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rainrot4me · 8 months ago

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Three’s A Crowd

Summary: Video games can be emotionally intense, especially when you’re butting heads with the two idiots yelling at each other. So when Jeff and Ben decide to break their tie in another way, you find yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time: right in the middle.

Characters: Ben Drowned x Female Reader x Jeff the Killer

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Using a controller as a vibrator, threesome, fingering, toxic, Ben pressures you lowkey, embarrassment, power struggle, vaginal, creampie, cum mixing, competition, cunnilingus, Jeff and Ben flirt, dub-con, pining, suppressed emotions, jealousy, jealousy sex, angry sex, insults, overstimulation

Words: 5.3k

In your opinion, video games sucked.

Correction: The games themselves didn’t suck. The way they made the residents of the mansion act, sucked.

It was so unruly. Screaming, throwing the controllers, weapons being whipped out at a poorly timed insult, they had no restraint. Everyone was pretty bad, yourself included, but Jeff and Ben were worst of all. The two idiots didn’t have respect for a single thing in their lives, and that principle carried over now as you were hunched between them on the shabby couch in the living room.

It was well into the night, and most of the creeps were either asleep or out on a mission for Slender, so the boys ruled they could be as reckless as they wanted without consequence. Jeff had hauled you along too, ripping you from your comfortable bed to act as a witness to whoever won the match of Mario Kart. However, six rounds later, the two of them were leaning forward heavily and cursing at every bad move. Elbows perched on knees as the bright glow from the TV cast a haze over the room, your phone distracting you as they shoved and bumped into your curled-up body. “One more shell and I’m punching you.” Ben grit, Jeff laughed.

Ben was playing as Link, obviously, but Jeff was heavily set on playing as Rosalina because she’s “emo and fuckin’ hot”. You thought it was crude, but as the little princess chucked another blue turtle shell as Link, Jeff secured his win, tying the boys up. Three each, no clear winner and the exhaustion was starting to set in as you gazed at the bright TV. “Aw, sucks. Guess we’ll never know.” You chime, tugging yourself off of the couch and beginning to make your way up to your room and away from the already obnoxious arguing that followed. A calloused hand was quick to drag you back, hauling your ass back into the cushion you had been in for hours.

“Nope. All or nothin’.” Jeff smiled, settling back into the armrest of the couch as Ben loaded another round, the loud whistles and bells chiming obnoxiously as they gripped their controllers. You groaned, shrugging back into the crook of the cushions as the boys pressed close to you, occasionally slapping at each other’s thighs and elbowing you a little too hard as they sped through obstacles. It was irritating, you becoming agitated every time one of their curses rang a little too loud in your ear. Ben was winning, sending Jeff into an utter panic and standing up, knocking you on the side of the head as he threw his elbows out in an attempt to steer clear of the giant tar pit in front of him. That did it for you.

“Okay. Fuck this.” You stood up, shoving Jeff to the side as you grabbed the remote to the TV and powered it off, their yells following as the bright light faded. “What the fuck?!” Ben snapped, throwing his hands in the air and standing next to Jeff now, who looked equally as shocked.

“You’ve done nothing but yell in my ear all night! Either find some other way to settle your score, or just get over yourselves!” You grit, slamming the remote back down and aiming to walk towards the stairs, shoving your phone into your pocket as you stomp off. Ben laughed, your phone becoming suddenly very hot in your pocket and making you hiss, grabbing it and throwing it down onto the floor. Jeff was cackling, Ben smiling as you scowled at him, his dark eyes bright against the re-appearing glow of the TV as it suddenly switched back on. “Fucker.” You growled. They both just chuckled, grabbing their controllers again and restarting the game where it left off. “Now, either come sit down, or your phone explodes next.” The elf chitted, patting the spot on the sofa next to him teasingly.

Swearing, you sat back down, shoving your phone onto the coffee table in front of you and begrudgingly refocusing on the bright game, Jeff now taking the lead. The race was quick, Ben coming out on top in the end and sending the pale killer to call for another round, to which you responded with a groan. “Sit tight, gonna grab a drink.” The dark-headed man huffed, tossing the controller onto your lap and heading off into the kitchen, the little device buzzing and lighting up every time Ben clicked on his own. It was a weird sensation, the vibrations tickling your skin as you watched the screen, Ben focused on readying a match again. “This thing vibrates?” You laughed, pushing around the joysticks and smiling when the device buzzed deep as the car engines on the screen revved. Ben smiled, teasingly nudging your arm as he sat back into the cushion, resting his on controller on his leg. “Yeah, not as good as yours though.” He teasingly glared.

You cringed, Ben’s perverted little mouth taking over as he snickered, your face growing hot. “Not funny.” You hissed, shoving the controller off of your lap and onto Jeff’s empty seat, the little buzzing seeming a lot less cute now. The room was awkward now, at least on your end, but Ben just kept laughing, even as Jeff reemerged from the kitchen and plopped back down onto the sofa, giving you both a questioning look before readjusting as you shook your head.

The boys started up again, you now keenly aware of just how much they were touching you. Thighs pressed side by side, shoulders nudging, Ben’s hands moving the controller down just a little too close to your scrunched-up legs as he raced; his comment had made you very agitated, your mind swirling the comment every time you heard the deep vibration of the little devices. Ben noticed, or at least, pretended like he wasn’t planning it all along. The elf had used his comment wisely, pushing you just the right amount into uncomfortable just to get your blood flowing, but not pushing you away. Truth was, he knew it was personal, knew all too well from the small hum of your vibrator through his walls, your little huffs and whines pushing through the wood and right into his pointed ears. He liked those nights, the nights where he could secretly send his influence and make the vibrator speed up suddenly, the hum becoming louder as your little voice followed, forcing you into an orgasm that he secretly caused. It was his favorite thing, pushing you, unknowingly under his whim. But now, he had the chance to actually pursue it, pursue you.

Jeff was your friend, he was the whole reason you were down here. He had nonchalantly pleaded with you to be their little witness and sit in on the game, and Ben knew if he wanted to get to you, you’d need Jeff there to accompany the ride. You two weren’t lovers, but Ben accepted the fact that if he wanted to make his fantasies a reality, he was going to have to share. If only for tonight. This rang true even as he subtly pressed his thigh closer against yours, but you instinctually slid your legs closer to Jeff, your weight slowly shifting onto his shoulder as he shifted with you. Ben side-eyed hard, quietly nagging himself as he lost track of what he was doing and slipped off the map. Jeff howled, playfully slapping your leg and teasing the elf about paying attention. But he was done with this game, his focus had left that screen and was now locked onto you, along with his subtle jealousy that struck as you nestled against Jeff even further.

“You get any closer to him you’ll be sitting on his dick.” Ben mocked, flicking the game off with a little twitch of his finger and letting the bright TV glow illuminate your already flushed face. You gawked at him, brows furrowed as your face grew hot, looking at Jeff as he just laughed. “What the fuck, man?” The killer half laughed half cringed, glancing at you but tossing the controller onto the coffee table to avoid the awkwardness of being pressed against you now. You read it, shifting off of him as Ben moved to face you, crossing his arms with a sour look. “No, go ahead [Y/N], show Jeff how bad you want it. Y’know, since apparently I’m not funny anymore.” He grilled, nudging you closer to Jeff until you literally had to push your hands against his chest to stop the elf from climbing on top of you. Jeff didn’t think it was funny anymore either, shoving Ben’s shoulder and telling him to chill out as he pressed further, grabbing the controller off of the couch and shoving your back down against the killer’s legs awkwardly. “I’ll just do it myself then.”

Ben was shoving himself between your legs now, pressing your thighs open and forcing his hands between as Jeff tried to adjust, trying to pull you up but being forced behind you as the elf pushed down. “Ben. What the hell are you doing?” He was blushing, despite his aggressive gaze now the killer was stunned, and Ben could see it. His hands pushed deeper, a twitch of his eyebrow all it took to send the little device in his hand roaring, a deep rumbling sounding as he pushed it closer to your clothed cunt. You panicked, reaching down to stop Ben but the controller was already whirring against your shorts, sending your back arching off of Jeff’s legs and the blonde smiling wickedly. “May not be fun, but you sure do seem to enjoy yourself a lot because of me.”

“Wha-“ You gasped, clawing back into Jeff’s jeans as he watched, unable to help as his face grew hot, eyes flickering across the scene. You tried to sit up, but Jeff’s hands were on you now, wrapping under your arms and hauling you between his legs, letting Ben work the controller’s handle against your clothed clit as his hands rubbed your body. This was embarrassing, you squirming and writhing against the feeling of the device harshly vibrating against you, the power a direct reflection of Ben’s emotions. It was hard and rough, your gasps and writhing groans making Ben all the more excited as he looked up at Jeff, his expression conflicted between discomforted and getting terribly turned on. “Go on, Jeffrey. Get on with it or leave, either way, I’m making her cum.” You hissed, jerking as the controller handle nudged hard onto your clit, reaching to grab Jeff’s arms that were wrapped around you, clawing into them for some relief.

The killer was conflicted, breathing heavily above you as he watched you come apart, hips jerking with every shove Ben gave of the device. “She said we should break our tie some other way. I say we just found the perfect solution.” The elf smirked. Jeff didn’t particularly know what he was doing, but Ben’s glare and your desperate eyes burning into the killer clicked something, all of his embarrassment washing out as he slid his hands up your shirt, a satisfied chuckle ringing from the blond. “Atta boy.” You were shifting, trying to pry Jeff's hands off as he tugged up your shirt over your bra, body tense as you felt Ben’s fingers slip under your shorts, too. “Guys- Wait-” But they weren't listening, didn’t care to anyway as they hauled your clothes off of your body, sharing hungry looks between the other as your bare skin felt hot and sticky against their rough hands. It was addicting.

Jeff had never particularly thought of you in that way, always seeing you as some stability that he could rely on, but never something he found he desired. You were pretty, beautiful even, but there was always this tension he couldn’t get past. He realized it now though, as he tugged your bra off of your tits and slid the fabric over your head, he knew that tension was just his buried frustration about you. He was never good with emotions anyway, especially his own. “Fuck…” He groaned as he palmed your flesh, your hard nipples satisfying to roll between the pads of his fingers. Goosebumps rose against your skin as your panties were pulled off of your ankles, and tossed aside as Ben reached for the controller again, the familiar buzzing desperately guiding you to shut your legs, but the elf’s hands were already prying them open. They were both chuckling, their hands palmed down hard all over your skin as Ben pressed the handle back to your clit, the bare contact sending your back shooting off of Jeff’s lap with a groan. The vibration was horrible now, squelching and rubbing shakily as your cunt ached, arousal building and clawing its way through. Ben’s eyes were locked on you, gauging your every reaction and slightly contorting the intensity of the device to tug cute little whines from your lips, his bulge growing annoying fast against you.

Jeff was too, his jeans becoming tight against your back as he pulled your nipples up, massaging your tits until you were clawing at his arms, whining for him to be easier. He wouldn’t, it just wasn’t his style, wasn’t what he craved. “Feel good, princess?” Ben hissed, nudging his hips under your thighs and letting his bulge rut against your bare ass, his sweatpants rough against your bare skin. Jeff groaned, rolling his eyes and he pulled you up, positioning under you and letting your back rest against his chest, his hips jerking his bulge against the small of your back. “Princess? Really?” He scoffed, reaching his hand to tug your chin to the side, giving him access to your neck and pecking at the hot skin. Ben glared, the aggression between the two shows in their actions as the controller upped its intensity, handle buzzing hard against your swollen clit, sending you sobbing. Jeff answered with a tight tug of your jaw, biting into the side of your neck just enough to make you panic. They were competing, trying to see who could better stake their claim. You cursed yourself mentally for letting yourself be their solution.

“Well, princess? Answer me, c’mon.” Ben smiled, ignoring the pale killer and letting his hands splay on your waist, your legs wrapped around his waist as he worked the controller in small motions, contorting your clit desperately. You felt like you couldn’t get a stable breath, let alone speak, but the boys listened expectantly, Jeff’s breathing hot against the crook of your neck as he licked against the welts he had created. “I think- Ah- I think I’m close-” You craned, moaning as Ben slid his opposite hand down, running his fingers through the slick between your folds, spreading your arousal against your inner thighs. You groaned as he nudged his fingers into your cunt, spreading the digits against your clenching entrance and pushing his knuckles deeper. You craned, spreading your thighs at the relief of his fingers pushing against your walls, giving good relief to the vibration of the controller still heavy on your throbbing clit. You moaned heartily, jaw hanging open as you threw your head back against Jeff’s shoulder, his fingers quick to press from your jaw and find their way into your lips, pinching at your tongue.

Closing your eyes, you sucked on the digits, letting Ben work his fingers deep into your cunt and tug your arousal further, Jeff gasping as you slid your tongue desperately. They were both watching, lost in the way your face looked flushed and sweaty, your hair clinging to your face and tears pricking against your eyelids. They were groaning, rutting their clothed cocks against your body until your skin felt raw, arching into the way the controller pulsed against you now, jutting your hips. Popping Jeff’s fingers out of your mouth, you cried out, cunt clenching and throbbing as Ben twisted his knuckles up into the gumminess of your walls. “Oh God- ‘Mm cummin- Ben-” You babbled, the boys adjusting quickly under you and prodding and pulling however they could, aiming to see who could nudge you over that last edge. Jeff’s teeth locked against the side of your jaw, his grunts loud in your ear as he twisted your nipples, hauling your orgasm to come crashing into you. “There you go babygirl, cum on his fingers,” Jeff grunted, licking your cheek as the deep red spot grew against your skin, your hands clasping against his arms as he hugged them around you. You were rolling your hips, chasing Ben’s fingers as he slowly pumped them out of you, gathering your slick and spreading it across your sensitive folds, eyes heavy on you. The controller’s rumbling died out, the handle glistening with your arousal and tossed to the side, the elf’s hands hooking around your waist and hauling you closer on his hips. “Good job, princess…”

Ben leaned forward, steadying his weight on top of you as he pressed a kiss against your swollen lips, his tongue pushing itself into your mouth. You whined, sucking on his tongue and panting against his skin as you kissed him sloppily, slobber spreading across your skin. Jeff grumbled, wrapping his arms tighter around your chest and nudging his head into the crook of your neck, kissing against your ear and licking stripes against your shoulder. Even as they were pleasing you, their focus was on each other, their hands pushing against the other’s shoulder or nudging their knees out of the way; it was possessive and mean, you trapped right in the middle. Jeff popped off your neck, shoving Ben’s face off of yours as the blond’s hand wrapped in the killer’s messy hair and tugged him away from you, their growls echoing above you as they glared. You were still dazed, cunt still throbbing from your orgasm as Jeff hauled you up, pushing his back against the couch and setting you onto his lap, right on top of his bulge. “My turn.” He grit, a low rumble in his chest as he forcefully knots your hips down onto the swell in his jeans, Ben fussing in his ear but moving in front of you all the same.

Even through their arguing they worked together, Ben helping to tug your hips up as Jeff reached around to unclasp his belt, letting his cock fling out of his jeans and rest against your soppy cunt. You hissed, the pale killer shifting his hips to let his length spread between your folds, your previous orgasm spreading across his cock. “I’ll fuck ya like you deserve, babygirl. Not with some fuckin’ Nintendo controller.” Ben glared, kneeling between Jeff's legs and pressing close to your cunt, fingers nudging against your tired clit, hauling your body back to life. Jeff positioned, nudging his cock head against your entrance, but your hands flung down, pushing both of them away. “If you two can’t act right, you’re not gonna be doing anything. Jesus, you can’t even fuck without arguing.” You spoke between pants, glaring at the two of them as they sat stunned, looking at the other. “Fine.” Jeff grit, rolling his eyes as he hooked his hands under your knees again, hauling them back and up to spread your cunt wide. You hissed, leaning back against him as Ben repositioned, swiping your hands away and nudging his thumb back onto your clit.

Jeff rested his chin on your shoulder, breathing in your scent as he gripped his cock, nudging the head back against your entrance, flicking against your wetness. You rolled your hips, trying to get him to press in but Ben’s fingers tugged your clit up, making your hips follow with a whine. Jeff grumbled, tugging your legs back further and eventually nudging his hips up to connect with your entrance, slowly pushing in as you stretched around him. “Oh- Oh, my-” You mewled, throwing your head back to rest against the killer’s shoulder, reaching forward to grip Ben’s shoulders for stability as he pressed in. The elf gleamed, letting his hands wrap around your thighs as he pressed forward, pressing his tongue against your clit. You whined, shock writhing as Jeff shifted his hips up, letting the head of his cock nudge deep inside of you and stretch your walls thin, his grunts strained against your shoulder. Ben lapped at your folds, sucking your clit generously as Jeff bottomed out, letting your cunt rest on his balls as he pulsed inside of you, your eyes fluttering shut at the fullness. “Get your fuckin’ tongue off my dick, elf.” The killer grit, cringing at the feeling of Ben’s warm tongue lapping at the base of his dick as he focused on soaking in the taste of your swollen clit. He chuckled, popping off of the swollen nub and replacing it with his thumb, rubbing small circles and looking into the other’s wide eyes. “Be nice, remember?” He teased, pressing his face back in and sucking on your clit, careless to Jeff’s curses every time his tongue passed over the salty taste of the killer’s cock nestled inside of you.

Grunting, Jeff got over it, hauling your legs higher and pulling them further apart, sighing at the stretch of your walls around him as you throbbed. He twisted his hips up, pressing his feet into the hardwood floor and pushing his cock up into your cunt, thrusting slowly as Ben worked your clit. “Shit…” He sighed, rolling his hips back down before pulsing back up. You moaned deep, hands messing up into Ben’s hair and tugging him closer as he swiped his tongue through your folds, practically trying to push the muscle into your entrance as well. Jeff kissed your shoulder, whispering unheard words as the sound of squelching and slapping filled the room, your cunt soaked and crying with pleasure every time the cock inside you pushed against your walls. “Tastes so good, ohmygods-” Ben clenched, grunting as you tugged his face back against your cunt the moment he let off, pushing his tongue back against your folds. He smiled against you, pushing his tongue up into the leftover space of your soaked cunt along with Jeff’s cock, lapping up every ounce of arousal that spilt onto his chin, fingers pulling your wet lips apart. The killer whined a ragged noise as the pressure of your cunt grew, strangling his length as the tongue felt so nice against the underside of his cock. He dug his nails into the underside of your knees, turning his face to catch your lips with his own as you moaned, gasping into his mouth. The noises you made were so pretty, muffled so nicely against his tongue as he wrapped it with yours.

It was all so messy. Spit running down Ben’s chin, Jeff panting and moaning into your mouth the harder he thrust, your whines sobbed between kisses. Everything was so overwhelming, your cunt being pushed and stretched further than you could really handle. “So tight, baby. Jesus, you’re squeezin’ me awful.” Jeff growled against your swollen lips, biting the plump flesh and tugging his cock out all the way to the head just to thrust right back up again. Ben hummed again your cunt, swallowing you and relishing in the taste, begging for more as Jeff’s cock pushed more out, soaking his tongue. “Hurry up and cum, Jeffrey… My turn…” He mumbled against your puffy lips clenching around his lips so nicely, flicking his tongue against your clit again to force you into an orgasm. His cock hurt against his boxers, pushing desperately to get inside of you as he watched Jeff’s schlick in and out raggedly, glossy with your wetness. He reached down, undoing his sweatpant strings and pushing the waistband below his balls, quickly fisting his cock and jerking, precum dribbling down the length. “Fuck off…” Jeff grit, groaning as your entrance pulsed around him when he angled his hips forward. Ben rolled his eyes, standing up and pushing between your legs, cock in hand as he nudges himself down. He couldn’t wait any longer.

Pressing a knee into the space between Jeff’s spread legs, Ben pushes the head of his cock between your spread folds, every bounce of your hips down onto Jeff’s cock forcing the blond’s cockhead to nudge against your clit, making you whine. Ben cursed, your slick gliding across the underside of his length and rubbing him as he reached to grip your tits, massaging the mounds as Jeff glared.

The stimulation was too much, cunt overwhelmed as Jeff thrust harder, trying desperately to prove you could cum without the elf’s help. He let go of your legs, wrapping his arms around your waist and digging his face into your neck, biting down. You cried, hands pressed against his arms and clawing at his skin, legs curling around Ben’s waist as you sobbed, cunt aching and all too sensitive. Skin slapped loudly, juices squelching, and messy slobber hanging on your lips, babbling. You swelled, cockhead still against your clit and nudging you to an orgasm, rolling your eyes back as Jeff clenched his teeth into your skin, groaning his own. He didn’t slow down though, hips pulsing just as fast as he spilt into you, syrupy walls clenching tightly around the girth and milking him, pulsing with every twitch inside. “Jesus…” Ben gasped, fisting his cock as he watched your face flush, heavy eyes zoning out as you felt light, rolling your hips lazily to ride out your orgasm. “Fuck babygirl… What the fuck…” He groaned, lapping at the swollen skin that was forming from his bite, kissing your shoulder until he was focused enough to slip his soaked cock out of your cunt.

Ben was quick to move, desperately tugging you up and twisting you around, knowing you didn’t have good enough strength to sit up anymore. Panting and still hazed, you dug your knees into the couch, straddling Jeff as you pressed your chest against his, hiding your face into his shoulder. Ben nudged behind you, tugging your hips back to meet his and groping at your ass, pulling the skin apart to see your soaked cunt. “Just one more, yeah princess?” Ben huffed, fisting his cock lazily as he pressed the tip between your folds, the warmth already tugging him closer. You sobbed, gripping Jeff’s shoulders and tugging at his hoodie as you nodded, arching gently as Ben slipped his head in.

Your cunt was so warm, so goopy and swollen from your orgasm, but constricting around Ben’s cock just right. Jeff’s cum threatened to leak out, dropping down but Ben caught it with his head, pushing it back into your entrance with a smile. He growled, his left hand holding his hoodie up to his chest while his right gripped onto your hip, nails digging in. Jeff reached around, wrapping his around your back as he kissed your cheek, watching closely as Ben sunk in. “Easy, you fuckin’ pixel bitch,” Jeff warned, reaching down to grip your ass, tugging the mounds in his rough hands as the blond scoffed. “She can take it.” He snapped his hips.

Now, Ben wasn’t as large as Jeff, but he knew how to sway his thrusts just right to make you fall apart. Placing a hand on the small of your back, he pushed down, forcing you to arch as he thrust up into your soppy walls, your cries loud and ragged against Jeff’s shoulder. “Plea- Please- Jesus-” You cried, reaching your hands to grip into Jeff’s messy hair, each snap of Ben’s hips jolting you forward with a slap. Jeff’s arms tensed around you, groaning as he soaked up your cries, cock fluttering to life again underneath. You leaned back, babbling something unheard as you connected your lips with Jeff’s moaning desperately into his mouth, Ben gritting as he snapped upwards into your walls. Reaching forward, the blond tangled his fist into the back of your hair, gripping tight and tugging a chunk back, snapping your head back as you cried.

The elf was overwhelmed, a whining and grunting mess as his hips jolted, slapping loudly into yours as he tugged your hair. He leaned forward, forcing your face to turn as he pecked at your wet lips, brows knit as he continued his pace. Ben was shaking, lost in the warmth and wetness as he slammed in without any sense of coordination, you whimpering against his lips. Jeff growled, gripping your jaw and forcing you back to his lips, a little desperate game of possession starting up. Every few thrusts, the lips you were on would change, the two passing you between them as Jeff snaked a hand along your stomach, reaching to rub at your clit as he licked at your lips. You whined, hips jerking to meet the sensation as Ben tugged your head back to his, forcing his tongue into your mouth. You felt dizzy, position changing so often that you felt like you were spinning as your jaw was dragged back to another pair of lips.

Fed up, you reached behind you, dragging Ben’s head closer as Jeff invaded your mouth, pressing the blond’s lips against yours as well. They both grunted, both tongues slipping into your mouth and fighting for more space, Ben’s thrusts becoming shallow and lazy as he tugged at your swollen lips. Slobber ran and mixed, whines and pants flowing into each other’s mouths as they both shared you, both dragged you onto another orgasm as Jeff’s fingers pinched your clit, Ben’s cock shoving itself deeper when he tugged your hair hard enough to make you cry.

The boys were groaning, moaning against your lips as you came, drinking in your sounds as Ben bottomed out, letting you drag him along as well. Ben let off, his head dropping down against your shoulder as he came deep into your cunt, mixing his cum with Jeff’s, his fists gripping your hips tight and tugging you back further onto him. You pawed at Jeff’s chest, his muscles heaving with every breath as he held you, watching with wide eyes as you gasped through your orgasm, jaw hanging slack and eyes rolling back gently. “So good, babygirl. Look so good like this.” He smiled, gazing at Ben whose face was clenched tight, spilling what was left of his seed and tugging out, watching as your red lips swelled around his head. All of you were sweaty and hot, the TV glow reflecting bright against your red faces and hair clinging to your skin. Pants and grunts followed as you all plopped onto the couch, Jeff holding you as Ben lay on the opposite end, admiring your drenched cunt slowly leaking the mixed cum.

Ben felt so content, so good watching you slowly drift in Jeff’s arms, the killer glancing at him and nodding his head, beckoning for him to come closer. “You look good too. I guess.” Jeff huffed as Ben crawled over, the elf laughing as he awkwardly slid under you, your body crammed between the two as they held you. “So, princess. Who’s the winner?” Ben smiled against your ear, smirking at Jeff as you groaned, glancing through heavy eyes.

“Couldn’t decide. Might need a couple more tries to figure it out.” You mumbled quietly against Jeff’s shoulder, closing your eyes and not thinking anything of the comment as your tired body took over. The boys, however, smiled at each other, rummaging around and positioning you snugly between them. “Good idea.” Jeff smiled, gripping under your knees and pushing them apart, each thigh spread over either boy’s waist. You stirred again, eyes shooting open as Jeff reached around to shove his fingers between your folds, pressing them inside achingly quickly. Ben followed, nudging his face into your neck and kissing the skin as his hands gripped your tits, massaging your arousal back to life. Whining, you gave in, reaching around to grip both of their heads closer to yours as you moaned, their fingers ravaging.

Maybe you could teach them to share, maybe even then you could teach them to be nice…

This was an anonymous request!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

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holyhomo · 4 months ago

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Have always been a HUGE fan of the series since 2011! I do think the series peaked with resurrection. Best cast, best story and while I haven’t played 3, resurrection had the best gameplay compared to it’s previous version Burst and god eater 2 rage burst.

Requested by anon

#god eater #god eater resurrection #holyhomo’s homotastic recommendations #If you ever wonder why Ylva and her sisters are dark skinned with platinum white hair and blue eyes #you can thank Soma from god eater for that and some other female characters to be fair #he’s a pretty (emo) boy #if only he was a she and had tits… 😔

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rinsoccerball · 2 months ago

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My Brothers Best Friend

I’ve been working on this for like four days and i lowkey hate it, im a little rusty at writing smut rn, but im in love with megumi so im posting it anyways

Synopsis: Reader is 18 and Megumi is 20. You’ve always had a crush on your brother Yuuji’s moody best friend, Megumi Fushiguro. He’s always been cold and stand-offish until a summer trip to your hometown changes your dynamic.

Pairing: megumi x f!reader

Wc: 9.1k (i tried to keep it under 10k 😭)

Warnings: HEAVY SMUT! Porn with plot!! corruption kink, loss of virginity, mouth spitting. Mean/softish dom gumi, degradation/praise, creampie, unprotected p in v (don’t be silly wrap that Willy), manhandling, you’re too cute and Megumi wants to ruin you, y/n is used like three or four times, fluffy and angsty.

The rumbling of the car jostled your bags around. "You want a beer?" Misa turned, a cold beer in her hand and you smiled before taking it. "yeah thanks." Her smile was warm. Her green eyes warm in the soft light of the sunset. She was cute, but her wide gorgeous smile made you nervous. Pretty girls always made your palms sweat.

Itsumi turned her head, —your best friend—you'd known her for about three years now, "I can't wait to spend summer with everyone in our hometown" she turned her head back fast since she was driving, focusing back on the road.

"Your hometown." Misa added. She'd been 'dragged' up to your guys hometown. For the first time ever.

You hummed picking at the thread on your jeans, "Me too sumi! School was murdering me" You laughed taking a swig of the beer. "Me too girl me too! finals had me choking myself out." You both laughed and the conversation died down.

You were so grateful to be done for the year. Exams and studying behind you until it started all over again in the fall. But for now you could focus on the heat, and carefree air of your three month break.

Summer was finally here.

Smoke swirled throughout the room, and you coughed. Your body light and your head empty from the blunt being passed around the group. A cat layed across your lap as you leaned against the wall, your eyes slowly scanned the room before landing on her.

Misa. She's so pretty, and everyone swirled around her talking about how gorgeous she was. Even he couldn't keep his eyes off of her. His dark hair was spiked up in its usual style, messy from how many times he'd run his hands through it. His dark blue eyes lidded and heavy from the amount of weed he had inhaled.

She looked over at him and smiled. The same charming smile she uses on everyone. You'd only met her officially six hours ago, but you'd seen her use it a numerous amount of times. Unwarranted jealousy curled up in your stomach and made its way into your throat.

Your cheeks burned from a fresh sunburn and your shoulders ached from opting to not put sunscreen on them. You moved slightly your shirt scratching the burns and you let out a quiet groan. When you moved your eyes up to scan the room again, his eyes were on you. The sunburn hides the flush to your cheeks as your eyes meet and you turn your head. The feeling of shame washing over you for even looking at him.

Megumi Fushiguro. The stupidly attractive 'mean' emo boy that'd you'd had a crush on for the last six years. You met when you were a seventh grader and he was a tenth grader. You'd hung out with a lot of kids older than you. Kids your age were mean, and so Yuuji being your nice older brother took it upon himself to bring you around.

The first time you'd ever seen him was when he had shown up while you were hanging out with Yuuji. Your brother had invited him over only to then drag Megumi away to a party. A small smile on his lips as he looked at you, and waved. After that night, it was over for you.

So now sitting in front of him, freshly eighteen. Wide eyed baked out of your mind— it starts all over again.

Misa hops over to him, and plops down beside him. His lidded eyes move over to her as she smiles big at him. Words are spoken that you can't hear, and you leave to fill your cup back up.

You chug your drink and go to fill it again, "easy there killer, don't you have to drive t'night?" His voice is deeper than you'd remembered, and you turn, blearily looking up at him. "Nah, came with Itsumi and Misa." He hums grabbing your cup from you, "tsk, underage drinking. I'm pretty sure that's a no no." You roll your eyes and turn to grab another plastic cup. "So it's only okay when you do it?"

He ignores your last statement. "Does that mean ur all gonna be at that party tomorrow? At Nobara's?" I take another swig and turn, "obviously, why? Trying to see Misa again?" The alcohol and weed have made you brave. You've never been able to banter with him before.

He gets quiet before diverting the topic, "heard you guys we're going to the beach tomorrow... you got room for more?" You shrug, "not my car." There's a distant yell and then Misa is fast walking up to us, "Megumi you gotta come see this!" She drags him away and you let out a shuddered breath.

You drag yourself to the car and move yourself into the backseat, grabbing your phone and sighing in self pity.

"Whatcha doin back here?" The sound of your brother's presence shakes you from your stupor. Reminding you of where you are. "Just chillin." You smile at him trying to hide the pained look from your face.

He laughs, "oh really?" He scoots in next to you shoving you over. "The party is in there, why're you out here?" His voice is gentle this time and you sigh.

You'd kept this secret from him forever. How could you tell your brother that you've been secretly pining over his best friend for years. He'd be sick to his stomach.

But the mix of alcohol and weed makes you word vomit. "Have you ever wanted something so bad, even though you know you shouldn't. Even though you know you can never have it."

He eyes you suspiciously, "is this about Megumi?" You sputter. Your face heating up all the way to your ears. "How'd you know?" He laughs at your question and slaps a hand on your shoulder. You wince slightly from the sting.

"Im stupid but I'm not blind imouto-san. I know when you like someone. Megumi's oblivious, and a little cold, but he's a good guy, and I approve."

You're taken aback by his soft confession, but it's pointless. "Yeah but... but he'll never feel the same. Im just your little imouto to him, and misa exists. So you know." He laughs again before rubbing your back soothingly. "We've known misa since our freshman year of college. Don't be worried. I think you'd be surprised." And with that he's exiting the car and walking away.

What does that even mean?

That night ended in salty tears and bated breath as you fell asleep in your childhood bed. You thought about crawling into bed with Yuuji, but decided against it. You weren't ten anymore.

Now as you sit on the beach you'd spent countless summers on. You watch as Misa sits thigh to thigh with Megumi, and your chest grows tight. Thanks for your wise words of wisdom Niichan.

The black bikini you'd picked had done nothing to draw his attention, and as you looked out across the water you mentally scolded yourself. What were you doing trying to catch his attention? Stupid. It's summer. Your first summer as a legal adult. You should only be worried about having fun.

So you ran out into the tide, and you heard Itsumi and Nobara laughing as they followed.

Itsumi slightly pushed you but the ocean took its own jab at you as a wave knocked you on your ass. You all laughed and Nobara helped you up. All three of you waded out into the water until you could no longer feel the sandy floor.

"What do you guys think of misa?" You asked kicking your feet to keep yourself afloat. "Shes cool but she's totally only here cause she's had the hots for Megumi since she met him." Itsumi laughed and you grumbled.

"I wouldn't worry about it y/n.. Megumi is a man he probably thinks she's being his friend. Cause that's what he thinks of her." Nobara says, and Itsumi splashes her. "Yeah I dunno, they're def fucking, but I'm rooting for y/n to get that mean emo dick."

You splash her and giggle opting to ignore the comment she made about them sleeping around, "shut up you know I don't care about that." She shakes her head, "obviously not you've been a virgin for eighteen years." You blush and dunk her under the water, and before you know it, all three of you have taken turns trying to drown each other.

After your conversation on the beach you'd relaxed. If it was meant to be than it's meant to be and if not than oh well. So what if he was piping Misa. You'd move on... hopefully. You'd had a good time with everyone. Sipping on something Yuuji and Nobara had concocted and put into a metal water bottle.

You hadn't felt this relaxed in months.

You'd been so relaxed that when it came time for Nobaras party, you hadn't even thought about your silly little crush.

You'd gotten all dressed up with Nobara, Itsumi, and Misa. Music blasting in Nobara's room as you all sipped on Smirnoff's.

They'd already headed downstairs, but you couldn't pull yourself away from the mirror. A cute pink mini skirt covered your lower half, and you'd paired it with a floral halter top. You put cute pink clips in your hair, and did your makeup light and glossed up your lips.

You knew you were pretty, and looking at yourself all dressed up—slightly tipsy. You actually felt it. You smiled at yourself. Pearly white teeth peeking out from behind glossy lips, and as you smoothed down your skirt. You finally decided it was time.

You walked down the stairs of a home you'd been in a million times, but you felt brand new.

You skipped your way through sweaty bodies to the make-shift bar. liquor lined the counters along with some snacks, and you began fixing yourself a drink. Vodka and cranberry juice.

You took a sip of it and grimaced. Okay maybe you'd overdone it with the vodka, but that was okay cause it's summer, and you deserved to let loose.

"Underage drinking again? Bad y/n." At the sound of his smooth deep voice you tensed. "Maneee and I thought I was gonna get away with it." You giggled spinning around to look up at him.

His eyes drank you in from head to toe, and you almost shivered. The way he was inspecting you made you feel like you'd stripped down naked in front of him.

"You look..." he swallowed thickly hooded eyes still studying you. "You look nice." It was your turn to swallow thickly, and you felt no shame as you studied him. Black jeans and a black t-shirt. The same black necklace fitted around his neck that he always wore, and his hair spiked up as usual.

"So do you gumi." You smiled brightly at him taking a sip from your cup. You fought the wince but you were sure he caught it.

"Gumi? That's new, I like it." He looked down at your drink before swiping it from you. "What're you drinking?" He took a sip and raised his eyebrows in surprise.

He choked out a laugh, "what is this vodka with a shot of cranberry juice?" You gasped and tried to snatch your drink from him but he raised his hand higher out of reach.

"What?! It's good.." he shook his head, "it's fucking disgusting." You scoffed and crossed your arms over your chest. "Give it back Megumi."

He kissed his tongue to the back of his teeth, before taking a step closer to you. Now in your personal space he leaned his head down. "That wasn't very polite.. that's not how you ask for things, is it?" He cocked his head slightly, eyes shining mischievously.

"May I please have my drink back Megumi?" You asked sweetly, sugar dripping from your lips as you smile cutely at him. And as Megumi studies you, eyes flitting down to your glossy lips, he's positive that in this room, under these lights, in the fog of all the smoke, you're the prettiest girl he's ever laid eyes on.

"Try again. You're missing something." You look at him puzzled and if he were a weaker man he would've given in and smashed his lips against your pouty, glossy lips.

"Oh! I know!" You clear your throat before continuing sweeter this time. "Gumi, may I please have my drink back?" He stares at you. The same bored look he always sports making you nervous as he takes a deep breath. "Yeah uh." He coughs. "Here... just uhm be careful, be smart." He says gripping your chin and rattling your head.

"Ew gross. Quit flirting and get a room." Nobara says cheekily, hands on her hips. You turn three shades darker as you splutter choking on your drink.

"No no we weren't flirting just talking! Nothing wEird is happening here." You say waving your hands around before shooting her a look that says—im gonna kill you—she laughs moving around you to make herself another drink, and Misa pops up out of nowhere.

"Megumi! Come try this blunt it's so good!" She exclaims smiling as she grabs his arm and pulls him away. He turns his head back to see you already looking at him and he waves at you.

You wave back mouthing "bye" before you turn around to see Itsumi has now popped up with Yuuji. He's got red lipstick smeared against his mouth and he's grinning sheepishly at you.

Her lipsticks smudged and you bark out a laugh. "Good for you sumi." She looks at you then Nobara and then in the direction Megumi has been dragged off to.

"We gotta come up with a plan to get you that emo boy dick" she says determined and Yuuji groans, "eww gross that's my imouto."

Despite Megumi getting dragged off, you've been having a fantastic time. You've danced all over the house. The alcohol thrumming in your veins making you loose. Unaware of the eyes that have watched you all night.

You feel good, weightless, as you dance to the beat with your girl friends, and your brother trying—and failing—to throw ass. You've not had a good laugh like this in a minute, and it's nice.

It's so nice that you don't even care that Megumi is pressed thigh to thigh with Misa on the couch, as they pass a blunt back and forth. You don't care that you've had a crush on him since you were twelve years old, and you don't care that you're now pressed against some random dude.

He's tall, he smells good, and he's whispering naughty stuff in your ear that would usually make you blush. But you don't care, you turn around to loop your arms around the back of his neck and when he leans down to try and kiss you, you dodge it. You shake your finger at him and turn back around. "Saving it." You yell over the music.

"For what?" He whispers in your ear, and the question stumps you. What were you saving it for? Deep down you knew, but when were you going to let go of that childish dream. Megumi was never going to be your first kiss. So why not him? But before you let him press his lips against yours, someone is dragging you by your arm.

You yelp and try to twist your arm free. "Hey! I was just about to—" you don't get to finish your sentence though, his spiky hair coming into view through your bleary vision.

"About to waste your first kiss on that loser. You're drunk. Go drink water." You're taken back by his rough tone and you yank your arm from his grip, even though it makes you grit your teeth in pain.

"Excuse me? Who do you think you are?" You're glaring at him now. How dare he pull you away from your fun. He's a Party pooper and you tell him as much.

"Oh yeah? Ya think so?" He asks dangerous lilt in his voice as he backs you up against the wall of the hallway. Both hands on either side of your head, and the music sounds far-away now as you stare into his eyes. His nose pressed up against yours.

You stare into Megumi's eyes. Longer than you ever have and he really is the most beautiful man you've ever seen.

You feel a stirring in your chest. His eyes a magnetic, intense blue. The color of the sky right before the day ends and night takes hold—the color of dusk.

You shivered, and he rubs your bare arms, "cold?" You shook you head, "no." Those same eyes flickered down to your lips, and as he watched you close your eyes, he clears his throat, and backs away from you. Ruining the moment.

"No why—" You balled his shirt up in your tiny fists, and pulled him in closer. "Don't you feel it?" You asked gesturing in between you both, and he pushes off the wall, hands coming to rest at his sides.

And in the next breath he utters words he wished he could take back immediately. "Feel what?" You turned beet red. Embarrassment, and shame filled you. You pushed him away, unable to hide the hurt on your face and he lets you. Lets you walk to Nobara's room, and out of sight.

The sun shines brightly in Nobara's room. You groan and move the blankets up over your face. "Someone turn off that light."

"It's called the sun dummy. Now get up." Nobara says as Itsumi yanks the blanket completely off of you. "We're going to hang out at your house today." You groan but sit up anyways. Your head thrumming against your skull.

"Who let me get that drunk." You huff as you get out of bed. "Girl bye you're such a lightweight you disappeared way before the party was over." You glare at both of them.

"For good reason too, so shut up." You say noticing you’d passed out in your party outfit. "Someone take me home. Please."

The minute you walk into your house you wanna bolt. Megumi is passed out on the couch, and nostalgia hits you. You watch him for a moment. He looks so young. Cheek smushed into the pillow as he softly snores.

Despite the sadness rising up in you, you make your way up to your room. You collapse on your bed, and the only thing that gets you up again is the sound of the girls all giggling downstairs.

You grab your pink fluffy towel and make your way towards the bathroom. The shower helps with your headache, but does nothing to ease the nausea building inside of you.

Once out of the shower you wrap the towel around yourself, and open the door.

Your eyes land on Megumi's form outside your door. Closed fist hesitating as if he's debating on knocking.

"Why're you standing outside my door like that?" He jumps at the sound of your voice and whips around.

"Uhm well I... see well i?" He pauses, rolling his eyes at himself. "I came to talk to you about last night." You shake your head. "We don't have anything to talk about. You didn't feel it. We're good."

He shakes his head and you sidestep him into your room. "No that's not what I meant. I just didn't want to talk about it while you're hammered." He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I mean I'd just watched you dance on some random for like an hour."

You roll your eyes, "whatever. I need to get dressed." He fixes you with a glare so ínstense that you shut up. "Don't be like that. Im trying..." he sighs, "im trying to be vulnerable and you just need to... to.. shut up and listen."

You stand there looking around awkwardly in your pink towel, "uh okay. I'll just stand here naked while you spill your innermost thoughts and feelings." It seems to really dawn on him that you're only in a towel and he clears his throat. "I'll uhm.. I'll turn around." And he does just that.

"Nu uh, get out. Im naked, you're a man, im not getting dressed in front of you." You cross the room and begin pushing him towards the door, but he protests. "But im turned around."

You shake your head. "I don't care. Im a lady. Wait outside the door." He sighs exasperatedly but does what you say. You close the door and lean against it as you take a deep breath.

You finish dressing, putting on pink sweatpants and a tank top. You open the door as your brushing you hair to let him in but he's gone. You shrug before slipping on fuzzy socks and making your way downstairs.

"Okay what's the—" you stop talking as you enter the living room. Misa is all up on Megumi again, and you fix your gaze somewhere else. "Plan for today."

"Movie marathon!!" Yuuji yells as he jumps up. "Megumi help me with snacks."

"Why m-" Megumi starts but the sound of your brothers voice shouts from the kitchen, "just get in here and help me, jeez"

You sit on the couch next to Itsumi, and she ruffles your wet hair. "How ya feeling?" You groan. "Like I could fill an entire bucket with vomit." She snickers "lightweight." A beat of silence passes before you've realized Megumi and your brother are taking forever.

You sneak up to the kitchen to scare them. Tip toeing your sock covered feet up to the corner when you hear them.

"But did you feel it?" Yuuji asks whispering so that no one past where you're standing can hear them. "Man if I told you what I had felt you'd bury me six feet under." Megumi quips looking down at the ground very interested in the tile. "Ew gross, okay whatever. Just know if you hurt her, then I really will bury you. Alive, in an unmarked grave."

Megumi laughs dryly, and you walk as fast as you can back to the couch but not before hearing, "and you need to find a way to let Misa down gently."

The group is halfway through the movie, passing around a blunt, but you can't seem to focus on anything except what you'd overheard.

How long had they been having conversations like that? Did it mean what you thought it meant? No. It had to be about another girl. That's what he wanted to tell you. That's why he didn't feel it.

If not misa, and definitely not you, then who? You tried to rack your brain of everyone they hung out with at college, but Megumi was pretty closed off. Even in your own group. Maybe it was someone you'd all yet to meet.

"Are you gonna keep the rotation going, or are you gonna hold the blunt hostage?" Misa laughs and you shoot her a playful glare before you're passing it off to your brother.

He nudges you, "you okay?" You nod smiling at him keeping any look of discomfort off your face before you settle back onto the movie.

A couple hours later you hear Nobara groaning and moaning about how she wants to do a bonfire on the beach, and everyone is begging to do it another night.

"How about we do it tomorrow, and I'll make weed brownies," you offer and you can see the wheels turning in her brain. "Okay deal, but they better be good. That last batch was weak AF."

"Eww did you just say af out loud," Itsumi laughs. Nobara sticks her tongue out at her, and you all laugh at them.

The night goes on, and by the time it's dusk outside, everyone has left. Yuuji knocks his knee against yours, and you hum.

"Whatcha thinkin about?"

"The bonfire tomorrow. What I'm gonna wear." It's not entirely a lie, but after Megumi never pulled you aside to talk again, and the conversation you'd overheard you really weren't in the mood to talk about it.

You can feel his eyes on you. Studying you. "Im fine Niichan. I promise!" You say smiling at him and patting his knee to put him at ease.

"I should bake the brownies." You say before swiftly getting up and heading into the kitchen.

Baking has always helped you clear your mind, and so you do just that. Using it as a distraction to finally get some relief from the train wreck your thoughts have become.

The next morning you stood fussing over clothes in your room. Throwing them around, and trying on different outfits. You hated all of them.

You could hear Yuuji yelling at you from downstairs. Giving you a five minute warning, but you tuned him out.

When you finally decided twenty minutes later, much to Yuuji's dismay as you could hear him yelling up at you.

You stood in the mirror, the pink bikini you'd picked out set comfortably under your flowery sundress. The beige sheer shaw you'd picked out slung over your shoulders. Your dark hair in waves from your sleep braids that fell down to your waist.

You grabbed your beach bag, and finally headed downstairs to a grumbling Yuuji.

When you finally arrived to the bonfire on the beach, the music was bumping, and the sun was settling over the horizon.

You sat away from the crowd watching as the tide pushed and pulled the water along the shore. You were two pot brownies in, and honestly you felt at ease. The sun setting casted a golden glow along the beach that warmed your skin and you closed your eyes enjoying the warmth.

"You're always running off." Misa says as she takes a seat next to you. You smile at her, and the wind softly blows your hair off your shoulders.

"I just needed a minute to enjoy the sunset. Isn't it beautiful?" You say wistfully. Watching it with a childlike wonder. No matter how many times you'd seen it, it never got old.

"It really is." She smiled before knocking her shoulder against yours, "just like you." You rolled your eyes, and moved your gaze over her. "Says you, you're goregous misa." She brushes you off, before the mood dips.

"Tell that to Megumi." You tilt your head a look of confusion forming itself onto your face. "Whaddya mean?"

"He just... I dunno, ended? things? between us." The sick feeling of joy spreads through you, but you kept it off your face. Instead opting to wrap an arm around her shoulder genuinely feeling sorry for the girl, despite your horrible glee. "Im so sorry misa I had no idea."

She laughed bitterly. "Yeah. You wanna know something funny?" She paused pain etched onto her beautiful face.

"What?"

"You're the reason. I mean he didn't say it, but it's been pretty clear since we got here.” The words ring in your ears over and over again, and you feel like the butt of some sick joke. Like everyone knew something you didn't.

"Im definitely not the reason misa. I've known Megumi for six years. He's never taken an interest." You try to keep the longing out of your voice, but you’re sure it's reached her.

She knows, everyone did at this point.

"Then you've not been paying attention." She gets up leaving you dumbfounded mouth agape. What did that mean? You found yourself asking this question a lot. How was it that everyone but you knew what was going on.

You want to dwell on it. Turn the words over and over in your head until it makes you sick, but you rejoin the party instead.

You're sitting around the fire when he plops down next to you. Two drinks in his hands, he wordlessly holds one out to you. You take it, a small smile lighting up your face.

"Handing an underage girl alcohol? Im pretty sure that's a no no gumi," you laugh as you mock him his own laugh joining in with yours. "Touché."

You turn to look at him, and your breath catches in your throat. He's wearing a casual egg white button down. The top three buttons undone, and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair is messy, and the light from the fire casts shadows on his face. He looks... beautiful.

Megumi's thoughts mirror yours as he looks you over. The light of the fire illuminates your skin, your hair in messy waves, and your pouty lips are as usual, glossy. He flexes his fingers. Fighting the urge to squish your puffy cheeks together and plant a searing kiss to your mouth.

Instead he compliments your brownies.

"You look really pretty tonight." He mumbles it so low you almost don't catch it. You chew on your bottom lip, and he really wishes you would stop drawing attention to your lips.

"Thank you gumi. So do you." You facepalm as the words come out. "I mean... uhm well what I meant was that you uhm.." you clear your throat, "You look very handsome tonight." His face reddens and he brings his hand up to cover it.

The smile that makes its way onto your face has Megumi melting into a puddle. His stomach swoops, and he swears he's never felt this way before.

A comfortable silence falls over you, as the music plays in the background. You place your hands in the sand and thunder rumbles above you. The feeling of his hand brushing against yours sends a jolt of electricity through your body, and rain begins to fall from the sky.

You look up a pout forming on your lips. "Mane. It wasn't supposed to rain today." He grumbles before standing up and dusting off his jeans. He holds a hand out for you, and by the time he's helping you up the rain is steadily falling.

Everyone begins scrambling to grab their things and hightail it off the beach. You look around and notice that Itsumi and your brother are nowhere to be seen and his car is gone.

The rain is pouring now, and thunder cracks above you. You jump and Megumi chuckles swinging his key around his finger. “Need a ride?"

You smile sheepishly, nodding, before you begin to follow him to his car. By the time you get to the road to your house it's flooded and you huff, "I can't believe Yuuji AND Itsumi abandoned me!"

You smack your lips together running your fingers through your hair, "those traitors." Megumi steals a glance at you, and lets out a laugh. "You're cute when you're grumpy." The comment startles you, your heart now hammering against your ribcage.

"You... you.. OH HUSH." You giggle smacking a hand over your face. "Focus on the road."

When you make it into Megumi's house, you follow him to his room. The thought of being here so many times, but never seeing inside his room almost makes you laugh.

You pass the threshold after him, and study the room. Your eyes sweeping over it. It's so different from your own. The grey walls are covered in band posters, and there's a small black desk pushed up against the window.

The bed is pushed up against the wall in the middle of the room, and a black duvet lays neatly over the mattress. The only spot of color is the green stuffie set atop his dresser. You briskly walk towards it and pick it up.

"Gojo got that for me." He says standing very close behind you. "Of course he did. Silly man." You laugh to yourself. "He's cute, does he have a name."

"No he doesn't." You gasp whipping around to look at him. "That's horrible. You're a terrible stuffie dad. I will name him… Meggy!!" He shakes his head at you before plucking it from your hands and placing it back in its spot.

"That's perfect."

After changing into one of Megumi's very large blue hoodies, and his black sweatpants, you make your way out of the bathroom and to the living room.

You stand in front of him shrunken into his clothes and he snorts. "You're so tiny." You roll your eyes, "or maybe you're just freakishly large."

He scoots to the edge of the couch and grabs your arm dragging you to halfway straddle his lap. You hesitate over him. Unsure and nervous as you look down at him.

"Sit." He commands and you find it hard to oppose him so you do. You straddle your childhood crush a furious blush taking space over your cheeks.

"Why do you want me on your lap?" You ask playing with the sleeves of his hoodie that spill past your hands.

"Cause I wanna talk to you sweet girl." He says tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. "Ew don't do that I'll look like a goblin." You say untucking the hair from your ear. "And you can only do that like this?"

He laughs a real genuine laugh finding you so unbearably adorable, and you look up at him unsure of yourself. "I thought you wanted to talk yesterday, but you were gone." He looks away from you, "yeah Misa needed help with something." You roll your eyes feeling brave "of course she did."

"You've gotten really mouthy." He states. Squishing your cheeks in his hand. "Yeah well you've become a slut so.." he thumps you on the forehead, "ow that hurt dickhead." He shrugs coolly.

"Watch your mouth."

You groan, "quit talking to me like that, get back with misa or whatever." He eyes you as you sit up. "Shut up and Listen." He drags you closer to him, and he rests his hands on your hips. "You're such a big baby, what I was going to say yesterday was, I didn't want you talking to me about feelings when you're drunk and grinding up on random dudes-"

You cross your arms over your chest. "You've been all the way up Misa's ass. And you've definitely done you know what... so.. so I don't want to hear it"

"Done what?!" He laughs poking your cheek. "Done sex you know what I was talking about don't be an ass." He smirks. "Yeah we have, but you keep getting me off track. will you close your trap."

You scoff in disgust and go to move off him, but he keeps you firmly planted in his lap. "Ugh, fine. go on!"

"Look at me." He snaps sharply, and you're unable to do anything but obey. "You gonna be good now?" You shiver at the roughness of his voice and you nod, "yes gumi. I'll be good."

He smooths your hair down and smiles, "atta girl."

"Now as I was saying. I did feel it. I've felt this undeniable pull to you, and I don't know why I can never do this, I over complicate it, but I just need to say it. Get it out of my system before you go and move on." He takes a deep breath, and for the first time since you were thirteen, you feel hope bloom inside you.

Your breath comes out in ragged gasps, heart pounding as his eyes hold the softest look you'd ever seen. The weight of your feelings pressing down like a thousand unspoken words. You had tried, over and over, to hide it—to bury it deep where it couldn't hurt. But now, sitting on his lap, it was finally real.

It was right here. He was going to confess, be yours. Finally he was in your reach. It was finally something tangible. You could see it playing out so clearly you could touch it. Taste it on your tongue.

"I... I've tried so many times to say it without actually saying it," he began, voice cracking slightly. "I've tried to convince myself that maybe it was just a passing thing, just a phase or some kind of illusion. But I can't lie to myself anymore."

He took a deep breath, the world around you fading into the background as you focused on the only person who mattered. Not some random guy at a party, and certainly not Misa.

"I like you, y/n. I've liked you for longer than I care to admit. It's not just the way you make me feel when you're near—though that's more than I ever thought possible—but it's the way you see the world, the way you make everything brighter just by existing in it. I know what I said in the hallway was fucked, and I'm not asking for anything in return. I just... after seeing you at Nobara's party it finally clicked. I can't go on pretending I don't feel like this."

You let out the biggest breath. A breath you'd been holding for years as the weight of his confession lulled over you. You relished in it. Delighted in it. This is what misa and Yuuji had been talking about.

Everything was starting to make sense. Him lingering around you. The staring you mistook for him looking out for you. The dragging you away from the random guy. Trying to make plans to tag along to the beach. You really were the only one not paying attention. Too caught up in your own feelings of self pity.

You took a deep breath as you carefully considered your next words "Gumi. When I was dancing on that guy at the party, before I turned around to kiss him he asked me a question. I dodged his first kiss. Told him I was saving it, and he asked 'for what?'... it really made me think, and what i realized was, I've been saving it for you, and I knew you and misa were like a thing so I decided I was gonna move on. Get it over with"

You paused taking a deep breath and you watched him, watch you with baited breath waiting for you to tell him off. After all those years of indifference, but you couldn't.

"But Im so glad you pulled me away." You sighed. "I really like you too gumi, ever since I was twelve all I've ever wanted is you. You have no idea how long I've waited."

"What I had going on with misa is over by the way." You hummed fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "I know." A beat of silence passed as he studied you.

He gripped your hips tighter. "You've been saving your first kiss for me?" The question is innocent, simple, sweet, or at least it would be if the fire burning in his cerulean eyes wasn't threatening to swallow you up.

You nodded sheepishly and he groaned, "you have no idea what you do to me. Skipping around in your pink mini skirts. With your fucking hair clips, staring up at me with big doe eyes and glossy lips. And now this" He presses the crown of his head to your collarbone, and let's out a shaky breath.

He looks back up, an expression you'd never seen from him etched onto his handsome face. It had you shrinking in on yourself.

"Do you want this?" He breathes, and the air around you crackles to life. You nod squeaking out, "yes gumi."

"Yeah? You want me baby?" He whispers breath ghosting over your skin, and you bite back the whine building up in your throat.

"Been saving yourself for me?" His voice holds an edge now, barely containing himself as he walks a dangerous line.

All it takes is a nod, and he's pressing his lips against yours. It's soft and sweet at first, but he pries open your mouth with his tongue, and it becomes haughty. Messy. Heavy. The air heats up around you, and you can feel a nervous sweat break out on your hairline.

He's threading his fingers in your hair and tugging your head back as he devours your mouth. Kissing you like a man who's never really been full, and you respond with equal enthusiasm. This was the first time in your life that you'd felt like you would never be able to get enough. Like no matter how long you sat glued to his lap swirling your tongues around each other, you would always crave more of him.

He pulls away slightly resting his forehead against yours. His chest heaving and you're panting into his open mouth. "Beg for it. Beg for me. Know you want it," he rasps. So you do. You beg him to touch you, kiss you, fill you up, anything he wants, just ease the fire burning inside of you.

Soon he's lifting you up, and carrying you to his bedroom. He gently plops you onto the bed. You look up at him, his dark spiky hair, and lust blown eyes has your panties dampening.

“Fuck. You really have no idea what you do to me.” He looms over you, brushing the hair out of your face. You wide innocent eyes watching him barely contain himself.

“So good and innocent. Saving your firsts for me. Do you know what that does to a guy like me?” He asks dragging the hem of his hoodie up slightly to touch your skin.

“No,” you respond meekly. Nerve endings in your body lighting up.

“I’ll tell you then silly girl.” He kisses your neck panting against you, “Makes my cock hard. Makes me wanna ruin you. Corrupt you, until all you can do is state up at me with watery eyes while I stretch out that pretty pussy.”

The words slip from his mouth so easily. They’re so dirty and yet he’s saying them like it’s no big deal. It has your face heating up.

“You want that baby? Hm?” His voice is gruff as he speaks, and you nod.

“Tsk, uh uh, I need words pretty girl. Tell gumi how much you want it.” You bite your bottom lip. Watery eyes looking up at him pleadingly.

“Please gumi want you to take my virginity. Want you to stretch my pussy out. Want you so bad please.” You pout making grabby hands at him, and he’s groaning against your neck.

“Fuck, you’re so sweet. So innocent. It’s a shame really. How im about to ruin you.” And with that he’s pulling the hoodie over your head. Then he's quickly pulling off your panties and sweatpants.

He sits back on his haunches, and drinks in your naked body. Long fingers splayed over your tummy. "Can't believe this is all for me. You're so perfect baby. No one's ever seen you like this?" He asks dipping his head down to suck a pert nipple into his mouth.

"Hhh~ No gumi." You whimper out tangling your fingers in his soft hair, and he pulls off your nipple with a loud, wet, pop. "Yeah. Just me right baby? Only for me?"

You nod frantically squirming as he toys with the other nipple, circling his pointer finger around it, making your chest heave.

"Gumiiii please touch me." You whine arching your back off the bed. He smiles at you sadistically, wolfishly, "I am touching you pretty girl. Ur gonna haveta be more specific."

You whine again, pouting at him as you try to push his hand down to where you're dripping between your legs.

"Ah ah ah, I said be specific, otherwise you're not getting anything." The lilt in his voice has another wave of slick sliding out of you, and you shyly whimper, "my pussy... please gumi."

"What about your pussy baby?" He bites his lip enjoying the way you struggle. You groan and writhe around. "Touch my pussy gumi please. Hurts so bad."

"Aww baby.. do you need me to make it better?" He slides his hand down your body. Roughly prying your legs open as he lays on his stomach to inspect your achey cunt.

"Oh baby. You're so wet, Ive barely done anything and you're leaking all over my sheets, naughty girl." He says spreading the lips of your pussy open before letting out a low groan, "fuckkk, can't wait to sink my cock into your slutty little pussy. I think she likes me."

You cover your face with your hands and try to close your legs out of embarrassment, “stop… stop that.” Which megumi doesn’t seem to like because he’s biting the inside of your thigh, and hooking an arm under your leg to keep it open, “behave.” He shoots you a warning look and you clench around nothing.

Which he doesn’t seem to miss cause he’s cooing at you condescendingly, before he’s sliding a long finger into your pussy. Just the stretch of his fingers has you twisting your body, brain fuzzy as he curves it up.

He groans sliding in a second finger. “You’re so wet baby.” He throws you a wolfish grin, “you’re such a nasty girl, letting me play with your cute pussy like this.” You keen arching your back off the bed again and he begins pumping his fingers into you. He used the pad of his fingers to prod at a spot inside of you that has you whimpering and squirming.

It’s all too much and it’s only just his fingers. White hot pleasure spreads through your body, and as he wraps his lips around your clit, swirling and flicking his tongue around it. It only gets worse. The steady flow of whines that leave your mouth won’t stop, and you’d be ashamed if you weren’t so embarrassingly close.

“Gumi gunna” hic “gunna cum.” His fingers mover quicker now, and before you know it your body is tightening up, legs shaking as he makes you cum for the first time in your life. He releases your clit with a wet pop, before he’s moving back up to hover over your body.

You’re panting as he slots his covered dick over your wet heat, and despite his words has this look on his face that turns your insides to goo. “Good girl, took my fingers so well.” The temperature in the room spikes as he rolls his hips over your core. The rough material of his jeans catches on your clit and you gasp.

“Yeah baby? Sensitive? Already?” He chuckles, finding your red scrunched up face and pouty lips amusing.

“Don’t know how you’re gonna fit my cock in that tiny little pussy, but you’ll try for me right baby?” He’s sitting up removing his shirt, jeans, and underwear. Your lips part as you shamelessly eye his body.

He’s lean yet muscular, his pale skin illuminated by the soft light of the moon peaking in through the window. And that’s when you see it, the absolute monster he’s been hiding He’s thick, and long. It’s the first dick you’ve ever seen, but you know it’s pretty. You can tell it’s heavy cause it’s hangs the thickness weighing down.

He watches you, breath heaving as you take him in, a smug smile tilting up his lips as you gawk at him. There’s something strange about his tip though. Poking out of the thick mushroom head is a silver piece of jewelry, and you gasp.

“Is that-“ he nods moving back over you. He hooks a leg around his waist, and rubs your thigh soothingly. “It’s a Prince Albert piercing. Don’t worry, it’ll feel really good.” You eye him skeptically. “It’s not gonna fit gumi.” He coos at you again, slapping his bulbous tip over your clit, “Then I’ll make it fit.”

With that he’s knocking his sticky mushroom tip into your entrance. “Take a deep breath for me pretty girl.” And you do. You take the as much air as you can get into your lungs before the initial stretch of him sliding just the tip into your gummy walls has you choking out a gasp.

“Shit.. ah, you’re squeezing me so tight. You gotta relax, take another big breathe for me.” And you do. If you thought the tip was the worst part you were wrong. He’s made it a little more than halfway down, and each inch feels like your being stretched beyond your limit. It burns, and you’re looking up at his strained face with wet teary eyes.

He pushes the last little bit to the hilt and rocks into you gyrating his hips and you can feel the piercing press into your cervix. It immediately has you squeezing his biceps, nails digging into the muscle, and he groans.

“Gumi no, tooo big.” He shakes his head looking down to where you’re virgin cunt is swallowing him whole. He can feel everything. The way your gummy walls clamp and gush around him has him holding onto his sanity by a thread.

You sit like this for a moment, bodies pressed together as he kisses you gently. One arm is curled around your head, and the other is being used to hold him up using his forearm. He pulls back his long lashes standing out to you as your mind goes fuzzy. The pain has ebbed away. Replaced by a pulsing need that thrums throughout your entire body.

“Gonna move now. okay pretty baby?” He asks bumping his nose against yours gently, and you nod. The first thrust is shallow, but it still feels overwhelming. This time though it’s in a much better way. It has your mouth dropping open.

He’s got his eyebrows pinched together as he looks into your eyes. It has you shyly turning away, but he’s not having any of that. He grips your jaw squeezing your cheeks together. “Uh uh eyes on me. Wanna see your face while I ruin this pussy.”

You can’t seem to do anything but moan as he begins a steady pace of rocking into you, and with every push into your wet heat. He starts to lose his composure.

First you can see it in his eyes. Hazy and lidded as holds your gaze. Then he starts snapping his hips into you. You’re letting out embarrassing sounds. Gasping, moaning, whining, whimpering his name. Like a mantra over and over again.

You can see when the cord really snaps though. When he really loses it, he’s groaning and plowing into you. The pap pap pap of his balls against your ass and the sounds you both make are the only thing that fills the room, he hits something inside your cunt that is so good, you cum.

That’s when he loses it. You see the wheels turning in his brain, and now he’s fixing you with a depraved look. “Didn’t say you could do that.. did i?” All you can do is shake your head. Glazed over eyes staring up at him stupidly.

“You’re such a nasty slut. I give you a little bit of dick, and you forget your manners.” He’s gripping your face in his hand, “stick out your tongue.” Albeit a little confused you do as your told. You open your mouth and stick out your tongue. What he does next has you clamping tightly around his cock.

He corrugates his lips a loud pff sound echoes around as his spit lands on your tongue. You’re too far gone now to be embarrassed and he does it again letting it drip into your mouth this time. “Swallow it.” He says words breaking off into a groan as you wrap your other leg around his waist.

You do, and it’s so lewd and nasty but it makes you impossibly wetter. You never knew Megumi was so dirty. “Liked that didn’t you? Can feel your messy cunt squeezing me so tight… fuck.”

His thrusts become erratic and messy. His own eyes now glazed over as he chases his high. “Shit.. this pussy is s’good.” He huffs blowing out a puff of air, and you look up at him wonder in your eyes. He’s sweaty, his face is tinted pink, and his hair lays flat over his head.

“Atta girl, taking me so well, look so cute lookin up at me like that. So innocent even though I’m fuckin you dumb.” He bites your neck, sucking a purple bruise on it, and you feel your orgasm building up in your tummy.

“This slutty little cunts mine now, you’re mine. Im the first and last man that’s ever gonna fill this cunt. Right baby.” You nod feverishly, “all yours gumi. Never anyone else’s.”

“Fuck.” He groans forehead resting against yours. “Gonna,” hhh— “fill you up real good. You want that? Hm?” You whimper, “yes gumi please.”

He brings a hand down over your stomach pushing down, erratic thrusts increasing in speed. He sits up using his other hand to drag you onto his cock by gripping your hip. You’ve still got your leg locked around his hip.

The new angle has him hitting a spot inside you that had you preening. You gasp body thrashing as you cum hard around him again, and he smiles so softly in contrast to the way he’s fucking you. “Atta girl, been taking me so well.”

He huffs eyebrows furrowing together again as he looks at where he disappears inside of you. “Gonna fill you up, g’na cum so much. Gonna make you take it all,” and no later after the words leave his mouth in rushed, whiney, desperation. He’s filling you up with hot, sticky cum that warms you from the inside out.

There’s so much that you wiggle your hips in discomfort only for him to grip your hips tighter and hold you to him. His hips rolling into you without pulling out to push it deeper and you whine. “Gumiii no more please.” You’re pushing at his stomach flexed abs hard, yet soft under your fingertips.

He ruffles his hair, dragging a heavy hand through it before he’s grinning at you. “S’lright baby just making sure it stays in.” You clench again at the sound of his rough voice, and he’s swatting your hip. “Knock that shit off before I get hard again.”

After you both get cleaned up, you’re laying on his chest as he scrolls through Netflix. He’s absentmindedly playing with your hair, and you feel perfectly content. Finally at peace.

“Sooo does this mean we’re dating now?” He asks as he chooses a movie. You giggle as you draw shapes on his skin.

“I’d say so gumi. Im all yours now.”

#jjk fanfic #jjk smut #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro smut #megumi x you #megumi smut #megumi angst #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu megumi

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tanghuyuj · 3 months ago

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we get, the same! a kim woonhak smau

genre: smau w/ some written, fluff, comedy, highschool au, grumpy (reader) x sunshine (woonhak) but reader is just a fake emo, black cat x golden retriever, classmates to frenemies to lovers, mutual pining one’s just more obvious than the other..

synopsis: it’s the start of the new school year and you’re not excited whatsoever. though, your classmate and desk partner, kim woonhak, is beyond excited. you two evidently don’t get along well, bickering left and right. but when you begin to notice small details that woonhak does for you and it seems as if your whole school is just waiting for you to get together, you start to spiral.

pairing: non-idol!woonhak x gn!reader

featuring: all boynextdoor members, belle from kiss of life, gunwook and gyuvin from zb1, and jihoon from tws

status: started jan. 11, 2025 - ended april 6, 2025

warnings: swearing, profanity, inaccurate timestamps, specific warnings will be on each chap!

playlist: the whole album: ‘we get, the same’ by the poles, ‘blue salvia’ by PRYVT, ‘but i like you’ by boynextdoor, ‘it could happen to you’ by laufey, ‘blue jeans’ by warren hue, ‘everything i want’ by beabadoobee, ‘gorgeous’ by taylor swift

profiles: belle and the 4 dwarves || the boys next door 😈💥

prologue - by gay do u mean happy??????

#1 - Guys..?

#2 - get help ASAP!

#3 - 🙂 u smartass

#4 - u are not real bro 😭

#5 - enuf! 🤓✋

#6 - karaoke realness

#7 - dis funny as hell

#8 - ur weird asf

#9 - You da man ❤️❤️ ~0.4k wc

#10 - shrek the musical ~1.1k wc

#11 - JAEHYUN WHY WOULD U SAY THAT

#12 - i eat this up everytime 🚬🚬

#13 - This is a new level of denial ❤️

#14 - what the huzz!!!! 😂😂

#15 - BOI THAT’S ALL U

#16 - pretty ~0.2k wc

#17 - ts tuff 🤙🔥

#18 - Yo… Wait a sec…

#19 - 𝔀𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓰.. 👅

#20 - WOONHAK FIRST WIN

#21 - get at em!!

#22 - the date ~2.1k

#23 - be mine? (fin.)

BONUS: woonhak finds yn’s priv

maia’s note: SOOO EXCITED to start this!!! i truly luv woonhak so much and this whole smau has been a developing idea in my head that i’m finally going thru with :) also my first ever smau series so i’m a bit nervous. i hope u all enjoy and like it as much as i do! likes, reblogs, and feedback are always appreciated! 🩵

taglist: @kekaekeke @mimimimiaa @s0shroe @mungbeancoups @molensworld @en-dream @kaiyunsim @httpenhoon @ranjupotato @cinnamonshuaa @pinklemonade34 @kazemiya @siekksjs @sirenla @kittkyu @mensisim @livibbu @junhanism @enzstr @thea-herondale @i03jae @sionshiii @helpsplease @yurisblooming @defnotsanni @haechology @janjoonty @petralovesbonedo @anormieee @nineooooo @oowir @luvkwh @skibidihan @mbella607 @stantxtforabetterlife @midnight-rain-pdf @massiveunicorn6969 @bambisnc @mymelodyfanatic @slowlylefttyphoon @hrtleehan @ribbeoms @winteringdream @starboy-library send an ask or comment to be added!

please do not copy, repost, or translate. do not spam likes. please spam reblogs instead.

#tanghuyuj.. works !#we get the same! ☁️#boynextdoor x reader #bnd x reader #boynextdoor smau #bnd smau #kim woonhak #woonhak smau #woonhak x reader #boynextdoor fluff #bnd woonhak #boynextdoor woonhak #boynextdoor #boynextdoor fanfic

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shokocide · 14 hours ago

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HEY, EMO BOY! - CHOSO KAMO

summary. Choso doesn’t do distractions. But then you walk into his show and ruin his focus with one look. And now, he’s handing you his guitar, his heart, maybe more. And baby, you haven’t even seen what those fingers can really do.

word count. 10.5k (i got a lil carried away)

content. mdni fem! reader, bassist! choso, mutual pining, heavy tension, choso is a tease (and so down bad), really lovey-dovey shi like bro's not even emo, pet names, smut, fingering, oral (fem rec.), p in v, mating press, praise, creampie, slight overstim, aftercare

author's note. saw this fanart and started ovulating on demand.

"Come on, it'll be fun," Shoko says, tugging on your sleeve with the persistence of a woman who knows you have no other plans. "You like music. You like hot guys. This is both."

You squint at her, unconvinced. "You said that last time and we ended up at some dude’s garage while he rapped about capitalism."

She grins. “And it was unforgettable.”

“You spilled beer on my shoes.”

“And I’ve had character development after that.”

You roll your eyes, but she already knows she's won. She’s practically vibrating with excitement as she drags you through the dimly lit alley that opens into an even dimmer basement venue—graffiti-tagged walls, sticker-covered speakers, the scent of cigarettes and something vaguely fruity in the air.

The lights are low, the crowd humming with quiet energy, and the stage is set but empty—just a drum kit, a couple mics, and a bass propped against its amp like it’s waiting for someone.

“You’re gonna love them,” Shoko whispers, already pulling out her phone to snap photos. “The music’s sick. And the bassist—”

You blink at her.

“The bassist,” she repeats, dramatically placing a hand over her heart. “Tall, broody, pretty eyes. Never says a damn word on stage but plays like he’s in pain.”

You scoff. “You’ve got issues.”

“Just wait,” she says. “You’re not ready.”

And you’re not.

Because when the band finally comes on stage and the lights cut through the haze, your eyes lock onto him—tall, dark, dressed in all black with his bass slung low, rings glinting on his fingers, and a half-lidded stare like he’s seeing ghosts.

And when he starts playing? Oh. Yeah. You’re done for.

The lights dim, bathing the room in moody blue and red hues. The crowd hushes—just for a moment—then the first chord explodes through the speakers. It’s loud, raw, electric, vibrating through the floor and straight up your spine.

You don’t flinch.

You should. The guy next to you does. Shoko’s already swaying to the beat like she’s been here a thousand times. But you? You’re frozen—entranced.

Not by the music. Not really.

By him.

The bassist, standing off to the left like he doesn’t crave the spotlight, like he’s content letting the others take the lead. But he’s the one you see. The one who owns the stage.

He’s tall and he’s wearing a loose black button-up, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the top few buttons left undone to tease just enough of his pale, sculpted chest. The stage lights catch on the gleam of sweat on his collarbones, highlighting every sharp angle and subtle flex of muscle as he moves with the rhythm. His fingers dance over the bass strings with practiced ease, and that’s when you notice it—apart from the black nail polish, each one is tattooed with a letter: C-H-O-S-O.

His long, dark hair is loose, falling in waves to the base of his neck, the ends brushing over his collar. The soft purple eyeshadow dusting his eyelids makes his deep-set eyes pop, casting shadows that only add to his sharp features. A bold tattoo cuts across the bridge of his nose, stark against his pale skin.

His brows are furrowed, mouth set in a hard, concentrated line, and his fingers—god, his fingers—they dance over the strings like he was born with a bass in his hands. There’s something hypnotic about the way he plays. Focused. Intense. Like the world doesn’t exist outside of this moment.

You don’t even realize you’re staring until Shoko elbows you lightly. “Told you,” she shouts in your ear, grinning like the smug little shit she is.

You nod, but your eyes don’t move. You can’t look away. It’s like you’ve been put under some kind of spell.

And then—then—mid-song, his head lifts just slightly. His gaze cuts through the haze and crowd and colored lights, and lands right on you. You swear it. A spark of something sharp and electric zips down your spine.

He doesn’t smile. Doesn’t nod. Just holds your gaze for a breath longer than necessary before he looks away, like he felt it too.

Like he knew.

Like the music wasn’t the only thing pulling strings tonight.

The band keeps playing, song after song bleeding into one another, but you barely register any of it.

Your eyes keep straying to him. Choso—at least, you think that’s his name, judging by the ink on his fingers. Fitting, really. It lingers in your head like a low bassline: heavy, addictive.

At one point, you swear he looks at you again.

Really looks.

And even if it’s just for a second, it feels like a live wire pressed to your skin.

You down the rest of your drink to keep yourself from combusting.

Shoko leans in and shouts something in your ear over the music—probably the band’s name or some fun fact about the drummer—but your eyes are locked on him. You nod absently, your smile weak, dazed, because how the hell are you supposed to listen to anyone else when he’s up there, commanding your every thought?

By the time the band wraps up their final song, you’re already craning your neck for a better look. You don't even realize you're moving toward the stage until Shoko’s hand snags your wrist.

"Where are you going?"

You blink, startled like you’ve been caught red-handed. "I—I don’t know."

But you do.

You’re hoping to get closer. Maybe he’ll notice you again.

Maybe he already has.

You find yourself outside the venue before you even realize what you’re doing—leaning against the brick wall, half hidden in the shadows, heart hammering like you’d just finished a set yourself. The crisp night air cools your skin, but it does nothing to quiet the heat bubbling beneath it.

You tell yourself you just needed some air.

That’s all.

Totally not waiting around like some groupie for a guy you don’t even know.

The door creaks open behind you, and a familiar pair of boots crunches against gravel. Shoko squints at you suspiciously.

“You good?” she asks, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with a quick flick. “You just disappeared.”

You shrug, too casual. “Yeah. Just needed a breather.”

She takes a drag, exhales slow. “Right. A breather. After not dancing and not drinking that much.”

You shoot her a side-eye. “Do you always interrogate people for wanting fresh air?”

“Only when they’ve been acting weird since the bassist took the stage.” She raises an eyebrow. “You’re not slick, y’know.”

You scoff, glancing away before she can catch the way your face warms. "I don't know what you’re talking about."

Shoko chuckles like she definitely knows what she’s talking about, but bless her, she doesn’t press it. Just smirks, gives your arm a little nudge. “He was hot, though.”

You give a noncommittal hum, eyes scanning every shadowed corner, every rusted doorway, hoping—just hoping—you might catch another glimpse of him. Choso. You’re almost certain that’s his name. It suits him. Dark. Sharp.

You won’t tell her, of course, but—yes.

Yes, this was fun.

Yes, she was absolutely right to drag you here.

Yes, the bassist was fine as hell and maybe, just maybe, you’ve developed the tiniest, stupidest little crush on a guy whose voice you haven’t even heard yet.

But god, you want to.

Even just once.

A glimpse. A moment. Anything.

And just when you think it’s time to give up, to stop being delusional and head home—

The door swings open again.

And this time, it’s him.

Panic.

Real, irrational, full-body panic.

Because there he is. Standing a few feet away. In the flesh. The bassist.

Loose black button-up clinging to his frame, sleeves still rolled up from the show, revealing forearms that shouldn’t be legal. The glint of his rings catching the light. A faint sheen of sweat still clinging to his collarbone—god, you can see it because the top few buttons are still undone, teasing just enough pale skin to keep you up at night.

And his eyes—

His eyes are rimmed with that soft, dusty lavender, and they’re looking straight at you.

You glance side to side like you might Houdini yourself out of this moment. Maybe if you ran fast enough, you could avoid embarrassing yourself beyond repair. Maybe if you—

Shoko bumps your shoulder, casual and smug. “Now’s your chance.”

“Chance for what?” you hiss, heart thudding in your ears. “To spontaneously combust? To make an idiot out of myself?”

But it’s too late.

Because before you can overthink your next twelve moves or plan a strategic escape—

He’s walking toward you.

Slow, calm, confident.

Like he knows what he’s doing to you.

Before you can say something completely unhinged, like “your bass playing did something weird to my hormones”, you feel Shoko shift beside you.

You whip your head toward her, silently begging for assistance, for backup, for escape. But she just smirks, looking between the two of you like she already knows exactly how this night’s gonna go.

“Well,” she says with a wink, already turning on her heel. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Your eyes nearly bulge out of your skull. “Shoko. No. Shoko, wait—SHOKO.”

But she’s already walking away like she didn’t just abandon you to the mercy of the hottest man you’ve ever laid eyes on.

And now—

Now he’s standing right in front of you.

He smells like sweat and incense and something dark—something addictive.

“You waited,” he says, voice lower than expected, rich. His lips curl, just barely. “Were you hoping for an autograph… or something else?”

You blink.

He knows.

Your mouth opens. Then closes. Then opens again.

An autograph? Something else? What the hell does something else even mean—wait, you know what it means, OH GOD—

“I��I wasn’t waiting— I mean, I was, but not like—like in a weird way or anything!” you blurt, the words tumbling out like a panicked avalanche. “Not that liking your music is weird. I mean, it was good! Really good. You were good. Not in that way, I mean—not that you wouldn’t be—oh my God—”

You slap a hand over your face.

Abort mission. Let the ground open up. End scene.

When you peek through your fingers, he’s just watching you, amused, head tilted slightly to the side.

Then—he chuckles. Actually chuckles.

It’s low and quiet and kind of devastating.

“I was right,” he murmurs, voice all honeyed steel. “Cute.”

You make a high-pitched noise that cannot be classified as human.

And Choso—Choso just leans in slightly, lowering his voice like he’s offering a secret.

“Relax. I don’t bite.” A beat. “Unless you want me to.”

You definitely stop breathing.

Your brain is just a dial-up tone as you stare at him, stunned into silence, because did he actually just say that? He did. He really did. And he’s still looking at you like he’s waiting for your answer.

But when you open your mouth, what comes out is: “I—uh—yeah. I mean no. I mean—I don’t know what I mean.”

He grins. Not a smirk. A real, soft little grin, like he likes the mess you’ve become.

“Wanna get some air?” he asks, jerking his chin toward the alleyway beside the venue, quieter now that the band’s done and the crowd’s thinned.

You nod way too fast.

So you end up outside, standing under the faded neon of the venue sign, arms crossed to hide how jittery you are. Choso leans against the wall beside you, lighting a cigarette. The glow flares against his sharp cheekbones, his lashes casting shadows on his skin.

“So,” he says, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “You liked the set?”

“Yeah,” you say, trying not to look at his hands. His tattooed fingers. “You were… really good.”

He hums, clearly amused. “Still not in that way?”

You bury your face in your hands again.

He laughs under his breath, then nudges your shoulder with his. “You got a name, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart.

Oh, how you were so very fucked.

You tell him your name. And when he repeats it softly, your knees almost give out.

Then he offers, “I’m Choso, by the way.”

Like it’s a gift.

And before the night ends, he asks if you’re coming to the next gig.

“Only if you’re playing,” you manage to say.

To which he replies, “I’ll be there if you are.”

shoko: hello?? where are you???

shoko: ANSWER ME

shoko: sigh

shoko: i didn’t want it to come to this but you leave me no choice

shoko: i’m checking your location.

shoko: GIRL WHAT ARE YOU STILL DOING THERE

shoko: 2 missed calls

shoko: you better give me answers the second you're online...or else.

you: dot dot dot

shoko: WHAT. HAPPENED.

you: emergency phone call

shoko: 🧍‍♀️

shoko: you’re a terrible liar

you: ok but like.

you: it wasn’t a lie. it was an emergency. a hot boy emergency

shoko: OH MY GOD.

shoko: OH MY GODDDDD.

you: he talked to me

you: HE TALKED TO ME SHOKO

shoko: AND???

you: and i said dumb shit

you: and he still talked to me

you: and i think i blacked out at one point??

you: but like. the good kind

shoko:YOU’RE TELLING ME MYSTERIOUS HOT BASSIST MAN TALKED TO YOU AND YOU LIVED???

you: barely

you: i think i ascended actually

shoko: you’re telling me you were about to dip and then HE approached YOU????

you: he remembered me from the front row 😭

you: called me cute 😭😭

you: asked for my name 😭😭😭

you: CALLED ME SWEETHEART 😭😭😭😭

shoko: …girl.

shoko: i don’t wanna be dramatic

shoko: but i might start planning your wedding

you: pls help i’m still outside the venue trying not to combust

you: he said he’d see me again if i came to the next gig

you: SHOKO WHAT IF I GO TO EVERY GIG UNTIL I DIE

shoko: yeah bestie we’re in our groupie era now

You show up a whole forty minutes before the doors even open—Shoko said she’d meet you later, but you’re already leaning against the building like a total loser. Or an over zealous fan. Same thing, really.

You're debating if you should take a walk to kill time when the door swings open, and out steps him. Black button-up, sleeves rolled up again, a few buttons undone, and that familiar purple eyeshadow hugging his tired eyes. His lip quirks up the second he sees you.

“Excited to see me?” he asks, cocking his head as he strolls over. His voice is low, teasing—but not unkind.

Your face goes up in flames. “What—n-no. I mean yes. I mean—Shoko said she’d meet me later and I didn’t wanna be late, obviously.”

He hums, clearly amused. “Mhm. Obnoxiously early, huh?”

“Fashionably early,” you grumble, and he laughs, like you’re the most entertaining thing he’s heard all day.

Then he nods his head toward the door. “C’mon. I’ll introduce you to the guys.”

You blink. Wait. Right now??

You glance down at your outfit—cute enough for the gig, maybe not cute enough to meet him again, let alone his entire band. But he’s already walking, and you’re a fool if you don’t follow.

The door creaks open, and you’re hit with the low hum of conversation, faint music playing from someone’s phone, and the scent of sweat and cologne. Your heart’s going a mile a minute.

“Yo,” Choso calls, and two heads turn.

The tall white-haired man draped across the couch offers a lazy grin. “Oh? Who’s this?”

Choso leans against the doorframe and jerks a thumb toward you. “She’s the one I was talking about.”

Your eyes widen. Talking about?? Since when???

“Ooooh,” the other guy drawls from where he’s fiddling with a drumstick, hair tied back and gaze sharp as ever. “So this is her.”

“Shut up,” Choso mutters, but there’s a hint of pink dusting his ears. He looks back at you, eyes soft. “That’s Satoru—he never shuts up. And that’s Suguru. Don’t let him fool you—he’s worse.”

“Lies and slander,” Satoru says with a wink.

You’re frozen. Do you wave? Speak? Die on the spot?

“Hi,” you say, awkwardly.

Suguru offers a small nod. “Nice to finally meet you.”

Finally???

Satoru leans forward with a devilish grin. “Choso wouldn’t shut up about you, y’know?”

Choso visibly tenses. “Go bother someone else.”

But it’s too late—you’re already flushed to your ears, and Satoru’s howling with laughter.

“You’re cute,” he tells you. “You can stick around.”

You glance at Choso, and he gives you the smallest smile. Like you belong here.

And for the first time—you think maybe you do.

He walks ahead a bit, glancing over his shoulder as he gestures toward the sound booth. “That’s Nao, our sound tech. She’s the only reason we don’t sound like trash onstage.”

Nao waves without looking up from her monitor, and you awkwardly lift a hand back. Choso chuckles under his breath.

He keeps going, showing you the light setup, where they stash backup guitars, even the vending machine he’s pretty sure is haunted. Every person you pass gives you that look—oh, so this is the girl.

Your fingers twist nervously around the strap of your bag. It’s not like they’re being unfriendly. If anything, everyone’s nice. Welcoming, even. But still—you can’t shake the nerves bubbling in your chest.

You feel his gaze before you hear his voice.

“Nervous?” he asks, quiet and low.

You blink up at him. He’s standing close now, one hand tucked into the pocket of his jacket, watching you like he’s not sure if he’s scaring you or if you’re just shy.

You swallow. “A little.”

His mouth twitches—almost a smile. “You don’t have to be. Everyone’s chill.”

You nod, but you know the tension is still written all over your face.

And then—he reaches out. Just a light touch to your wrist. “Hey. I asked you here ‘cause I wanted you to come. Not to freak you out.”

His voice is soft now, just for you.

You manage a sheepish smile. “Sorry. It’s just… new.”

He shrugs, lips curling slightly. “Yeah. But I’m not that scary, right?”

You meet his eyes, and the look he gives you—teasing but warm—makes your stomach flip.

“…Not yet,” you murmur.

And he laughs, head tilted back like you just said the funniest thing all night. “You’re cute.”

Great. Now you’re even more nervous.

He walks you over to the stage setup, lights dim and moody, the buzz of crew members in the background. The instruments are neatly arranged—drum kits, amps, tangled cords, and at the center, his guitar resting on its stand.

He picks it up effortlessly, letting the strap fall over his shoulder. His fingers settle over the strings, and he begins to strum, absentmindedly. It’s not even a real song, just soft notes—but it’s hypnotizing.

Especially the way his fingers move. Long, slender, practiced.

You're staring. Absolutely entranced.

“Wanna try playing?” he asks suddenly.

You snap out of it so fast it’s embarrassing. “H-huh?”

He chuckles, soft and low. “Bit distracted there, sweetheart. You okay?”

“I’m good. Mhm.” You nod a little too quickly, plastering on a tight smile as your face warms. You hope he doesn’t notice, but that knowing glint in his eyes tells you otherwise.

He steps toward you with the guitar, offering it out with a slight tilt of his head. “Here.”

Your hands hover uncertainly. “O-oh… I don’t know how to play.”

He just smiles. “It’s alright, I’ll help you.”

He walks behind you, close enough that you feel the warmth of him at your back. You swear your heart skips a beat when his arms slip around you, guiding yours. He’s gentle as he places your left hand along the neck of the guitar, adjusting your fingers over the frets, his hand covering yours.

“Just relax,” he murmurs, voice right by your ear.

Your breath hitches.

“Shit—sorry, too close?” he asks quickly, voice laced with concern.

“N-no! It’s fine! Totally fine.” You somehow manage to stand upright.

He smiles again, that soft kind of amused. “Alright, just press here... yeah, that’s it.” He places your fingers on the strings. “Now, strum with this hand—lightly. Let the strings breathe.”

You try, hesitantly dragging your fingers down the strings. A clumsy note sounds out.

Choso hums. “Not bad. Now, try a G chord—here, like this.” His fingers mold yours again, warm and careful.

You nod, barely able to think with him this close, and repeat the motion. It sounds... slightly better.

“See?” he says, praising you with a smile in his voice. “Fast learner.”

You glance up at him over your shoulder, heart fluttering. “Maybe I just have a good teacher.”

His lips quirk, and he looks at you like you’ve just made his night.

“Well,” he says, “I am good with my hands.”

Your brain short-circuits.

He grins when he hears that soft, breathy little sound escape your lips.

“O-oh,” you stammer, eyes wide as you blink up at him.

His smile deepens, all teasing and low charm. “Didn’t mean to make you nervous,” he says, though he definitely did.

You open your mouth to say something—anything—but your brain’s gone completely blank. The only thing in your head is him. His voice, his scent, the low buzz of his guitar still humming in your hands.

“I—uh, yeah. No. You’re doing great. I mean—I’m doing great. I mean—thank you.”

He laughs. Not mockingly—it's soft, sweet, like he finds you genuinely adorable.

“You’re cute when you get flustered,” he says, voice quiet.

You look down at the guitar in your hands, pretending very hard to be focused on the strings.

“Maybe we’ll get you to play a whole song next time.”

You blink. “Next time?”

He shrugs casually, stepping back just enough to make you miss his warmth. “If you’re coming to the next gig, I figured I’d see you again.”

And then, with the most casual confidence, he adds, “You wanna?”

You blink up at him, heart still pounding from the way he practically wrapped himself around you moments ago. But then—somehow—you find your footing, just enough to muster a sliver of confidence.

You clear your throat, giving him a lopsided little smile. “Let’s see how this one goes first.”

His brows shoot up, clearly amused. “Is that a challenge?”

You shrug, trying not to melt under his gaze. “Depends. You think you can handle it?”

Choso laughs—a low, warm sound that vibrates in your chest more than your ears. He leans in again, just a little, his face dangerously close to yours. “Sweetheart,” he says, voice like silk, “I know I can.”

The crowd is thicker than last time. Hazy neon lights wash the walls in streaks of violet and red, and the room thrums with anticipation. You can feel the energy buzzing through your fingertips, your legs bouncing where you sit off to the side of the stage.

Choso catches your eye just before stepping on. He’s dressed in that same loose black button-up—top few buttons undone, sleeves rolled to the elbows, tattoos stark against his pale skin. His eyes are lined in that soft purple hue again, hair falling wild to his neck, and yet he somehow looks composed. Grounded. Like he was born to be here.

He doesn’t say anything, just gives you a look—half smirk, half something softer—and it sends butterflies flurrying in your chest.

And then: the lights dim. The crowd erupts. The band takes the stage.

Suguru on drums, flashing a grin at the front row before twirling his sticks and slamming into the first beat like a force of nature. Satoru struts forward, mic in hand, already oozing charisma, and Choso—Choso slides into position with his bass like it’s a part of him. One hand gripping the neck, the other plucking strings with a lazy, practiced ease.

The sound hits you like a wave. Loud. Gritty. Addictive.

But even as the music drowns everything out, your eyes stay locked on him.

Choso doesn’t look at the crowd. Doesn’t need to. He’s in his own world—eyes half-lidded, lips parted, swaying with the rhythm like the bass is leading him. And yet, somehow, he still finds a way to glance at you.

Just for a second. A flicker of a smirk.

And that’s when you realize it.

He’s playing for them—but looking at you.

And that smolder in his gaze? That spark that coils low in your belly?

It’s all for you.

The crowd’s roars have faded, the lights are dimming, and you’re still standing there, heart racing. Choso’s walking off stage, sweat-slick and glowing, bass still strapped to his back, and the second his eyes find you he smiles. Soft. Lopsided. Like it’s just for you.

He weaves through the staff with ease, and before you can fully brace yourself, he’s in front of you, that same lazy smirk playing on his lips. “Didn’t think you’d actually stick around,” he teases, voice low, raspy from the set.

You roll your eyes, a little bashful. “Had to see if your fingers really lived up to the hype.”

His brows shoot up, surprised—and then he laughs. It’s deep and warm and it makes your stomach do flips. “Oh? And?”

You tilt your head, pretending to think. “I’m not sure yet. Might need a private performance to decide.”

And damn, now he’s the one blushing.

He blinks. Once. Twice. And then that lazy grin deepens into something more—something that makes your throat dry.

“A private performance, huh?” he echoes, slinging the bass off his shoulder, setting it down like he’s done this a thousand times before—cool, collected, practiced. “You planning to book me?”

You cross your arms, trying to look unbothered despite the heat crawling up your neck. “Maybe. Depends on your rates.”

He steps closer, just a little, enough to tilt his head down to look at you properly. His voice drops lower. “I charge in coffee. Late-night conversations. And the occasional secret.”

“Oh?” you arch a brow. “That’s expensive.”

He chuckles, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear. “You’re worth it.”

Pause.

Your heart skips. Literally skips.

And suddenly it’s too quiet. The post-show noise is just background hum now—muffled cheers, clinks of beer bottles, bandmates laughing somewhere behind you. But he’s looking at you like you’re the only person who matters in this moment. Like he wants to learn you.

So you try to deflect, half-teasing, “You say that to all the girls who hang around after shows?”

He hums, like he’s pretending to think. “No,” he says finally. “You’re the only one who stayed quiet the whole time. Just… watched.”

You blink, caught off guard. “Was it creepy?”

He shakes his head. “Nah. It was nice. Felt like you were listening to more than just the music.”

You weren’t. You were listening to him.

But you don’t say that. Instead, you glance away, pretending not to be swooning.

And then—

“Hey,” he says softly, nudging your chin with two fingers to bring your gaze back to his. “Wanna get outta here?”

Your breath hitches. “Huh?”

He smiles, easy and relaxed, eyes scanning your face like he’s memorizing it. “There’s this spot a few blocks from here—low lights, decent drinks, great fries. Thought maybe I could buy you one. A drink, not a fry,” he adds with a little chuckle.

Your heart is thudding so loudly you're sure he can hear it. “Are you… asking me out?”

He shrugs, casual but undeniably charming. “If I said yes, would you say no?”

You try to play it cool, crossing your arms even though your insides are a whole storm. “You planning to pull that whole mysterious musician act the whole time?”

He leans in just a bit, close enough for your noses to nearly brush. “Only if it gets me a second date.”

And just like that, you’re done for.

“...I guess I could go for a drink.”

His grin widens. “Good. I’ll grab my jacket.”

The bar he takes you to is tucked away on a quiet street, the kind of place you wouldn’t find unless someone told you about it. There’s warm yellow lighting, a soft hum of old-school music playing on the speakers, and barely anyone around. It’s intimate in a way that makes your skin feel warm before you’ve even taken a sip of your drink.

He lets you slide into the booth first, then settles in across from you. His hands rest on the table, rings catching the light, and you find your gaze drawn to them—again. Damn those fingers.

“I’m not used to people sticking around after shows,” he says, eyes not leaving yours.

“I’m not used to chasing after bassists,” you shoot back, lips twitching.

He smirks. “So I’m special, huh?”

You roll your eyes, but the smile you’re fighting wins. “Don’t let it get to your head.”

Your drinks come. He lets you steal a sip of his. You let him steal two of yours.

“What got you into music?” you ask after a while, resting your chin on your hand.

He leans back, gaze flickering up like he’s searching the ceiling for the answer. “My dad, actually. He taught me how to play. He was obsessed with rhythm—said it was the heart of everything.”

You nod slowly. “He still around?”

Choso shakes his head. “Nah. Been a while. But I think he’d get a kick out of seeing me like this.”

There’s a quiet between you, not awkward, just full. You sip your drink.

“What about you?” he asks. “What do you do when you’re not falling for mysterious musicians at dive bars?”

You raise a brow. “Who said I was falling?”

His lips curve. “Touché.”

You end up telling him more than you thought you would. About your work, your favorite food, even boring little details. But he listens like every word matters. Laughs when you least expect it. His foot nudges yours under the table halfway through the night, and it stays there.

Eventually, the lights get lower, and the bar empties out.

“Guess we closed the place down,” you say, glancing around.

Choso’s watching you with a soft look. “Wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

Your heart flutters. “Same place?”

He smiles, gaze never leaving yours. “Sure.”

The night doesn’t end there.

He insists on walking you home—no arguments, no jokes, just slips his hand into yours like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And you let him, fingers intertwining with his, warmth blooming in your chest. It’s a quiet walk, but not the awkward kind. It’s that gentle, late-night calm. Like the whole world slowed down just for the two of you.

And for once, he’s not the brooding bassist with sharp eyeliner and calloused fingers. He’s just Choso. A guy who likes the way your hand fits in his. A guy who lets out a soft chuckle when you shiver and instinctively step closer.

You reach your place too soon.

You stop at the doorstep, neither of you making a move. No one says anything. You should probably say something. Goodnight. Thanks. This was fun. But the words get caught somewhere in your throat.

He steps closer instead.

There’s a breath between you. Just one.

And then his lips are on yours—soft, almost hesitant, like he’s asking if this is okay. And you answer him by fisting the fabric of his shirt and pulling him in. His hand comes up to your cheek, holding you steady as he kisses you again. Still gentle. Still quiet. But it makes your head spin all the same.

When he finally pulls back, he stays close, forehead pressed lightly to yours.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

Your heart might’ve actually stopped.

You slam the door shut behind you, back pressed against it, heart pounding so hard you swear it echoes in your ribcage. You stare at your phone, wide-eyed, thumbs flying:

you: SHOKO

you: SHOKO I NEED YOU TO WAKE UP

you: THIS IS AN EMERGENCY

shoko: it’s literally 1am

shoko: you better be on fire

you: I KISSED HIM

shoko: what

shoko: WHO

shoko: WAIT

shoko: WAIT.

you: YES. HIM.

shoko: THE HOT GUITAR PLAYER???

you: CHOSO. YES. YES. YES

shoko: oh my god you’re so gone

you: HE WALKED ME HOME. HELD MY HAND. KISSED ME. I AM GONE GONE.

shoko: AAAAAAAAAAA

you: HE SAID ‘GOODNIGHT SWEETHEART’

shoko: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

you: I KNOW

You toss your phone onto the bed, face planting right after it, squealing into your pillow like a teenager all over again.

Because you kissed him. And he kissed you back. And you’re never sleeping tonight.

You’re lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. The room is quiet—too quiet. You’ve already scrolled through your entire feed twice, tried reading, even got up to make tea you didn’t drink.

Then your phone lights up.

Incoming call: Choso.

Your heart stutters.

You take a breath and answer. “…Hey.”

His voice is warm on the other end. “Hey. Did I wake you?”

You shake your head even though he can’t see. “No. Couldn’t sleep.”

“Same,” he says. “Kept thinking about you.”

Your breath catches. You pull the blanket tighter around yourself, like it might calm your racing heart.

There’s a small silence, but it’s not awkward. It’s soft. Comfortable. Like neither of you really wants to hang up.

He speaks again, voice a little lower. “You looked beautiful tonight.”

You try to play it off. “I put in effort. Didn’t want to show up looking like I did last time.”

“I liked that too,” he says. “But tonight you walked in and I forgot what the hell I was doing.”

You laugh, hiding your face in your pillow.

“I wish I could see you again right now,” he says.

“Me too.”

“Would it be too much if I said I kinda wanna fall asleep listening to you?”

Your stomach flips.

You whisper, “Then stay on the line.”

And you do—both of you quiet, just breathing, letting the silence say everything.

You're standing outside the bar, shifting on your feet, trying to act like you haven’t been checking your reflection in every window on the walk here.

This time, your outfit isn’t casual by accident. You planned it. Styled your hair just right. Even put on that gloss you save for special occasions.

You step inside and immediately spot him, leaning back against a booth like he owns the place, one arm slung lazily over the seat. His eyes lift—

—and damn.

They rake down your figure slowly, like he’s drinking you in. And when they return to your face, there’s the smallest upward curve to his lips.

“Someone dressed to impress,” he says, standing as you approach.

“Maybe,” you reply, coy. “You are the star of the show, after all.”

He laughs low in his throat, hand brushing the small of your back as he leans in close. “Nah,” he murmurs. “Tonight, it’s all about you.”

You sit together in the same booth. This time, there’s no ice to break. The tension simmers warm between you—his knee bumps yours under the table and doesn’t move away. His eyes flicker to your lips more than once.

“So,” you say, swirling your drink. “What happens after drinks, guitar boy?”

He smirks, elbow resting on the table as he leans closer. “Depends. You thinking of letting me kiss you again?”

You raise your brows. “You planning on asking?”

He tilts his head. “I could. But you didn’t seem to need much prompting last time.”

That earns him a playful nudge. And a flustered laugh.

He grins. "Take your time, sweetheart. I'm not going anywhere."

The jukebox crackles as the next track begins—slow, dreamy, sweet.

Like falling asleep in warm hands. Like the part in a romance film where everything softens.

Before you can even comment on the vibe shift, Choso is rising from the booth, hand extended toward you, palm up.

Your brows lift. “You serious?”

He just smiles. “C’mon. Dance with me.”

You hesitate—because, what? In a bar? With him?? But his fingers flex, waiting, and the way he’s looking at you makes it impossible to say no.

You slip your hand into his.

He pulls you gently to the dance floor. There’s no one else there—just you, him, and the slow rhythm bleeding from the speakers. His hands settle on your waist. Yours hover awkwardly before curling behind his neck.

You sway.

“I didn’t take you for a dancer,” you mumble, heart skipping when he twirls you suddenly.

He smirks. “I’m not.”

You laugh—loud and sweet and so damn happy. And when he catches you again, you don’t pull away. Instead, you melt into him, resting your head against his chest, feeling the soft thud of his heartbeat under the fabric of his shirt.

His hand traces slow circles on your back.

“This okay?” he murmurs.

You nod, nuzzling in closer. “Yeah… It’s perfect.”

He rests his chin lightly atop your head. And neither of you says another word.

Not when the song ends.

Not when the next one starts.

Because for that moment—it’s just the two of you, swaying under dim lights, held together by the sound of a love song.

You step outside into the night, your breath curling in pale puffs. The air is colder than before, wrapping around your bare arms like a whispered warning. You shiver.

Without a word, Choso shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders, tugging you into his side. His hand rests at your waist, warm and firm, grounding you.

For a while, you just stand there—side by side, quiet. The city buzzes in the distance, cars passing, streetlights humming.

You glance up at him, and he’s already looking at you. Hard.

Like he’s trying to memorize the slope of your jaw. The way the wind lifts your hair. The way your lips part just slightly when you breathe.

“What?” you ask, a soft laugh in your voice, raising an eyebrow.

He doesn’t answer immediately. Just wets his lips. His fingers flex against your hip.

“I just…” he starts, voice rough with restraint. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

You blink, heart thudding once. Twice.

The pause stretches.

“Yeah?” you murmur, leaning in a fraction. Teasing.

He nods once. Barely.

You smile—heart pounding in your throat. “So why don’t you?”

And that’s all it takes.

He cups your face with both hands, thumbs brushing the apples of your cheeks like you’re made of porcelain. And when his lips finally meet yours—it’s soft. Slow. Full of the tension he’s been carrying all night, unspooling between you in breathless silence.

His nose bumps yours. Your hands fist the front of his shirt again. Just like last time.

Only this time, you don’t stop at one kiss.

And when you finally pull away, he rests his forehead against yours, his voice low:

“You’re gonna ruin me, y’know that?”

You laugh, barely a whisper against his lips, breath mingling with his. “Then I guess I better make it worth your while.”

That gets a reaction.

His gaze darkens just slightly, lips twitching into the faintest smirk as his hands slide down from your cheeks, one settling at the nape of your neck while the other pulls you flush against him. “You trying to kill me, sweetheart?”

You don’t answer.

Because you’re already kissing him again.

This time it’s different.

Less hesitant.

More hungry.

Your fingers find his hair, tangling in the dark strands that fall just past his neck, tugging gently until he groans into your mouth. He kisses you deeper, like he’s starved, like he hasn’t been thinking about this since the first night he met you in the crowd, eyes wide and awe-struck.

His hand grips your waist, fingers digging in—not too hard, but enough to make your breath hitch.

You gasp, and he takes the opportunity to nip at your bottom lip, tongue flicking against it before pulling back just enough to breathe:

“You’re trouble.”

You blink up at him, dazed, lips kiss-swollen and heart racing. “You’re one to talk.”

And he laughs—low and breathy, pressing another quick kiss to your mouth like he can’t help himself.

“C’mon,” he murmurs. “Let me walk you home before I get any worse ideas.”

The walk back is quiet—but not the awkward kind. It’s heavy with something, charged with unspoken words and lingering touches. His fingers brush yours with every step, and each time it happens, your breath catches.

You swear he’s doing it on purpose.

But you don’t stop him.

The streetlights cast a soft glow on him, turning his features golden for a moment, then shadowed the next. He looks… different like this. Softer. Less like the untouchable bassist who had you practically drooling the first night, and more like someone you could fall for if you’re not careful.

You sneak a glance at him.

He’s already looking at you.

You look away fast, heart leaping, and he chuckles under his breath.

"Cold?" he asks, tugging you gently closer.

You nod, even though that’s not why you’re shaking.

His arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you into his side as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. Your head fits against him perfectly, and his hand rubs slow circles against your arm, warm and grounding.

“Still nervous?” he murmurs.

You laugh quietly. “Little bit.”

“Me too.”

You tilt your head to look at him, surprised. “Really?”

He nods. “You make me nervous.”

You’re about to say something—anything—but then you’ve reached your place.

And suddenly, you don’t want to go inside.

He stops in front of your door, letting you go with a reluctant sigh. His hand lingers on your arm for a second longer before falling away.

There’s a beat of silence.

Then he shoves his hands into his pockets and asks, “You gonna call me?”

You nod. “If you answer.”

He grins. “Always.”

You hesitate—just for a second—and then press a soft kiss to his cheek. It’s quick, but the way his breath hitches tells you it did the trick.

“Goodnight, Choso.”

And before he can pull you in again, before you can throw all common sense out the window and kiss him properly, you slip inside.

Heart pounding. Lips tingling.

You wake up with your heart still pounding.

And not because of a nightmare.

Nope. This was worse.

Because it was real.

You kissed Choso.

Again.

And not in a dreamlike, floaty, “this could be a maybe” kind of way. You kissed him after swaying in his arms like some romcom protagonist. You kissed him, and he kissed you back, and you felt your knees give just a little, and you definitely whimpered against his mouth like a fool.

You groan and roll onto your side, burying your face in your pillow.

You’re so doomed.

Your phone vibrates.

You blink and grab it, squinting at the screen.

choso: didn’t want to wake you but i just wanted to say

choso: thank you for last night

You freeze.

Sit up slowly.

Your heartbeat? Violent.

You tap out a reply, delete it, rewrite it, delete again. Finally, you just go with:

you: it was nothing :)

Immediately after sending it:

you: i’m being weird aren’t i ignore me please

And then:

you: but also don’t ignore me because i liked it and i like you and i’m going to stop talking now before i make it worse

Your phone is dangerously quiet for thirty seconds.

Then it buzzes again.

choso: you’re not being weird.

choso: you’re being adorable

choso: i like you too

choso: also… can i see you again tonight?

You shriek into your pillow.

And then type:

you: you better

You weren’t expecting it when he texted you earlier that day.

come to the studio. i want you to hear something.

Now here you are, walking through a narrow hallway that smells like cigarettes and worn leather, Choso’s voice telling the receptionist to let you in. He meets you at the door, hoodie on, hair loosely tied back, a pair of headphones slung around his neck.

“Hey,” he murmurs, eyes raking over you with a small smile tugging at his lips.

You smile back, brushing past him as he closes the door behind you. The studio is dimly lit, a warm orange hue cast by the LED strips lining the edges of the ceiling. There’s a worn-out couch in the corner, an empty coffee cup on the desk, and wires everywhere.

He leads you to a chair beside him. “Wrote something last night. Thought you might want to hear it.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Inspired by anything?”

He doesn’t say anything. Just gives you a look.

He clicks a few keys on his laptop, and music starts playing—slow, rich bass, soft drums, a melody that feels like it’s watching you breathe. Then lyrics—his voice, lower and raspier than usual.

And the words? They burn.

It’s about being unable to get someone off your mind. About how they haunt your quiet moments. About wanting something that feels dangerous and delicate at the same time.

When it ends, there’s a beat of silence.

“…You wrote that?” you ask.

Choso nods, slow. “All of it.”

“It’s…” Your voice catches. “It’s beautiful.”

He leans back, watching you carefully. “It’s about you. In case that wasn’t obvious.”

The room feels smaller. Hotter. You swallow.

You murmur, “I didn’t know I had that kind of effect on you.”

“You don’t,” he says, stepping closer. “You have more.”

He’s standing between your knees now. One hand on the armrest beside you. The other gently tilts your chin up.

“Can I kiss you again?”

You nod before your brain even catches up.

And then he does—slower this time. Like he’s savoring it. His lips slot against yours and the world blurs. His hand slips to your waist, drawing you closer, and you wrap your arms around his neck without thinking.

The music plays on in the background. But neither of you hears it.

His lips are warm against yours, stealing every thought from your head. One kiss turns into two, then three—deeper, slower, more intense. His hands settle on your waist, firm, grounding. You melt into him without thinking.

But then—between kisses, you manage a breathless whisper, lips brushing his as you speak.

“Choso, not here—there’s people around.”

His eyes open slowly, pupils blown wide. He glances around, then back at you, and that look in his eyes? It's trouble.

Without saying a word, he grabs your hand. “Come on.”

You barely catch your breath before he’s pulling you along, weaving past people, straight toward the exit. His grip doesn’t loosen, even when he’s fumbling for his keys. He unlocks his car in a rush and opens the passenger door for you before sliding into the driver’s seat himself.

The whole ride is charged—silent, save for the hum of the engine and the occasional stolen glance. He taps the steering wheel with his fingers, the ones that had just been ghosting over your skin minutes ago.

When he pulls into the parking lot of his building, he doesn’t waste time. Hands still locked with yours, he leads you upstairs, heart pounding just as fast as yours.

The second the door shuts behind you, he turns around—and everything finally snaps.

Choso doesn’t pounce. He doesn’t rush.

He leans against the door, just watching you. Taking you in like it’s the first time. His eyes roam your face, your lips—your heaving chest. There’s a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, like he’s trying not to smile.

“You sure?” he asks, voice low, husky.

You nod, breathless. “Yeah.”

That’s all it takes.

He pushes off the door slowly, strides over like a man with nowhere else to be. His hands find your waist, gentle at first, then firm. His head dips down, lips ghosting over your jaw, your cheek, your mouth—but he doesn’t kiss you yet.

“You look so pretty tonight,” he murmurs, voice thick with restraint.

His nose grazes your neck, and you shudder. Every place his breath touches feels like it’s burning.

“You always look pretty,” he adds, kissing just below your ear now. “But tonight?”

He sucks in a breath through his teeth, lips brushing lower.

“You’re killing me.”

Your hands find the hem of his hoodie, fingers twitching as you lift it up slowly—exposing the pale skin of his stomach inch by inch. He lets you, arms raised, letting the fabric slide off and onto the floor. The tattoos swirl over his chest, catching the soft glow of the apartment lights, and your fingers can’t help but trace them.

“Still nervous?” he asks, voice rougher now.

You shake your head. “No. Just… can’t believe this is real.”

Choso tilts your chin up, makes you look at him. His gaze is so intense it steals the breath from your lungs.

“It is,” he says. “And we’ve got all night.”

He kisses you again, this time softer, slower. No rush. Just lips moving against yours with quiet reverence, like he’s memorizing the shape of your mouth.

His hands stay on your waist, warm and steady, but you feel the way his thumbs are drawing lazy circles on your skin—like he’s trying to ground himself. Like he’s savoring the moment as much as you are.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He hums into the kiss, one hand sliding up your back, fingers curling into your hair.

The path to the bedroom is a blur.

You’re not sure how you get there—if he carries you, or if you walk, tangled up in each other, lips never parting for more than a breath.

The room is dim, lit only by the city lights bleeding through the blinds. It paints both of you in silver and shadow. Choso backs you toward the bed, and when your knees hit the edge, he pauses. Looks down at you like you’re something sacred.

You swallow, heart thundering. “Are you gonna keep staring or—”

“Shh.” He dips his head, kisses your neck, just under your jaw. “Let me take my time with you.”

You shiver. God, his voice—low, velvet, dangerous.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.”

He pushes you onto the bed and you bounce slightly on it. He’s crawling up your body, hands trailing along your sides, slipping beneath your shirt—fingertips so gentle it sends goosebumps across your skin. You raise your arms, let him take it off. He discards it carefully, almost reverently, and then he’s touching you again.

It’s not frantic. It’s worship.

The way he kisses down your chest, murmuring things you can’t even process. The way he handles you like he’s scared you’ll break. His mouth is everywhere—leaving warmth and wetness and little marks that’ll be there tomorrow. Proof that this happened. That he happened.

When his hands slip lower, and he finally asks, “Can I?”—you nod, breathless, and he grins, slow and sinful.

“Good,” he whispers. “Because I’m not stopping tonight.”

His touch starts soft. Teasing.

His fingers graze along your thigh, slipping under your skirt. Just the pad of one finger tracing your inner thigh, slow and unhurried, like he has all the time in the world to unravel you. He watches your reactions closely—every breath, every twitch, every clench of your thighs like it’s his favorite show.

“Already shaking,” he murmurs with a smirk, fingers drifting up higher, stopping just at the edge of your underwear. “And I’ve barely touched you.”

When he finally slips his hand beneath the fabric of your panties, his fingers are warm, his touch confident. He finds you wet—soaked—and he groans low in his throat.

“Fuck... all this for me?”

His middle finger drags through your folds, slow and deliberate, gathering everything, spreading it around before circling your clit—just barely touching it. It’s maddening.

“You’re already this worked up,” he breathes, leaning in to kiss your jaw. “What happens when I really start?”

He’s rushing to take your underwear off, almost ripping them in the process. Then—finally—he eases a finger inside.

It’s slow at first. Just one finger, shallow thrusts, curling up and stroking that spot inside you until your hips start chasing him, greedy for more. He watches your face the whole time, eats up every whimper.

“Choso… more,” you whisper, barely able to speak.

His eyes flick up, dark and hungry. “Yeah?” he murmurs. “You can take another?”

You nod, breathless.

He slides a second finger in—thicker, deeper. His palm presses against your clit as his fingers work inside you, curling just right, just enough pressure to make your back arch. His other hand grabs your thigh, keeps you open and steady as he builds a rhythm.

It’s obscene—the wet, messy sounds of his fingers fucking into you—but it only makes him grin.

“You hear that, sweetheart?” he says lowly.

You’re gasping now, clutching the sheets, legs shaking. He really is good with his hands.

“C’mon,” he whispers against your neck, tongue darting out to taste you. “Let go for me.”

And with one more curl, one more stroke—you do.

You come around his fingers, back arching, a moan ripped from your chest as he keeps moving through it, working you until you’re twitching, thighs trembling against him.

When he finally pulls his fingers out, he brings them to his lips.

“Tastes even better than I imagined,” he says, voice low and ruined.

He doesn’t give you a second to catch your breath.

The second those words leave his mouth, his gaze drops—hungry, wicked—and before you can ask what he’s doing, he’s already moving.

He’s moving down your body, settling between your legs, hands parting your thighs, spreading you wide open for him. You barely manage a gasp before his mouth is on you.

And fuck.

He licks a slow stripe from your entrance to your clit—moaning against you like he’s tasting something divine. His tongue is hot, wet, firm—flicking against your clit before flattening and dragging against it again. He’s not shy. He devours.

You twitch under him, gasping, and his grip on your thighs tightens.

“Stay still for me,” he murmurs against you, breath fanning over your soaked heat. “Let me eat, baby.”

And oh, does he eat.

He buries his face between your legs like he’s starved—lips and tongue and heat and mess, sucking your clit into his mouth, groaning when your fingers grab his hair and pull. His nose nudges your clit, the piercings in his ears cold against your thigh.

His hands slide under your ass, lifting your hips just right so he can get even deeper. His tongue fucks into you, messy and wet, before he pulls back to mouth at your clit again.

You’re a wreck—panting, eyes rolling back, legs trembling on either side of his head. He loves it. You can tell by the way he hums into you, nose buried in your folds, like every whimper out of you is a personal victory.

Your thighs start to close around his head—he lets them. Arms locking around your legs, holding you there like he wants to be suffocated. And with one more flick of his tongue—one more swirl, one more perfect pressure—

You cry out, hips jerking, thighs clenching, and he doesn’t stop. He works you through it, licking, kissing, groaning against your cunt like he’s drunk off you.

When your body finally slumps back against the mattress, dazed and spent, he pulls back just enough to look up at you.

His mouth glistens. His eyes are wrecked.

And he licks his lips.

“Sweetest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever tasted.”

Choso’s mouth is still hot against yours, the kiss messy and hungry, his tongue sliding over yours like he can’t get enough of the taste of you.

He unbuckles his belt, pushing his pants down along with his boxers, his girthy length slapping against his abdomen. Your mouth parts in a soft gasp at the sight of it. But you don't have time to marvel at it. His hands are already on your thighs, pushing them up—higher, higher—until you're folded in half in a mean mating press.

“Gonna keep you like this,” he murmurs, voice rough, chest heaving. “Wanna see your face while I fuck you.”

Your breath catches.

His hands hook behind your knees, holding them open as he shifts forward. The position has you completely laid out for him, helpless beneath the weight of his body. You feel his cock, thick and hard, dragging over your slick entrance—and then he pushes in, slow and deep.

You whimper—a sound torn from your throat, soft and wrecked, your back arching as he presses deeper.

Choso groans, low and guttural, head falling forward to rest against yours. His breath fans hot across your cheek, and you swear you can feel the tremble in his arms as he holds himself still—just for a second.

“F-fuck…” he breathes, voice rough with restraint. “You’re so fucking tight like this…”

His hips roll forward again, slower this time, the movement deliberate—like he wants you to feel every inch. “Feels like you’re made for me,” he murmurs, his voice barely more than a rasp.

Your fingers scramble across the expanse of his back, nails dragging, searching for something to ground you. His shoulders, his arms, anything—because the way he’s filling you, stretching you, it’s too much and not enough at the same time.

Then he starts to move. Deep. Steady. And the new angle is devastating.

He hits every spot just right, his cock dragging along your walls, slow and purposeful, grinding into the deepest parts of you with every thrust. Your legs tremble in his hold, pinned back and open for him, the pressure building with each stroke. Your jaw falls open, a moan slipping free—high-pitched and desperate.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

But it’s not pain. No—never that.

It’s overwhelming. It’s perfect. It’s him.

“You’re taking it so well,” he grits out, eyes burning into yours as his pace deepens. “Fuck—just like that, baby. Taking all of me.”

You blink up at him, dazed, lips parted as your moans spill freely. He leans down—closer, closer—until your thighs are nearly flush to your chest and his weight settles on top of you, heavy and grounding.

And he fucks you.

Not rough, but intentional—each stroke slow and deep, hips rolling so he never leaves you empty. He watches your face, watches every twitch of your brows, every flutter of your lashes. Like he’s trying to memorize it. All of it.

Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling when his thrusts grind just right. His name escapes you in a whimper—over and over, his name like a mantra.

“Choso—” you gasp. “Oh my God—Choso, I-I…”

“I know,” he whispers, forehead pressed to yours. “I know, baby. I’ve got you.”

You’re soaked—messy, slick dripping down your thighs, pooling where your bodies meet. The wet slap of skin on skin is loud in the room, underscored by the soft creak of the mattress and your broken cries.

He shifts, angling just so, and you shatter.

Your body seizes, nails digging into his back as your orgasm rips through you, sudden and all-consuming. A sob leaves your throat, your back arching as your walls flutter and clamp down around him.

With a low groan, he shifts—gently, carefully—his hands sliding beneath your thighs to lower them. You gasp softly when he wraps your legs around his waist, keeping you close, keeping you full, as his hips press flush to yours.

He groans—a raw, broken sound—his hips stuttering. “Shit—fuck, I’m close—where do you want it, sweetheart?”

You barely think. You just nod, desperate. “Inside—please—inside.”

That’s all he needs.

He presses in deep, body trembling, a shudder running through him as he spills into you, cock twitching with every pulse of his release. You feel the heat of it—so much, thick and warm as it fills you up. And still, he doesn’t stop.

He keeps moving—soft, shallow thrusts that drag it out, that make your body twitch and whimper, overstimulated and glowing.

His name slips from your lips again, quieter this time, your fingers trailing down his back, soothing over sweat-slick skin.

And then—finally—he stills.

Buried to the hilt. Breathing hard. Forehead pressed to your shoulder, lips ghosting over your collarbone.

“I’ve got you,” he says again, voice low and reverent.

His hands settle on your waist, thumbs stroking your skin like he’s grounding himself.

"Don’t want to let go just yet," he murmurs, voice rough with emotion and aftermath. He leans down, kissing your shoulder, your jaw, the corner of your mouth. “Feels too good like this.”

You hum, dazed and pliant, arms winding around his neck as your forehead rests against his. His weight, his warmth—it’s comforting. Heavy in the best way.

Every small shift makes you gasp—too sensitive, too raw—but you don’t ask him to move.

You don’t want him to either.

And neither does he.

So he stays there—buried deep, your legs locked around his waist, your bodies tangled as if they were always meant to be like this.

After, when the haze finally starts to fade, Choso is the first to move—but only just.

He brushes your hair from your face with slow fingers, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. “You okay?” he murmurs, voice low and full of concern. Gentle. So gentle. “Was that… too much?”

You shake your head, barely able to speak as you whisper, “No. It was perfect.”

He exhales, and the breath sounds like relief. Like he needed to hear that.

Without a word, he slips out of bed, grabbing a warm cloth and returning to you. He moves with such care—his hands slow, wiping between your thighs with reverence, like you’re something precious. You flinch a little at the sensitivity, and he mumbles a soft “Sorry” as he presses a kiss to your knee, his gaze flickering up to check on you again.

Once you’re clean, he tosses the cloth aside and crawls back under the covers. You instinctively curl into him, and he opens his arms wide, pulling you in, tucking your head beneath his chin.

His fingers trace slow, lazy circles along your spine. Your legs are tangled with his, your body warm and sore and safe. He smells like sweat and sex and his cologne, and you want to fall asleep in this exact moment, forever.

“You’re amazing,” he murmurs against your hair.

You blink up at him. “That’s my line.”

He smiles, barely-there but so real. “Guess we’ll take turns.”

You laugh—quiet, muffled against his chest—and he hums along with it, fingers still moving along your back.

A silence settles between you, but it isn’t awkward. It’s peaceful. The kind that only comes after letting someone see you bare in every way.

He breaks it eventually, voice thick with sleep. “You staying over?”

“Mhm.”

“You sure?”

You nod, eyes fluttering closed. “Wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else.”

And neither would he.

So he kisses the top of your head one more time, murmurs something soft and unintelligible against your skin, and lets himself fall asleep with you in his arms.

Exactly where you both want to be.

author's note. this is just pure choso brainrot because i could not get that fanart out of my head so ofc i had to write something about it. (choso girlies, i'm borrowing your man for a while, thank you)

please do not steal, modify or translate my work.

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askssgenerations · 2 months ago

Text

[ASKS ARE OPEN]

Current Asks: ~130

I’ll do my best to answer all of the questions! But please note I might pick and choose depending on what’s best for the story!! Don’t worry if I haven’t done yours yet, I’ll circle back to try and hit everything eventually!

—————

[START HERE]

[Playlist]

Welcome to S.S. Generations! Where 2 weeks after the events of the Eclipse Cannon, Sonic and Shadow fall into a new dimension called “White Space”. They also meet their counterparts from various dimensions. Follow them as they all search for a way out!

However, those who’ve been to White Space before are questioning why it’s so empty. It’s almost entirely blank, with no past, present, or future events to ground them. How are they going to get out if there’s no memories to go off of?

—————

Meet The Cast!

Sonic’s Version

Cont. ⤵️

Frontiers -> Cyber

- Doesn’t have a Shadow counter-part

- Pretty quiet and keeps to himself, which is pretty weird for a Sonic(?)

- Has strange cyber-related powers, possibly related to his glitchy appearance

- Seems to be in pain, but waves off any concern

Sonic X Shadow Generations

Modern -> Guide

- Calls himself everyone’s guide through White Space

- Still petty about having his birthday party interrupted, teases his Shadow to do stuff for him because he’s still the ‘birthday boy’

- Very laid back due to the peacefulness compared to the last time he was in White Space

Classic -> Mini-Me/Classic

- mostly follows around his older counterpart!

- doesn’t talk but is very content to zip around and show his feelings through body language

Movie -> Socks

- Once realizing everyone was giving themselves code names, he immediately went for Blue Justice. Or Speed, to reference his greatest strengths and one of the greatest movies ever made.

- Unfortunately, both ideas were shot down and he was dubbed Socks due to his lack of shoes compared to well, literally everyone else

- Is very, very glad to see his Shadow alive

Boom -> Blur

- Names himself after one of his brother’s old code names for him

- Very snarky compared to the others, and is the least concerned with getting home

- Noticeably on the worst terms with his Shadow

Prime -> Paradox/Prism

- Tried to get matching nicknames with his Shadow but was rejected

- Unlike the others, he thinks that he’s the ‘real’ Sonic and everyone else is a shatterverse version of him

—————

Shadow’s Version

SatBK -> Sir Lancelot

- He’s hiding something.

- Notices Cyber’s deteriorating condition the fastest

Sonic x Shadow Generations -> Prince

- On weirdly good terms with his Sonic

- Is it a part of growing up? Or something else

Movie -> Eclispe

- Socks had more names for Shadow than himself

- But all other options, like Hello/Emo Kitty, Akira, Tokyo Drift, National Treasure, etc. were vetoed

- Shadow settles on Eclipse, to remind himself of his past decisions and their consequences

Boom -> Grumpy

- asshole

- Calls himself ‘Ultimate’ but dubbed Grumpy by the majority

- Very very quick to throw down with Blur, in all ways possible

Prime -> Shards/Shatterverse

- Has the same mindset as Paradox/Prism with 10x the paranoia

- Incredibly weary of their counterparts, especially after the incident with Nine

- Stays nearby Paradox/Prism at all times and is searching the hardest for a way to escape

—————

Thanks for reading!! Potentially more characters to come but that’s the cast as of right now! Any asks/suggestions are welcomed!!

Note: this will probably have shipping!! be warned if that’s not your cup of tea!

#sonic movie 3 #movie sonic #sonic #sth #sth fanart #movie shadow #sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #sonic x shadow generations #sonadow #shadonic #shadic #sonic frontiers #satbk sir lancelot #sonic boom #sonic prime #sonic ask blog #ask blog

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misslovasstuff · 1 year ago

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Prompt: When you tell them you’re in the mood

content: how do they react? Are they sweet and all? mhmmm.... warning: contains nsfw paired with: Sanji, Law and Sabo author’s note: pretty blonds and an emo boy sheeeesh

please, support me here if possible: ko-fi

Sanji

It’s not a new occurrence that you find yourself in Sanji’s arms, being saved from an enemy’s attack. However today, perhaps because you’re completely conscious, your wondering eyes stare at your dangerously handsome rescuer;

His shirt had undone buttons, revealing a part of his bare chest along with his collarbone. His hair fell partly on his face but never aimed to cover his neck: fit and wide, dripping a bit in sweat. Pretty lips remain open as he gasps for air. Sanji keeps a tight grip on your shoulder and thigh as he carries you in his arms, eyes analysing and scanning where you two could hide for a moment.

“Damn it!” - he unleashes his tie aggressively, his anger evident from people chasing the both of you.

You knew… goodness of course you knew this could never be a good time but; Sanji is so fucking hot right now. Irresistible hot. And this anger he portrays from time to time it turns you on instantly, no matter how embarrassing it is to admit.

“Sanji…”- you reach for his collar, pulling it down so he could lean in closer to your face. Those blue eyes of his looking at you so innocently and worriedly, changing completely from the intensity they were holding just a second ago.

He hums in response, attentively listening to what you had to say.

“I’m in the mood.” - your voice low and needy makes the blond blush immediately. He widens his eyes and shakes his head with a smile. Did he hear that right or was it his imagination?

“Sweetheart, how could you possibly be turned on in this situati-

Sanji gazes down at you pressing your chest against his, a view that always makes him weak in the knees. You place your hand at his which is grabbing your thigh, pressing it even further into your flesh. Then you slide it swiftly at your ass whilst dragging your lips on his neck.

“Fuck, - it didn’t take long for Sanji to make a decision. he cusses, stopping almost immediately to look at the surroundings in an even bigger hurry. He runs with you in his arms until he finds an alley where he was certain you wouldn’t be found. He takes one last turn while changing the position he was holding your precious body that he would punish anyone if they even left a small scar on your golden skin. You smile at how quick your man was to react to your needs and obviously at some point, his too.

Now your hands are over his shoulders, front body pressed agasint his as his hands are holding you from behind. Just like that, he pushes you agasint the wall, breathing heavily. Your lips clash with his into a passionate, hungry, soul-sucking kiss as your hands caress the back of his neck. You moan in his mouth when Sanji takes a better hold of your legs, pushing his lower body closer to you.

“Promised to be always on your rescue, didn’t I, love?” - you breath for air as Sanji grabs your ass and slaps it, biting your ear as he whispers:

“Such a naughty girl to get turned on like this, telling me such lewd things in the middle of the battle- his breath tingles your neck and you tighten the grip you have on his shoulders. - i see you wanted another kind of saving.”

Law

“There are things I want to do and say to you…”

Law furrows his eyebrows, not really getting where you’re coming from, however it does not take him long to notice your body language and how you are obviously in the heat.

“Hm. Is that so? Can you be more specific?” - it was so obvious now that he wanted to tease you, make you say those needy words to him face to face. You didn’t want to give him that satisfaction, however your desire is bigger than your pride right now.

“I’m… im in the mood, Law.” - you confess, looking down and shutting our eyes close due to the embarrassment.

As you are, you feel a warm hand around your waist pulling you closer.

“Cute. - he says with a cheeky smile, lowering his head to face you up close. - thats why you came to see me?”

You nod and he gives you that satisfying smirk that had become a weakness of yours. His eyes sparkle in a different way now as his gaze is fixated on yours. After a brief moment of silence, Law caresses your shoulder with his hand as he approaches and whispers in your ear:

“You and I, at the back deck, now.”

It’s hard to say no to that low voice that sent shivers down your body and that warm hand which has grabbed yours, guiding you exactly where he wants. Law sits down on a chair, his expression unreadable.

“Sit.” - he demands and you swallow hard, sitting on his thigh. Your hands travel to his bare chest, hesitating to caress it. Law grabs your hand, kissing it and pressing it agasint his heart.

“Smart girl, - he gazes down your legs and the pretty skirt you’re wearing. His curious hands soon figure out that that pretty skirt is all you’re wearing down there. - very smart.”

“Law…” - your voice shakes when you call him, feeling his hand going lower and lower your body.

“Quiet now…”- His fingers tease your entrance, rubbing your lips up and down while you moan in his ear.

“Is this what you were in the mood for?” - he asks with a cheeky grin.

“I… - you shyly hide your face in the nape of his neck. - …yes.”

His fingers were doing for you what all other men couldn’t, getting you on edge.

“More… more…” - you manage to blurt out, grabbing onto his hair and pulling them slightly. Law sucks his teeth in, letting out a cheeky laugh.

“You want more? - his fingers are now inside you, pumping in and out at an agonising low speed. He is not only fucking you physically but mentally as well with this much teasing.

“You’re quite the sadist for a doctor.” - you exclaim, riding his fingers as your hips start moving on their own.

“I tend to fit in with my patient’s needs.” - he cups your cheek with his other hand, pulling you in. - Let me take care of all your needs.”

Law kisses you gently, biting your lower lip as the pace of his fingers fastens.

“What…were the things you wanted to tell me…?”- the air is so hot and you’re both breathing heavily. Yet you manage to give a reply to the man who’s making you lose your mind with his fingers only.

“I… wanted to tell you that I … you… you are always in my mind and lately I just… couldn’t stop thinking of you doing… unspeakable things to me…” - your moans get louder as Law takes a strong grip on your hip.

“Ah, if we’re confessing then, I wanted to do this with you too, for a while now.” - he claims, pulling you closer and dragging his lips on your shoulder.

“You want to…do those unspeakable things to me?”- you ask, smirking while trying to catch your breath.

“You were such a good girl for telling me you were in the mood so I’ll do any position you have been fantasising about. You won yourself an all night-fucking and trust me, you won’t be speaking much, your mouth will be occupied with other things.”

Sabo

“Something is off about you tonight, isn’t it?” - the blond asks, titling his head to meet your eyes but you avoid his gaze.

“What makes you say that?” - his scent overwhelms your senses, making your mind foggy but yet you remain somehow composed.

“Well for starters, - Sabo paces forward and stops in front of you. - You’ve been avoiding your boyfriend all day. Even now you’re going to who knows where.”

He grabs your chin, glancing shortly at your lips then at your eyes.

“Beautiful…- he whispers, getting lost in your gaze for a moment before continuing. - You are completely red in the face.”

Sabo strikes your cheek gently with the back of his hand. Your quick blinking and lip bite hits the bells on his head. Surely, you would have not been needy and not tell him about it, right?

“Look at me. - he demands, putting strands of hair behind your ear, his voice low and breathy. He tries not to surrender to your pretty gaze so he swallows hard, Sabo himself turning a bit red at the thought of what you could possibly want from him. - tell me what you’re feeling right now.”

He brushes off the hair off your shoulder, placing small gentle kisses there.

“Tell me… - his breath hits your skin and sends shivers down your spine.

“Sabo, - you answer with a shaky voice, almost letting out a moan when he pulls you in by your waist with one hand, continuing kissing your neck ever so softly. - I’ve been so needy the whole day. I’m in the mood for us to-

A bite on the nape of your neck makes you leave out a gasp, grabbing onto your lover’s arms as he begins unbuttoning your shirt.

“What were you thinking not telling me, huh? - his hand now gropes your chest, making you unable to answer properly. You wanted to tell him that there shouldn’t have been any distractions for his work so you just, stayed away. - Fuck, baby I’m so sorry for not noticing. But if it helps, I’m always needy of you, like all the time.”

You chuckle, pushing your head backwards as Sabo conquers your chest with kisses, bites and so many powerful sensations all while holding you close to him.

“Must be hard then?”- you ask, referring to what he just said but your boyfriend looks down on himself and then smirks at you.

“Ooff, it’s just what you do to me, sweetheart. Take pride in that. Just you saying you want me gets my being completely under your control.”

The stare he has on you becimes irresistible, pulling him in a kiss as your hand reaches the belt of his pants.

“I want you, Sabo.” - he whimpers, watching every action of yours.

“Oh, if you talk to me like that, - Sabo hovers over you, stripping his clothes off. - I’m going to make it up for a whole day lack of fucking.”

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mclager · 4 months ago

Text

Three | Reader X Carlos Sainz X Rebecca Donaldson

really short, I just needed to deal with this idea before I combust, but it was made with love ❤️

English is not my first language

Warnings: online bs, haters

Face claim: Anne-Marie

Imrebeccad

Imrebeccad Weekend with mine truly 🤍

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Carlossainz55 Guapas!! Liked by the author ❤️

Ynishere The 😝 duo is here!

User2 The way she puts her bestie first is iconic

User6 bros before hoes!!!!!!

User9 can we talk about how y/n looks like Rebecca and Carlos emo daughter?

→ ynishere @/carlossainz55 @/imrebeccad they're calling you both old!

→ user9 I'M NOT

→ carlossainz55 @/ynishere you're too young!

→ ynishere I'M 5 YEARS YOUNGER THAN YOU THAT'S NOT MUCH

User14 Carlos comment tho 😐

ynishere

Ynishere Pretty women only 🙏🏼

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Imrebeccad I love you, pretty! ❤️😝

→ ynishere love you too, bella! 🧡😝

Carlossainz55 Hermosas de mi corazón Liked by the author & imrebeccad

User8 if I was Rebecca I would be screaming and crying with Carlos comments on yn's posts, like what does he mean BEAUTIFUL OF MY HEART? No, please kill me already

User3 literally a family

User22 the only place yn is not giving emo is the beach

→ ynishere Forgive me father for I have sin 🙏🏼🙏🏼

Landonorris Carlos in the back, thinking about how he managed to the girl

→ ynishere I also got the girl!

→ landonorris and the boy this comment was deleted by the author

Carlossainz55

Carlossainz55 Great company ❤️

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User44 nuh uh! This is weird as shit! If Carlos is not cheating, he definitely wants to!

imrebeccad My favourite company, my two favourite persons in the entire world!

User66 everyone is dressed so nice and yn is in a hoodie... How did Carlos choose to cheat on Rebecca WITH HER?

Ynishere Maybe I do look like the weird daughter...

→ imrebeccad don't fuel the daughter allegations!

→ carlossainz55 I'm not old enough to be your father, please, stop

→ ynishere you two are boring...

User56 ok Rebecca, love, she WANTS YOUR MAN!

Landonorris Lucky man

User86 100% not emo any more

Imrebeccad posted a story

ynishere

Thnks fr th Mmrs - Fall Out Boys

Ynishere Carlos real reaction to the first pic, like 100% real! No clickbait ❌

(got tired of high heels, never again)

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User76 I don't know who's more of a whore around here

User49 Since when this became a whore house?!

Imrebeccad Nice job with the censoring!

→ ynishere thank you!

User98 So Rebecca is the whore, but Carlos what in...

User44 the girl befriended Rebecca just to try to end her relationship, SUCH A BITCH

carlossainz55 caught in 4K as you might say

→ ynishere glad you know

The comments are now limited

Carlossainz55 and imrebeccad

Carlossainz55 I wasn't supposed to post this, so I'll deal with the consequences of this later, but I have something to tell you guys. I've been seen so many shitty comments on yn's posts, calling her all sort of names that doesn't describe her in the least! She is the most caring, loving, funny, energetic, talkative person I ever met. Everything Rebecca and I can say are good things, and see people that don't know her at all talking shit gives me a headache. Yn say she doesn't care because it is not true, but I know she cares, so I came here to straight things up, I'm not cheating on anyone, Rebecca neither, we're just three people that love each other, and will keep loving each other till death, you liking it or not. Please be respectful with the two girls that I love, they don't deserve all this bullshit.

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Ynishere I'm too punk rock, I can't cry!

→ imrebeccad she is in fact crying

Ynishere I love you two so much!!!

User4 oh

User66 didn't expect this one

Landonorris Is the Spanish accent, isn't it?

→ ynishere yes

→ imrebeccad it helps

Charlesleclerc FINALLY JESUS CHRIST

Scuderiaferarri PR will contact you soon they're currently crying and shipping the new throuple (can't blame them) and @/Williamsracing good luck next year

→ Williamsracing We're READY! Blue will suit you well @/ynishere

→ ynishere @/Williamsracing I love you already 💙

Imrebeccad my two true loves ❤️

Danielricciardo ok, why all the juicy stuff happens after I got out?

#carlos sainz x reader #rebecca donaldson #carlos sainz x reader x rebecca donaldson #f1 x reader #f1 social media au #poly! f1 #poly!f1

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the-moons-tears · 5 months ago

Text

Scaramouche x reader (Spiderman au)

GUYS GUYS SPIDER-MAN SCARA BRAINROT EIFJEJDCKKEFM gods i CANT

Hot emo spider boy grrr

Not very spicy (a bit at the end) this is pretty much just a plot that I enjoyed writing about

Preview:

"all you have to do is keep your pretty eyes open, and try not to fall behind."

Blues, greens, whites, and reds zoomed by the eye coverings on your mask. Noises from the city and its traffic flared up in your ears and ended as soon as they came. The sharp wind whipping your hair around, and the feeling of your suit moving with your body made you feel alive.

Your hands moved methodically in a pull up, release, and shoot cycle. The strong webbing that was naturally formed in your body shot out through a tiny slit in your wrist, and the cut in your suit fabric made it easy to shoot out of.

The ground seemed so far away every time you launched yourself up into the night air, but became almost touchable when you let gravity take you back down. Your lungs took in large amounts of air and released heavily through the mask fabric.

When you arrived at a certain large skyscraper, you began your ascent. The webbing that flew out hit the glass panels which you used to propel you upwards. The noises from the city below grew quieter as you neared the top roof with the internet tower sitting in the middle.

Your hand grasped the edge of the building and used your upward force to swing over the ledge onto the roof surface. Standing upright, the wind hit you and blew your hair away from your face showing you the view that you never got tired of. The city looked so small from there. Leaning over where you just came from, this was definitely the tallest building in your city.

Planes overhead made their presence known by the blinking lights that were flashing from their bodies. Above them lay the stars, although you couldn't see them because of the light pollution. The silence, even though so many things were happening, was always strange. It just showed how high up you were. The wind was your only company with its occasional howl coming from any direction.

Although, your solitude didn't last long. A cold sensation ran down your spine and an instinctual alert inside your mind told you something was coming. A figure, black as the night above came so fast at you, you didn't have time to react.

In a tangle of arms and at the speed of the impact, you and the figure crashed into the part of the roof that led to stairs to the floors below. A loud grunt came from the figure beside you when their head hit the wall.

Your own body had slammed into the stone pretty hard. Obviously it was much worse for you since the impact sent you into the wall first. A strangled gasp for air escaped your lungs after it had been knocked out and you fell to your side with your vision spinning. Rough hands turned you over, ripped off your mask from your face, and grabbed you over your mouth. The other hand held your shoulder to the ground.

Above you, the figure, who you figured was a male, was breathing hard. The hand over your mouth gripped hard, and your attempts to speak failed. In your panic, you shot webbing onto his face with your free hand and kicked him back once you got a leg up from underneath him.

Immediately once you had enough free space, you made a dash for the edge so you could jump off. Alarms went off in your mind again, making you duck in time to see a web shooting overhead at what would have been your neck. The next one, however, you couldn't dodge in time.

White webbing caught your ribs and pulled you to the man again. Before you could blink, you were wrapped in web that was holding you in all directions. You couldn't move, and your mask that protected your identity lay away from you on the ground. When you finally were still, you could see clearly who he was.

Short violet hair moved in the wind revealing a black mask with purple and blue iridescent web looking designs interlacing it. The body suit also had the same design. The person's mask ended at their hairline, letting the bangs that were there fall over it. Everyone had seen him, he was quite famous although no one knew his real identity. The savior of teyvat city, spiderman.

He ran a hand through his hair rubbing the spot that hit the wall and let out a long sigh. "I really wanted an easy night tonight..." the man ran his hands down his face and walked toward you. Without gentleness, he grabbed you face again and tilted it how he pleased.

"What the hell-do you always treat people this way?"

"Well most people I come across that have any sort of power aren't exactly wishing the city a merry Christmas."

Fair. From what you had seen, every time he made an appearance was when a supernatural threat was in the city, like that one battle with a giant lizard you saw on YouTube. You'd seen what he was capable of, and that he probably didn't have any intention other than protecting the city, so you decided to be compliant.

For a bit, he was silent. He brought a hand up that had your webbing that was on his face on it, and his silver eyes on his mask narrowed.

"I watched you swing up here from a distance before attacking you. You shot this from your wrist."

"Yeah, I'm guessing you want a backstory?"

"Normally I wouldn't care, but your web is the same make as mine. It's not coincidental." He then waved his hand for you to speak.

You simplified the story as needed in your head, and begin to tell about your spider experience.

...

You were in college enjoying your student life when it happened. With your university being so close to ILDOTTORE Inc., a lot of students came to study in the sciences, you being one of them.

In one of your leisurely afternoons at the campus park, you were sitting on a bench just looking at the wind blow through the trees when you felt a sharp pain on your hand. The pain continued to spike when you pulled your hand up and shook it. Looking at your palm, sitting there was an iridescent spider that had its fangs lodged in your skin.

It looked abnormal for sure. Its eyes were bigger and it's legs were longer. A strange symbol was marked on its back, almost like an experimental number you would put on test subjects. Without a thought you immediately slapped the spider.

When it didn't come off the first hit, you took off your shoe and pressed it to your hand, not caring about the dirt because the bite hurt. When you got the spider off your hand, you relaxed thinking you'd definitely killed it.

Feeling something moving on your thigh, you looked down and jumped from your sitting position with your hand swatting at your thigh. The spider, with one less leg now, was crawling up your leg until you swat it off.

"Oh hell no, die hoe." You took the shoe that was still off and put it quickly back on your foot. As the spider was speeding away, you chased it a couple of steps from the bench and stomped on it like you'd never put your foot on the ground before. After twisting your foot back and forth on the spider, you took your shoe off an examined if it was really dead.

It twitched only once even though it was completely crushed, but that was enough to smush it again until you were only looking at a black smudge on the concrete path.

Ever since that day, you had to stay in your apartment with a sick excuse because of the changes your body was undergoing. The pain was blaring. Your hands would stick to things randomly, and your vision would shift from regular to being able to see through walls. You felt feather light, could move faster, and jump higher.

The strangest parts were the fact that you could shoot webbing from openings in your wrists, and that you would get a strange feeling when something was about to happen. Your reaction time had heightened and your body molded itself into being fitter.

After days of change and determining that the spider gave you those powers, you found ways to control your new abilities. You even made yourself a suit from your webbing. After school days, you would practice in a remote alleyway what all you could do. Swinging around and climbing walls wasn't as hard as you thought. Watching videos of Spider-Man's fights also gave you some tips on how to move well. You were around one month into your new experience before this incident.

...

"So that's where it went...And you made sure 100% that you killed the spider?"

"The only thing left was a blot on the ground. Pretty sure it's dead."

"Great. My two problems have been cut to one."

You wondered if the problem he was referring to was you and the spider. You were correct.

"So can you let me out now?" You wiggled the only movable thing your body, which was your hands. Spider-Man laughed sarcastically and stepped backwards to sit onto the edge of the building. The wind picked up swaying his hair, and his eye pieces on his mask moved in a gleeful expression that you knew had a teasing glint in them.

"Nah, you can get out yourself. You're the same as me right?"

The same? You huffed and looked around you spotting the places his web connected to other structures that held you in place. Angling your hands in the direction of the connection, you shot a web and held on to the end. Your web connected to the place his was stuck on and you pulled with your hand as far away as you could.

His web snapped off, letting one arm loose. From there you broke yourself free from all the webbing. Walking with your back turned to him, you picked your mask up off the ground, moved your hair out of your face, and put it back on.

Suddenly, you felt a web come in contact with your back. Turning around, you saw that spiderman wasn't there anymore. A long web was quickly sliding down off the edge, and you noticed too late that the web was connected to you.

With a scream, you were yanked forward and launched off the building. Looking down, you spotted Spider-Man diving down with the web that held you in one of his hands. When his fall had reached around half of the buildings height, we shot a web from his free hand and began a swing.

"You better shoot a web, I'm gonna let go!" Although most of his words got lost in the wind, you got the message. As soon as you shot a string, the web on your back became loose. You quickly yanked it off your back and swung with your other hand to catch up to him.

You synced up your swing timing to match his, but as soon as you did he changed direction. you caught up to him stopping on a building top where he hung off the side waiting for you.

"You're slow." Indigo hair blew in the wind and his head tilted. His arm hung out in the wind beside him while he held onto the edge with his other.

"Well maybe I would have caught up faster if someone didn't pull me off the tallest building in the city. Secondly, I'm still knew to this whole thing." You landed a bit below him with a web holding you to the building. The man above you laughed and spoke in a haughty tone,

"all you have to do is keep your pretty eyes open, and try not to fall behind." His hand left the edge letting gravity take him. Diving after him, you followed him through narrow alleyways and under highways. It was hard to see him because his suit was so dark, but the iridescent colors on his chest guided you.

You didn't know why you were following him, or better yet why he was indirectly telling you to. Chasing him around in sporadic movements soon became easier. It almost felt like he was training you.

At one point, he disappeared from your vision. Coming to a stop in a dark street where no cars were coming, you looked around. A sharp zing went off in your head, making you turn around in time to see a web come in contact with your face. The mask attached came off and your hand shot up to cover your face.

"Hey! You don't know who's around here, and there may be cameras in this area!" You yelled out in the direction the web came from with your hands over your whole face.

"If you can't block a simple thing like that, and by the way that wasn't even an attack, you're not going to survive fights or the media." A sultry voice spoke near your left ear.

You turned pretending to not be surprised by his sudden closeness. "What are you even talking about-"

"You think you can go back to normal society with these powers? You're already all over the media from swinging around tonight with me."

Spider-Man shoved your mask on your hands that cover yourself and you quickly put the mask back on. When you remove your hands, the first thing you see is a phone screen reading,

Another spider joins Spider-Man? Two swinging figures seen around teyvat city tonight, watch the video footage!

With narrowed 'I'm-not-having-it' eyes, you looked at him behind the phone, "you did this on purpose didn't you."

"The point is, you're now obligated to protecting the city whether you want to or not. It would be better if I trained you so you don't end up wasting your abilities by dying early."

My gods. Everything was happening so fast. Your hand came up to rub your temple through the mask because of the headache that rose.

Your hands went out in a calm down motion. "Ok ok give me a minute. I'm in college and I do have a lot of time, but how am I going to balance these two things? And how on earth are we going to meet up, to quote you, train?"

"Well I make it work with my classes. We can set a schedule for you to meet me at the building we first came in contact."

You mean the place you nearly busted my head open you thought to yourself before you caught an important detail in his words.

"You're in college?" You pause and look at Spider-Man who has his arms crossed. Silence before he spoke,

"No-"

"Oh wow you're younger than everyone thinks. I thought you were like 30 or something."

"Do I sound anything like thirty?" He said aggravated as he shot another web in your face making you take a couple steps back and struggle to get it off.

From that spot, you both worked out a plan to meet up three times a week on the tallest building roof. The first few weeks were rough, and they made you realize how tasking his job was. His training was rigorous, but you caught on fairly well. There were a couple times you went to grab his mask in hand to hand combat, only for you to fail and for him to flick your forehead. You tried making conversation, to which he didn't necessarily ignore you, but he kept his answers short and vague.

"So what major are you in since you won't answer which college you're at?" You poked his shoulder from where you were both sitting on the edge of the building.

"I'm an art student..."

"Actually?" You leaned forward and peered into the eyes on his mask. He nodded and went on staring out at the city. "What kind of medium do you like to use?"

"Charcoal most of the time. Occasional graphite or spray paint."

"I'll have to see some of your work sometime when we're not training. I really enjoy art."

"hmm..."

Over the next few times you two met, Spider-Man would let himself be more carefree with you in your now frequent conversations after training on top of the building. On one of your more tiring training sessions, a thought came into your head. This is merely training, what about real fights. Getting beaten and bruised with the media filming all of it. Was it ever lonely or stressful all by himself?

When you both sat down on the edge, you asked the question.

"It is lonely, being the only one in this position? Saving the city all by yourself?"

"It...was lonely, but now I'm too preoccupied dealing with your annoying ass to be like that."

"Aww, did my 'annoying ass' fill the void in your heart?" You exaggerated the last bit and poked his shoulder.

"Pshh." He pushed your poking hand off of him and tried to shoot a web at you again, but you dodged it. When his hand shot the web, you took the opportunity to try to grab his mask again. It had honestly become a thing to tease him with.

This time however, was different. He just seemed to sit there and let your hand wrap around the edges of his mask, taking it off and exposing his face. His hair whipped around in the wind, the violet bangs brushing his forehead. Long eyelashes and eyes that blinked slowly, almost teasingly so. His irises, like the color on his suit, but with depth and a color you could only describe as mesmerizing. Skin soft and a rosy pair of lips that parted slightly as you took the mask away. You almost reached out to touch him.

"Your eye pieces are wide open, what's the matter~?" His hand extends a bit and closes your slightly open mouth. He doesn't even bother to take the mask back from you, and instead just leans back on the ledge and throws his head back. Adam's apple moving as he swallows slightly.

"Uh-" you cleared your throat and tried looking at him again to speak, but when you did his eyes were locked with yours making your lungs close up.

"Scaramouche."

His voice brought you back. "What? Like Bohemian rhapso-"

"My name dumbass. You can use that instead of Spider-Man. Of course, not in public..."

You took off your own mask and set it beside his that now lay between you both. The wind felt good on your face, you hadn't taken it off in a while up there. There was a silence that hung from that point. You both rested there in your seated positions, and scaramouche could have sworn he heard you try out his name on your tongue.

...

The next month was peaceful. Winter break had begun, so you were able to rest at your apartment and spend more time with scaramouche. He actually started letting you into his life. You learned where he went to college and got to see a lot of his art projects in his own living space, although he kept some of them hidden from you for reasons unknown to you. Of course, you couldn't leave him alone about them and would always be trying to search for them when he wasn't looking.

"Hey, what do you say to getting a drink at- what the hell do you have in your hand?"

You stood there at his sketching desk, with papers that made your eyes wide. On the parchment, were graphite sketches of...you. The way the details on your face were so accurate made you blush furiously. All those times he would just seem to stare at you when your mask was off, was he looking so intently so he could draw you? The answer was right in front of your face.

Gods you were in deep. Not only did you develop feelings for him when you started training, but seeing this made you realize it was probably not one-sided.

Quick footsteps came behind you and a hand reached out to take the papers from you. Turning to him, you were surprised to see scaramouche's face close to yours with glaring eyes and a red that reached his ears.

"Did I not say that you weren't allowed to see those?"

Nothing came out your mouth. Your lips only parted to try and give an apology, and you didn't miss the way his eyes flicked down to your parted mouth. His eyes said so much, but you could see there was a fear in them as well.

...

After that incident, not much was said between you. The very next day you met on the tallest building once more. It was the day that you two would spar, like every other time right?

Wrong. You were both distracted. Every grab on your arm shot electricity through your soul, more than before. The same could be said for him. The distraction caused an accidental blow to the face, which knocked your mask off.

"Ah shit, are you al-" his voice cut short. You were leaning back against the wall behind you that he first encountered you on. Your chest was heaving and visible breath from the temperature came from your mouth. You looked too good to him in that moment, so he let his desires take over.

"Yeah I'm good...it just knocked my mask off-" a strong grip pushed you against the wall.

"Hey what-" Looking up at him, you saw his hand reach up and rip off his mask, his violet hair messily flowing around. He threw it to the floor before grabbing your face and smashing his lips on yours.

Your hands instinctively grabbed his suit turtleneck collar and pulled him into you. He wasted no time pushing his tongue past your lips and putting his body flush against yours. Surprised sounds left you as you could barely breath. He was desperate, hungry, and could no longer hold himself back.

The drawings were his only cope to deal with the feelings. Gods he was scared, scared that you would want to end the whole partner thing if you knew. Now all those doubts dissipated when he felt you meld your lips back with his when he tried to part your mouths.

Hands ran down your ribs and to your waist. His fingers were gripping you with need, and his mouth kissed you with abandon. Scaramouche never wanted to take his lips of yours, not after he'd waited so long gazing at you, watching the way you tried to do what he did, and feeling your covered skin when you fought.

Neither of you needed to breathe. You believed you could be sustained solely by each other's lips.

Only after several minutes of pure bliss in each other's mouths did you break apart for much needed air. You gasped and panted, and scaramouche did the same. He rested his head on your shoulder in the aftermath, just feeling your warmth that enveloped him despite the cold winds.

"Want to head to my apartment? We can um...continue there if you also want to-"

"Yes.”

You blushed when his hands wrapped around you and his face turned to kiss your jaw.

"I wonder if the media would like to know that Spider-Man is a romantic."

"Shut up..." He gave a slight laugh and slowly drew away from you. His eyes were clearly glazed over with a need for more, but he'd save it for when you were both warmer in your home. After picking up your masks off the ground, you both quickly made your way to your home where you couldn't stop scaramouche from starting to kiss your nape and skin before you even got into your apartment room.

Masterlist!

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