this behavior, but i support Andrew's rights and wrongs. Hope this meets your expectations <3.♥︎
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When dating Andy, there are certain types of rules you must follow.
They're silent rules, sure, never spoken outloud, but you've been with Andy long enough to know that if you break them... there are consequences.
Rule No. 1 : Never dare speak to another man
You can still remember this rule vividly.
It was sometime in April, and you had practically begged Andy to drive you to the mall for new spring dresses.
When he finally agreed, you both drove to the mall and walked around for an hour, just window shopping all the sweet spring deals.
You found a lovely dress and went to try it on. Unfortunately, you realized the size was too small, so you asked Andy to browse the store for something bigger.
This is when the incident happened...
When you finally finished changing, you walked out of the clothing booth with a couple of other items and one adorable shirt that lacked a price.
You searched for a store employee and spotted a young man.
"Excuse me, but is there any way you can find the price of this shirt? I can't seem to find it," you handed the shirt to the employee, and his cheeks turned a dusted pink
"W- Well sure. I can just ask my co-worker to-"
"Fuck off."
You jumped at the cold voice beside you and noticed a very pissed off Andrew. His hand was suddenly on your hip, squeezing your flesh very aggressively.
"I- I'm sorry, sir, but I was talking to this young lady, not you," the young worker looked nervous.
But Andrew was having none of it, "fuck off before I forcibly make you." His eyes narrowed on the man, as he pushed you against his chest.
The employee retreated for the employee back door, his tail practically in between his legs, leaving you absolutely dumbfounded.
You pushed at Andy's chest, "Andrew what the fuck?! He wasn't doing anything wrong, he was literally just helping me find the price tag for some-"
"Do you like pissing me off? I disappeared for not even 5 minutes, and you're letting men drool over you? "
His grip on your hip got tighter, assuring that it would leave a mark for later.
At a loss of words, Andrew leaned in and whispered into your ear,
"You're making me sad, Y/N... Do you honestly want another man?"
His voice sent shivers down your spine, making that spot between your legs ache, and that chilling feel graze your skin with goosebumps.
"Andrew, I don't want anyone else! Please don't be sad, I'm sorry for misleading you," Your eyes got glossy from the guilt that weighed down on you.
He sighed, disappointed. He gripped your wrist, using the hand that was on your hip to rip the clothes you had out of your hand and onto a random display table.
"You're not a very good girlfriend. But I love you anyway."
He walked towards the exit, caressing your hand while he did.
You quickly leaned that Andrew was not going to tolerate any sort of social interaction with other men, and if you broke this rule, he'd be very, very disappointed in you. Simple as that.
Rule No. 2 : Where you're going, what you're doing, who you're with, and why is all of Andy's business.
A year into your relationship, you decided to take a spontaneous girls trip with your friends to a different state.
You'd only be gone for a couple of days, and since Andrew was always busy working, you figured that he wouldn't mind.
Thinking this, you texted Andrew.
Andy
I'm sorry I haven't texted you. How was your day? **
You
It was good! I'm actually packing right now for a trip. **
Andy
.... **
Andy
What trip? **
You
A girls' trip. I figured since you're busy all the time, I could take this weekend to vacation! **
Andy
.... Where will you be going? **
You
My friends cabin**
Andy
Who will you be going with?**
You
My friends? **
Andy
Whose Cabin? Which friends? Whats their number? How can I contact them? How many nights are you staying? What's the wi-fi situation like? How far away, is it? What's the exact location? Who knows about this trip? When will you be coming back? Will there be any men there? Is it just girls? Will you be changing in front of them? Will you be sleeping separately? Whose car are you taking? How will you get there? By what transportation? Do your friends have boyfriends? Are there any wild animals?**
You
I... Andrew, how could I answer all these questions? I dont... I dont know.**
Andy
Then you shouldn't be going. **
Andy
It's in a location I've never been to nor seen before. So many things can happen to you, my dummy bunny. It may be a cabin, but I know you can't handle being alone for so long. Save me the trouble, Y/N, you're not going. **
Andy
I'm only looking out for you. You're the love of my life. How could i possibly live with myself if something happened to you? Y/N, you're the air that I breathe, the food i consume, the blood i need to pump my heart. Are you trying to run away from me? **
You
No! Andy I swear I'm not! I won't go if it makes you uncomfortable. I just thought... **
Andy
You don't think many things through, dummy. You're such a headache sometimes. **
Andy
So, what's for dinner? I'm hungry. *
Rule No. 3 : You belong to Andy, and only Andy.
"Hey Andy! Guess what I found?!" You walked up to Andy who was lounging on the coach watching some shitty news.
"What's that, Y/N?" He lazily turned his head towards you.
In your hand was an old photograph of you and an old prom date, taken long before you ever met Andrew.
You were cleaning your bedroom and found a couple of old boxes underneath your bed. Once of which, held many old memories of your youth.
"It's all the prom pictures my mom took of me! Don't I look cute?" You leaned your upper body over the coach back and showed Andy the dusty photos.
You expected a snort, a grin, maybe some mockery for your cheesy dress but instead Andrew tensed up his jaw, his eyes narrowing.
He grabbed the photos from your hand and slowly looked through them.
"You are very pretty, Y/N...." his hand squeezed the photos, to the point of crinkling them.
"Andrew, the photos are being!-"
Suddenly Andrew stood up and quickly crossed the distance between you two, letting the photos be dropped to the floor.
You gasped as Andrew smashed his lips against yours.
He grabbed onto your face, pressing his body into yours.
His lips were warm and slightly chapped, the brief smell of mint and cigarettes overpowering your head.
He broke the kiss, a strange hunger dancing in his eyes as he looked at you.
"You're so beautiful... You're so beautiful being mine, and mine alone. Mine, mine, mine, and mine, until the world comes crashing and burning. " He grinned at you, a dark shadow crossing his face.
"Andrew! I- I know im yours, but the photos are being stepped on-" You tried protesting, but instead, you felt Andrew kiss you again, this time going deeper. His hand squeezed your cheeks, attempting to make your jaw open, in a way asking for entrance.
You couldn't help but open your mouth wider, a victim to the rose colored glasses he always placed on you.
Your eyes closed, while Andrews' opened.
He stared at you with a strange intensity.
You, of course, could never hear his thoughts, but if his words were spoken outloud he would scream how much he wanted to rip that prom date to shreds.
Watch him bleed out of your hardwood floors until it stained from that fuckers punishment.
You belonged to HIM.
You were HIS.
And darling, he would go to heaven and drag you back to hell with him if he had to.
He broke the kiss and squeezed you into a hug,
"Promise you wont ever leave me, okay?" Andrew rested his head on your shoulder. You breathed heavily, wiping the saliva from your chin.
You nodded in a daze, the ache between your legs overpowering any kind of hesitancy you had.
Andrew smiled into your neck, reaching his hands under your ass to prop you up around his waist.
"Come on... I want to continue this in the bedroom. I want to see more of you..." He said in just above a whisper.
"Only you..."
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Thank you for the ask (and patience)!<3
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iwaasfairy · 1 year
Text
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┌─ “ ! „ FLIGHTY
tw. uncle!satoru, incest, age gap, breeding, coercion, dirty talk, praise, brief choking, baby as pet name, some jealousy, degradation, corruption kink, sneaking around wordcount. 6.7k
a/n. ♡ commissioned by the amazing @antique-remains ♡ thank you so so much for commissioning me and for being absolutely wonderful!! i really hope you enjoy your fic,, i had a blast writing it so i kinda went a little crazy with the word count but! hgdfsy listen i hear gojo satoru i jump into the deep end i hooopppee you enjoy it lovely!!! <33 and thanks a million to the beta readers ilY so much
gojo satoru x fem!reader
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The door rattles with a loud noise as you make it two steps down the hall. Two whole steps before long arms wrap under your shoulders and you’re whirled around against an equally lanky body, while your giggles fill the hall. They echo down the old family house, pristine and proper, and give your mother a well deserved moment of rest as she rolls the suitcases inside. “Hey- There’s my favorite little squirt,” his lithe voice hums gleefully when you press a childishly sloppy peck onto his cheek and squish your face to his shoulder, and Satoru barely bothers to give your mom a quick smile before stealing your entire attention away and putting you into his neck with a smile.
“You gotta visit more frequently, nee-san. I gotta show my favorite niece what I’ve learned at monster school, don’t I?”
Your chubby cheeks glow hot as you parrot him. “Monster!”
“Your only niece. And you’re more than welcome to take a few babysitting shifts, Satoru. Lord knows I could use it,” the soft-spoken woman would then chuckle, and leave you to it.
That’s how it was, always. You remember finding the days where snow stuck to the ground and made the house feel so much toastier, the most lovely of all- no excuses, no exceptions. Not that you could give a reason as to why, back then. It was probably because winter meant family time and holidays and presents, and most of all, it meant packing everything up into the car and driving down for New Years. Without fail, a white winter meant Gojo Satoru — and without fail, you’d look towards him like a world faithfully orbits the sun.
You can’t thank Satoru enough for taking his role so gracefully, at the time. When it was still fun.
Now winter means being locked up in your room while that same man parades around a different princess each year, and makes your start to the new entirely unenjoyable. After a good few hours of hearing the drinking and talking grow louder and louder -and then eventually quieter again, you finally dare peak your head around the corner. Because if you’re lucky, uncle Satoru will have no self-control. And the copious amounts of alcohol that festivities require will leave him blissfully unaware of your scowl at the foreign pair of shoes by the door. Your bare feet pad on the floor as you make your way past the soft rumble of the tv, and into the kitchen to pop open your own box of cake, and another bottle of bubbles for yourself.
The frosting sticks to the roof of your mouth three bites in, and makes everything a lot more palatable. The smell of the obnoxious festive scented candles, the deep beats of the slow make-out music reverberating through the walls of his otherwise impeccable apartment. The knowledge that you’re meant to wait out the inevitable turnaround from festive cheer to loud moans down the hall as the countdown hits 0. It’s been this way for years now, and you find yourself wishing spring would come a little faster.
You’d never be so lucky, though. You drop the fork in surprise when long fingers sneak around your neck to squeeze gently at the soft parts of it, and a breath brushes over the shell of your ear. “Boo.” Festive cheer and a softer familiar musk overtakes your senses.
“Satoru, you dick,” you squeak out a little too loudly, halfway to turning when a strong arm wraps around your hips to allow him to slot a little closer to your back. He peers over your head at the cake, breath dusting over your hair. Uncaring, of course, about the level of appropriateness or the way it sends a shiver up your spine.
“Bit early for a late night snack, isn’t it? You could at least have asked your favorite authority figure to join you.” His smile gleams in the low light of the apartment like a million diamonds, white head of hair tousled and bed-head like. The hand on your hip squeezes ever so softly before you shake him off, and cross your arms over your chest in defiance.
“You’re barely an authority, let alone my favorite. Besides, aren’t you kept busy with… Keiko? Kyoko?”
“—Kimiko. Why?” It’s then you make the mistake of looking up into those perfect baby blues through the half-tinted shades, and despite your earlier frostiness, he still searches for a handhold on your shoulder, softly brushing his thumb along the collar of your shirt. He stares like he can see through you, where your heart beats wildly in your chest. You’d dare bet money that sometimes he definitely tries to. But the calculating glances that flick over your face are kept quiet by a faint hum.
“She’s gone home. I thought maybe we could celebrate New Years together this time.” Satoru is always smiling. It crinkles his eyes, seems to ooze out of him like syrup. He’s good at that. At feeling trustworthy. But— “We still have a good twenty minutes until the fireworks. Come celebrate. For me?” There’s no mistaking the way he leans in to nudge your face up and puts on an exaggerated puppy-like pout. Gojo Satoru is anything but trustworthy.
But hard lessons are slow to stick. You find your mouth opening almost like instinct, sugar-coated tongue running over your lips as he waits. “Fine, until after the fireworks. Only ‘til then.” His mouth corners go a little more cat-like when the grin grows further, and he rubs his heavy palm and long fingers over your head with a soft chuckle.
“Right? You’d never leave your poor old, lonely uncle Satoru alone on a special day, right?”
The couch is abandoned for a slower sort of swinging around the living room once the clock starts getting close, and Satoru places another flute of golden bubbles into your hand— grinning as you move to the beat. Try and resist as you may, Satoru has given you much to be thankful for. The heat of his hand back on your head distracts you from the way the drink goes down too quickly, letting him pick your hand into his to pull you closer. “Have you ever slow danced before, pretty girl?”
You don’t get to say anything before you’re in his arms, hands to his chest and quickly sliding down to wrap around him instead, swallowing down the stirring heat that hits when he chuckles. You must be crazy. Must be. Your heart feels like it’s banging in your throat. But Satoru rests his chin on your head into the embrace, and swallows you up into his arms. And your throat burns like a raging fire yet again. It isn’t like that. It isn’t like that. You’re the one making it weird, and you know it. But you can’t help the goosebumps when he presses a kiss to your crown, or when he pauses to look down at you.
Grinning like he’s got the world in his palm, he leans in to almost brush noses with you. “This is kinda romantic, isn’t it?”
“Gojo Satoru,” you immediately feel the warmth flare up on your cheeks and ears, eyes going wide. But the grin is back instantly, and he chuckles.
“Alright, don’t get your panties into a twist.” The air of his breaths dusts over your nose when he stares, and doesn’t look away. “You’re so obvious when you want something. It’s cute.” He’s awfully, disturbingly pretty. However weird it is to notice that about your own mom’s brother… you never were able to lie yourself out of that conclusion.
The clock ticks loudly, counting down. But you can’t tear yourself away, blinking blankly at the way he gives your face a once over, before those eyes find yours. Glittering brilliantly, pulling at your sanity. You did always adore him. The first few fireworks go off loud in the distance, when your own uncle Satoru dips down and kisses you. You freeze. Warm lips and tongue pressing into your mouth- he full-on kisses you and runs a hand along your neck to pull you into him. A muffled squeak makes it’s way out of you, warm tongue getting to taste all of him. You- you don’t stop it. When he pulls back, his mouth lingers over yours, and that devilish mouth whispers, “happy New Year, baby,” without any ‘sorry’s.
+
The flowers are already starting to bloom in the colorful pots that swing outside the windows when you nurse your own cup of tea, and don’t bother lowering your eyes when bright azures meet your gaze. There’s something there that tingles your tongue, faint memories biting at your conscious, but too swift to grab hold of. You can’t read him anymore. It makes the familiar glint in them feel anxiety inducing. The gaze shifts, and you feel your spine relax. All tall, perfect, unfairly casual grandeur of him goes back to entertaining your cousins and Megumi— and your attention is finally allowed to shift back to your mom.
“Deary me… That child seems like he’ll never grow up,” she softly chimes, turning your way to take your hands, “I bet you’re twice the adult he is.” Her slight frown is one of fondness though, of care and concern; all of which only makes your stomach drop further. Your mom’s so enamored with her tight-knit little dream of a family. She’s completely unaware, too. Of the deadly, treacherous words that your mind whispers to you when it knows no one’s watching. Your mother’s warm smile remains. “If you ever decide you can’t keep up with him anymore, you’re more than welcome to move back home, honey.”
“I know, mom— but I like Tokyo. I like my friends here, and- my job’s here, and I like my job.” Her hand makes an encouraging circle over the back of your hand, and she nods.
Her warm smile doesn’t keep away the cold flare that travels down your back though. “And you also like Satoru, for reasons I still can’t wrap my head around.” Her look over in his direction has you resolutely studying your lap instead, as heat travels back from your chest to your face. “Even when you were little, your uncle ‘Toru could do no wrong. It was infuriating at times…” You try to put on a smile when you feel her eyes return back to you, and let the cup bear the brunt force of your anxiety. “Now I just think it’s sweet. I know I couldn’t deal with his antics anymore, for even a few days.”
“He’s…” You trail off before you can even get started, and let your tongue swipe along your bottom lip to get rid of the pesky memory again. You feel like your moral compass has been compromised. Your stupid little crush was meant to go unacknowledged, and fade. No one was supposed to be any the wiser. Satoru was never meant to do wrong. He’s -what- exactly, you try to ask yourself. Sneaky? Childish? The reason you can’t look your own family in the eye without blushing like a schoolgirl?
Your heart blooms when you catch a glimpse of his smile as the beer bottle brushes his lips, and he finds your shape again across the room.
Before you get a chance to look away, uncle Satoru’s already calling your name again with that sing-songy tone that’s got you hooked; and pulls you out of your seat with a few slow blinks. “There’s my favorite girl.” He swings an arm over your shoulders, and invades your senses yet again. “It’s getting a little too stuffy in here for your liking, hm? Mind if I steal her for a while?” His sister barely gives him the tiniest of eyerolls before waving you both off. And the white-haired force of nature doesn’t even stop to ask you. He knows he’s right.
Before long, the glances of family get captured by other things, and the honorary member of your family gives you a knowing look that you mirror. Not that Satoru would let it stop him if he saw. You only just look away from Megumi’s grimace before you freeze into place. There’s the tiniest of kisses to the skin behind your ear where Satoru whispers in your ear. “I was really missing you, baby.” There’s a heat that spreads all over you as he continues, barely hiding his affections. “Whenever I see you… I just wanna…”
Your eyes go wide when you turn to stare at him, then quickly around at the rest of the guests. Luckily, everyone seems too preoccupied to notice the way he wraps his arm around your waist to steer you towards the front door. “What? I wasn’t done.” he chimes, eyes glinting over like the Chesire cat, “I wanna come annoy you, is what I was going to say.” Alarm bells should go off. You want them to signal your disaster. But no such thing happens, and the way his lips almost drag over your pulse makes your entire body feel like you’re filled with static. “You know uncle Satoru loves you. Step out with me for a bit.”
+
The miserable drum of rain has no way of drowning out the thoughts in your head. A heat-caused thunderstorm should just be a minor inconvenience, but it feels awfully telling about your current state. The string of messages of Satoru’s latest -what you can now assume is- ex blink back at you as you check the time again, and sink deeper into the couch. The apartment always feels a little too cold when you’re here alone. And sure, you’ve been living here too, but you’ve been on your very best behavior all this time. Taking up only the space he was willing to give.
So you sit in silence as the room gets darker and darker, and instead of checking up on work mails, you let the icy silence of the apartment sit beside you. The messages weren’t exactly frantic, but— the door clicks softly across the room, and the pitter patter of the rain on the skylight grows even more impatient. “Uncle ‘Toru,” you breathe as he drags his wet self in, only to suck your bottom lip into your mouth.
There’s only a few times you’ve ever had the displeasure of seeing him like this. One was the first summer his best friend vanished into thin air, a shallow copy of your beloved left behind in its wake— and every few years after that. It drains all the color out of him, squeezes until there’s nothing left.
He looks drunk. He smells drunk too. But you still cross your arms and straighten your back, swallowing. “Ki-chan was worried about you. She says you two broke-”
“She’s right.” Satoru drops his bag by the tv, and unceremoniously kicks off his socks in the middle of the living room, slauntering towards the couch.
“Is that why you’re like this?” Your worry is undermined by a harsh snort and an equally unamused chuckle, before the white-haired man comes to a halt before you.
“Don’t be stupid. You and I both know it’s not.” His eyes are usually like the ocean on a summer day, bright, all-consuming, and peaceful— there’s nothing there when they land on you now. Just the dark, dreary image of a cloudy, uncaring vastness. “Get up, I’m trying to sleep here for the night.”
“I’m not leaving.” You’re not sure if the slight tremble in your voice is self-inflicted, but do your best to bite through the electric tension. “She also said that you’ve been saying all kinds of things that make no sense. Things about— me. And that’s why you guys broke up. She’s worried that you might try to do something to me.” Gojo Satoru is a lot of things. More things than a man with his constitution should be, all in all. Your light breath cuts the tension just enough for you to speak up again, staring up at him from your increasingly vulnerable position on the couch. “Well, will you?”
“Get up.” Before you have another chance to ask more, he takes you by the arm and pulls you up out of the couch in a split second, leaving you stumbling back. “Run off to your room now.” Smart, coherent thoughts leave you. Satoru looks like he’s hurting. Those long, white lashes and blue irises are no longer bright and understanding. They frame a simple look of distaste at the sight of you, and your rapid heartbeat falters. “I said, now.” As your tongue brushes your lips you search for something— anything— to say, but it seems he doesn’t want to let you. With large steps, he walks you back by your collar until your back hits the wall, and you stare up at him.
“Isn’t it bad enough that I already want you? What more do you need?” The cold, still wet touch of his thumb brushing your collarbones tingles down your entire body. “Tell me off. Hit me. Do something.” He’s basically begging now, through hard glares, teeth and a raspy voice. “Tell me off for treating you like this.”
You think you should. But all that you manage to say is a soft plea, eyes searching in the dark. “Uncle Satoru, I- I’m sorry.”
“Baby.”
His grip makes your shirt dig uncomfortably into your neck, but you barely feel it. Instead you raise your hands to cup his face, watching how the furrowed brows straighten out after only a few tight breaths. You mumble out a breath of his name, and allow him to pull you closer to his body until you’re pressed to his chest, face hidden against his collarbones. Until he leads you to look up at him and lets his lips brush over your eyelids, and the tip of your nose. “Your mom would kill me if she knew.”
You know him to be right. And still, you let his mouth meet yours. Meet and claim your tongue, hiking your one thigh up to allow him to melt against you. Rolling his narrow hips just a little too effectively against you. It’s way too much all at once, hot and cold meeting in the dark where his body grinds against you. You shouldn’t… allow any of this, right? But it feels too good to stop. Satoru clearly thinks so too when he grunts your name against your mouth, and his crotch rubs into your center.
It’s not hard to know what he’s thinking about as he drags his lips down the soft of your throat and sucks kisses into the skin. His strong fingers slide under your shirt to anchor at your waist, and leave goosebumps all over. “My pretty girl,” he ends up mumbling as his tongue makes shapes at the base of your throat, “you’re all mine. All fucking mine. Mh- never gonna let anyone have you.” It feels so good. Hearing that, however distorted by the moment— makes you feel like you’re floating. So much so, that it scares you. To think anyone would have such power over you.
Satoru goes in for another kiss, but you end up sliding out of his arms by mere chance, panting and shivering from the wet hands all over you. You take one single deep breath, and rush off down the hall.
+
When you sit at dinner the next day, rolling your veggies around your plate as you cast him weary glances from under long lashes, Satoru doesn’t falter. Doesn’t even blink out of place once, like the night before was just a dream. You’d really believe the slight ache of a hickey at the base of your throat to be an unlucky bruise, if you couldn’t notice the faint glances your way. After a while, his telltale grin slips back on when you startle at his voice, and he points his fork towards you. “You’re acting weird, you know that?”
“I- I’m acting weird?” Your voice pitches up almost comically, and his gleeful chuckle has your heart racing despite yourself. “W- about yesterday-”
“I’m taking you somewhere tonight.” Though the interruption should annoy you, he looks so content and smug as he stuffs the last of his food into his cheek, that you can only frown. His hand runs through his mess of white hair, noisily smacking his food as if to make a point. When you don’t immediately respond, he nods to himself, before leaning in. “I woke up with the worst headache of my life, I’ll have you know. But I’ve gotten over myself, I promise. And now I just want to hang out with my favorite niece.”
“Only niece,” you end up parroting, clenching and unclenching your hands into your skirt. “Where do you wanna go?”
“Call me ‘uncle ‘Toru’ again, and I’ll tell you.” You never tell him no.
As you walk through the hall with slow steps, the light falls like broken petals through the paper walls and casts everything in a hazy glow. For all your protests, uncle Satoru follows close behind, chirping all kinds of encouragements, giggling most of the way through. The lazy patterns he draws on your shoulders with his thumbs, or the brief brushes of his nose along your cheek, kisses behind your jaw— it all should make you feel a lot guiltier than it does. Instead you’re just wound up, skin tingling with every touch the longer it lasts.
“Are you gonna tell me why we’re here now?”
He hums that melodic agreement, before pointing you towards the rather familiar door at the right. “If you go in there, I will.” At your slight frown, he only presses on. “I promise. Come on, trust your favorite uncle.”
“You’re not my favorite.”
His voice grows low as his lips brush your ear, and those strong arms start gliding down the sides of your back. “Liar.” The kiss that is pressed to your pulse is slower this time, humming in your throat and making you swallow your words. His mind hasn’t changed after you ran out. Instead of focusing on that- on him, you reach for the door and slide it open, finding your and Satoru’s room barely changed at all. His hands come to press at the sides of your hips, long fingers trekking all over the skin he can reach. “I’ve been thinking for a while now…” His playful voice dips a little lower, and your breathing grows slower and slower. “I always meant it when I said you were my favorite... but-”
“But it’s a little different now, hm, pretty girl? When did you change so much?” Those hands that start sliding up along your thighs to hike your skirt up to your belly, and though you try to keep it down with a little breath, he denies it. “You don’t like it? That I wanna see all of you?” The little hum to your soft throat makes you feel like you’re charged to the brim, crackling each time he moves. It’s unbearable, and yet, you couldn’t move a muscle if you tried. “Tell me that I’m a bad guy.”
You can’t focus on anything. His nimble fingers toy with the edge of your panties, and the puff of his breath sends a shiver down your neck. “W-why’d you take me to our old- ah- place?” Satoru doesn’t wait for you to catch up before the frilly fabric drags along your thighs. Your awfully wet underwear lands around your feet, and he leans in to nudge your face to his. Kissing you over your shoulder as his body covers you from behind, and his waist pushes up against you. His tongue steals your attention away from his hands just long enough to lose track of them before they’re on your tits, squeezing them and making your cunt clench in anticipation.
“Because I wanted to prove something.” He rolls his clothed waist against your ass and makes that awful feeling even worse, forcing a whimper out of you. And that mind-numbing fucking laughter returns before his hands start moving to your center. You’re not sure if you want to push him away or ride his fingers with the slow drag of rough fingertips along the inside of your legs— not that it’s up to you anyway. “You’re no longer that good girl that’d idolize uncle Satoru, right? You’ve started thinking about other things when I’m around, hm?”
Fingers slide through the embarrassing amount of wetness between your legs with another noise from him, pressing his hardening cock harder against you and grinding it against you- and you have to fight the urge to just get face down on the floor for him. “F-fuck, baby, you’re already dripping all over my hand. Does uncle ‘Toru turn you on?” Two prodding digits slide into your clenching hole as he grins against your cheek, and his free hand meanly pinches a nipple. “C’mon, tell me. Tell me how much you like me.”
“Mh-ack, I- li-like you.” He goes to pull his hand back but you reach for it, and push it back inside to have his hand palm rubbing up against your clit. “A lot, I like you a lot! Please.” The curl of his long fingers inside you is enough to have you shaking, leaning back against his chest with one shoulder, and hanging onto his wrist. It doesn’t take much to have him smiling into the hickey he’s sucking under your jaw, and fighting back your resistance just enough to start pushing another finger inside. The slight ache is almost instantly replaced with the pleasure of having your clenching pussy filled so full. Everything blurs a little when you reach back for him for support, and his strong hand fucks smoothly in and out of you. “Mhm, ah, ah, I love my uncle Satoru. Sa. To. Ru.” Slick runs down your leg and makes his entire hand sticky, and he hums in agreement.
“That’s a good little niece. Love riding my fingers like this? You’re shaking, baby.” He knows what it does to you, must’ve known for a while, when his voice is pressed to your skin— it leaves you a mess. You try to respond, but your tongue gets all tangled, and you can only whimper and nod as his fingers fuck right into the spot you need them to. Your back curls against him as your legs get shakier, and your poor clit is grinded against his palm until you can’t focus on anything else. It feels so good. Good, good, good, good~ You want to keep riding his fingers forever.
“Lay down for me,” he rasps when you really start rubbing back against his hand, pussy so messy and full and your lips glossy with spit— and you almost cry when he starts pulling back.
“No, no no nonono, uncle Satoru, please. I’m close,” you squeak, only to allow him to push you down by your shoulder and watch as he slots his fingers between pink lips. “Hm- I- can I cum? Please?” Your thighs rub together as you lay down, and Satoru kneels before you to pry them open wide enough to fit his shoulders between.
“Shh, lift your ass,” he quickly chants, getting comfortable between your legs as his hands pry you open, “let me taste my favorite pussy the way I want.” His devilish mouth is on you before you can register it, hot and instantly too much. Your puffy clit is laved in licks and sucks that hit the spot just right, and every nerve end fires in a way that no one else could ever accomplish. His hums and the brilliant glint of his eyes as he watches you tear up and moan, lifting your ass closer to his face as his tongue licks and fucks your dripping pussy. He laughs when eating you out so good your eyes cross, before latching his mouth around your overstimulated nub for real, and sucking the light out of your vision.
Your legs shake before you’re clenching them around his head with a long, high-pitches whimper and a string of moans that roll through your body— and Satoru just keeps going, until you’re twitching and you try to push him away. Your breathing is rapid and shallow as you blink the black spots on your vision away and loosen the grip you have on his hair, but your legs still shake as he brushes his thumb over your pussy without pity. “That’s one. Wanna see how many more I can get you to?”
“No,” you immediately squeak, making his smug grin grow even wider. “I wanna… first, wanna have you- i-inside.” Admitting it is different than thinking it. And you’ve thought it, too much to count- but it still heats your cheeks and ears upon seeing the way Satoru’s lashes flutter a little, and he pushes his pants down to take his flushed cock out.
“Yeah? You want your uncle Satoru’s big cock inside you?” His hand wraps around his thick length with a little hiss, sliding his hand over the swollen, dark pink tip as you watch. “Say it properly, and I’ll give it to you.” You roll onto your side to yank your shirt up over your tits, and impatiently shake your ass as you whine out a noise that barely seems to register as you. But you can’t help it. The buzz from your orgasm only made your belly hotter, slicking up your legs and ass and dripping for him- as he sits up on his knees so slide his pants down further.
“Satoru~ please.” His hand moves up and down a few times as he raises a brow, and knocks away your hand when you try to touch yourself. “Please, please, puh-lease~” Your voice cracks when you lay back instead, and knead your tit as you try to pull him closer by wrapping your legs around him. “I want to have- uncle ‘Toru’s cock. I want to have my own uncle’s cock, I love my uncle- and I want- to be his personal pussy to use~” Tears spring up in the corners of your eyes, so you close them. “Now please just put it in. I’ve waited long enough-”
A little chuckle breaks up your begging before he kisses you deep and greedily, and suddenly the hot head of his cock pushes up against your sopping entrance. “Want it so bad you gotta cry about it? Poor baby.” He just about pushes in the slightest bit, and takes a slow breath to stare into your eyes. Pretty. So fucking pretty, all of him. “Sorry I made you wait. Uncle will fill this little niece's pussy up, don’t worry.” Then he pushes in with a slow press on your tummy that makes you blink back tears, as his heavy, hot cock breaks you open a little further, along with your sanity.
The smack when he bottoms out is a brief relief, before he pulls back and uses those strong legs to start really fucking into you, nose to nose. “Letting your own family fuck your greedy pussy like this, look at you. I’m a bad influence, hm?” The weight of him, the brushing of his pelvic bone to your clit, the grip on your thigh and brushing of your tits and every brief brush of his lips over yours is enough to have that coil pull back so tight in your stomach too quickly. You dig your nails into his muscular back as each pap of his balls smacking against your slick-covered ass rings out in the room, and the white-haired man hums. “Uncle Satoru’s your favorite, say it. That you’ll beg for my cock until you go hoarse.”
He presses his nose to your temple, and pants against you- fucking with a rhythm that’s taking the breath out of you. You’re already going to cum again. “Say that you want uncle Satoru’s kids filling up your belly, ahg- go on— mhm, that tight, t-tight fucking pussy.”
“Yes, yes, I want my uncle’s cum inside! My favorite uncle’s ruining my pussy!” you squeak, and then cry out against his neck. “I’m gonna cum again, uncle ‘Toru. G-gonna- agh-ughn- p-please don’t stop.” The thrusts get even deeper if that’s at all possible, lifting your one leg up to grind the head of his cock against your cervix with the position he’s got you in, and goes to cup your pussy. And even that slight touch is enough to have your vision going black and white, head blanking as another orgasm rolls over you and locks your leg around his hips— but the fucking doesn’t stop even then. “Agh-mygodI-ah, ahgh-nh. Uncle Satoru.”
It’s too much, you’re entirely too hot and sweat is rolling down your temple and his chest, but his cock still drives home over and over again like he’s willing to break you in half. You don’t want him to ever stop. “Hearing that filth coming out of your mouth- ugh, mhm, makes me want to keep fucking you forever. For eternity.” His waist bumps your overstimulated clit each time he bottoms out, ring of white around the base of his cock before he throws his head back and moans out your name. “You can’t ever let anyone know how much uncle Satoru loves fucking his little niece, okay? F-fuck. How much I love ruining that little attitude of yours.”
Your both knees are pushes to your shoulders as he moves up, pulling out just a second to fuck between the sloppy lips of your pussy. “Been wanting to fuck you since you moved in. Can’t help but get hard when you’re around. Bad uncle ‘Toru, right?” The head of his cock is so swollen and flushed and dripping with your mixed juices, and he stares at you through narrowed, perfect eyes as he pushes back in and watches his cock disappear into the hot clutch of your pussy, swallowing it up like a whore. His lip is pulled between his teeth as he groans, and fucks harder and faster into you like you’re barely a toy. “But I don’t care. Uncle’s gonna fuck this pussy every day from now on. My pussy. Mine.”
You can feel him in your throat with the way he pounds your pussy until you’re raw, squeezing your throat between his long fingers as his heavy balls hit you. And his mouth covers yours, tongues back together and spit messily covering your chin by the end of it. You don’t think eternity will be enough.
+
There’s some kind of failsafe inside every human, isn’t there? And yours is simply malfunctioning at the wrong times.
The woman hanging off his arm is lovely. Mina, you think it is. She’s smart and pretty and accomplished, and her hair has that perfect commercial shine as it bounces around her shoulders. And Satoru is laying on the sweetness thick, from what you can make out between the giggles and shiny smiles. Underneath the obnoxious shades hiding his pearly gaze from direct view as he makes quick work of scanning the beach. It sits in your stomach with an uncomfortable rumble. Even though you know… It’s for show. It’s all just for show.
You do your best not to frown when he looks back over his shoulder for a second to drag his eyes over you. “We should play beach volleyball!”
And a soft chuckle from the person by your side agrees when you can’t be bothered to. “You got it!” The blond is smart enough to give you a softly encouraging grin that makes you feel vindicated in your exasperation, before you stick up your own thumb. You have no intention of watching Satoru leave hot handprints all over her skin. The young man beside you clearly notices your hesitation, because he smoothes a palm down your spine to straighten you up a little, before blowing out a long breath that makes you smile. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’ll keep him busy if you’d rather lay in the shade for a little longer.”
Kenji’s fingers softly brush along the small of your back, then teasingly slips them under the knot of your bikini, as his mouth comes to hover over your ear. “Or we could sneak away for a little bit and…”
“And get caught for indecent exposure?” you giggle over your shoulder instead of letting him kiss you, and grab for one of the books that had gone untouched earlier in the day to tap it on his head. “We can’t,” you breathe with a smile, and watch as he takes that as a challenge. Really, you’re not one for fighting fire with fire. That’s Satoru’s play, and you don’t have any intention of mistreating anyone. But … the adoring gazes and personal attention does make the whole ordeal a lot easier to stomach. So easy even, that you’re down in the toasty sand with him above and your chest rising and falling rapidly for a few blissful seconds, before the volleyball hits the both of you on the sides.
Your eyes snap over to the head of white hair when he clears his throat, and holds his hands up in mock apology. Serene, picture-perfect smile plastered on his handsome face. You click your tongue, and you can’t hold back the angry echo of his name in your head as he walks up. “Sorry, sorry, my bad! You guys coming or what?” This whole song and dance is just— so frustrating. Despite your best effort to keep it in, a slight tick in your brow still makes its way onto your face.
“You guys start without me,” you breathe after a few seconds of staring Satoru down, allowing Kenji to pull you up from the sand to dust you off. “I’m going to go grab the sunscreen and the coolers from the car.” Kenji makes an attempt to stand, but you wave it off in favor of putting some space between you and the tallest as his crystal eyes drill holes through you. “No, I got it. Thanks though.”
By the time Satoru’s “girlfriend” walks up and slips underneath his arm, he raises a brow your way, and the glitter in his eyes makes you convinced that he knows just as well as you do. You do your best to ignore him — them, but you can still feel the sting of him appraising you through those stupid shades. Asshole. You swing your hips as you walk away, kicking up sand every time your slippers bounce up.
At least the short walk allows for a moment to cool off, and collect your thoughts. There’s no sense in getting fed up. He’ll just get home and start cracking jokes like always, pretending like he didn’t do something wrong in the first place. Nevertheless, you allow yourself only a short sigh and admittance of defeat in the little game you play as you click the trunk closed again.
Before you turn and walk into a solid chest, almost scaring you skittering back against the hot surface of the car. Large hands descend on you, one to wrap around your waist and the other covering your mouth- before he leans down further into your space. “So, so grumpy all the time.” Uncle Satoru’s rough handpalm slides down to grab a handful of your ass before he lowers his face to yours into a languid kiss, tongue tasting vaguely like strawberry as he drags it over yours with a hum. “Stop trying to make me jealous.”
“I’m— I’m not! And ‘m not grumpy. I just don’t want to see you,” you end up breathing out, wrapping your arms instinctively around his broad shoulders when those long fingers start toying with your pussy through the awfully flimsy fabric. “Satoruuu~”
His chuckle is matched with the impatient way he rubs two fingers up and down along your slit, and slides his other hand down your smooth stomach to start peeling it all off. “Call me uncle Satoru, c’mon baby. You know what I like.”
You barely have a chance to place your hand over your mouth to keep quiet as he noses your bikini top out of the way to drag his pink tongue languidly over your puffy bud— and those baby blues find you through wispy, white lashes. “Uncle ‘Toru, unc-cle ‘Ru— You’re gonna get us caught.” He sucks part of it into his mouth and leaves a mean mark with his teeth, before grinning.
“Hmm. I don’t care.”
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munsster · 1 year
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hii!! i'd like to request a steve harrington x fem!reader fic pls <33 reader confesses to steve, but he says he doesn't like her. then reader's all 'okay fine, i'm gonna move on' and when she actually does that, steve is 🥺 lots of angst please and some steve grovelling teehee <33
gut feeling
A/N: okay yes 😏 i screwed this up the littlest bit, but i hope it still tickles ur fancy. also i’ve seen this done for king!steve and i wanted to write it for s4 steven
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
Summary: You have big feelings for Steve, he’s just not sure he feels the same way. 3.6k words.
Warnings: angst, but it resolves into fluff, unrequited love trope, lots of feelings, friends to lovers?, CURSING!, italics, established friendship, feat. Keith 😑
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"You think it would be gross if we kissed?"
Steve thinks you might actually sound hurt, but he also thinks the face he's making is hilarious beyond belief: kind of contorted and screwed inward, nose scrunched and trying really hard to batten down a grin. You glare at him from the passenger's seat, arms crossed tight over your green Family Video vest.
You think he's wonderful despite his naiveté. If only he knew how handsome you thought he was, all caramel locks and big brown eyes and the kind of smile that reaches his eyes before he's even thought of it. No wonder he has an ego up to the moon. No wonder he still manages to weasel his way into the creases and crevices of any living creature's heart. Even yours. Hell, especially yours.
"Yeah, duh!"—and he's so sure of it, you could cry—"You're like the little sister I never had!"
You chuckle but you look like you're about to hurl yourself out of the car or get yourself arrested for manslaughter. Thank God he's only a block away from your house, or he'd never see the light of day again. Does he really think of you like that? The soft laughter peters out into a grating silence that burns right down your throat and feels like hard metal settling in your lungs.
He doesn't dare glance over at you. He only bites down hard around nothing and grimaces, eyes set hard on the lines dashing beneath the grill of his car. Jesus Christ, he does not think of you like that. And he begs whatever stupid pride is keeping him steady in this nonexistent pissing contest to leave it be, but its jaw is set in the tender meat of the game.
"Don't have to be so jovial about it," you grumble.
"What?"
"Mine's on the left," you grumble, nodding out the window. Oh, he's definitely in trouble. You only ignore him like this when he's done something boyish to a fault.
"I know. I drive you home every—hey!"
"Bye," you coo, booking it up the steps to your door, refusing to turn over your shoulder for fear that you'll burst into tears upon seeing him smile or frown or crack the slightest look of confusion.
He watches you slam the door and rolls the passenger window up with a frustrated sigh. Where the Hell did that come from and why. All while you're sitting against the foot of your bed, chattering into the phone at Robin, still wearing your uniform and tugging at strands of your hair as expletives weave themselves between every three words.
"Oh my Fucking God, I'm so fucking embarrassed right now, Robs—Does he—? Does he think I'm some sort of fuckin' baby? I just don't—"
"He's just being Steve, okay? He probably didn't mean it—"
"The way he looked at me, Robin, I felt like a fucking imbecile. Of all the dickheads in the world I could fall for, my heart chose Harrington? Maybe I'm the idiot." You sigh and kick your feet out, the frustration winding up new nerves and letting them go like tight springs to fling out over your body.
She sighs and it rattles through the grainy speaker. "You're not an idiot; he has his moments. Don't beat yourself up, you know how he gets. He's probably not thinking straight, just... tell him? The worst he can say is—"
"That I'm like a sister to him? Oh, how delightful. That's even worse than just flat out admitting I'm unattractive."
"You're not unattractive, don't do that."
"I am to him," you groan.
"Hey," she hums after a beat of crackling silence. You close your eyes and grip the sickly yellow receiver a little tighter.
"I really like him."
"I know."
"And it sucks."
"I know." The other end rustles and you let out a curt sigh just as you move to stand. "I love you, and I'm here for you. Especially when dumb boys make you feel like shit. You'll always be the most amazing and most beautiful girl in my life, don't forget that."
"Thank you. I'll see you, Robs."
"Take it easy."
Steve wakes up to an ache in his neck and a soreness in his knuckles. You didn't call him last night. And he's assuming you didn't call him before school this morning because his alarm clock flashes eleven, first period starts at eight-thirty, and the tone his ancient landline emits is shrill enough to deafen a man. Let alone wake him up in a cold sweat. He concocts a sick feeling in his stomach of burnt orange shame and maroon guilt because he has to wait until closing shift tonight to explain himself to you.
But by then, he's feeling spiteful. You weren't home when he went to pick you up and he waited ten minutes and knocked on the door in bulk. Until someone who was not you answered and told him that you'd gotten a ride with some jerk from the Hawkins High football team. That's not how it was originally said, but that's how he heard it. So you're avoiding him? It makes him spit up a little in his mouth, and he's going about twenty over the speed limit the entire way to make it on time.
By the time he can fling open the glass door and hear the sound of the tiny bell, he spots you in the back corner with a stack of tapes under your arm. Listening to music. To drown him out. And it makes him frown. Six hours. That's how long he'd have to endure this, then he could go home and not call you and not be able to sleep.
The casette in your Walkman can only run for so long, right? But he watches you rewind it after an hour and a half and slumps against the front desk when you grab a new stack of tapes from behind him. He simmers down after the first half of the shift, and of course, the fact that you won't talk to him rubs him the wrong way, but what's even worse is that now you're bumming rides off of losers on the worst football team in all of Indiana.
He gets worked up thinking about that guy's motivation and how many times he probably tried to make a pass at you. Steve would never do that to you. Even if he wanted to, he's a gentleman at heart. He could beat that jerk to a pulp just imagining him giving you the look. God forbid that sucker puts his hands on you. Steve would get charged with battery before ever letting that happen.
It's not like he can say anything to you about it either. He's pissed, and he knows himself. He'd get all angry and confrontational, and you deserve better than that. It's his fault you got there first, and it's his fault you got to stocking, and it's his fault you're tuning him out. But he didn't think what he said last night would be worth all that trouble.
"If you keep up the optic blast, I'm gonna buy you a ruby-quartz visored monocle." And that droning voice could only belong to one overbearing manager.
"What do you need, Keith?" Steve grumbles, and out of the corner of his eye, he catches you looking to the front of the store to watch the encounter with a smirk.
"Duty calls, Harrington. Corporate sent us more shelf space. Need someone to unload it into the office," Keith murmurs, shooting a glance your way, "And, uh... it's kind of unwieldy, so get the kid to help you out."
It makes Steve's eye twitch because you're not some kid. And if you heard Keith refer to you as such, you'd unleash a fleet of curses on him. Only Steve is allowed to call you that. Because it's funny, duh. You're a year younger than him, obviously he's going to use that to his comedic advantage. Oh.
He lets out a sigh—"alright"—and leaves Keith to man the front while he skirts to the back of the store and leads you by the hand through the office.
"'The Hell, Harrington?" you hiss, but you keep your fingers locked between Steve's, abandoning the rest of the tapes on Keith's desk and jogging to catch up with his stride. As forward and demanding as his grip may be, you have to admit, the warmth of his palm is comforting and it makes your heart race because you've never held hands with Steve before. And in any other circumstance, you might've been able to enjoy it a little more.
"Keith told me to tell you that you have to help me bring a shelf in from the truck."
"Oh, I have to?" you bark, now pulling your hand away and putting your headphones around your neck once you exit through the back door with him. "And you didn't think to give me a warning before yanking on my arm?"
"Yes, you have to, and maybe if you weren't listening to that shit so loud, you would've been in the loop." It comes out far more harsh than he intended, and that was exactly what he was afraid of happening in a confrontation with you. His brow softens, and the tension in his upper back and jaw dissipates into his own self-pity party. "And I didn't yank on your arm. Or at least I didn't mean to, so I'm sorry for that much."
Steve hops up into the truck and offers you a hand you don't take as much as you both wish you would have. Because he looks like a kicked puppy, and you have to stop yourself from cheering yourself on. Maybe this will be your first literal step towards getting over him. Once and for all.
After about fifteen minutes of heaving and ho-ing, the two of you manage to haul the shelf into the office as per Keith's request. He was right: it was unwieldy. The awkward grip spots caused a lot of overlap, and you both flinched away from the physical contact in a matter of milliseconds. But Steve couldn't deny he felt bad, and you couldn't deny that you definitely still had feelings for him.
You grab your previously abandoned stack of tapes to scurry out of the office, but Steve stops you by the elbow. And you glare back at him.
"Sorry. The... yanking, I know"—he shoves his hands in his pockets and looks down—"Look, I'm not entirely sure what happened last night in the car, but it clearly made you uncomfortable, and I'd like to apologize."
He can see the neurons firing when he looks you in the eye, but he can also see that his apology wasn't effective in the slightest. Because you're still anger-ridden and fuming at him. You put your headphones on and go back to restocking shelves.
He checks the digital clock above the door. Two hours till eleven. Great.
And they creep by like refrigerated molasses. Second by second. Every time he glances at the clock, only a minute has passed. Eventually, though, he starts cleaning up for closing: vacuuming, cleaning the windows, fixing the display. And he finds himself getting a little more efficient at checking tapes back in and rewinding them only so you'll cruise by the front—scowling at him, but nonetheless at him—to grab a new stack and shelf it.
Five minutes to closing and a sleek, blue sedan pulls into the parking lot, and you practically beam at it, grinning and skipping to the front. You grab your bag from under the counter next to Steve's hip and shove your Walkman into it.
"You know, my car works perfectly fine," he grumbles, "don't have to replace me with some football jerk." He knows that struck a nerve because your smile immediately flickers away into a squint.
"That football jerk is bilingual, a painter, and lets me listen to the music I like in his car."
"But that's not the rules," he whines, desperately defending himself against some sports guy who's probably taking advantage of you.
"Well, I like him and he's nice to me." You sling your bag over your shoulder triumphantly, marching towards the door.
Steve is aghast at the implication. He thought you liked listening to the radio. Plus he took Spanish and art for the required two years, it's not that great of an achievement.
Still, he sputters out, "Yeah, well—"
You wave over your shoulder. "Later, Steve."
Since when did he become such a loser.
He watches jerk-face open the car door for you then glance over to wave at him with a perfect smile and perfect hair and perfect manners. What an asshole. Steve does not wave back.
"That's the kinda guy she likes?" he fusses into the phone, palming his face while Robin chuckles on the other line. This whole time he thought for sure you liked the self-assured, cocky, college-age boy type. And now you're dating a high schooler. Come on, jerk-face is not even that good looking.
"First of all, they're not dating. Second of all, don't lie to make yourself feel better; even I can admit he's basically a Greek god," Robin says, shoving a handful of popcorn into her mouth. "Third... why do you care? You’re acting like it’s your job to protect her, but it’s not. She’s an adult now, you know, she can take her of herself.”
He lets out a puff of air through his nose, blinking hard and leaning into the pale yellow receiver. Then mumbling: "She told you."
And she replies, cheerily: "Yup."
"Well—! I just... don't want to see her get hurt. I know that type of guy. I used to be that type of guy. He's bad news, I can tell."
"Right,” Robin scoffs, “It's definitely not because you love her.”
"I don't love her. She's just a baby, and we don't even like the same things. It would never work out between us, there's no connection." They both know it’s a lame excuse, but it’s worked up until this moment. It’s worked since the day you met. You’re too young, the end. Sure, you can be cute sometimes, but you’re also a pain in the ass and you two could never get along long enough to stitch together a real relationship.
But Robin sees through all of that shit. And she’s over it.
“Okay, maybe, but she listens when you talk about cars, and you buy the albums she likes even when she only mentions them once. Plus, you both love Dustin like he's an extra limb”—she’s right, you love that kid to death and Lord knows Steve looks after him like a son—“I think as much as you wretch and complain over her being too young and the connection not 'being there', it seems like you try an awful lot to get her to like you."
He immediately rejects the idea with a scoff.
"Of course I’d want a cool person to like me, old fuckin’ habits die hard. But that's all. She's cool and has a good sense of style and tells the best jokes and makes me feel smart and listens to me, and right now I'm feeling pretty crazy because maybe I do love her and I blew it because... because? Because I don’t know why—but she's probably sitting in some jerk's car listening to her favorite songs and watching him paint the sunset while speaking Spanish or whatever."
Robin closes her eyes, and Steve’s annoyed by the fact that he can hear her smirking. "Jesus Christ, I need to start charging you idiots for my time"—and she sighs—"Just... tell her all that cheese. And maybe throw in an apology or two. I don't know, do what you usually do when you pick up girls.”
He’s frustrated. And annoyed. But he throws a thanks at her anyway and stomps down the stairs and to his beamer. It’s not until he’s shrouded in the piercing light of the convenience store that he realizes three things: he’s still in his work uniform, it’s midnight, and he’s pretty sure he does love you. He grabs a bouquet, not even realizing it’s a bouquet of amaryllis and baby’s breath—he’d prefer roses, but ‘tis not the season, as the cashier told him.
Minutes later, he’s muttering under his breath like he’s mad, waiting for someone to answer your door. And thank God you do.
“Steve—?”
“Oh, shit, did I—were you—?”
“Oh, no, I was just…”—thinking about him—“nothin’. What’re you doing here?”
He pushes a furious hand through his hair, then tucks a chunk behind his ear, worrying at his bottom lip. More nervous than he’s been in his whole life. Then he flashes those soft brown eyes at you, and you’re toast. You step onto your doormat and shut the door behind you because he starts into his sentence like a blazing fire:
"I feel so stupid, and I’m sorry for saying you're like a little sister to me; I don’t believe that, and it couldn’t be further from the truth. You're not like a sister to me, you're like the only thing that matters and I feel like I wanna learn another language for you and take a cooking class for you and listen to your music with you. I just, I mean I’m trying to say you make me want to be a better person, and I feel like I’m already a better person whenever I’m around you. I... what I’m saying—and I promise I’m getting to it—is that I’m sorry for being so stupid and not seeing it before, but I think you're beautiful and I'd be honored if you'd forgive me and maybe consider letting me take you out sometime. Like on a date."
He’s breathing heavily, looking and feeling manic, and your eyes are wide as you slowly process his confession. It goes down like sweet wine, floral down your throat and settling in your tummy like candy. But still: what the fuck? Is he insane? Are you insane?
His hair is flopped to one side, and his work vest is snug around his shoulders. You step forward slowly, and the creases in his forehead seem to go smooth. And you point to the bouquet.
“For me?”
Steve glances down. "Oh, yeah, got em for you. Sorry they're not roses, it's not—"
"I love them, thank you."
He nods. And you smile. And despite how beautiful the soft pink and white flowers are, you’re not particularly focused on their safety when you hook your arms beneath his and rope him into a hug. It’s clearly just what he needed when he goes pliant and heavy against your chest, smiling into your neck as his hands wrap over your shoulders.
"I think we might both be stupid,” you whisper.
He chuckles. "Yup. Just a couple of stupids. Geez, what kinda pair are we?" You both pull away. Only to look at each other squarely. To see a smile creep and creep across the other’s face. And he cocks a brow and says, "By the way, worst twenty-four hours of my life—"
And that’s saying something after the last three years.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Steve, I was just so—"
"I know."
"So confused and disappointed, it was—"
"Torture, yeah, don't even think about doing that ever again,” he teases, pinching your side and scrunching his nose when you pinch him back.
"Yeah. Well, never tell me I’m like a little sister to you ever again.”
Gross.
"I don't plan on it"
With the slow bat of your lashes, and the tender curve of your lips, he can’t not think about kissing you. Not in this light. Not under the meddling moon, and not holding your waist like cupping pools of honey.
Then you look away. For all the shit you talk, he manages to make you far more shy than he ever anticipates. And it gives him butterflies to see you duck away.
"You know, I think you're pretty beautiful yourself, Harrington.”
Oh, he’s blushing now. The blood gushes hot to his face, he could sweat buckets right here and now. You can probably hear his heartbeat. Jesus Christ, what’ve you done to him? You can tell he’s nervous when he chuckles softly. "Does this mean I can start giving you rides again?"
You pretend to weigh your options. As if there would ever be a better alternative. "Only if you let me play my music sometimes.”
"Absolutely. I never liked the radio much anyway."
You let go of him only to cradle your bouquet in both hands, admiring the petals while Steve puts his hands back in his pockets.
"Then I'll see you later," he says. Grinning ear to ear, mind you.
"Yeah,” you coo, “I’ll see you."
With one hand on his shoulder, you plant a kiss on his willing cheek and let him go. But before he can make it to his car you holler, “Wait!” and he jogs back over to you.
"Did I forget somethin’?"
“Yeah,” you poke, "you forgot about our date."
He tilts his head a little, brows furrowed. "Our... our date? What do you mean our… Ohhhh”—he nods in understanding, suddenly hit with a wave of excitement and embarrassment—"Does tomorrow work? We could grab lunch or dinner or something and maybe stop by the arcade or—oh, the fair's in town, that could be kinda fun, unless you don't want to, I mean—"
"Steve?" you hum.
“Mhm?”
"I'd love to."
And suddenly his ego is miles through the roof; he's nodding and grinning and it’s like he can’t wait to wake up tomorrow just to see you again.
"Me too. Okay. Yeah! I'll see you then."
"Bye, Stevie.” You give him a small wave, and the shroud of plastic around the bouquet crinkles like the corners of his eyes at the idea of tomorrow.
masterlist
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rockstvrdotcom · 10 months
Note
Hey cutie!!! Can i request a s/o who has a cold looks, she has experience vibes, a cruel mouth with sharp words. But in bedroom, she's innocent and curious about everything as shit, that makes her partner super surprised and they want that naive just do for them.
I wish it for EJ, Toby plssssssss. 🥺🥺🥺 (With NSFW kinda yummy yummy 😋)
Oh anyway, I love your writing alooooooot, it's really gooood just took my heart away at the first line!!!! Kiss kiss kiss 💋💋💋💋
I'm your 💅 lovely anon. Nice to meet you!!!
oh em gee HIII NICE TO MEET U TOO MWAH MWAH THANK U FOR THE SWEET WORDS <33
while i was writing ej i was gonna say "he rolled his eyes" but then i remembered he has no eyes..
IM SORRY THIS IS SO LATE AGSJDHSJS </333 FORGIVE ME NONNIE
tw/cw: praise, oral sex, unexperienced reader, fem reader, also just regular sex, slight spanking
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EYELESS JACK ☤
out of the bedroom, the words that come of your mouth are completely different from in the bedroom.
"shut up, jack" you spoke sharply, rolling your eyes. he tch'd in response. you were both watching a movie on the couch, his arm around your shoulder; and your arms crossed.
you acted like you hated the affection he gave you, but really— you adored him. that's why when a sex scene in the movie came on and you felt ej's hard on, you asked if he needed help.
"don't think of it as anything special, i'm just bored. that's all" you spoke, giving him a cold stare, your back facing him. you turned around, your cheeks flushed with a light pink color.
"yeah yeah, whatever" ej said, biting the inside of his cheek. he looked at your face, eyes admiring you. he cupped your cheek with his hand, and leaned in for a kiss. you kissed back, hands around his neck to deepen the kiss.
he then took you by the waist, sitting back down on the couch and straddling your hips onto his; the bulge in his pants rubbing against your crotch and his lips still connected with yours.
you pulled back from the kiss, looking at him with a slight hint of worry. "i.. tell me if i'm doing something wrong. i've never done anything like this before." you said, looking at him with innocent eyes. his eyebrows raised in suprise, then he gently nodded.
"you're doing great." he smiled slightly, his fangs slightly poking out. you bit your lip hard to hide your smile, trying to look grumpy at his compliment. suddenly, it was like the outbursts of rage, the scratches, and the hard glares were from a completely different person. your mean and cold facade was cracking— and ej wanted to get through to you completely.
you got on your knees on the floor, patting his legs as a signal to spread them; and he did. you hooked your fingers under the waistband of his sweats and boxers, pulling them both down just about enough so his cock could spring out.
you looked at his size, your mouth slightly agape. you contemplated if you could actually take him or not— he looked down at you with a cocky smirk on his face, causing you to scoff.
you got back to work, wrapping your hand around his dick and slowly jerking him off. you noticed his breathing became heavy, making you feel more confident as you picked up the pace of your hand.
you hand came to an abrupt stop; he looked down at you confused. "what happened?" he asked, resisting the urge to buck his hips up for more friction.
"c-.. can i lick it? like suck it i mean— you know what. nevermind." you tried to ask, but just turned your head away in embarrassment. you puffed out your cheeks in humiliation and narrowed your eyes. you were about to start jerking him off again, until he grabbed your wrist.
you turn your head to look at him. "you can do it." he said, encouraging you and twirling a piece of your hair around his finger. he grabbed you by the hair, bringing your face inches from his dick.
you cleared your throat, trying not to stare at his dick— that was literally right infront of you. you straightened your posture and placed your hands comfortably on his thighs.
you started off with little kitten licks— which jack thought was adorable by the way; then slowly progressed. and finally, your lips were wrapped around his dick, your head bobbing up and down and your fist jerking off whatever part you couldn't take into your mouth.
"mm.. fuck, you look so cute right now.." he purred, biting his lip as he smirked. you looked up and glared at him, only to have him tuck a stray hair behind your ear.
he thrusted his hips up into your mouth, making you gag as he hit the back of your throat. he did it again, and again— something about the way your throat clenched around him made his dick throb with need.
"fuck, baby— 'm cumming" he grunted, doing one last thrust into your mouth before releasing with his dick deep in your throat. you hummed around his dick, then sliding off with a 'pop' when he gave you the sign it was ok to.
"suprised you've never done this before, you're a natural." he joked, playfully punching you in the shoulder. you pushed his hand away, scoffing.
"oh shush." you said, gritting your teeth. he laughed. he pulled you up, making you stand on your feet. he swiftly turned you around then sat you down on his lap.
"so she's back to her old self huh? you remind me of the grinch." he poked at your puffed out cheeks. you slapped his hand away, cursing at him.
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TICCI TOBY ✽
he watched in amusement as you curiously roamed your hands over his bare stomach. "don't look at me like that." you demanded, and he scoffed. your eyes averted back to his torso, admiring his toned abs that were literred with all different types of scars.
"you're the one who has their hands all over me." he retorted. you couldn't see his face, but you could hear the smirk in his voice.
"just shut up, toby" you said, tracing his abs with your fingers. he chuckled at your actions. after a while, he took ahold of your hands so you couldn't touch him anymore
"hey, pretty, why dont 'cha just hop on my dick and ride me already? pleasee?" he begged. he noticed the change of expression in your face, you looked more flustered and serious.
"what's wrong?" he asked, his playful tone now replaced with a more stern one. he took a piece of your hair and played with it as he awaited your answer.
you avoided eye contact. "i- uh... i'm a virgin." you spoke, barely a whisper. you scratched your head in awkwardness, awaiting his response. you were still looking away
"what'd you say? i don't think i heard you correctly." toby asked, genuinely. you silently cursed him.
"i'm a virgin.." you spoke a little louder. you finally looked up at him to see him confused. then his expression brightened up, a confused laugh escaping his throat.
"why the hell are you laughing, asshole?!" you yelled, your embarrassment obvious on your face as you bit your cheek. he held his hand up to his mouth, trying to stop himself from laughing.
"nonono- i'm not making fun of you. i just didn't expect it! that's all. you seem like somebody who's experienced. no wonder why your so curious.." he reasoned, holding your chin with his hand. you muttered a 'whatever'. secretly, the thought of him being your first time made him throb.
"don't worry, sweetheart. i'll guide you." he spoke, and you weren't able to tell if he was mocking you or if he was being genuine. you sat up straight, starting to take off your clothes, one by one. now you were left in your matching lacy red bra and panties.
"shut up. i know what i'm doing, i'll do it myself." you voiced coldly. you roughly undid his belt, then his zipper. you looked up at him, and he nodded. you pulled his pants down, eyes roaming around; coming to a halt when you saw his happy trail peeking out of the waistband of his boxers.
your eyes drifted lower down, looking at the huge bulge in his boxers. you felt your wetness pooling in your panties, your pussy clenching around nothing and wishing it was toby. your clit ached to be touched, a whine almost escaping your throat.
"what? too big?" he said, making you look up. a cocky smirk was plastered on his face. you tch'd and palmed him slowly through his boxers, watching him automatically shut up and his face turn a little red.
you hooked your fingers under the elastic waistband of toby's boxers, pulling it down. you watched in awe as his cock sprung free; now you were really questioning if it was too big.
you were already wet, so you figured it'd be fine- and he fingered you before this. you climbed ontop of him, feeling his eyes watch your every move.
your palms were sweaty as you moved your panties to the side, aligning the tip of his dick with your entrance. you winced and bit your lip before lowering yourself onto him.
"fuck.." you heard him groan as your walls enveloped his cock. you looked up at him, his eyes blown with lust and cheeks lit up with pink.
"a- am i doing this right?" you asked, your voice shaky as you slowly rode him. he nodded.
"the only thing your doing wrong is not going fast enough." he complained, tempted to grab you roughly by the hips and bounce you up and down on his cock until you can't say anything but his name. and if you didn't pick up the pace, he was sure his temptation would take control.
you nodded profusely, leaning forward. you trapped his head inbetween your two hands, praying that whatever you do next will please him and not embarass you.
your chest was now against his and your lips were interlocked as you rode his dick, sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the room.
he groaned, deepening the kiss. his hands gently held your waist, not guiding you but basically telling you that you were doing all the right things.
you felt his hand move up to your breast, then taking it into his hand and rolling your nipple inbetween his fingers. you moaned, but not once removing yourself from his lips. you clenched around him and felt him throb inside of you, making you whimper. he leaned back, breaking the kiss.
"you're doing so good— fuck you're so hot." he panted, leaning into the crook of your neck then leaving soft kisses along your jaw.
the room began to feel hotter than before— if even possible. short breaths escaped your mouth, your orgasm getting nearer and nearer.
you watched his jaw tighten, his groans coming to a stop; now only silent pants. his brows furrowed, seemingly frustrated.
before you could even say anything, his hands gripped your hips— hard enough that you knew it would leave a bruise.
next thing you were sliding up and down on his dick roughly, toby leaving no time for you to even catch a break as he knew he was close and so were you.
silent moans escaped your lips; sounds of your pleasure caught in your throat. he thrusted up deeper into you, his thrusts erratic and desperate.
he grabbed you by the back of your neck and made you lean down close enough to him that you could feel him breathing on your neck. he bit down hard as he let out a loud groan.
you cried out in pain and pleasure as you felt him release inside of you a few seconds after he bit you. your orgasm washed over you, tears blurring your vision as you moaned out his name in a whisper.
he thrusted up into you, the both of your riding out your orgasms. once you two became tired, you collapsed on him, your legs sore.
you felt a hand on your thigh, but your eyes were struggling to open. you felt soft kisses litter your temple and forehead, and toby's fingers pushing any cum that leaked out back into your aching cunt.
"goodnight, pretty."
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arieslost · 19 days
Text
cherry blossoms | ls2
summary: you have a meet cute in japan.
word count: 1,046
masterlist — join my tag list here!
this one is for my sweet mimi @lightsoutletsgo <33 thank you for coming up with this incredible concept, i loved writing it!!
© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
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being in japan during the springtime was always a magical experience, and it was owed primarily to the beautiful abundance of cherry blossoms. when the 2024 season calendar was announced and you saw that the japanese grand prix would be held during the spring, you wasted no time in procuring tickets and a flight to the country.
the paddock is absolutely stunning this time of year, you realized as you walk through it after qualifying. the teams were either debriefing or preoccupied with working in their garages, so the paddock itself was relatively clear, save for the blossoms that were falling out of the trees and lining the ground in brilliant pink. it’s almost overwhelming, but you and your camera can’t get enough of it.
you wouldn’t call yourself a professional by any means, but taking pictures has always been a fun hobby for you, and the vibrant japanese setting was the perfect subject matter for photos.
you were fully engrossed in your task, taking shots of the blossoms at multiple angles, even getting some action shots of blossoms falling through the air to rest on the ground. the paddock was much quieter than usual, and it was nice to only really hear the breeze against the sound of muted, far off conversation. you could even feel some of the stray blossoms brushing the top of your head and your shoulders. it was peaceful above anything else, and you weren’t bothered by it, gazing intently through your camera’s viewfinder as you walked along the paddock.
in retrospect, you probably should have been paying better attention to your surroundings. one moment you were adjusting where you stood to get a better focus on a specific blossom that you noticed, and the next you were colliding with something warm and solid.
“i’m so sorry— is your camera okay?!”
through the viewfinder, your eye focused on what (or who, rather) you’d bumped into. slowly, you lowered the camera so you could look directly at him. he was blond, and tall, and damn was he cute.
“yeah… it’s fine. are you okay?”
without saying anything in response, he reached out and plucked a stray blossom off of your shoulder that you hadn’t even taken note of. you looked down for a moment, overwhelmed with the gentleness of his touch, and missed him slipping the blossom into his pocket.
“thanks,” you said quietly.
“no problem. and i’m fine too,” he stretched out a hand to you. “i’m logan.”
“oh, right, of course! logan sargeant!” you exclaimed before feeling your cheeks heat up. “i mean… something less weird.”
he laughed. “something like your name?”
“right,” you laughed as well, introducing yourself. “i’m sorry for not paying attention. i just haven’t been here in the springtime in so long, i forgot how beautiful it was.”
“this is my first time here in the spring,” he shared, looking almost shy as he met your eyes. “but you’re right, it’s beautiful.”
“how was quali for you?” you asked, fiddling with the settings on your camera to hopefully still be able to get the photo you wanted.
“could’ve been better.” he shrugged, watching you lift your camera up to the trees. “getting good pictures?”
“amazing pictures,” you nodded, taking a few shots. “here, i’ll show you!”
enthusiastically, you held the camera out to him and started going through the pictures you’d taken throughout the day. eventually, you got back to the experimental ones you’d taken of a few cars on the track.
“hey, that’s me!” logan said suddenly, stopping you when the screen showcased the blue williams with the number 2 on it. “that’s incredible. you have a great eye.”
“hire me.” you said, mostly joking, but you could almost see the cogs turning in his head as he contemplated it.
“listen, i have to run, but… do you think i could get your number? i want to take you out. and maybe you can show me some more of your pictures.” he rubbed the back of his neck, watching you intently as you considered his offer.
“i think i’d like that a lot.” you replied with a smile, biting your lip to stifle the giggle that nearly escaped when he eagerly grabbed for his phone.
two years later, when you’re living with him and you turn over to grab your phone from the nightstand, you see a cherry blossom, pressed and proudly displayed on the wood surface. your whole body grows warm with affection when you feel logan’s arms around you, pulling you back into his soft embrace.
“logan,” you admonish quietly when he refuses to let you reach your hand out for the flower.
“stay,” he grumbles in response, brushing his lips against your shoulder.
“how long have you had this?” you ask, managing to grab the blossom before he pulls you further into him.
“hmm?” his eyes blink open and he looks at you with bleary confusion. “i love you, but why are you trying to wake me up right now?”
“it looks like you’ve had it for a while,” you continue, turning the blossom around in your hand.
“oh, that.” he lifts his head, watching as you inspect it. “i’ve had that since the day i met you.”
your jaw drops. “what?”
“yeah, it was on your shoulder when you bumped into me.” he explains easily. “just sitting there like it belonged there. i had it pressed so i’d always have a reminder of that pretty girl i met in suzuka, just incase i never saw you again.”
well. you weren’t expecting to tear up so early in the morning, but you’re still learning that logan sargeant is full of surprises.
“i love you,” you whisper, overcome with emotion as you set the blossom back on the nightstand.
“i love you so much,” he whispers back, leaving a loving kiss on your cheek. “even though you woke me up.”
“okay,” you giggle, putting a hand on his face and forcing his eyes shut. “let’s go back to bed then, sleeping beauty.”
“don’t need to tell me twice,” he hums happily, snuggling close to you and sighing in content.
you stay awake for a little while longer, admiring the pressed flower and thinking of how pretty a spring wedding would be in suzuka.
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note: apologies if this feels rushed. i’m once again drowning in schoolwork as the semester ends this month 🙃 pray for me
my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!
reblogs are greatly appreciated <33
tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748 @scuderiadevils @iloveyou3000morgan @ctrlyomomma @hiireadstuff @daemyratwst @arian-directioner @evelyn-ny @avg-golden-retriever @likedbygaslyy @vintagefucksstuff @piastorys @jisungstuff
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koostarcandy · 11 months
Text
remedy
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summary: "i think, just think, if you stay here, just for a while, play with my hair or whatever, i may fall asleep, just saying."
pairing: jungkook x reader
genre: jeon jungkook rotting my brain fluff
wc: 875 words (tiny baby)
a/n: lmao look who's back because she fell asleep on jungkook's live (like literally my phone was on my face) also for this story's sake, this took place in the dark of morning and not the dawn :] also, also, there's a spoiler for the pale horse by agatha christie in here :P happy 10 years everybody! here's to more ♡
-
"how was the book, my love?"
you trip over the soft rug placed infront of the bathroom door, startled that your boyfriend's still awake at 3:33 a.m. you figured he would fall asleep after watching spiderverse reels and coming up with tons of theories about the final movie of the trilogy. jungkook lies on your side of the bed, fluffy mop of dark hair covering his tired eyes. you take your time with your skincare routine, describing the agatha christie you've been reading for the past 2 and a half hours, knowing it was gonna be a long night anyway.
"it was thallium poisoning, koo, not witchcraft. i never knew your hair could fall out in clumps because of that." you gently massage the serum into your face, looking around from the mirror to jungkook's gaze on you, slight smile playing on his pierced lips.
"did you put this before heading to bed, koo?" he moves his head absentmindedly, eyes darting from the small bottle in your hand to your face back again. you take it as a yes, meticulously placing the bottle in its designated place. you all but rush to bed, sneaking under the covers to his side of the bed.
your beloved shifts from lying to his side to on his tummy, chin placed on his special neck pillow, cheeks getting squished from his hands holding up his head. you scoot closer to him, brushing the bangs away from his face. you finally catch the stars in his eyes, nose scrunching in delight at the impromptu head massage.
"what's on your mind, baby?" you mumble into his hair, when he finds his way to your chest, arms immediately wrapping around you tightly in the softest way possible. "dunno," you feel his shoulders go up and down when shrugs, "there's always something up there now, you know?" he practically buries his face in your neck, placing a chaste kiss here and there. his fingers trace their way all the way from your hipbone to your shoulder, fidgeting with the thin silver necklace holding the delicate pendant he had given you on your birthday.
"wanna sleep and at the same, i don't wanna," he pouts, moving away from you ever so slightly to look up at you. "and why is that?" you ask curiously, smiling at him shivering at the touch of your cold fingers at the back of his neck. jungkook gazes at your eyes boring into him like warm rays of sunshine after a sudden spring shower. your moon-like eyes turns into pretty crescents when the silence gets comfortable, your bodies blending into one for warmth, despite the sultry heat outside. jungkook flings his leg over you, practically intertwined with you like vines on a lamp-post. its like his mind has come to a standstill, in a good way. the million thoughts running in his head has suddenly ceased, all because of your firm yet tender hands on him, one playing with his hair absentmindedly and the other tracing hearts on the upper part of his tattoo sleeve.
jungkook knows, despite not answering your question, you see right through his silence. he has wondered and pondered, over countless nights and self made whiskey cocktails, what exactly plagues his mind to avoid him catching up on some shut eye. he is no stranger to insomnia, often finding himself with new hobbies to while away the time till he finally gets sleepy. he boxed, karaoke-d, cooked his way through it all, that is until, he found you.
his own personal remedy, in the form of the most emotive, sometimes amorous love. nights spent with you is new everyday, no matter the place or time. you both could be on the couch, tummies full and hearts content at 9:45 p.m and jungkook would find himself asleep within seconds, something he could rarely achieve by himself. your lingering touches are something he thought he could only dream of, often waking up to you rolled over to the other side of the bed, grumbling to himself about your adventurous sleeping habits, wondering why you could never stay in one place, knowing he's subject to your teases about the same everyday. he gently pulls you to him anyway, spooning you until he finds the warmth he was searching helplessly for so long in his dream-like state.
"i can only sleep well when you're here with me," he confesses, a whisper into the dark space you both fondly call home. you catch his doe eyes on you, the night lights from outside never failing to enhance the galaxies you wake up to and sleep to everyday. jungkook clasps the back of your shirt in his hand, a subtle sign that he's succumbing to sleep's heavy hold.
"i think, just think, if you, just for a while, play with my hair or whatever, i may fall asleep, just saying."
your hand immediately resumes it's precious job, chuckling slightly at his quiet request of a head massage. his eyelashes flutter when his eyelids betray his mind, wanting one last look at you before he sees you again. before you know it, he's snoring away to dreamland in your arms, where you trust you'll meet him soon.
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taglist: @soobhyun ; @september-husband ; @snoozeagustd ; @cherishoshi ; @fragmentofyourlife ; @jjkeverlast ; @nlsonsprings ; @starlight-1010 ; @swga-ficrecs ; @zharoszn
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beomboomboom · 1 month
Text
Important
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genre: fluff, angst, established relationship
pairing: idol!Jihoon x reader
summary: Jihoon is a busy guy, everyone knows that. But why does it hurt so much when he can't even make time for his own girlfriend? All you want is Jihoon's love and affection, why is that so difficult?
warnings: a bit of swearing
note: This fic includes some lyrics from the song All My Love by SEVENTEEN (If you haven't heard this song, I strongly recommend you listen to it. It's such a good song!!) I hope you enjoy reading the fic <33
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"Am I really that important to you?"
There's tears in your eyes when you ask Jihoon the question you've been wondering about for the past few weeks.
Part of you knows you're just being irrational. Jihoon has other things he needs to focus on. He's an idol and a producer for fucks sake, it's practically guaranteed that he's going to be busy with work 24/7. So it's unrealistic for you to expect him to be able to make time for you whenever you feel the need for some company.
But the other part of you feels lonely. Coming home everyday to the sight of an empty apartment without Jihoon isn't exactly the most uplifting sight to see. And even when Jihoon on the rare occasion, does come home, all you are able to see is his passed out figure before he leaves in the morning while you still sleep.
All you want is Jihoon's love and affection, why is that so hard?
You receive your answer to that very question in the way Jihoon sits in a distracted silence when he hears your question. His eyes looking at his computer in a daze, too busy thinking up of ideas for new songs to produce rather than looking at the way you're about to burst into tears.
"Fine. If you can't even give me one second of your time and focus I'm going to leave," you yell angrily as more tears spring into your eyes. You quickly stand up from your position on Jihoon's couch and exit his studio, slamming the door behind you.
"WAI-" Jihoon starts to shout, finally finding his voice. His eyes widen while his hand is outstretched toward the direction of his door as if it's going to make you come back.
But it's too late.
You're gone.
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Jihoon knows he fucked up.
More than that actually.
He knows that it's his fault your relationship with him feels so one-sided. He has a habit of overworking himself. Oftentimes minutes in the studio turning into hours before turning into days of being cooped up producing songs, causing him to neglect the very people he wants to spend all his time with.
Jihoon wishes he could tell you how much he loves you, that he's not trying to neglect you on purpose. He just sometimes gets caught up in his work and doesn't realize when it's time to take a break. He wishes he could tell you that he misses you as much as you miss him, even though he doesn't show it.
But now he has no idea what he could possibly do to solve the predicament he's in. Jihoon could talk with you, but he knows he's not the best with confrontation. Jihoon could give you a few days of space, but he knows that it's probably not the best choice since the whole reason you got mad was because Jihoon wasn't around you enough.
So, Jihoon turns to what he's best at doing. What he does when he doesn't have a clue on what to do.
Songwriting.
Sometimes he'll write songs for his members, comforting them through his lyrics. Other times he'll write songs for Carats, wanting to share with them some encouraging and happy tunes.
But this time, he's writing a song for you.
Jihoon knows that writing a song for you won't make you forgive him instantly, but the most he can do is try to make things better a little bit at a time.
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It's 3 in the morning when you hear a knock at your front door. As the rain falls softly on your window, the only question that on your mind is, who the heck is outside your house at such an ungodly hour?
Feet shuffling along the cold floor, you sleepily walk over to your door and open it. Your sleepy eyes are still trying to make sense of the situation when Jihoon stands outside your apartment door.
In front of you stands a drenched Jihoon with puffy red eyes carrying his signature black backpack that is absolutely ginormous on him.
"Jihoon? What are you doing here?"
Mumbling something incoherently, you watch, still half-awake, as Jihoon slowly walks up to you and gently wraps his arms around you.
As you feel the wetness from Jihoon's shirt begin to seep into your own shirt, you try to softly push Jihoon away. But that only makes Jihoon hug you tighter. "Don't go...,"you hear him mumble as he presses his face into the crook of your neck, and that's when you realize that Jihoon is crying.
You're torn.
Seeing your boyfriend cry is a rare occurence and as much as you want to hug him tightly and kiss away all his tears, you want to run away because how can he come back to your apartment as if nothing had happened in these past few months.
"I'm sorry," Jihoon says, his voice cracking and mouth quivering, as he cries, letting his tears drop messily into the fabric of your shirt.
Taking Jihoon's face in your hands, you quietly rub away his tears which only makes him cry harder. Leaning into your touch, he takes hold of your wrist and gently rubs it. "I-I'm really sorry. You don't deserve a terrible boyfriend like me."
"No, don't say that. You know what, how about I get you a towel so that you can dry yourself off and then we can talk more, okay?
"Okay"
By the time you return from the bathroom, towel in hand, Jihoon is sitting on the couch and pulling his computer out of his bag. "oh...are you going to be working more?"
He can hear the disappointment in your voice when you ask the question, you're so used to him working all the time that you're not even angry ... you're just disappointed. Jihoon feels a wave of guilt wash over him as he realizes that all the things you said to him before were true, he was just too busy to realize it.
"Ah, no. I have something to show you," Jihoon says with a tired smile as he pats the seat on the couch beside him, inviting you to sit.
Hesitant, you take a seat next to your boyfriend and look at his computer screen where you can see him open a file. You then watch as Jihoon pulls out a pair of earphones and plugs them into the computer.
Putting the earbuds into your ears, Jihoon presses play as his eyes shake, nervously watching your face for any kind of reaction.
The second the melody of the song plays into your ears, you feel like crying out of disbelief. "You made a song for me?" you ask, suprise etched all over your face, as you look towards Jihoon's direction.
Nodding with a small but nervous smile, Jihoon then motions for you to continue listening.
And it's when you reach the part of the song where you can hear the lyrics sung by the sweet honey voice of your boyfriend, when you begin to cry.
Just likе a pouring meteor shower Please be the light in the dark sky I can do everything for you For you I just want to give you everything And that makes me feel small, a fool who only accepts It suddenly makes me hate myself And makes me feel sorrier towards you
"Oh- Jihoon-," you start to say with tears in your eyes as you close the gap between you and Jihoon and give him a tight hug, your face pressed against his chest. "This is beautiful," you continue on to say sincerely.
Blushing, Jihoon quietly mutters with a nervous laugh, "you haven't even finished the song, listen to what i'm trying to say."
Following Jihoon's instructions, you lean on him and quickly refocus your attention back on the song.
Though it was hard writing my feelings down And all I have is this song and these lyrics For you, for you, for you, for you I sing this song for you tonight So I can get closer to your love
My love only amounts to this But my feelings will never change, for you baby Even if my love only amounts to this I'll be your umbrella in the rain I'll protect you on all your days
By the time you finish listening to Jihoon's song for you, you're in shambles. "fuck- Jihoon, I love you so much you know? I'm still mad at you but I still love you so much," you say as tears roll down your cheeks. Pressing your forehead against Jihoon's, you lean in to give him a chaste kiss on the lips.
Jihoon freezes for a moment before immediately tugging you closer to his body and reciprocating your kiss. "I don't deserve someone as precious as you,"he whispers before devouring your lips into another kiss.
When both you and Jihoon finally break away from each other to get some oxygen into your lungs, Jihoon gently takes your hands into his own. "I-I'm really sorry though. I was a terrible boyfriend these past few months, but I'm going to work on trying to improve myself. Even though I'll probably be busy with producing songs, i'll try to make time for you."
You let out a relived smile when you hear Jihoon's sincere words. "Okay, and I understand if you need time for other things too."
Jihoon gives you a small nod and a smile. "And to answer your previous question, of course you're important to me. For fucks sake you're my girlfriend, you're one of the most important people in my life. How can you not be important to me?" Jihoon says while cupping your face before continuing on to say," just because I don't show it, doesn't mean I don't feel it."
"I love you," he finally whispers with a smile as he places a small peck on your lips.
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formulaforza · 5 months
Note
hi mack !! may i request a fluffy blurb with ‘gazing at them from afar because they're just so...’ for carlos? thank you !! <33
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—when you're ready pairing: carlos sainz x female reader wc: 800ish summ. in which, carlos has never been able to keep his eyes off his best mate's pretty friend.
To the people that know Carlos, there are three constants in life: the sun sets in the west, summer follows spring, and Carlos is pathetically in love with his best friend’s friend. Ask anyone who knows Carlos, except you—his best-friend’s friend. 
You, who, at least tonight, are too preoccupied by the shots on the bartop, the game of darts Lando needs to lose, and the split ends of hair at the ends of your carefully woven braids, to notice Carlos. Carlos, and the way his eyes seem to find you even when he’s not really looking, who waits to laugh at his own jokes until you begrudgingly crack a toothy smile, who notices the little piece of glitter that’s perched on your eyebrow. 
It wasn’t always like this, he used to carry a certain level of subtlety, the ability to deny accusations without burning bright red and spewing half a dozen piss-poor excuses like a flustered boy on the schoolyard. It wasn’t always like this, not when he saw you for the first time, caught your eye and exchanged a smile with who he’d assumed was his teammate’s girlfriend. You were sat on your phone beside a sleeping Lando, who was curled up on the common area sofa. Your legs were long, crossed over each other beyond the hem of your dress. Your eyelashes were longer, watching him hurry past you. His first thought in regards to you was that Lando was a lucky fucking bastard. 
His second thought in regards to you, upon a proper introduction later that day, was that Lando is a fucking idiot for not managing to bed his “friend since primary school, or something.”
And that was the relationship you’d maintained for two years. Him, on his side of the garage, with his girlfriend. You, on the other side of the garage, not Lando’s girlfriend. Two years of short dresses over long legs he couldn’t touch and long eyelashes he couldn’t stare at. For two years it went like that, and then he signed a contract with Ferrari and he broke up with his girlfriend and he and Lando only seemed to get closer. 
And, to be close with Lando was to be close with you, which is when you became so much more than something he wanted to touch, a prize he could never win. 
It was easy to fall for you. Easy like breathing, like blinking, like letting hot water run down your back. It was easy, when you would instigate the shit-talking about Lando’s golf swing, the same way it was easy when you would steal a drink of his beer and let him spin you around a mutual friend’s backyard wedding—you wore your hair down that night. He still remembers the way the wind spent the entire evening blowing it into your face, into his face. It danced on its own, moved separately from everything else about you. He spent half the night wondering if he was drunk enough to grow a pair and tuck it behind your ears, and the other half wondering if you were tipsy enough to let him.  
Tonight, like all the other nights, he watches you. You down a shot after every round of darts, even though the original bet you’d made with Lando was that the loser needed to take a shot. The deal solidified with a firm handshake was tossed out the window by both of you after two shots each. His eyes follow you, your hand—freshly manicured nails and two sparkling rings—bringing the shot glass to your lips—soft and plump and the perfect shade of pink. He watches as your head falls back, hair falling from your shoulders, necklace shining in the barlight, the clear liquor disappearing from the glass. You wince, turn down the chaser, and call Lando a pussy when he downs a matching glass of crystal light. When you set the glass back on the bartop, even across the room, he swears he can hear the thud of the glass. It makes him shudder, snaps him back to reality. 
When you’re back in front of him, laughing at some undoubtedly stupid joke Lando had told you, you’re pointing a finger in his direction. “You—” you laugh harder, voice impaired by the smile that misshapes your lips. Your fingertip pushes into the middle of his chest. “You’re not drunk enough.”
 He laughs, throwing his hands up in surrender. “And what are we gonna do about that?”
“You,” you say, pushing your finger against him harder, and then removing it all together to bury it in your own chest, “and me. Loser—you,” you laugh “—has to take three shots.”
Carlos nods, holds out his hand to shake on it. “Deal.”
“Really?” You smile, like you thought he’d say no to you. “Okay, deal. I’m totally going to kick your ass, though.”
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princessbrunette · 22 days
Note
Baby daddy rafe being hit on everyone at the country club and reader not being able to do anything cuz they’re not together<//33
🧸✧˖°❅🍥
you don’t even know why you come to this stupid place anymore.
you supposed it was to keep up appearances. you didn’t wanna be that girl that turned twenty, got pregnant and then disappeared off the radar. why should you have to live in shame of being a young parent if rafe cameron didn’t? you refused, hence why you were taking a quiet afternoon off, sitting with a glass of wine at the country club enjoying the sunshine before you’d have to return to motherhood.
you didn’t expect him to be there at the same time you were. you try it to be cool about it, because you knew you were not with him — but seeing him surrounded by a group of girls batting their lashes and twirling their hair up at him made you feel… icky. you were protective, you supposed. sure, you weren’t together but that was the father of your child. the wine gave you that little confidence boost, so you decide to go and intervene, make something up.
flattening out your sundress you totter over, briefly losing that confidence for a moment as you stand to the side, waiting for your turn to be noticed like the rest of them. when he does, he cuts the flirtatious laughter short to politely shoo them away, wandering over to you.
“hi.” you state bashfully, embarrassed that you have to take up any of his time as if he didn’t put a whole baby in your stomach.
“hey, uh… how’s my girl?” he asks, and for a brief hopeful moment you think he’s talking about you. your chest warms anyway.
“she’s good. sarah is babysitting right now.” you explain softly, finding it hard to hold the eye contact. your eyes drift over to the girls he was speaking to instead, noticing their jealous glares. rafe hums, bringing his beer bottle to his lips and taking a sip.
“‘long as she’s not letting my baby around those pogues.” he comments, displeased and your heart sinks a little. you hate when he’s disappointed. maybe your hormones were still all out of whack. “was there… something you needed from me?”
you blink up at him dumbly, conjuring up an excuse. “w— uh… i was wondering… when you wanted to see her?” you fiddle with your hands, body heating up at how ill prepared you were for this conversation. he blinks, shifting on his feet.
“do i not…come and see her every weekend? i dont…” he frowns, genuinely confused. your eyes widen as you nod.
“yeah, no — of course i was just… wondering if you wanted to see her during the week too or anything? if you maybe wanted to…come over just for a little while?” you shrug, trying to make it as casual as possible. he stares at you for a moment like he’s trying to read you before looking around.
“you— you know i’m a very busy man now and —” he starts but you cut him off, already too hurt to let him continue.
“yeah! no it’s okay i totally get it rafe. i don’t wanna impede, you’re already doing a lot and i don’t wanna ask too m—” you go to ramble politely, humiliated at the speed in which the fat tears spring to your eyes.
“hey— let me finish, alright?” he places two hands on your shoulders and you immediately shut up, blinking up at him tearfully. “what i was going to say, okay — is — is that i’m a busy man now, but… you say the word and… i’ll drop everything, yeah? whats the problem have — have you been struggling with… with the baby or, what?” he looks concerned. maybe it was fatherhood that was changing him but you could tell he genuinely gave a shit. no he wasn’t fully rid of his boyish troublesome ways but there had definitely been a shift and that was enough to relieve you. he watches the stress physically melt from your body, brow relaxing as you sigh.
“not a…problem, rafe really it’s okay i just… it can be a little lonely… and i suppose i just want her to see her parents interacting, show her that we’re okay with eachother you know? give her some healthy ideals.” you explain, but really he stopped listening after the word lonely.
“i—i didn’t know you were lonely like that, you know i… i wouldn’t let that happen… okay? i’ll come over. we’ll hang out… yeah?” one hand that was resting on your shoulder comes up to cup your cheek in emphasis and you so badly want to nuzzle into it, let him take the weight of your head. instead you just stare up with doe eyes.
“yeah.” it comes out as a whisper and he licks his lips, nodding in approval.
“alright then.”
you glance over to the glaring girls and your gaze darts downwards. “uh, i think i’m upsetting your girlfriends.” you chuckle awkwardly, going to step back. he glances over his shoulder, letting go over you before shrugging a shoulder carelessly.
“more like… god damn fan girls. those bit— uh, women won’t leave me alone.” he corrects himself, making a clear effort. “gonna go and find topper now, okay? you gonna be fine?” he takes a step back and you want him to stay but you nod anyway.
“see you, rafe.”
you have a warm feeling in your stomach when you leave the country club. you weren’t together, and only a few weeks ago you were telling people how glad you were that this was the case. but now things were different. his favouritism should have been clear due to the fact he’d knocked you up, and maybe it was pity, if that was something rafe was even capable of — but you didn’t care. rafe liked you the most.
🧸✧˖°❅🍥
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moonstruckme · 6 months
Note
Hi!!! I saw you did a poly!marauders with a plus!dive reader who’s insecure…
Can you write one where the reader is shying away from intimacy with the boys because they’re insecure and feeling ick about their body? Like not just sex but also physical touch like hugs or especially sitting on their laps? It can include smut too if you’d like!
I’m feeling pretty ick about my size rn and the fix really helped me! Thank u sm for your writing
Thanks sm for requesting lovely! I hope you start to feel better soon <33
cw: insecurity around size/weight, talk of traditional beauty standards
poly!marauders x plus size!reader ♡ 1.3k words
The funny thing is, the boys have been wearing away at your instincts for months. It’s no conscious effort for them, but for you it’s impossible not to notice. Before you got together, you’d been used to shying away from nearly every touch. You rarely hugged anyone, kissed only chastely, and shunned most physical intimacy. But though they’ve gone about it in a gentlemanly way, never putting pressure on you, your boyfriends have slowly changed that. Now hardly a day goes by without James having had his arm around your waist, Remus raking casual touches up your leg, or Sirius turning a kiss into a feely makeout. 
Unfortunately, you still have your bad days. Earlier this week you’d looked too long into the mirror, and of course found a dozen things to hate about your body, and hadn’t wanted any of the boys to touch you since. When Sirius’ hand had smoothed over your lower back yesterday, skimming the rolls of fat at your sides, you’d almost thought you’d be sick before you could get away from him. You couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d feel there, what he’d think of you when he did. You’re not stupid; you know your boyfriends can see you, but touching is something different. What they probably want to feel isn’t what you have to offer, perfectly smooth skin and sloping, gentle curves. It sometimes feels like you’re keeping the secret of your true form from them, and if they discover it they’ll see you the same way you do. 
“So, what’s the big secret?” Sirius asks as you come into the common room. All three boys are tangled up on the couch, and the other two turn to look when he calls out to you. 
You give him a bemused sort of smile, perching on the armrest next to James. Careful not to put much of your weight on it. “What do you mean?” 
“Don’t play coy.” Sirius narrows his eyes at you playfully. “I saw you whispering with Evans earlier, glancing at us all mischievously. What’re you two up to?” 
You have to bite down on your smile. Sirius’ birthday is coming up, and you and Lily are in charge of his surprise party plans. James and Remus are involved too, of course, but it’s far easier for you and Lily to speak about it in your dorm at night, whereas your boyfriends hardly get any time apart to partake in secret plans. 
“Oh,” you say breezily, “that was nothing. She was asking if we’re going to hogsmeade tomorrow. I told her we are.” 
James smiles at you conspiratorially, bringing a hand to your thigh and rubbing up and down in silent support. You almost have a heart attack. You place your hand hastily atop his, intertwining your fingers as cover for your panicked response. James doesn’t seem unhappy with the change, resting his head against your arm as he strokes his thumb across the back of your hand. 
“Should we make it a study session in hogsmeade?” Remus asks, neatly keeping the subject away from Sirius’ party. “We’ve all got that potions paper due Monday.” 
“I’ve finished,” you admit, “but I’m still open to studying if you guys want to.” 
Remus rewards you with a smile as Sirius rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Show-off,” he mutters. 
“Shut up, Pads,” James says, always looking for any opportunity to take your side over Sirius’. He grabs your waist before you can stop him, tugging you off the armrest. 
No sooner do you land on his lap than you’re springing to your feet. “James!” you cry, batting at his hands when they reach to pull you back. “You can’t just do that, I’ll crush you!”  
Thick eyebrows fly up past the rims of James’ glasses and disappear behind his curls. “I’m sorry,” he says, in a tone that clearly means the opposite, “do you really think I’m so weak that I’ll crumble from you sitting on my lap?”
“It’s not—”
“Fucking hell,” Sirius cuts in, looking horrified, “if you think James can’t handle you, what do you think of Remus and I?”
“I’ll bench press you right now,” James insists, trying to push the other boys aside so he has room to lay down. “Come here, lovie, we’ll see who’s weak.” 
The laugh that emerges from your throat borders on hysterical. “I wasn’t trying to say that anyone here was weak, okay? I just…” There’s no good way to phrase that last part, and you think for a moment to simply leave it there, but Remus leans forward, setting his elbows on his knees with an expression that clearly reads go on. “I know I’m not, like, a tiny delicate bird,” you laugh, aiming for flippancy. 
No one laughs with you. 
“But I don’t need any of you to respond to that,” you hurry to say. “I know it’s a weird subject, and there’s, like, no right way, really, to…to respond.” You trail off dumbly, wishing desperately that you’d never broached the subject in the first place. 
After a moment of silence, you chance a glance up, but one look at Sirius’ visage, bordering on outraged, has your gaze defaulting back to your lap. “Sorry,” you say in a small voice. “Can we forget about it?” 
“That’s alright, love.” Remus' voice is dulcet, so low you would never normally have heard him if the other two boys weren’t so uncharacteristically silent. “Listen, we don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to, but can I just say something?” 
You look up to nod at him, finding his countenance equal parts troubled and patient. His mouth is pursed like he’s worried that if he’s not careful, the wrong words will come flying out. At your nod of assent, he speaks, clearly and firmly. 
“I don’t want you to look like a bird.” 
You almost laugh again, it’s such an absurd declaration, but Remus’ expression is serious. “You know what I mean, though,” you say, lifting a shoulder like this conversation is nothing to you. “I know what guys want. I’m not that.” 
“Bullshit,” Sirius says, and Remus’ lips twitch upward at your boyfriend’s brash tongue. “You’re just gonna lump us in with all guys? Do all girls want the exact same thing too?” You go to protest, but he talks over you, fuming. “Golden boys, tall with blond hair, blue eyes, and an eight-pack of abs, right? Is that what you wish we looked like?”
“Of course not.” You’re tripping over yourself in your denial. “I wouldn’t—I don’t want you to look any other way.” 
“But you can see his point, can’t you?” Remus asks gently. “If we each only liked what we’re told is most attractive, a face full of scars probably wouldn’t be on the top of that list.” You must look as devastated as you feel, because Remus’ lips pull up in a reassuring half-smile, the long scar across his cheek flashing silver with the movement. “Does that matter to you?”
Your voice is quiet; chastened, but ardent. “No. Not at all.” 
“So perhaps you can imagine,” James says, raising his eyebrows at you teasingly, “how if you can look at us and find things to love, we can do the same with you.” You gnaw on your lip, and his brows come slowly back down. 
“Don’t,” Sirius says sternly. “Stop thinking whatever you’re thinking. You’re gorgeous, and we like you like this.” His eyes bore into yours, insistent. “You can’t make our decisions for us about which parts of you we’re allowed to like, understand?” 
James nods, extending his hands to you. “Would you come sit with me, angel? Only if you want to, of course,” he adds at your hesitance, “but please don’t refrain because you’re worried about anything to do with me.” 
You give him an assessing look. “Alright,” you say, perching on his lap. “Just tell me if you want me to get off.” 
“Will do, darling.” James grips the fat of your hips, hauling you onto him so that your feet leave the floor and your full weight is on him. “Not much danger of that, though.” 
“Honestly,” Remus hums, pulling your legs across his lap so that you’re sitting sideways on James, “the day one of us says we want you to look more like a bird, run, sweetheart. Someone’s using polyjuice or something.”
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shanastoryteller · 7 months
Note
Happy Pride! Untamed please!
a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46
 Lan Wangji is standing next to his brother as he makes small talk with Nie Mingjue – their closeness had never really recovered after the war, despite Xichen’s best efforts and Jin Guangyao’s lukewarm ones – when a Jin servant steps to his side and whispers, “Your wife is requesting your presence in Lady Jiang’s sitting room.”
Even as quietly as he’d spoken, Xichen and Nie Mingjue had obviously heard him. Xichen frowns. “Is she alright?”
Her injuries had been superficial and mostly healed. But Lan Wangji had seen the exhaustion that she didn’t want to admit to and said nothing, because they’d already gotten into one fight today and he understood pride well enough. Perhaps he should have insisted.
The servant lowers his eyes. “Apologies, Sect Leader Lan. I have only been instructed to escort Master Lan.”
“Excuse me,” he says, dipping his head to Nie Mingjue and falling into step with the servant. His pace is unhurried, which Lan Wangji tries to find reassuring. If something was wrong, surely they would be moving with more urgency.
He sees Jiang Cheng first and has to keep his lip from curling back in distaste. He’s ducked his head to speak with Jiang Yanli, the two of them standing outside of her rooms, but they both cut off their conversation when they see him. He bows shallowly to Jiang Yanli, ignoring Jiang Cheng completely. “Madame Jin. Is-“
“She’s fine,” she says, but the tension around her eyes and the strain in her smile tells a different story. “Please go in, Lan Wangji.”
He pushes the door open, closing it behind him, and at least he doesn’t have to look far for her. “Are you hurt?”
Xuanyu looks up at him, a faint redness in her eyes that speaks of tears. She’s dressed much like she was when he first met her, back in the Jin gold and cream and her hair turned sleek and pulled in hairstyle that’s half up in a braided bun on top of head and the rest of her hair flowing freely. It’s a Jiang hairstyle, one that Jiang Yanli used to wear when they were younger. The hair ornament in Xuanyu’s hair is Jiang Yanli’s as well.
The only Lan thing on her is her forehead ribbon, and it startles him with how out of place it looks, while Jiang and Jin seem to blend seamlessly. It causes something to twist uncomfortably in his chest, but he ignores it to repeat, “Are you hurt?”
“Sit down,” she says, gesturing to the place at the table across from her. He takes the seat next to her instead, looking her over for some sort of new injury or pain, but he can’t find anything amiss. “Ah, okay. Okay. So.”
He waits, but she just twists her hands together, occasionally reaching up to touch her hair and then realizing that with this new hair style it’s not where she expects it, and lowers her hands.
“Did something happen?” he asks.
She starts to shake her head then gives a jerky nod. “I – I – I’m. Yanli-jie’s healer came to see me.”
The stab of worry is almost becoming familiar when it comes to Xuanyu, but that doesn’t make it any more comfortable. “Are you ill? Have your injuries worsened?”
She shakes her head, and it should be a relief, but instead his worry just deepens. “No, no. It’s. Um. Not – I. It’s just that – well. You know. In the cold spring. And then the wall. And the bed.”
It takes him a moment but then heat flushes his cheeks. She is referring to when he became inebriated and took her. “Did I hurt you?”
She had said that it was not the type of hurt that was unwelcome or lingered and she’d never flinched away from him. But it was a first time for both of them and he barely remembers what he did and at the time he was significantly stronger than her and she was still injured from their spar. It’s entirely possible he harmed her in some way.
“No!” She bites her lip, staring at him with an intensity that he doesn’t understand. “Wangji, dammit, are you really going to make me say it?”
“If you wish me to understand, then you’re going to have to,” he says, worry and guilt pushing him to his own frustration.
Xuanyu blinks several times, and he’s about to apologize, but then she says, “I’m pregnant.”
He stares.
“From when we – you know – obviously,” she says. “So. Yeah.”
His eyes drop to her stomach. Several things snap into place at once but he can’t focus on any of them beyond the roar in his ears and the acid churning in his stomach.
He is no better than his father.
Xuanyu is his wife not by choice but circumstances out of her control and she had never wanted him and even if she enjoyed that night, he had lost his senses and demanded what she hadn’t offered freely, not even doing her the courtesy of taking the care to spill outside of her. Now his child grows inside her, pinning her in place and shackling her as his mother was shackled.
“Wangji?” she asks, voice concerningly high pitched. “Say something.”
“I’m sorry.”
She goes perfectly still except for where she’s gripping her robe above her knees. “Oh.”
“I never intended,” he starts but the lump in his throat makes it difficult to get anything else out. Instead he gets to his feet, bows to her, and is pushing out of the room as quickly as his feet can carry him.
Everything is too hot and too close and he can’t breathe. He needs to get outside. He needs to think.
“Hey!” Jiang Cheng shouts as he rushes past, but his voice softens as he says, “Oh, shit.”
It’s too bright and too close and too loud and he has no patience for Jiang Cheng even at his best and he just needs – he needs –
“Wangji?” Xichen grabs his elbow as he’s headed for the exit, eyes wide and concerned. “Is she – what’s wrong with Lady Xuanyu?”
“I,” he starts, and still can’t make himself speak. He pulls himself out of his grip and continues for the door. He hears his brother make his apologies to whoever he’d been speaking to and then his presense at his back, following him out.
He’ll probably be grateful for that when his head clears, but for now it’s too full of panic and shame and a bitter self hatred he hasn’t felt this intently since he’d lost Wei Wuxian.
“I know somewhere private,” Xichen says softly as soon as they’re outside, the lungful of fresh air not nearly as clarifying as he’d hoped it’d be. “Come.”
He follows his brother, focuses on breathing, and not why it feels like he can’t get enough air despite how greedily he sucks it in.
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