#but he saw the writing on the wall that his plant was going to be shut down

[sp0o0kylights]

Part One / A03

Turns out being a mall rat was a lot more fun than it looked.

Or at least it was when Eddie wasn’t dragging them all into his new favorite hobby: salivating over Sailor Steve.

“This feels a little…” Gareth started, sitting at a table behind a massive, planted bush.

“Adventurous? James Bond-like?”

“Creepy.” He finished, as they all watched Steve do some kind of sarcastic looking dance at Robin.

“It’s the binoculars, man.” Jeff added, watching Eddie lean over the bush. “It’s too much.”

“He’s trying so hard to win her over.” Eddie raged on. “He’s like one of those birds looking for a mate, doing all these fancy moves and--and spins!”

He sniffed loudly, offended both at Steve and on his behalf. “We’re getting her fired.”

Jeff gave a long suffering look to the ceiling. “We’re not getting her fired.”

“If we get her fired,” Grant said, in that ‘thinking aloud’ tone he had, “Would Steve be the new manager?”

“We could get so much free ice cream.” Eddie wheedled at Jeff, who frowned back at him.

“Once again I find myself asking how I became your conscience.”

“If the shoe fits, Jiminy Cricket.”

Gareth and Grant cackled, as he returned to staring at his beloved ex-jock’s attempt to befriend (or flirt with, if one asked Eddie) what had to be the first woman who wanted nothing to do with him.

Sans Tiff, of course.

“As much fun as watching Steve work is, can we please go back to what we were actually supposed to be doing?” Jeff tapped on the spiral bound notebook he’d brought with him.

It held the words “potential song lyrics” and absolutely nothing else.

“Aww Jeffrey,” Gareth cooed, leaning forward on his elbows. “Did you really think that Eddie wanted to work on band stuff at the mall?”

“We’ve got to work on your gullibility.” Grant piled on, as Jeff made disgusted noises in response.

“No, I saw this coming. But we do need at least two more original songs to make an EP.” It was a goal they’d chased all year and spectacularly failed to achieve.

Frustrated, Jeff added; “I don’t care if Eddie’s not on board—you two are helping me write lyrics or I will derail every D&D campaign hereafter with petty arguments."

The unspoken truth was that Eddie, much like with D&D, was a control freak when it came to Corroded Coffin. It was his band, no matter who else was a founding member (Jeff), and the moment actual work began on anything, he’d be drawn in like a moth to a flame.

As expected, Eddie took the bait.

“You’re not choosing anything without me!” He barked, finally abandoning his Steve-stalking. He spun to face Jeff, eyes alight with challenge. “And for the record, I do have an idea.”

“Is it a real one?” Jeff asked, not bothering to look up from the notebook. “Or another round of dick-and-balls limericks?”

“How very dare you make fun of my genius, that was a legitimate song!”

“You rhymed balls with walls, and dicks with bricks--”

Eddie didn’t wait for him to finish. He snatched the notebook out of Jeff’s hands, earning a glare sharp enough to kill a lesser man. “No, this one’s serious! It’s a proper track, I swear, I-- I need a pen. Jeff.” He turned to his bandmate, desperation in his eyes. “Give me your pen.”

“No.”

“Je-eeeff--” Eddie began in a whine before Grant, rolling his eyes, decided to end the nonsense by tossing one his way.

“See? Grant loves me.” He muttered indignantly as he snatched the pen and hunched over the notebook, scribbling furiously.

Words—actual, coherent words—began appearing on the page, and Jeff wisely kept any retaliatory retorts to himself. There was always the slim chance that Eddie was actually taking this seriously.

The others followed suit, falling into a hopeful silence.

Corroded Coffin prided itself on being a collaborative effort, but there was no denying Eddie was the strongest songwriter in the group. When he got inspired—or decided to stop screwing around—he could churn out stuff that felt electric. Like it had a real future and the band with it.

That was what they lived for.

“There!” Eddie declared, triumphantly shoving the notebook back at Jeff, grin practically screaming creative genius at work. “It’s rough—just a few lines and a chorus—but it’s solid. A starting point.”

Jeff snatched it eagerly, scanning the page as Gareth and Grant leaned in, eyes locked on his face.

Would this be something raw and heavy, in the vein of the few solid tracks they’d hammered out before? Something loud, fast, and undeniably metal? Or had Eddie finally given into all his threats and written them a love song?

(Gareth honestly didn’t care if it was a love song. He’d been expecting one for a while, given Eddie’s increasingly ridiculous heart-eyes at Steve.)

Except Jeff’s expression was rapidly imploding. His brow furrowed, lips flattening, until he finally slapped the notebook down on the table and leveled Eddie with an incredulous stare.

“So?” Eddie asked, practically vibrating with excitement. “Thoughts?”

“We’re not writing a song about the You-Suck Board.” Jeff deadpanned.

Oh, for the love of—

“Absolutely not!” Gareth cut in, throwing up his hands. “We already hear enough about that stupid thing. I’m not singing about it!”

The infamous You-Suck Board had been a sore spot since its inception, mostly because it involved Robin gleefully encouraging Steve to flirt with every single eligible woman who walked into Scoops Ahoy.

That he was, for what had to be the first time in his life, bombing out, appeared to only be suspicious to everyone but Robin--and, somehow, Eddie.

(“Why did it have to be flirting!” He’d snarled on the day of its creation, as Gareth had struggled to keep himself from jumping ship and hurling himself away from Van Halen. “Why couldn’t they have taken bets on anything else!?”

“I think it’s more that Steve flirts a lot given how many chicks come in to get ice cream--” Jeff had not so helpfully added.

The turn Eddie took in retaliation nearly cracked his head against the window.

“She doesn’t need to be encouraging him!”

“You realize if you just talked to him like we told you too, he probably wouldn’t be flirting with every single women that--”

Eddie took another wild turn, tires squealing in protest. Gareth abandoned any pretense of being cool and latched onto the handlebar, cursing loudly.

“And ruin our fucking friendship?” Eddie spat, knuckles white on the wheel. “Yeah I don’t think so.”

If Gareth hadn’t been busy actively praying for his life, he might’ve exchanged a long-suffering look with Jeff.

Who, unfortunately for everyone involved, was far braver—or stupider—than anyone gave him credit for.

“You know,” Jeff began, his voice surprisingly even despite the chaos, “you can’t be mad at him for flirting if you’re not willing to make a move.”

The van screeched through another corner, tilting so sharply that Gareth was convinced two wheels had left the ground. He yelped, adding another string of curses to the air.

“You can’t be mad at me either!” Jeff’s voice climbed an octave as Eddie took his frustrations out on the accelerator.

I’m not mad. Do I look mad!?” Eddie said, rather madly.

“Yes!” Jeff and Gareth both chanted, before Jeff finally smacked hard at their eldest friend's shoulder.

“That is it, you have lost driving privileges, pull the fuck over--!”)

“I’m just saying--” Jeff was trying to argue in the present, only for Eddie promptly flung himself away from the table, before dramatically stepping atop it.

He cleared his throat as they all groaned at him, Gareth scrambling to get his shit out of the way before it got stepped on.

“I declare a mutiny!” Eddie declared, voice ringing out and startling several nearby shoppers. “Mutiny from my own beloved crew! My brothers in flesh and blood!”

“Oh God, here we go.” Gareth muttered as Grant swatted ineffectively at Eddie’s pant leg.

“Have I not led you into battle? Given you victory after victory in the realms of--” He stopped abruptly, a deer in headlights, before the dorkiest smile Gareth had ever seen overtook his face.

Now the groans were for different reasons--because clearly, Eddie had been spotted by Steve.

Sure enough, when Gareth peeked over the hedge, Steve was staring straight at them.

His face lit up as he gave a small wave, and Eddie, ever the hopeless fool, couldn’t help but wave back.

Witnessing this, Grant turned and leveled Gareth with a flat look. “This is pathetic. I am officially requesting that you do something.”

“What?" Gareth sputtered in response. "Me?”

“Yes, you.”

“Why not Jeff!?”

“Because I’m his assigned conscience. Grant,” Jeff jerked a thumb in his direction. “got the right’s to his creative side and you," The finger flicked back to Gareth,  "get to tackle romance.”

“When did we all agree to this shit?!”

“Suck it up Emerson, the fates have decided.  Now sort this out before one of them pushes the other over the edge and we end up caught in the crossfire.” Jeff gestured upwards at Eddie, who had tuned this entire conversation out in favor of trading faces with Steve.

Presently his tongue was out, hands up in his classic “horned” pose.

“This is just sad.” Jeff finished, knowing damn well Eddie wasn’t listening.

“How am I supposed to fix it!?” Gareth protested but it was weak. He had a feeling it was going to come down to this--Eddie, for all his supposed edges, sure as shit wouldn’t make a move and Steve…

Honestly, Gareth couldn’t quite get a read on Steve—or whether Steve even realized he occasionally flirted back with Eddie. The guy had a crush, there was no doubt in Gareth’s mind, but having one and acknowledging you had one were two very different ball games.

And Gareth sucked ass at sports.

“Figure it out.” Grant said helpfully, and got the finger in response.

He could handle this.

He just...

Needed a plan.

Things were easier with plans--right?

(Wrong.)

xXx

“There’s something seriously wrong with this mall’s security.” Eddie announced as he barged into Scoop’s the next day, Gareth on his heels.

Steve, who’d just finished slinging ice cream to a troop of Girl Scouts, didn’t even look up.

“What makes you say that?” He asked.

“Because there’s an insane number of them, but they only seem to guard the loading dock?” Gareth answered truthfully.

it was weird that there was tons of dudes with shifty eyes and bad hairdo’s running around outside the mall--and never inside of it. Like yes sure, product shipment and shit, he got that but…

Wasn’t loss prevention focused on preventing loss in the stores? Where people like say, himself and Eddie, could pocket it?

“It’s like they’re not even trying!” Eddie scoffed, as he proceeded to empty his pockets, lining up the day’s treasure on the counter. "The one guy we saw spent the whole time talking in Russian to a delivery driver." 

That had been notable because Eddie had stolen something right in front of the guy, who had just turned away to avoid the obnoxious teenagers.

(And, of course,  gone on to speak in a terrible Russian accent for several minutes afterward.) 

They’d both stuck to small items--stickers, jewelry, and in Eddie’s case, an entire case of bouncy balls, but judging by the complete lack of reaction, Gareth had a feeling they could clear out the store and no one would even bat an eye.

It was odd, to say the least.

So was the fact that the construction company kept showing up to “fix” things. Massive semi trucks towing in materials with ‘Anodyne’ printed out in big ass letters along the side. Gareth and Eddie had spent a lunch watching one of the trucks load in, a literal swarm of people pulling out crates and sheets of metal down the largest service elevator Gareth had ever seen.

It didn’t make a lick of sense, but then, when did anything in Hawkins?

With a flourish, Eddie revealed his final treasure of the day. A button, with the words ‘Not a Prince, but I am Charming’ blazed across it in bright yellow lettering.

For you, Sailor." With an exaggerated bow and open palms, he presented it to Steve, his tone dripping with theatrical flair.

“Maybe securities just no match for you two.” Steve teased back, picking up the button and proudly pinning it to his shirt.

This caused Robin to snort loudly behind him.

She was given two different middle fingers in response.

Unfortunately, her normally sneering expression began to look dangerously contemplative the third or so time Eddie “adjusted” the button on Steve’s shirt, the two of them half slapping at each other over it and Gareth shot into damage control mode before the idiots outed themselves to her.

“Anyone else here yet?” Gareth asked, shoving at Eddie as he pretended to fight for countertop elbow space.

He was shoved back, but at least everyone seemed to get a clue, Eddie abandoning Steve’s button to slump on the counter in a way he knew Robin hated.

Steve made an obvious show of checking his watch. “Nope, but none of you freeloaders tend to show up for another hour anyway. You two are early.”

Eddie gasped, hand leaping to clutch at his chest, above his heart. ‘Steven! I know you didn’t just call me, one of your closest, bestest, friends, a freeloader!”

“You’re one of the worst offenders." Steve deadpanned. "Frankly you’d be number one if the dipshits weren’t constantly in here harassing me to let them sneak into the movies.”

Another loud gasp. “You’ve been letting the children sneak into movies and not us?”

He got a smirked at for his efforts. “You’d get caught.”

Playfully offended, Eddie’s mouth dropped open.

“And the loud shrieky one won’t!?”

“The loud shrieky one is controlled by Lucas and Max.”

“Such disrespect! After I bring you a present and everything!” Eddie sniffed. Robin was still watching them, Gareth noted, though this time it looked less confused and more like the expression on his parents face when they watched something weird happen on a nature documentary.

It was still too close for comfort.

Thankfully a proper distraction arrived, in the form of the rest of Hellfire. 

“Guess who's working that new cookie kiosk?” Stewart announced as the group breezed in, saving Gareth from having to stomp on Eddie’s foot (or start a sprinkle war or any of the other ridiculous shit he’d had to pull the last few days.)

“James Heartfiend.“ Steve said flatly. 

"It's Hetfield, which I know you know, just like I know you're mispronouncing D&D names on purpose."  Eddie told him. “Which is a sin, I’ll have you know.”

“Would this be the same kind of sin as washing dishes or--”

“No--shut up Eds--Steve!” Stewart yelled over Eddie. “Guess again! Steve!”

"I know you didn't just tell me to shut up, Stewart--" 

“Whatever you’re doing, Gary,” Jeff whispered as two different arguments broke out on top of each other, “do it faster.”

He didn’t have to specify what he meant, given how Eddie was blatantly competing for Steve’s attention.

“I’m trying.” Gareth hissed back, annoyed. “I don’t see you helping any!”

“He,"  Jeff pointed his head in Eddie’s direction, making it clear who he meant, "called me at 10pm last night because Steve finally got a You Rule point. He ranted me to sleep.”

“Well that’s not helping, is it?”

“It’s torture. I am being tortured.”

“That isn’t torture, Jeff. Torture is waking up to go on a jog with Steve only to have him derail every attempt at discussing relationships because you’re running wrong--”

“It’s Alex Copeland.” Tiff announced loudly, cutting off the increasingly loud conversation happening around them.

Silence abounded as everyone took the name in.

“I don’t know who that is.” Robin said cautiously, peering at Hellfire as if waiting for some grand reveal.

(She startled about three different people in doing so, Gareth included. They had got to get better at remembering when she was there.) 

“Neither do we.” Jeff said as he abandoned Gareth to shoulder his way to the counter, throwing a handful of bills down on it as Grant groaned in the background. 

Steve apparently, had been making ice cream while everyone was arguing, because Jeff’s usual order was handed right over in return.

The fucking overachiever.

“Honestly we don’t either.” Jeff admitted, as he began shoveling ice cream in his mouth. “Grant won’t let us see her.” 

“He’s so embarrassed about it, it’s hilarious.” Gareth added, snatching up one of the free sample spoons and stealing a bite as payment for all the comments. 

He was doing the best he could here, and given he had somehow been assigned the Herculean task of trying to get two of their closest friends to realize they liked each other, he figured Hellfire as a whole owed him.

Turns out it was pretty fucking hard to sit your good friend down for a “I know we kinda talked about it, but you do know you’re not straight, right?” conversation, and spinning it further into “also I think you have a crush on Eddie” downright impossible.

He made another go at Jeff’s ice cream.

Jeff turned, sticking up an elbow to block as he made a face. “Get your own!”

“Why bother when I can have yours?” Gareth countered, ducking around the offending elbow and moving to get back at the bowl.

The older teen turned again, resulting in a sort of dog-chasing-its-tail effect as Gareth continued to turn with him, the both of them spinning faster.

“We’re convinced it’s a fake name.” Tiffany added, completely ignoring her friend's shenanigans.

“It isn’t!” Grant protested far too loudly, blushing fire engine red. 

“So who do we think it actually is?” Steve asked, catching onto the gag immediately.

“All we know is that it’s an older woman, who “is super sweet”,” Tiff made quotation marks with her fingers, “calls him hun, and has the photobooth gig as a part time job.”

“Okay…?”

“Joyce Byers.” Jeff said loudly, before snapping his teeth at Gareth's hands in a threat to bite.

Steve broke into laughter immediately.

“What.” He wheezed, nearly dropping the scooper he was playing with.

Grant moaned like a dying thing. 

“See, our dear friend here had a small crush when he was a wee child…” Eddie started, with his usual flair.

“Which he denies to this day but he still gets all anxious if she’s around--” Gareth continued, undeterred by Jeff’s threats.

“Jonathan’s mom!?” Steve continued to wheeze, as if there was a different Joyce Byers running around.

"Lies!" Grant himself snapped. "Lies and--and slander!" 

“Grant is a sucker for cougars.” Jeff said over his protests, still spinning.

“Oh, screw you  Jeff!”

“Sorry but I can’t, Grant.” Jeff turned the other way, trying to trick Gareth out. “What would Miss Byers think?

“Gary,” Steve called out as Grant bit out more protests. “Stop pestering Jeff and come get your own.” He pulled out a bowl and shook it, just like you would to call a pet.

“I don’t have ice cream money!”

“I’m giving it to you, idiot.”

"Oh. Thanks!" 

“You guys are so weird,” Robin interrupted, standing off to the side with her arms crossed, giving the same look teenagers on TV give when asked to do something gross. 

Eddie beamed at her, to her clear disgust. “Damn right we are.”

She rolled her eyes. “Could you please go be weird elsewhere?” 

Which was not the first time Robin had made that particular plea. It wouldn't be the last, either. 

“Sorry Buckles,” Eddie said, leaning on the counter once again. “But Hellfire sticks together. You have one of us, you get all of us.”

Robin pondered that longer than Gareth thought was necessary, tilting her head in thought.

“So, if I fire Steve, does that mean I get rid of all of you?” she asked, challenging them.

Eddie tapped his finger to his chin. “Well…”

“No, no.” Steve directed the first to Eddie before spinning and stressing the second at Robin. “I need this job. No firing!”

“Pretty sure that's the manager's decision, Steve.” Grant teased, happy to throw him under the bus if it meant people stopped talking about Joyce Byers.

“She’s the assistant manager!”

“To a guy we have never met! And,” Eddie turned to Robin, as though expecting her to back him up, “as Lady Buckley just pointed out, we are here all the time. Therefore,”

He smacked the back of one hand into his palm, “I declare that there isn’t actually a manager and Robin can hire and fire as she likes!”

Steve was starting to look desperate, as though Robin might actually buy any of this nonsense. 

“Eddie.”

“No firing.” Gareth cut in, as if he had any authority on the matter, digging happily into his ice cream. 

"Fi-iine." Eddie grumbled, collapsing onto the counter with all the grace of a fallen deer. "Say, Stevie, could I possibly get some of that sweet, sweet free ice cream in mint flavor?"

Under his breath, Jeff told Gareth; "You don't deserve yours." 

Gareth didn’t respond right away, his attention caught by Eddie poking at the ridiculous button he’d given Steve—and how Steve just... let him.

It made him think about how Steve used to be—and how, in many ways, he still was when it came to anyone in his space. How different he was now.

Steve wasn’t the kind of person to seek out touch, but the Steve they saw now was much closer to the one they had grown up with—without all the “King Steve” nonsense.

He was loud. Playfully rude. Just the other day, he slapped Grant on the shoulder in excitement about some basketball game and didn’t even seem to notice he'd done it.

Eddie had done that. Hellfire had helped, absolutely, but Steve wasn’t haunting Jeff’s house or Gareth’s garage, or Grant's basement bedroom. Off-shift, the guy could usually be found with Eddie, and if not, Eddie would always know where he was.

It was why Gareth had taken the approach of talking to Steve first, instead of pushing Eddie to confess.

If they messed this up...

It could blow up not just their friendship, but all of Hellfire’s with Steve.

And that wasn’t fair.

"No, I do." Gareth muttered, trying to push away the weight of all the ways this could go wrong. "I definitely do."

When it was all said and done, he deserved far more than free ice cream, and he fully intended to collect on that.

...If he could just get Steve and Eddie to make some progress first.

xXx

On a random Sunday (or if you were Gareth, on Attempt 15 of The Dating Talk) Dustin Henderson returned from camp, greatly annoyed about his friends but looking forward to seeing Steve.

Gareth would stare, with a look on his face that could only be described as “delighted” as the two of them proceeded to perform the dorkiest handshake on Earth, complete with lightsaber noises and Steve tragically dying at the end.

“Do not tell Eddie about that.” Steve would hiss, finger pointing threateningly in Gareth’s direction.

“Swear it on my life.” Gareth would reply--only after making eye contact with Robin.

She might be Eddie’s enemy at the moment, but he figured this was a solid way to win her over—especially with Steve so hell-bent on becoming her friend.

After all, he was here for yet another round of their never-ending “feelings” talk—not that he planned on having it in front of Robin, but rather to steal Steve away during his break (and maybe score a free lunch in the process).  Getting on Robin's good side would mean fewer complaints from her about Gareth haunting Scoops—and about Gareth constantly pulling Steve away.

Too bad he’d failed once more, his frustration mounting as he made no absolutely zero progress. 

(Steve, as it turned out, had an almost supernatural ability to detonate entire conversations, and he was presently using it for evil.

A carefully placed question here, a scoffing remark about elves there, and before Gareth knew it, the bastard had sidestepped every trap and sent them careening into uncharted territory. By the time Gareth noticed, Steve was long gone.

Pinning him down at work was becoming his only option, given the older teen couldn’t just up and vanish, but even that hadn’t exactly worked out today.

Thus, Dustin’s interruption had been appreciated.

Stewart's, on the other hand, wasn’t.) 

“Steve!”

Robin glanced up, before making a face. “Oh look, here comes one of your little fanclub.”

“It’s not a fanclub, Robin."

“Yeah? Then why is he screaming your name?”

“She’s got you there.” Dustin told Steve, the traitor.

“Ste-eeve!”

Stewart was breathing hard, eyes shining as he slid to a stop in front of Scoop’s counter. With the excited air of someone who’d just scored the winning goal, he slammed a cylinder down on the counter.

One that glowed a familiar, sickening green color.

“Who sucks now!?” He bellowed, as if that part of the board had ever in any way shape or form applied to him.

“Motherfucker.” Steve cursed instead, staring at the thing in horror.

“Why Steven,” Dustin clucked his tongue with a grin. “Such uncouth language!”

“And in front of children too.” Robin added dryly.

Steve dropped his head to the counter while simultaneously raising his middle finger.

“I hate my life.” He moaned.

“No you don’t.” Eddie declared, announcing his presence by flinging Scoop’s window open with a bang! “Not when you’re a grand adventurer, setting sail on the ocean of flavor!”

Without picking up his head, Steve blindly grabbed a spoon and hurled it at him, striking the center of Eddie's forehead with perfect aim.

Gareth and Dustin both applauded. 

“Munson we talked about this, you cannot be behind the counter let alone in the backroom!” Robin shrieked, hands going to support the You Suck board as it wobbled dangerously.

(It had been modified at some point the day prior, and was now split into thirds, reading “You Rule” “You Suck” and ‘Fountain”

Underneath ‘Fountain’ was three Xs and a poorly drawn skull.

“We really need to put a leash on him.” Tiff said when she first saw it, with the air of someone whose puppy had chewed through another shoe.

“We need to burn it.” Eddie had responded darkly, and then the topic of conversation was quickly changed before he could get another rant going.)

“Hate life later. Where did you find this?” Dustin asked, reaching out as if to grab the goo, and immediately getting his hand slapped down by Steve.

“Tell me it wasn’t in the water fountain.” He added, as Eddie walked himself to the front, Robin glaring daggers at him the entire time.

“What--no!” Offended, Stewart shrieked, as Steve batted Dustin’s away a second time and promptly ended up in a slap fight.

“How did you even know about the fountain you little shit, you haven’t even been here!” He continued, clutching at his home made plaid vest like a string of pearls.

“Legendary tales travel, Stuck Stewart.” Dustin told him, eyes narrowed in concentration as he ducked and dodged. 

“Your betrayal is noted, Harrington.” Stewart snarled, correctly guessing exactly how that tale had traveled.

“Oh my God.” Dustin said suddenly, reaching out to snatch at Steve’s arm, halting him mid slap. He shook it wildly, a grin overtaking his face. “Oh my God!”

“What?” Gareth asked, because he wasn’t yet aware of what Dustin’s “I figured something out” song and dance meant yet.

“The weird code I was talking about! Steve, Steve-- I bet this is related!”

“No.” Steve said, hand ripping away from Dustin’s to slash wildly in the air. “Absolutely not.”

“Yes!” Dustin countered gleefully.

“You guys realize it’s not code, right?” Robin cut in. “The shitty noise you’ve been playing, super loudly by the way, in our breakroom for like two hours? Yeah, that's Russian.”

At their blank stares she deadpanned; “It’s a language.”

Like she thought the lot of them were stupid.

(Because she did.)

“And how do you know that?” Steve asked, and the same time Dustin spun to look at her and demanded;

“Do you speak Russian!?”

“No, but,” Robin gave them a slow, calculating smile, “I could.”

“She could.” Dustin repeated to Steve, practically beaming.

‘She could.’ Eddie mouthed sarcastically at Gareth, turning so only he and Stewart could see him do it.

Following Steve’s footsteps, Gareth threw a spoon at him.

(He missed but it was the thought that counts.) 

“What we should do is give that,” Steve pointed a single, accusatory finger at the goo vial, “to Hopper and let him know we found it at the mall. Which is a super weird place for it to be.”

Which was true. Gareth honestly hoped this was another case of some kid or teenager finding and abandoning it, and not an indication that Starcourt was involved in the supposed clean up Hopper had swore was coming.

“If this is at the mall,” Stewart said hesitantly, “Then do you think that uh, other things, might have followed it?”

“Unlikely, the mall’s too busy.” Dustin dismissed easily.

Too easily, for Gareth—he’d watched that damn Manticore disappear into the wall. If it could move like that, it could just as easily hide itself, crowded mall or not.

“What other things?” Robin asked, before making a move like she was about to grab the goo. “What even is this, anyway?”

“Drugs.” Steve said, at the exact same time Dustin answered; “Nothing!”

They turned and glared at each other while Stewart carefully pulled the vial out of Robin’s reach.

(And then Eddie’s, when he looked like he might try and grab it too.)

“We’re not really sure what it is,” Gareth told Robin. Thinking quickly, he tacked on; “but we found some earlier and the cops were interested in it. They said they’re being careful after the whole thing last year.”

“Thing? Like the Hawkins lab thing? Where people died?” Robin was looking more alarmed by the minute. “This is an ice cream shop, we can't have that in here! ”

“Well no ones going to eat it.” Steve scoffed.

“Is that a challenge?” Eddie said with a grin, making grabby hands at the vial.

“One of those Girl Scouts was licking the table the other day, someone absolutely will!" Robin's voice grew in pitch and volume, eyes wide as she stared a the goo. "What if it melts things or blows up, or--”

“Hey--hey, calm down.” Steve soothed, turning on the Harrington charm full force. He reached out, putting a hand on Robin's shoulder. “If it was going to melt don’t you think it’d have gone through the container?”

Gareth watched it happen with a raised eyebrow--he more than anyone knew Steve didn’t often casually reach out to people like that. Logic said he was doing it because Buckley looked actually panicked and Steve was a fucking softie at heart but--

Logic also said that Eddie wouldn’t read it that way.

Sure enough, Gareth cut a glance towards his best friend and found him watching Steve soothe Robin’s fears with a stiff back, hands clenched at his sides.

(Ruh-roh.)

“Not if that's a special container, Dingus!”

“Maybe she’s right.” Eddie said, voice a touch off and oh, fuck, the jealous bastard was going to make things worse.

Gareth turned to him to give him a warning look, only for Eddie to lean around him entirely.

“Maybe this container is made from a rare metal and if we open it, it’ll chew right through the floor--or a hand, even.” He grinned, a nasty looking thing, before reaching towards the vial. “Only one way to find out…”

“Eds.” Steve admonished, sending him his own warning look as Robin shrieked out a curse and Stewart danced backwards, away from the group, goo vial in hand. 

“We never did play with it.” Dustin said thoughtfully. “We should experiment, see if we can figure out what it is.”

Which was a far more terrifying sentence than anything Eddie could whip up, because unlike the older teen, Henderson meant it.

“Absolutely not!” Steve and Robin yelled at the same time, before casting surprised looks at each other.

Steve’s face broke into a smile, and for two entire seconds Robin’s looked like it might as well before she caught herself.

Eddie’s own smile sharpened in return, and Gareth groaned inwardly.

If Robin got into a relationship with Steve before he could properly intervene about all things Eddie, Hellfire was going to be in for a rough ride.

(He could already picture it.

Steve, lovestruck and oversharing in front of Eddie, leading to inevitable chaos for everyone else. The man could rival a PTA mom whose cookies were branded “fattening” when he got tangled up in a snit, and Steve dating anyone right now would cause problems--but Robin?

Who spent most of her time insulting him and Hellfire both?

Yeah.

Gareth would gladly suffer another character death in D&D than go through that.)

“Stewart, give it to Hopper.” Steve all but ordered, while Gareth and Eddie both catastrophized in different directions. “Dustin, let Robin listen to the stupid code. See if her oversized brain can figure it out.”

“Oversized?” Robin asked, though they could all tell she was still distracted by the way her eyes were glued to the glue. 

“Oh I’m sorry,” Steve's hand went to his hips, cocking them sideways the way a gangster cocked his gun. “I thought you said you could translate Russian, but if you can’t…”

Robin went from fearful to offended in an instant.

“Shut up Dingus, of course I can!”

Which was the second time she’d used that nickname in as many minutes. Eddie’s expression darkened, a storm cloud of repressed rage encircling his head, and Gareth resisted the urge to duck for cover. 

“I’ll take it to Hopper but only if someone comes.” Stewart said, seemingly oblivious to the cliff they were all hurtling towards. “That man is terrifying.”

Robin ignored him, sticking a hand out, palm facing upwards. “Give me the code." 

Steve ignored him too, in favor of egging on his coworker. “Show her the recording, Dustin, let’s see the great Robin Buckley in action.” He taunted as Dustin dutifully handed over the tape recorder. 

“Anyone...?” Stewart asked hesitantly, and Gareth made sure not to meet his gaze.

(He already had his hands full with the whole Steve-and-Eddie situation—he was not taking on Hopper too!)

“Guess I’ll go with Stewart then.” Eddie sniped, shoving himself off the counter. “Since you guys would rather play spy with the radio.”

His tone was cutting enough that Steve took notice, a frown flicking into life. 

“What's got into him?” He asked Gareth, puzzled, as Eddie stormed off, loudly commanding Stewart to follow.

“No idea.” He lied. “Now about that code…”

If he kept them all focused on it, he figured, Dustin would hang around. That would in turn, successfully derail the majority of Steve’s stupid charms--to at least delay things enough that Gareth could pin him down to finally have a talk. 

You know, if Steve finally let him do it.

(Steve did not let him do it.)

xXx

Gareth hadn’t believed it was humanly possible to learn a language that fast.

Robin Buckley, apparently, wasn’t anyone. After witnessing her rattle off full sentences with unnerving confidence, he decided he’d never question her abilities again—not for the rest of his natural life.

“I can’t speak it.” Robin corrected when she finally decoded the word they’d all been struggling over. “This is just a basic translation.”

“Yeah, but you actually understand it.” Steve said, clearly impressed. “You had most of the code translated in like, one shift.”

“It still doesn’t sound right though.” Dustin complained, staring at the white board they'd confiscated. “The week is long. The silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west. A trip to China sounds nice if you tread lightly?” 

“You’re forgetting the music.” Steve pointed out and was met by a chorus of groans.

“Yes, the one you’re convinced belongs to the toy horsie ride near the movie theater.” Dustin rolled his eyes, and Gareth rolled his own right along with him.

'Horsie.' Gareth mouthed at Steve, who mouthed it back with a grin. 

Steve was this close to pulling them all towards the damn toy horse, Scoop’s be damned, but that would mean the stupid recording had been done at the mall--and what were the chances of that?

(“Honestly they’re pretty decent, Cerebro can pick up far away signals.” Henderson had started, when Steve first mentioned it, kicking off an entirely separate argument with Robin regarding radio wavelengths and other terms that flew over Gareth’s head.)

“It sounds exactly the same!” Steve protested, with all the conviction of a teenage boy who’d been wronged.

"The point I'm making," Dustin sassed back, "is that your translation sounds like nonsense." He turned to Robin accusingly.  "Ergo, you probably translated it wrong." 

Which almost sent them right back around to the start of the argument they’d been having all morning, but fortunately for Gareth's incoming headache, fate had other ideas. 

“Does anyone else think Billy Hargrove has a screw loose?” The elder teen interrupted with his usual flair, popping up in Scoop’s like a Jack in the Box after sneaking through the door.

No one jumped this time, which appeared to disappoint him greatly.

“The entire high school I suspect. Maybe some teachers. Why?” Robin asked, because she’d grown comfortable with their fast changing screwball conversations.

Gareth thought she might even secretly enjoy some of them, not that he was going to call anyone's attention to that.

Regardless, he watched Eddie warily—this was the first time Eddie had come back to Scoop’s since storming off to take Stewart and the goo to Hopper.

Which he knew they had done, because Eddie had called him afterwards, frantic for a second opinion on whether Hopper had been threatening him, apologizing, or some odd mix of the two.

(“It sounded like he was reading from a script he couldn’t remember,” Eddie had whined. “And he kept insisting he wasn’t trying to growl at me, for some reason?”

“That’s fucking weird man.” Gareth said. “You think someone put him up to it?”

Eddie hesitated, then blurted out, "You don’t think Steve said something, do you?"

"I don’t think he and Steve are that close."

"God, I hope not." Gareth could almost hear the shiver in Eddie’s voice. "Can you imagine?"

He could, actually, but he wasn’t about to share that with Eddie.

Though, the thought of Steve in Scooby Doo pajamas was kind of hilarious…

“He's lifeguarding at the pool and he seems a bit more…” Eddie trailed off, clearly fishing for the right word. “Unhinged, than usual.”

“What does that even look like?” Dustin said with a snort. “Is he spitting fire? Did he finally grow horns?”

“Maybe he ate a child.” Gareth added, with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Eddie was frowning though, instead of piling on. “He’s weird for sure.” He said, which was about as vague as he always got when it came to Billy Hargrove.

Gareth knew why. Hellfire’s fearless leader saw something of himself, or something he could have been, in Hargrove. It was that dumb little empathetic part of him that led him to being who he was--defender of nerds, king of the freaks.

A core part of him, that Gareth, and frankly all of Hellfire loved but…

Well.

Gareth had locked eyes with Hargrove once. Just passing by, in the hallways.

It felt like locking eyes with a crocodile. Power and violence wrapped up together in a way that felt instinctive--reactionary.

Not exactly something you could reason with.

Eddie saw him differently (saw everyone differently, by his very nature) but this felt an awful lot like playing with a wild animal. The only thing that determined whether you or someone else became dinner was who said animal noticed first.

“You can always ask Max, though Hargrove’s a sore spot for her.” Steve said. He too, Gareth realized, was eyeing Eddie. He had assumed their jock had brushed off the strange behavior from the other day, but maybe he was more perceptive than Gareth had given him credit for—at least when it came to Eddie.

Dustin looked distinctly uncomfortable.

“I wouldn’t ask Max about Billy.” He said, hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. Very much a first for him, given his usual “charge in anyway” attitude, and thus very noticeable.

“He’s a dick, and he’s working.” Steve dismissed with a shrug.  “Dude’s unhinged, yeah, but he has calmed down a bit.”

Gareth couldn’t have disagreed more. He’d finally gotten the real story behind the Hargrove-Harrington fight—none of the wild rumors like “Harrington tried to date Hargrove’s little sister” or “Hargrove and Harrington started a fight club." 

Now he understood why Billy kept his distance from Steve, but even that uneasy not-quite-truce felt like it could snap at any moment.

(Eddie’s uncanny ability to sense when someone was dealing with something wasn’t exactly helpful in situations like this either.

His strange little internal radar for People In Distress was sharp enough that Gareth was sure Hargrove was grappling with some sort of issue—meaning Eddie, true to form, wouldn’t just leave it alone.

Eddie had always managed to wriggle free from whatever trouble he stumbled into, but this time? This time Gareth was uneasy—probably because Steve had once shown them the too-shiny scar along his hairline, a souvenir from his own run-in with Billy.

Steve was a fighter. A tank. A goddamn paladin. He could weather hits like that and somehow keep going, battered but alive.

Eddie…

Eddie wasn’t built the same. And Gareth had no desire to see just how far luck would stretch.)

“He still buys from me.” The man himself was saying, stubborn conviction coming to life. “I’ll talk to him.”

Steve was alarmed immediately.

“Could you at least take someone with you?” He asked, and Gareth gave it to him--the guy had learned fast that was better than attempting to ask Eddie to not go at all.

“To what? Help protect me against the scary mean jock? I’ll be fine.” Eddie stuck his tongue out to blow a raspberry. “Besides, bringing someone else means I couldn’t just cut and run if he gets uppity.”

Despite all clear and present stressors, the teasing had Steve visibly relaxing.

Apparently Eddie's snits were more obvious than even Gareth had realized.

“I’d love to see you, who I am pretty sure skipped all of PE class but definitely anything involving running, manage that.”

Eddie winked at him. “Trust me big boy, when it comes to my life, I can run.”

“I trust you.” Steve said, painfully earnest. “Just…be careful, yeah? Hargrove’s not…”

He trailed off and Gareth mentally filled in the rest.

(Not sane was a strong contender, though “Not all there” was equally likely.)

“Just be careful.” Steve finished.

Eddie grinned, before reaching out and booping him on the nose.

“Always am!”

“He’s not.” Gareth said truthfully, as Eddie wiggled his way out of the store. “But I’ll keep an eye on him.”

Steve touched the tip of his nose where Eddie booped it, looking both annoyed and slightly red about it.

“Thanks.” He muttered.

“For you?” Gareth teased, trying to lighten the mood. “Anytime.”

He sent his own, exaggerated wink Steve’s way and basked in the loud boos Robin and Dustin both gave him for it.

Bonus

In the wee morning hours of 9 AM, Gareth sat on the counter of Scoop’s and tiredly watched as a group of grim men walked by with some sort of construction material covered by a tarp.

The tarp had the words ANODYNE blazed across it--or would have, had someone not taken paint and changed it to “ANAL ONLY.”

(That person might have been Gareth, not that he’d ever tell.)

“So you know how you’ve taken to calling Eddie nicknames?” Gareth started, wondering if the key to all this was just being fast enough to say it before Steve could spin them off topic.

“Yeah?” Steve said.

“You know how you don’t call anyone else by a nickname?”

“I literally called you Gary five minutes ago.” Steve refuted. “Also I’m pretty sure Tiff’s full name isn’t, you know. Tiff.”

“I don’t mean those kinds of nicknames.”

He meant the fact that Steve had decided, after months of tolerating ‘Sunshine’ ‘Sunlight’ and various other variations Eddie came up around the word “sun” he’d finally given Eddie a special nickname of his own.

A cute one even, that had made Eddie blush when he’d first heard it.

“I’m not following.” Steve told him as he flung up the gate that stood guard over Scoop’s Ahoys' entrance, with a motion so smooth Gareth was briefly mad at him for accomplishing it.

Stupid athletes and their jock powers.

“You know damn well what I mean.” He said, exasperated with all the dodging.

Something Steve must have picked up on, because he sighed.

“If you haven’t noticed, Eddie's been kind of clingy lately. Octopus level clingy.” Steve told him as he finished setting up (and Gareth in turn, did absolutely nothing to help. Hey, he wasn't the one getting paid!) 

He didn’t have much time—Robin was apparently opening, and Steve had only gotten there first because of his odd habit of going for morning runs. Since the two of them were determined to crack the stupid code today, Henderson would probably show up soon, too.

Gareth was only up this early out of a love for two friends that he better be thanked for at their wedding. He could be asleep right now but noooo--

“He’s been acting kinda weird, too." Steve continued. "He won’t say why, so I thought giving him a nickname back might make him happy.”

Before Gareth could dig into that, Steve picked up a towel and whipped it towards the younger teen. 

“Now get off my counter, I don’t want to give Robin any reason to bitch at me today.”

Gareth leapt out of the way, mindful of the towel after the first time he learned how much the damn things hurt. “Do you really care what she thinks?”

It was an honest question--Gareth had a hard time getting a read on what, exactly, Steve was trying to accomplish with her.

He got where the You Rule/You Suck board had come from.

Understood how that ballooned into a game where Steve flirted--and greatly annoyed--every chick who waltzed past.

What he couldn’t understand was why Steve was working so hard to be nice to her. From every angle, it seemed like he was trying to win her over. If that’s what Steve wanted, then Gareth wasn’t about to get in the way, but…

He needed to stop flirting with Eddie, if that was the case. Needed to be told he was flirting, and that Eddie didn’t deserve it if Steve had no intention of following through.

Steve made a face, like he was trying to decipher his own emotions. “Kind of?”

And finally, Gareth had his opening.

He pounced. 

“Do you like her?” 

“As a person I do.” 

Annoyed with the non-answer, Gareth was quick to lighten the noose. “And as a date?”

Steve wiped down the counter with the towel, once. Twice. 

“Nah.” He admitted. He averted his gaze down into the endless rows of ice cream. “It’s not like that.”

“What’s it like then?” Gareth pressed. 

Steve frowned, chewing on his bottom lip as he thought about the answer. Gareth let him, knowing he got like thi when he was actually thinking something through, and wanted to phrase it the right way.

Pity their time had run up.

“Harrington, what did I say about letting customers in here before we’re officially open!?” Robin snapped as she strode through the back doors, sending a glare Gareth’s way.

“Gary said he wanted to apply to work for us.” Steve returned, sending a downright evil smirk Gareth’s way. “So technically he’s not a customer.”

Robin stopped dead in her tracks to stare at them, eyes narrowed as she attempted to suss out if Steve was lying. “Really?” 

“Absolutely not.” Gareth spat. 

Then, as petty revenge for the denial of the answer he’d been chasing, tattled; “Also Steve forgot to check the walk in.”

Gareth!” Steve called, twisting the towel in his hands like a weapon.

“Sorry, not sorry!” Gareth chanted, bolting for the exit before the towel could strike.

It wasn’t the conversation he’d hoped for, but for the moment, Steve’s little confession felt like a small victory.

A place to start.

And that filled him with absolute glee—until he ran past the construction workers, hollering apologies when he nearly knocked one over (and almost sent the entire group toppling with him).

“My bad! He called over his shoulder, hearing shouts of “Idiot!” “Stupid boy!” and something that sounded suspiciously like Russian—

Which Gareth, of course, understood. He’d spent nearly as much time on the stupid code as Steve and Robin had, after all.

He skidded to a halt, his eyes widening as he looked back at the angry crew, noticing one of the Russian-speaking security guards Eddie had mocked was with them.

There was no way Steve’s wild theory about the code being recorded in the mall was true, except...

When you combined it with the goo vial Stewart had found and the music, it started to look like it might be.

‘Well,’ Gareth thought. ‘Shit.’

[kolsmikaelson]

AND THEN THERE WERE THREE…

NOTES — just saw challengers today and absolutely needed to write smth for these two! only used a gif of art because theres none of the two of them and almost none for patrick </3, i’m a little rusty with smut so bare with me

WARNINGS — 18+ content mdni, slight challengers 2024 spoilers, fem!reader, kinda dom!art, pure smut/little plot, art/patrick interactions, talk of previous art/patrick sexual encounters, spit play, oral (m receiving), tit sucking, dirty talk, mentions of anal, little bit of aftercare, not proofread, lmk if i forgot anything!

REQUEST — Pls write a smut fic with reader and Art fucking in the hotel room (with Patrick watching) and reader asking if Patrick can join them and ofc Art can’t say no because he finds the idea of this super hot. Maybe reader makes Art and Patrick make out like in the movie 👀

WORD COUNT — 1.6k

join my taglist or follow @rodrickhefley to see when i post

None of you were too sure how exactly this had started. You, Art, and Patrick had stumbled back into their hotel room after leaving the beach, each of you finding your own place to sit after Patrick opened up a beer, took a swig, and passed the can to you. You’d taken a seat closer to Art, having naturally gravitated towards him more so than Patrick. And quickly, you and Art were making out, leaving Patrick to watch. 

You blamed the beer. And the fact that you found both Art and Patrick incredibly hot. One minute you’re at a party, dedicated to your best friend, Tashi Duncan, and the next you’re sitting on the beach being invited back to the guys’ hotel room, and the next after that, Art is stripping you of your clothes while Patrick takes a seat leaned up against the wall opposite the foot of the bed. 

“Can I-” He begins, fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt, desperation clear in his eyes. At your nod, Art quickly yanks your shirt over your head and immediately pulls your body flush against his. He’s planting soft, wet kisses up and down your neck as his fingers work the back of your bra. His eyes widen the moment it drops to the ground. 

Giving you a moment's glance he quickly sucks one nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking and biting. Feeling as though he’s neglected the other one, he pinches and tugs on the opposite nipple, smiling around the one in his mouth at the moans you let out. 

“Yeah, baby? You like this? Me with your tits in my mouth and my best friend jerking off while watching us?”

For a moment, you’d forgotten about Patrick. Your eyes shoot open, landing on him instantly. The sight of him, slouched against the wall, his hand already wrapped around his cock, with his eyes fixated on both you and Art. He looked so hot, you weren’t sure how you’d forgotten that he was even there. 

“Mhm, ‘s hot.” you admitted, turning Arts face back to you, tugging his bottom lip back into your mouth. The blond pushes you back onto the beds that were pushed together - Patrick’s idea if anyone were to ask - and begins kissing up your stomach only stopping long enough to kiss each of your nipples. He grabs your face, pushing his fingers into your cheeks, making you open your mouth, before letting a large glob of spit fall from his mouth into yours. 

“Swallow.” He smiles when you do so without complaint, even going as far as to look as if you wanted him to do it again. 

Patrick moans at that, louder than before. Sure he and Art had messed around before, when they were both single and bored and needed a good fuck, that wasn’t new, but hearing that commanding tone in the blonds voice sent a shiver down his spine. 

“God, that was hot.” Patrick sighs, laughing when Art gives him the finger. 

“Fuck off, Patrick.” Both of them know he doesn’t mean it, if he wasn’t wanted there, you or Art would’ve said something, but you didn’t. whether Art knew it or not, both you and he wanted him to stay, and keep watching.

At some point during that interaction, you weren’t sure when exactly, Art had shed his pants and underwear. He was dragging the tip up and down your slit, up and down, stopping every few seconds to slap your clit with it. When your eyes finally landed on his length, it made your jaw drop. He was big, bigger than you’d seen before, he was long and girthy with veins running along the bottom of it. 

He slowly slides into you, admiring the look of pure bliss on your face. He’d never seen anyone look so angelic. The closest comparison he could make was how Patrick looked when he’d first given him a blow job. He wouldn’t call the look on Patrick's face angelic perse, but it was hot, really hot. The reminder of that, and the way you’ve begun clenching around him, spurs him into you. His hips snapping into yours, his heavy balls hitting your ass with each thrust. It was unlike anything either of you had felt before. 

I want him to join.

You weren’t sure that the words had actually left your mouth until the blond on top of you stopped his thrusts, looking into your eyes for a moment. 

“That what you want, baby?” He murmurs, kissing sloppily up and down your neck, shivers running through your entire body at his touch. His fingers falling to your clit, flicking at it. The pleasure was almost enough to make you forget that he’d even asked a question. 

Almost. 

“Please,” Even in your fucked out state, you couldn’t help but want more. 

“Come on, Zweig. You heard her.” Patrick grins, hopping to his feet, although slightly hesitant. He wasn’t sure where to go, or what to do. But his nerves dissolved the moment Art turned around, and gave him that look, one that he knew meant that everything would be okay. It meant that he just needed to get over himself and have a good time, everything would work out. After that he’s on the move towards you, giving Art a harsh slap to the ass as he goes past him, laughing when Art swats back at him. 

Patrick all but flies onto the bed, having kicked his underwear off the moment he stood up, and his shirt is long gone, a mix of yours, his, and Arts clothes are scattered around the hotel room, sure to have lost at least one thing. But none of you had it in you to care, too overwhelmed with pleasure. Your mouth opens before he’s even fully on the bed, but he gets the message, quickly positioning his tip in front of your mouth, thrusting a few times before losing control and fucking your throat. 

The three of you move in tandem for minutes, or maybe it was hours, Art would thrust into you, rubbing your clit with his fingers, while Patrick would be pulling himself out of your mouth at the same time. It felt as though this was a regular occurrence, as though it were normal. And god did you hope it would become a normal thing. The three of you, together, making each other feel good. 

Tapping Patricks thigh lightly, you hum happily when he pulls out of your mouth, giggling at how quickly he begins to check and make sure you’re okay. 

“What? What’s wrong? Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” The words come out of his mouth at lightning speed and it’s difficult for you to understand, but Art had and his thrusts slowed to a stop, hands leaving your body, giving you a questioning look as if repeating everything his friend had just said. 

“I’m fine baby,” And then you say something neither of them could quite hear. 

“Gotta speak up for us, sweetheart. Can’t do what you want us to do otherwise.” That comes from Patrick, Art nodding along with him. 

“Want you two to kiss.” The words fly out of your lips and you’re suddenly shy, pressing your face into Patricks thigh, nipping at it softly. 

Both men smirk at you before making eye contact with each other, giving a subtle nod. 

“Well c’mon man, you know how I like it.”

The combination of Arts words, his sudden thrusts and Patrick taking it upon himself to flick at your clit, push you over the edge. The power of your orgasm makes your legs shake, your mind empty of anything this isn’t you, Patrick, or Art. 

They’re still kissing, it’s all teeth and tongue and spit. It’s messy, and it only stops long enough for Arts mouth to fall open, moans spilling out as he comes inside of you, hot spurts of his come flooding your insides, leaving a white ring around the base of his cock as he fucks you through both of your orgasms. 

At this point, Patrick has taken a step back, and is watching again. He’s stroking himself with one hand, squeezing just right and out of nowhere, Art reaches out, cupping the dark haired man's balls, tugging and rubbing on them just the way Patrick likes. The added pleasure sends him crashing over the edge, he barely has the time to move and aim his cum to where you and Art are connected, spilling himself all over your cunt and Arts cock. 

Art pulls out and the three of you fall into a pile of heavy breathing, sweat, spit, and cum on the beds pushed into the middle of the room. Once you all catch your breath, Patrick is the first to speak. 

“Wow.” It was simple, but it made you all burst out laughing. 

“Wow, indeed.” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his pec, turning to do the same to Art. 

“That was fucking hot.” Arts words make you all giggle yet again. 

“Okay,” Patrick leans you into Art and pushes himself off of the bed, “‘m gonna get you two cleaned up, be right back.” He reassures you, hearing you whine at losing his presence. He comes back with a warm washcloth in hand, and a small cup of water in his other. He hands the water to Art motioning for him to take a drink and then give you some as well, while he bends at the waist, resting his knees on the floor and taking the cloth to your core, cleaning you as gently as he could before moving onto Art. Tossing the cloth to the corner of the room he pulls both you and Art into his embrace, enjoying the quiet for a moment before you break the silence. 

“Round two? Whoever makes me cum harder gets to fuck me here first.” You smile slyly, placing your hand on your ass, giggling when Patrick snatches you from Arts hold, muttering something about how he ‘got you first last time and that it’s his turn now.’

[screampied]

hii i just wanted to say that your writing is SO GOOD!! i saw that your requests are open so i’d love to see a hiromi (jjk) x reader fanfic because i haven’t seen nearly enough smut fanfics of him 😔💔 would lowkey love to see soft!dom hiromi or switch!hiromi but it’s your choice 🙏🏻🙏🏻 thanks for reading this, obviously if you’re not comfy with it then feel free to ignore this req!

❤︎ ໋𓈒 hiromi talking you through your first orgasm

warnings. fem! reader, soft dom! hiromi, cowgirl, praise, overstim, mdni.

an. thank YOUUUU SM !! <3

“hey, sweetheart don’t be shy,” he murmurs against your neck. you intake a sharp breath with your arms thrown around him. he stares at you with a soft smile, brushing a thumb against your cheek before planting a wet kiss against your mouth. “you’re close, aren’t you?”

“yeah…” you whined, burying your face into the crook of his name. higuruma lowly chuckles against your ear, he’s stuffed deep inside you, and you’re barely moving your hips—you shook, feeling the bundle of nerves all throughout your body commence into a sudden electrifying surge.

albeit, he was very much patient with you.

you melted into his embrace, gradually rocking your hips, and he softly drags your waist further against him. a raspy grunt leaving his mouth before he purrs. “mhm…easy, there we go, good girl. don’t rush. just like that. lean into me, baby. i got you.”

his words warmed its way into your heart and you let off a moan from the utter thickness of his dick stretching out your walls.

despite his girth easily outlining its way inside of your pussy, it felt good. he finds it cute the way you tremble against his touch, your legs trembling above him. “h—hiromi,” you panted, your voice being a bit more whiney — the coldness of his watch material dances against your skin, and it makes you shudder in desperate rapture. “i feel it, ‘s gonna.. ‘m gonna cum.”

“you are,” he whispers, kissing the inner part of your neck. “so be a good girl and give it to me, okay? nice ‘n slow, focus on your breathing for me baby.”

your hips bucked and bucked against higuruma in free will. eyes rolling, nearly drooling. you don’t think you’ve ever experienced a feeling like this. intimate, sure but you’ve always found it hard to please yourself. let alone find it embarrassing to even think of touching yourself.

alas, the moment you asked your lover, higuruma.. he was more than happy to comply. he wanted you to feel good, and that you were.

your mouth tasted a bit salty, and your nails dug into the thick fabric of his lazily half-on tux. higuruma smelt enchanting.

his cologne was just something you could never get enough of. the way he softly ghosts his fingertips against your bare ass.

so soft, it tickled for a brief moment before he brings his fingers towards your waist, outlining your curves — in his eyes, you were nothing more than a perfect girl to him.

“such a pretty body,” he utters, a groan nearly slipping past his lips. your head remained hidden into the side of his neck, gingerly nipping against his skin and he chuckles. “—and an even more playful girl.”

“hiromi, it feels— feels…”

you whimper, languidly leaning into his touch. each time your words got cut off by the sensations of your own cunt, your mind went fuzzy.

you could barely comprehend anything. buried into the hilt, he’s sinking into you with such gentle yet full throttle. “i know, baby. i feel it too. you’re getting me all…sensitive myself.”

his words made you throb, the way he’d pitch his voice and give you a teasing grin — you studied his facial expressions.

his pretty hooked nose that you’d kiss all over, the small dimples stretching near the corners of his lips unintentionally whenever he spoke a sentence. it always went on, higuruma treated you like a doll.

“just let go for me, princess. don’t gotta be shy to get a little filthy around me.” he whispers, kissing near the outer lobe of your ear.

you left off a soft moan against his ear, and the hairs beneath his neck stood up just from your voice. you felt your thigh start to shake just a bit as you steadily rutted your hips against him again and again and again. “oh, what—? you tryin' to give me a kiss, baby?”

he chuckles, watching you tilt your face forward, just missing his lips due to your eyes closed and he smiles. “come here, princess.”

you moaned into his mouth, swathing your arms around him and his lips curve into a warm smile. you tasted sweet…

indescribable yet entirely sugary. higuruma’s tongue grazes against your own before you started to jolt and shake, feeling it. he runs a hand down your back to soothe you before you’re cumming, whining.

higuruma shushes you, parting your legs for a brief moment before uttering once he moves his lips away.

“i know, i know. relax,” and he presses you against his chest to kiss your forehead. “good girl. such a good pretty girl,” and he softly strokes the back of your head — dick still twitching inside of you. you’re murmuring inaudible nothings of straight babbles and he smiles to himself. “that was just one orgasm, i wonder how’d you be if i pull another one out of you, princess.”

[superhoeva]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘: 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐓

main masterlist | series masterlist | tag

⬩ pairing(s) gomez inspired!simon "ghost" riley x morticia inspired!fem!reader

⬩ warning(s) language, spiders, devoted husband!simon (seriously, he's absolutely obsessed with you!), pregnancy (mention), dad!simon, mom!reader

⬩ author's note spooky season might be over but it's always halloween at the riley house! saw an addams family gif a little while ago and had to go back and watch the sitcom version from '64. i ended up not being able to stop imagining simon in a relationship like gomez and morticia's–passionate and completely devoted to each other and their family! i hope you enjoy this as much as i did writing it, as there is much more of the riley family to come! (lovely divider is by @wethairjoel)

⬩ word count 1.4k

You’re uncomfortable here. Simon can feel it without even having to look at you.

The lights are too bright in the headmaster’s office, as are all the colors decorating the walls around you. No wonder his little Raven comes home with a frown that reminds him of yours and stories that make the entire house groan.

It’s when you shift for the second time, sniffing and rolling your stiff shoulders, that Simon places a warm palm on the back of your neck. The man watches you carefully as you all but melt into the touch, sinking against his hand with a soft sigh. It takes you a moment but you finally turn your head to meet his eyes, a silent thank you oozing from them in the quiet. His response–a squeeze of his hand–works well to settle you.

“Just a little longer, my darling,” your husband murmurs softly, not having to lean very far in his chair to plant a lingering kiss on the shell of your ear. He takes in a long inhale, the smell of you somewhat calming his frayed nerves. He breathes you in once more before kissing you again, this time on your jaw. “Then we’ll pick up our girl and leave this fuckin' hell they call a school.”

Simon’s lips drag nicely against you as he speaks. Slipping against you with light pecks, and staying there so long that it glides your hand into his grasp without you even noticing.

“I wonder what she’s done now. Hopefully something only a little unfortunate…” you sigh out, Simon laughing shortly against you as his mind fills with all the possible troubles his firstborn can cause. She takes after both you and Simon, he finds. Wickedly smart, fearless, and holds just enough disdain to make it the rest of the world’s problem.

Oh, your little Raven. Named after the blackbird that landed on the window seal the foggy morning you found out you were pregnant nearly seven years ago.

Neither of you bother to look when the door creaks open behind you, as Headmaster Archer is no one to be impressed by. A microscopic grin, however, cracks your lips when you hear his steps hesitate at the sight of you and your husband settled in front of his desk. It’s gone quicker than it came when you remind yourself where you are; in a little man’s stupid office for a reason you already know you’ll despise.

The footsteps resume after a quiet sigh, Headmaster Archer plastering an obviously fake smile as his greeting. He has to ease down in his chair, still not used to how harsh the pitch-black hue of your and Simon’s clothing clashes with the rest of the school.

“Mr. and Mrs. Riley… always a pleasure.”

“I wish we could say the same,” Simon rumbles back with an unimpressed look, the index finger of his free hand absentmindedly drawing swirls on the back of your hand. “Can we get on with it? ‘Ve got places to be.”

“Don’t we all,” Headmaster Archer chuckles rather nervously. The smile on his face drops into something uneasy at the displeased expressions on your and Simon’s faces. He gathers himself with a pathetic clearing of his throat and straightening of some blank, unimportant papers. He doesn’t even attempt to look at you, knowing that his bones will shake hard enough to shatter if he were to do such a thing. Instead, the headmaster settles for a few meek glances in Simon’s direction. “Alright. Well, I’ll try to make this as simple as possible; there was an… incident that occurred in Raven’s class today.”

Even with Simon still gripping just above your back, you grow painfully rigid. Your question leaves you, hot and quick.

“What incident?”

Headmaster Archer swallows thickly, still unable to flick his eyes your way. “It happened during today’s show and tell–”

“Look at my wife when you speak to her, Headmaster.”

The man behind the desk nearly jumps at Simon’s words. They ring darkly in the room, and the headmaster has to wring his shaking fingers hard to gain the courage to finally do as Simon commands. He doesn’t remember how to talk until an arched eyebrow from you has his voice croaking out.

“Tarantulas. She brought tarantulas–three of them, all as big and hairy as a rat–for show and tell. Pulled them out like they were nothing, then tried to pass them around. Her instructor was barely able to reign them up in all the chaos they caused. Children were crying. The adults were shaking. In all my years, I’ve never seen anything like it…”

The ramble trails off into nothing, allowing you and Simon a moment of quiet while the headmaster wipes at his face with a cheap handkerchief. God, you two make him sweat, and not in a good way.

Tilting your head, you peek over at your husband. He’s already looking at you, face reading ‘For fuck’s sake.’ Licking your lips, your eyes cut back to Headmaster Archer. 

“Not to be obtuse,Headmaster, but I don’t see what your issue is. All she wanted was to show her fellow pupils her favorite pets. Is that really so bad?”

“It is when the pets are spiders, Mrs. Riley. Not just spiders, but dangerous ones that, frankly, a child as young as Raven should not have access to.”

The headmaster has no idea where the things spilling out of his mouth are coming from. Maybe it’s the heat of the room making him a little braver. Maybe it’s because he knows he’ll see Raven’s spiders in his nightmares tonight, you and Simon standing along with them happily while they eat him alive. 

Regret soon washes over him faster than he can think. Even more so when he sees Simon, in all his dark clothes and scars and thick muscles, clench his jaw and shift in his seat like he’s thinking about hitting the man. Coincidentally, you’re the one moving first, giving the hand of a seething Simon a tender squeeze before you uncross your legs to stand.

You don’t have to move any closer than you are now to say what you want. The anger dripping from your tone is sharp enough to slice at him as it always does.

You’re all sinister smiles as you promise the man. “If you upset my daughter again, you’ll have a lot more than a few spiders to worry about, Headmaster.”

With that, you’re gone. Nothing more from you other than one last glare at the headmaster and a sweet kiss on Simon’s cheek before your heels click out of the horrid office. If Simon wasn’t so miffed, he’d remember to swivel his head to watch your hips as you go.

Unlucky for the headmaster, Simon does not swivel or admire. All he does is stare something horrid into the man across from him, eyes so hot they could bore a hole into the sweaty head of Archer if Simon wished it hard enough. 

The two remain in that position for a good while–Headmaster Archer doing all he can not to evaporate into a puddle of fear and Simon nearly wishing the man dead for making his girls upset. It’s around five minutes later when a small voice sounds at the office entrance.

“Papa, can we leave now? Mama’s ready.”

Simon rips away his glare, making sure to soften his eyes as he looks back at his daughter. He can tell she’s a little sad, mostly annoyed, as she cradles her tarantulas in a see-through cage. 

“Of course,” he coos without a second look to the headmaster, raising from his chair and moving to lift his daughter into his arms. He kisses her forehead, arms encircling her to ensure she doesn’t fall. “And you did nothing wrong, my girl. Do you hear me? Let’s just make sure to keep our pets at home from now on, yes? These silly little people don’t know how to appreciate them like you do.”

“Yes, Papa,” little Raven nods dutifully, Simon rewarding her with another kiss on the cheek and rub on her back. “Can we stop and catch crickets for my spiders on the way home? They’ve had a rough day…”

Simon huffs a laugh, glancing down at the cage of spiders with a short smile. He looks back up at his daughter and winks, exiting the office and leaving behind a shaking, sweating, helpless Headmaster Archer.

“Anything for you, my little devil.”

VOTE IN THE LATEST POLL (NOV 4-5)

© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚

[yuujispinkhair]

I WANNA BE YOUR ENDGAME – Chapter 05

🏒❤️ A Hockey Romance feat. modern!Sukuna

Pairing: HockeyPlayer!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: College AU, Hockey AU, fluff + smut Playlist: I wanna be your Endgame Word Count: 5k Warnings: 18+, smut, cigarettes. Fuckbuddies to lovers. Reader is a creative writing student. Sukuna is an ice hockey player + history student. This story will have approximately 10 chapters. Minors don't interact. Header by me. Divider @/benkeibear

MASTERLIST

You spend the Sunday in bed, trying to watch a TV show to shut up your mind, which keeps coming up with all too vivid images of what Sukuna and you did in the locker room. But you can't focus on the show. Instead, your gaze wanders distractedly through your room and brushes over the white, too-large hoodie that is draped over the backrest of your chair. Sukuna's hoodie. And you are mentally back where you started: In the locker room on Sukuna's lap.

You groan and bury your face in your hands. You will have to go to your classes again tomorrow, which means there is a high chance you will bump into a certain pink-haired, tattooed hockey player. But you have no idea how to act around Sukuna after this! Hopefully, you won't run into him, at least for a few days!

But of course, it doesn't work like that. You haven't even started your first class of the week before you see Sukuna again. He is leaning against one of the vending machines in the hallway that leads to your creative writing class, talking to one of his teammates while looking gorgeous as always, with his pink hair slicked back, tight black jeans that accentuate his muscular thighs, and a white team hoodie, just like the one that is waiting for you in your room.

You duck behind a large plant, groaning inwardly at how insane you must look to everyone around you. But you simply cannot face Sukuna right now! Just one look at him brings back the memories of those firm muscles under your fingers and how those large, calloused hands trailed all over your skin, and how good that thick cock felt inside you.

You make a strangled noise as you try to determine whether Sukuna already saw you or whether you can still turn around and run the other way. You are about to give in to the second option. But it's already too late.

"Hey, princess!"

You draw in a sharp breath as you clutch your books to your chest and slowly turn around again. Sukuna is casually strolling over to you, his hands shoved into the pockets of his black jeans, his typical arrogant smirk on his handsome, tattooed face.

You exhale slowly, lifting your head and straightening your shoulders, trying to will your embarrassment away as Sukuna stops in front of you.

Act cool, act cool, act cool!

"Hey, Ice Prince."

Sukuna's eyes sparkle in amusement, and he laughs that sexy low laugh and runs a tattooed hand through his pink hair as he cocks his head,

"Prince? I'd rather think I am the Ice King. But of course, I can be anything you want, princess."

Suddenly, he is so close to you again, towering over you, tall and big, and your back bumps against the wall behind you. Your heart is racing wildly as you look at Sukuna. At his lips precisely. Lips that lift in that sexy, rude smirk. Lips that you know feel so hot and soft against yours when they kiss you. Your breath hitches. And Sukuna laughs softly.

He leans down, his sexy cologne filling your nose, and his warm breath is on your neck when he whispers in your ear,

"Do I make you nervous?"

You grit your teeth and bring a hand up to push weakly against his broad chest, not really trying to push him away (not that you could move him an inch anyway), but in a helpless attempt to cover up your embarrassment. Why does he have to be like this? Why isn't he nervous, too? You shake your head, eyes burning into Sukuna's,

"No, of course not!"

But Sukuna huffs, leaning even closer, his voice full of smug amusement,

"Liar."

He smirks at you, his maroon eyes filled with a far too knowing look, when he adds in a teasing voice,

"Why do you act so flustered then? Like a scared little bunny. Is it maybe because you can't stop thinking about what we did in the locker room? How you bounced on my cock and how my cum was dripping down your hand and..."

You make a squeaking sound and reach up to press your hand over Sukuna's mouth to shut him up. And he laughs. You feel his lips move against your palm, feel his smirk, and then something warm and wet.

You jump, and your gaze snaps to Sukuna's eyes. He is staring right at you, a teasing, amused spark in his eyes while he is licking your palm.

There's another slow, teasing flick of his tongue, and much to your horror, it sends bolts of electricity and desire through you, making you press your thighs together involuntarily. But at least you finally come to your senses and quickly pull your hand away, wiping it on your jeans while you roll your eyes at Sukuna.

"Stop it!"

Sukuna grins broadly at you, his tattooed face still full of mischief, but at least he lowers his voice when he says,

"It's fine, princess. I enjoyed our little locker room fuck, too."

You restrain yourself from pressing your hand on his mouth again, and Sukuna adds smoothly,

"How about we make this a regular thing? It doesn't have to be exclusive to the locker room. We could also use a bed next time, or a shower, or anywhere else you like. You and I get along, and the sex is good, so why not have some fun together? It doesn't have to be a big deal. What do you say?"

You stare at him, your pulse racing and your head spinning at his offer, unable to form a response.

Sukuna smirks and touches your shoulder, letting his large hand trail down your arm until he reaches the pocket of your cardigan, where your phone is sitting. Sukuna pulls it out and holds it out to you,

"Unlock it."

You do as he says as if on autopilot and watch as Sukuna types in his number before handing the phone back to you. He takes a step away from you, slinging his backpack casually over one broad shoulder, and jerks his chin at you,

"Think about my offer, princess, and hit me up if you crave a little fun in your life."

He winks at you before he turns around and strolls away, leaving you standing there leaning bonelessly against the wall with your heart beating up to your throat and your mind whirling.

Did Sukuna just offer me a fuck-buddies arrangement?

This new development turns you into a distracted mess for the rest of the day. You get into trouble with your grumpy professor once again when you fail to reply to her question because your mind is too occupied thinking about Sukuna and what to do about this whole arrangement he is offering you.

You drop your books and forget your jacket and curse yourself for being such a flustered idiot just because some hot hockey boy blessed you with the best dick of your life and is asking for a repeat!

Get a grip!

But even when you are back in your dorm, you can't stop obsessing over this whole situation with Sukuna. You keep playing with your phone, unlocking it to stare at the new contact.

Sukuna 🏒👑

Your lips twitch when you see the hockey stick and crown emoji next to his name.

Your fingers hover over the message icon several times, but you always lock your screen again before you can write anything.

You throw your phone onto your bed with a heavy sigh. You are too flustered and too shy to text Sukuna and agree to whatever it is he is offering. But at the same time, there's this excited tingle in your veins that screams at you to text him and just enjoy that star player dick.

Isn't this the kind of exciting thing you dreamed about happening to you when coming to this college? And now you get it presented to you on a silver platter, but you are too chicken to take it?

You groan and bury your burning face in your hands. Maybe you can make a decision tomorrow. You need some time to think, or rather overthink.

You manage to avoid Sukuna the whole next day during classes, feeling like a complete fool with the way you sneak through the hallways, always checking if you see his pink hair somewhere. Your lunchtime is spent in your classic literature classroom, munching on some sandwich you hastily prepared this morning. Hiding away like a coward.

You feel relieved when your last class of the day is over. Now you just have to head to the library to get some research material for a new assignment, and then you can go back to the safety of your dorm, where you can lock yourself in your room and obsess in peace over a phone contact with a hockey stick and a crown.

You roll your eyes at yourself, and the librarian tells you to stop giving her such mean looks. Your eyes widen, and you hastily apologize, fleeing towards the section she told you the book you are looking for is.

The old floorboards creak beneath your feet, the smell of old books fills your nostrils, and you feel at least part of the familiar comfort the library always offers you. You scan the bookshelves, looking for the number the librarian gave you. And sigh in annoyance when you finally spot the title you were looking for.

Of course, it has to be on one of the higher shelves, and you can't see a ladder anywhere! You get on your tiptoes, bracing yourself on the shelf with one hand while you try to reach the book you want. You curse softly when your fingertips barely manage to graze the wooden shelf on which the book is standing.

And suddenly a familiar smug, low voice speaks up behind you,

"Need help, princess?"

You whip your head around, looking over your shoulder at the very person you have been avoiding all day. He has that typical, lazy smirk on his tattooed face, and there's an amused glint in his maroon eyes.

"Sukuna?"

You blink at him in surprise, and Sukuna's grin grows broader.

He steps closer, closing the distance between you so his body presses lightly against your back, making your heart race like crazy. Even if you wanted to, you wouldn't be able to run from him anymore with the way you are trapped between the bookshelf and Sukuna's tall, muscular body. You gulp hard, pulse fluttering at the feeling of Sukuna pressed against you and the enticing smell of his cologne and the cigarette smoke on his clothes filling your nose.

Sukuna reaches above your head, effortlessly plucking the book from the shelf.

He doesn't pull away immediately but stays right there, pressed lightly against you, his buff body caging you in while his warm breath brushes over your earlobe. His velvety voice has dropped to a low, seductive murmur that makes goosebumps appear on your arms,

"I haven't seen you all day. Where were you hiding, princess?"

You huff, trying to sound casual, but you cringe inwardly when you hear how breathy your voice comes out,

"What do you mean? I wasn't hiding."

Sukuna finally steps away, and you let out a breath and turn around to look at him. He is holding the book you need in his large hand, and you reach for it, but you see a shit-eating grin spread over Sukuna's face, and even as you reach out, you know it means trouble.

And, of course, right before you can grab the book, Sukuna lifts his arm above his head, letting your book dangle from his long tattooed fingers out of reach for you.

"Uh uh, not so fast."

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms in front of your chest,

"What are you doing? Give me the book!"

Sukuna laughs softly, smirking at you in that rude and sexy way that infuriates you and turns you on at the same time. He shakes his head and drawls in a low, amused voice,

"I'll give you your book if you promise to see me tonight. My dorm, 8 p.m. We can just talk if you want. Or we can do more than that. It's your choice, princess."

Heat throbs between your thighs as your mind provides you with an image of the two of you on Sukuna's bed, naked bodies moving rhythmically against each other. Your hands trailing over Sukuna's smooth tattooed skin, your fingers feeling up his buff muscles... You draw in a sharp breath and look up at him with big eyes and a face that feels way too hot.

"I..."

Sukuna laughs softly, his cat-like eyes gazing deeply into yours, completely shameless, far too arrogant, but damn, it drives you crazy in a very good way. One corner of his lips lifts in that sexy smirk, and he cocks his head,

"Is that a yes?"

It's not fair how charming and sexy he looks and how he is tempting you with a good time. The kind of good time you really want. The thought of meeting him again, knowing what it will lead to, still makes you flustered and feel like some shy little virgin, but you really like what he is offering you. And so you nod and mutter a soft,

"Y.. yes."

And Sukuna looks so pleased.

"Hmm, smart girl."

He leans down, his grin downright devilish now, and his breath brushes over your neck, making your skin tingle everywhere. And it gets even worse when Sukuna's tongue darts out and licks a slow, wet trail up your neck while you feel his rude smirk against your skin.

You screech and push at his broad chest,

"Hey! Don't drool on me!"

But you can't hide how playful and amused your voice sounds. You shake your head and laugh breathlessly as you look up at Sukuna's grinning face and he laughs and pulls away. He lowers his hand, holding the book out for you to take.

You quickly snatch it from his tattooed fingers. But Sukuna is fast. It must be his hockey-player-reflexes. He manages to grab your hand before you can pull away, holding onto it while his maroon eyes gaze deeply into yours.

"8 p.m. at my dorm. Don't keep me waiting, princess."

He doesn't wait for an answer but lets go of you, leaving you standing in the middle of the library with wobbly knees and wide eyes.

You are a nervous, excited, giggly mess when you make your way over campus and to Sukuna's dorm.

You feel embarrassed and exposed when you slip through the front door of the large dorm building, thinking that everyone who sees you must know exactly what you are up to. As if you are holding a blinking red sign that reads, "I am going to have sex with your star player."

But at the same time, your veins are singing with excitement. You feel almost high. You are meeting a super hot hockey player/the resident bad boy to get into a fuckbuddy arrangement with him or something like that! It's the kind of crazy thing you would have never thought you would ever get to experience.

You, who were always too scared, too anxious, too careful to experience anything exciting. But somehow, Sukuna made that whole cardhouse tumble down so easily, and suddenly, you feel so light, with your pulse racing and your whole body buzzing.

Your heart is pounding wildly in your chest when you reach the Itadori twins' apartment. You need a moment before you finally make up the courage to lift your hand and knock on the door. The seconds tick away, and your breath comes out in nervous, quick huffs as you wait for Sukuna to let you in.

Finally, the door swings open, and Sukuna stands in the doorway in low-hanging grey sweatpants, a black t-shirt, and that damn boyish smirk on his handsome face.

"Hey, my lucky charm."

He waves you inside, and you slip off your shoes and follow Sukuna into the apartment. It's bigger than the one you and Nobara share, which is probably a bonus the beloved hockey players get. The living area and open kitchen look clean but a bit chaotic, with hockey equipment, weights, and other gym stuff strewn everywhere. A red hoodie is hanging over the backrest of the couch, and various video games and manga are scattered all over the couch table next to several empty protein shake containers.

"Ignore the mess. I just came back from practice and didn't have time to clean. It's not my mess, by the way. My brother can't keep a clean room."

You smile to yourself, thinking that it's kind of cute that big bad hockey star Sukuna apologizes for how his living room looks. But before you can tease him about it, Sukuna already pushes open the door to his bedroom and ushers you inside.

It's surprisingly neat compared to the mess in the shared living area. The first thing you see is Sukuna's bed, which is actually made and suits him really well with the all-black bedding. On the left side of the room is a window and a desk with neatly stacked books. Above it is a shelf with trophies and next to that, a big pinboard with some hockey tactics written in Sukuna's elegant handwriting and a few pictures of Yuuji and Sukuna and an old man with a face shape that looks very similar to Sukuna's and Yuuji's, so you assume it must be their grandpa.

You look curiously around the rest of the room. A flag with the team crest is hanging on the wall behind the bed, and on the right side of the room, you can see a half-opened closet. The clothes you can spot in it are all black, with the exception of some white and red, which you assume must be Tigers merch.

A stack of cigarette packages and some energy drinks sit on a shelf next to a whole array of hair products (cherry flavored, like you already assumed), as well as several big bottles of cologne and a smaller bottle of black nail polish. You smile to yourself.

Vain idiot.

"So, did you think about my offer? About our little arrangement? You okay with it, princess?"

Sukuna's low voice interrupts your nosiness, and you whip around to look at him, feeling flustered again. You shrug and tug nervously on your fingers,

"What does it include exactly?"

Sukuna laughs and shrugs,

"Anything you want. We just have fun."

He has taken a step closer to you, and his low voice is smooth and velvety like a caress. You feel nervous, intimidated, and overwhelmed by the way your mind screams at you: You had sex with him! He was inside you. And you know you want it again. You are in his room. You just have to reach out and touch him!

A shaky laugh comes out of your mouth, but you nod and smile nervously at Sukuna,

"Okay, sounds good."

You gulp hard and lick your lips. They feel too dry suddenly as you look up at Sukuna's tattooed face, too aware of how small the room seems all of a sudden, and how good he smells, and how tall and strong he is. You add shyly,

"So... um, how do we go about this?"

You gesture helplessly at the bed and at Sukuna, suddenly ready to just run from his room and hide away forever. But Sukuna laughs softly and cocks his head, his face softer than usual, as if he feels bad for you.

He puts a hand on your waist.

"No need to be so nervous, princess. It's easy. Just come here, and I assure you, you will know what to do. It worked really fine the last time, don't you agree? Our chemistry is good."

He is right.

The moment Sukuna wraps an arm around you and pulls you against him, it's really easy.

Your hands automatically wrap around his neck, and you get on your tiptoes, pressing your body against Sukuna's, sighing when you feel his warm, firm body against yours. Your lips crash into his, kissing him hard as if to make up for your shyness a moment ago. And Sukuna kisses you back, his tongue licking hungrily into your mouth, both of you instantly overcome with the same craving you felt in the locker room.

Sukuna's large, warm hands are on your hips, steering you to his bed, while your lips trail from his mouth down his jaw, kissing his sexy tattoos before they close around his Adam's apple and suck on it, smiling when you hear the soft growl coming from Sukuna.

You tumble onto Sukuna's bed, and everything feels completely natural. As if you have never done anything other than make out with Sukuna. It's as easy as breathing.

Your hands slip so naturally under Sukuna's t-shirt and explore his abs and pecs before you tug on the soft cotton shirt, and Sukuna helps you pull it off.

It's the most natural thing ever to lift your arms above your head when Sukuna tells you to do so, letting him undress you too, pulling off your shirt, and then opening your bra expertly with one hand. He lets your bra drop to the floor before he replaces it with his large tattooed hands, cupping your tits and brushing his thumbs over your hardened nipples while his lips find yours in a sloppy, wet, open-mouthed tongue kiss.

From that moment on, the only thing you know are passionate, wet kisses and wandering hands, tearing at each other's clothes until you are both naked and writhing against each other on Sukuna's bed. You don't have to think. You just have to feel. And it's really as easy as he said. No shame, no worries, just pleasure.

Soon you are on all fours, your ass up, your face pressed into Sukuna's pillow, which smells so intoxicatingly like him. And you mewl loudly into that pillow because Sukuna dicks you down so good that you feel like you will melt.

He is kneeling behind you, one foot placed on the mattress, his large, strong hands on your hips as he takes you from behind, fucking you hard and fast and so deep. Dominant, in control, and knowing exactly how to fuck you right.

His strong hands hold your hips tightly, pulling you closer again anytime you try to get away when you think the pleasure becomes too much. But Sukuna won't have it and just holds you in place while his sexy, low voice tells you,

"Stay here, princess. I'm gonna make you feel so fucking good. Just be my good girl and let go. You can be as messy and loud in my bed as you want."

His words drag a loud, desperate cry from your lips as Sukuna's hips hump against your ass and your swollen pussy, fucking his thick cock deep into you, hitting your sweet spot in a maddeningly delicious rhythm.

You feel tears run down your cheeks from how good you are getting fucked, and you do as Sukuna says. You relax and let him take full control.

You are a babbling, sobbing mess, but it's just like Sukuna said, you know, here with him, you don't have to be embarrassed or shy. You eagerly lift your ass, pushing back against Sukuna's body, taking his thick cock deeper, begging him for more, whining loudly anytime his thick mushroom head hits your sweet spot.

And Sukuna laughs and moans, and it's so sexy that it makes your pussy clench around his gorgeous, talented cock, making him groan that sexy breathless "fuuuck" that drives you absolutely wild.

The way Sukuna fucks you with those deep, hard strokes makes you almost delirious. His gorgeous cock is giving you such a fluttery feeling in your stomach and in your pussy, growing more blissful every moment.

You let out a high-pitched squeal when you cum, muffling the noise by pressing your face deeper into Sukuna's pillow. And Sukuna fucks you through it, groaning in that sexy low voice,

"Fuck yeah, princess. Cum on my fucking cock!"

Your breath hitches, and you scream and kick your legs, cumming so hard and intense that you think you will lose your mind.

And Sukuna groans and grabs your wrists with his large rough hands, keeping them in place as he pushes you down on the bed with his heavy body, mounting you, fucking you into the mattress. He snaps his hips faster, fucking his twitching cock into you at a maddening pace that makes the headboard of the bed bang loudly against the wall.

You whimper needily at the feeling of Sukuna's heavy weight on top of you and the switch of position it brings with it. The earlier doggy turned into a deep, intense prone bone that makes Sukuna's cock push even deeper into your sensitive pussy.

One of Sukuna's large hands grabs your chin roughly, turning your head to the side so he can give you nasty deep tongue kisses while he fucks you with those deep, intense strokes that grow harder and become more erratic as he nears his orgasm.

You mewl under him when you hear him growl and feel him push his cock deep inside you. And then Sukuna stills his movements, cumming inside you, fucking his cum into the condom he put on this time.

His hand around your wrists squeezes them tightly. His breath is loud and harsh, and a low, sexy moan falls from his lips only centimeters from your lips before Sukuna kisses you again.

A breathless laugh escapes his lips, and you feel his smirk against your mouth as Sukuna starts to move again, slow, shallow thrusts, fucking his whole orgasm into you while you mewl softly beneath him and squeeze your pussy around him.

With a last, teasing flick of his tongue, Sukuna pulls away.

He rolls off you and lets his heavy body fall onto the mattress next to you, a broad, satisfied grin on his tattooed face and a low laugh falling from his lips.

One of his large hands lands on your naked ass giving it a squeeze, and then his tattooed fingers trail slowly up and down your thigh, caressing it as if you are a beloved pet he is pleased with.

You still feel dazed when Sukuna gets up after a moment, shamelessly walking around his room completely naked, throwing the condom into the trash bin before he bends down to pick up his black boxer briefs from his bedroom floor.

He pulls them up lazily with one tattooed hand as he walks over to his desk, making you lick your lips as you watch his gorgeous muscles flex while he moves. He grabs his cigarettes and a lighter from his desk and opens the window next to it, leaning casually against the window frame as he lights a cigarette and brings it to his lips, inhaling the smoke with a soft little hum.

Sukuna turns his head, looking at you with heavy-lidded maroon eyes and a lazy smirk.

"See, I told you it's easy."

And you laugh and roll on your side, pulling Sukuna's blanket over your naked body, feeling exhilarated and a bit dreamy after such amazing sex.

"Yeah, you were right."

Sukuna smirks, getting that smug expression on his tattooed face again.

"I know. I am always right."

He turns his face to blow his cigarette smoke out the window while you groan in playful annoyance.

You walk out of Sukuna's bedroom fifteen minutes later, after you both got dressed again, and Sukuna showed you the various medals and trophies on the small shelf above his desk and explained what he got them for. It felt less awkward than after your locker room fuck, though it still makes you a bit shy to just talk to him like you are friends after he was balls-deep in you and you cried into his pillow from how good he fucked you.

Sukuna is close behind you, bumping into you when you stop short as your gaze lands on Yuuji.

Sukuna's twin is lounging on the couch in the shared living area, his feet resting on the couch table while he watches TV. Yuuji turns his head to greet you and smiles his big sunshine smile at you, honey eyes wandering from you to his brother and back again.

And you smile back awkwardly, feeling your face get hot again,

"Hey, Yuuji."

How long has he been here? Did he hear you? Does he know what you did in Sukuna's room?

You quickly flee towards the door, but before you can leave, Yuuji laughs happily and says,

"So Kuna found you! He was complaining the whole day because he hadn't seen you. I'm glad you came over!"

You blink and look back over your shoulder just in time to see a protein bar getting thrown at Yuuji's head while Sukuna yells at his brother to shut the fuck up.

And you quickly slip out the door, grinning from ear to ear as you hear the twins bickering. Your steps feel incredibly light as you jog down the staircase, snickering to yourself the whole way to the front door.

I FELT THE FLUTTERY FEELING IN MY STOMACH AND MY PUSSY TOO 😭😭💗💗

Here we are in a fuckbuddies arrangement with our sexy hockey boy ;) Also, big applause to Yuuji for exposing his dear brother. I know you are obsessed with us, Kuna. It's ok, baby 😘

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet!

In Chapter 6, Reader and Sukuna have some more fun with each other + also some bonding moments.

Thank you so much for all the love on this story!! It makes me so happy 💗💗

[krys4h]

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 ☆

summary◞﹒୧ Choso has a crush on his favorite customer at his vinyl shop, and he wants you bad.

contents◞﹒୧  7.4k words, fluff, nsfw, smut, au modern setting, vinyl shop au, vinylshopowner!choso, chubby!reader, thick!reader, singlemother!reader, fem!reader, shy!choso, praise, pet name (baby), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, doggy style, smut with plot, not proof read, minors dni.

────୨ৎ────

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 - 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

Choso wasn't a womanizer, and certainly not a seducer. He was a stoic man, always wearing an aloof expression, as if he didn't want to be here. When he found a girl pretty, he simply looked away, no emotion crossed his face and he continued his day as if nothing had happened. He wasn't a virgin, just not the most comfortable at flirting.

In high school, Yuuji had more success than him. This cheerful guy attracted all the girls, his smile was a powerful tool. Choso, he was way too shy to even approach a girl, and way too aloof to let himself be approached. 

So when you came into his vinyl shop, nothing could prepare him for the reaction, the wave of emotions that you were going to bring out in him. 

With your daughter in hand, you walked into the shop, looking at your surroundings. The vinyl shop was a little place decorated with multiple plants, and hundreds of music posters were plastered on the walls. From Destiny's Childs to Linkin Park, rock, jazz, rap, all genres of music were on the walls.

Right next to the cash register were vinyl turntables, where “Kiss of life” by Sade was playing. There were vintage CDs bins under the vinyl bins. There was a special charm to the place, and a sweet smell of jasmine enveloped the room.

Choso was writing something behind the cash register when he raised his head to look at his new customer, all the air in his lungs disappeared. It was like those moments that shape everyone's life.

Saying you were beautiful was an euphemism. You were drop dead gorgeous, shaped by God himself, an angel sent to earth to drive people crazy. It was a sunny day, the sun's rays penetrated the shop to illuminate your figure, and made your skin glow.

Wearing a black maxi skirt that reached down to your feet, it hugged every curve of your lower body to perfection. Your jewelry made noise with each of your steps, and Choso didn't know where to look, your belly chain called him just like the multiple long necklaces that came down in your cleavage. Your chest was enhanced by a close-fitting top, black like your skirt, the perfect ensemble for the shape of your body. Your stomach was bare and you proudly displayed the stretch marks of your pregnancy under your belly chains.

When you turned around to rummage through the vinyl bins, Choso had to make a superhuman effort not to stare at your ass, the tight fabric of your skirt perfectly fitting your curves. Instead, his gaze was lost in your back, your top was backless, and it was the sexiest sight he has seen. Seriously, who was that girl? He never saw someone so gorgeous. Your skin was glowing in the sun, and your jewelry accentuated the shining aura you had.

The image of your body and face was forever imprinted in his memory and he swears he was not the same man at that moment. It was like your beauty had short-circuited his brain.

“Hey,” you said softly, placing your forearm on the wood counter.

He raised his head and blinked. Two times. Three times. 

“I am looking for the vinyl of “Diamond life” by Sade. I didn’t see it in the “S” jazz section, are you maybe hiding it behind?” you smiled at him, and your hand pointing to the vinyl bins behind the counter.

Your eyes lingered on him. He was a very attractive man. Dark eyes and long black hair, there was something sexy about this combination. Dark locks of hair hid his forehead and framed his angular face, he had the hottest eyes, piercing and intense. Your hand intertwined with your daughter tightened as you looked at him. 

He blinked so many times, trying to regain control of his thoughts.

“Sade? Yeah, it’s kinda rare, but once in a while, we have some,” he shrugged, typing something on his computer, preferring to look at his computer screen rather than at you, because you made him nervous. “Sorry, we don’t have it today.”

“Aww, too bad. I like this band so much.”

Your daughter fidgeted, visibly disappointed, her cute eyebrows furrowed.  “They don’t have it ? But it’s a vinyl shop, I thought they would have all the vinyls in the world.” She pouted.

You chuckled softly, lowering your head and placing your hand on the top of her head.

“My daughter loves them too, as you can see,” you smiled at him.

Choso’s face softened, he thought your daughter was adorable. She looked exactly like you, like a mini you. He noticed the two of you had the same nails designs, yours in acrylics, and your daughter with simple nail polish. It was cute, honestly.

“Sorry miss, we don’t have all the vinyls of the world, but I’m sure nobody in Tokyo has my taste in music.” He took the pen he had been hiding behind his ear, grabbed a blank piece of paper, and leaned over the counter, looking thoughtful.

“Describe your type of music. Fav Genre, fav bands, and all.”

Your eyes widened, enthusiastic about talking about music.

“Oh, don’t get me started,” you laughed.

A ghost of a smile flashed Choso’s face.

“I’m not the type of person that lets his customers leave his shop with nothing.”

He started writing on the little piece of paper.

“Your like Sade, so you like Jazz, right?”

“Yeah, but I’m more in love with her person and her voice than the instruments. I love female singers who sing about love, poverty, and feelings.”

He looked up to you, seeing the fondness in your eyes as you talked about her. You were a real fan, and he liked that about you.

“I think I have something for you.” 

He stopped writing, and left the counter to go get some vinyl from the bins. You could admire his lean body, he had baggy black jeans, but his thighs looked muscular even from where you were standing. His shirt was tight on his torso, you could see the outline of his abs, and how his biceps were flexing as he searched into the bins. 

He found what he was looking for, and took the vinyl out of its packaging, to put it on the turntable next to him.

“Lauryn hill, To Zion. A song about her love for her child, with Carlos Santana. Amazing song, amazing vocals.”

The song began with guitar, and the soft voice of Lauryn Hill enveloped the shop. You swung your head gently to the sound of the music, and at the moment the chorus came where it went into high notes, you smiled at Choso.

“I love it, it’s such a cute song. Gonna make my daughter listen to it now,” you looked down at your daughter, and stroked her cheeks.

“I don’t listen to a lot of jazz to be honest. My favorite genre is mostly R&B, and rock. But soft rock, like Cigarette After Sex. I’m into rap too,” you explained as he came back behind the counter and picked up his pencil.

“Recent R&B or 90s?”

“Both. Love Brent Faiyaz, SWV and Aaliyah.”

“Good taste,” his praise made you all tingly.

He remained silent as he continued writing on the paper, and you leaned over to see what he was writing. As he did, your chest pressed against the counter, making it perkier, and when Choso raised his eyes, his cheeks heated up. With rosy cheeks, he continued what he was doing, trying not to stare too much at you, not wanting to look like a creep.

“There,” he handed to you the paper with a soft expression. “I hope you like it.”

You took the paper, and your eyes lit up at the number of artists and songs he had written on it. From recommending music from Aaliyah that you might like, to new artists like The Roots, Lauryn Hill, Erykah Badu, Jodeci… He had categorized each artist by genre, offering you alternative R&B with Frank Ocean to 90s R&B with Mint Condition, and rock with The Smiths. He had picked up on the fact that you liked female voices and had made a small category of female singers just for you, singers like Cleo Sol and Jill Scott.

“How did you know I could like Amy Winehouse?! I fucking love her!”

“Just a guess,” for the first time, his lips curled into a soft smile as he gazed at you. He was touched by your enthusiasm for music. You had that in common. 

Your heart raced, you were so thankful. You were already excited to go home, open Spotify or Itunes and listen to all his recommendations.

“Thank you so much, I’m not depressed anymore for Sade.”

“You see, sweetheart?” you bowed your head to pat your daughter’s head. “We have lots of new music to listen to together, thanks to him.”

Your daughter stood on tiptoe to look at the paper you held out and she giggled, happy.

You didn’t want to go now. You wanted to talk with him again about music, and wanted to know more about him and what he liked to listen to. To have a real discussion about music, not a commercial discussion. He was really good at sales and business, you were already thinking about coming back next week to find vinyls of the artists he had recommended to you.

As you made your way towards the exit, you were suddenly pulled back softly by the arm, Choso grabbing it. He moved so fast from the counter to stop you.

“Just one last thing,” he began, his cheeks rosy, “I’m totally not doing that to ask you out, I promise.”

You paused, tilting your head.

“What is it?”

“My brother has a bar. A bar specializing in jazz and r&b. He’s quite famous, and a lot of artists come and do mini concerts there. I thought you might like it.”

A smile flashed on your face.

“That’s so cool! Where is it?”

He gestured to the wall next to you where a poster for a chic bar was posted. “The Groove”, it was named.

“Thank you,” your smile widened, “I will definitely go there this week with some friends. We were looking for a quiet place in Tokyo, this is perfect.”

“Good.”

He seemed shy, as if the contact of your skin burned him so he hastily let go of your arm. 

“So…”

“See you soon? I’m definitely coming back!!! I’m gonna make a tierlist of all your recommended songs.”

His gaze softened, and he chuckled, putting his hands in his pockets. You were pretty, funny and has good taste in music. He was starting to have a horrible crush on you.

“See you soon.”

────୨ৎ────

𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 - 𝐪𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐚

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

Choso’s music taste was so good. 

You had listened to all the recent albums by the artists he had recommended to you, and listened to all the songs he had written down on paper, and all of them were a bop. You had come back to the vinyl shop to find the vinyls of your new favorite artists and to give him your opinion on his recommendations. In the end, it had become a habit. You always came all happy in search of new vinyl and he always prepared a paper with new artists to discover.

Choso liked you. You were his secret crush. He waited impatiently for the day of the week when you were going to pass by, the similar heat invading him when he caught a glance of your hair in the sun in the entrance of the shop. He liked your voice, which always got excited to talk about music, and softened when you talked about your daughter, he liked your clothing style, you took his breath away every time you passed by the shop with an outfit that revealed the shape of your body. He liked talking to you, answering your daughter's curious questions. He liked you.

You liked him too, to be honest. He was fine as hell, you remembered precisely the day he had carried vinyl bins and how his shirt had ridden up, revealing tattoos on his hips and lean abs. He had tattoos on his neck, his hips, his arms, everywhere. You had memorized all his piercings, one in his nostril, many in his ears, and one in his eyebrow. He was always dressed in black, and he looked good like that.

He was passionate about music and knowledgeable about his subject. You could spend hours listening to him talk, and watch him put vinyl on the turntable so you could hear his recommendations. The problem was that you only talked about music when you wanted to know a little more about him. Know the meaning of his tattoos, what music he listened to when he was sad, how he got into music, his name. You wanted to know more about him as a person. 

You were listening to some Frank Ocean song when your friend Mina called you. You stopped doing the dishes, dried your hands, and took the call.

“Hey,” you softly said, and you were greeted by her enthusiasm.

“I’m on leave!! My boss is going to leave me alone for the week, time to go out and have fun girl!”

You burst out laughing in your kitchen, listening to your friend energetically tell how she finally had some time off after months, and wanted to celebrate with you. You worked from home to be close to your daughter, so you had a lot of free time compared to her who worked for a big company that was stingy on vacations. 

“You don’t leave your house often, I'm gonna get you out of here!”

“I'm leaving my place to do grocery shopping, and search for vinyls,” you remind her as you dries the dishes.

“Boooh, that’s so lame,” you could picture her rolling her eyes at the other end of the phone line, and you chuckled.

“Wait, I didn’t tell you about the cute guy I met-”

“Drop the tea!!! It’s been years since you talked about a man, I’m excited!”

You told him everything from the beginning, until today when he lent you a book about jazz and all the greatest artists of the genre.

“He’s definetely in love with you,” she stated and you laughed.

“Please.”

“You got a whole man bending over the counter to write playlists for you every week. And he gave you a book. Sounds like the beginning of a love story to me.”

You sighed, amused by her. It was true his actions were cute, but being in love with you ?

“He’s so fine, he can’t be single.”

“Tell me more about him. I bet he look like an emo kid.”

You paused, laughing you ass off. 

“What the fuck?”

“You think I don’t know you ? Your type is men with long hair, tattoos and piercings.”

“You just described him.”

“See?” she chuckled.

“Okay, maybe… Maybe, it’s true. But he’s more like a punk kid than emo. There is a lot of punk bands in his shop,” you said as you were cleaning the sink with one hand, and the other holding the phone.

“Whatever, the two of you are a match in heaven. Don’t sabotage this, I beg you.”

“Sabotage?”

She sighed, and her voice was hesitant.

“You know what I mean. You always sabotage your relationships before they could grow.”

“You mean me being having standards for me and my daughter and taking no shit?” you frowned.

It was true since your daughter's father left you, not wanting to raise a child, you were very careful about who you trusted. You didn't want your daughter to get used to seeing different men hanging around the house, so you avoided bringing your dates home, and you were very demanding. Your daughter's safety was what worried you the most, and you didn't want to bring just anyone home. 

“Not that. More like your trust issues ruining the relationships.”

“I found out my last date had a criminal record for sex trafficking, sorry to be careful now,” you mumbled, a bit irritated by the way she was judging you. She was your friend, but she didn’t know what it was to have a child.

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah. But enough talking about this,” you said, waiting to drop the subject. “My daughter is at my mom’s house. I’m free tonight if you want to drink something,” you smiled.

Explosion of happiness on the other end of the line, you moved the phone a little away from your ear while Mina screamed in joy. You were grateful to have a friend like her. She was honest, enthusiastic, and took time to check on you every month, to see how you were doing alone with your child. She could be a little blunt at times, but she was caring in her own ways. 

Suddenly, you reminded something. 

“I think I have the perfect bar for us.”

────୨ৎ────

“The Groove” was a chic bar, located next to a park. The walls were made of brick and covered with paintings by world-famous artists. There were large sophisticated lamps that dimly lit the bar, creating a sensual atmosphere. The room was built so that the stage was in the middle and the tables and chairs were placed around it. The bar counter was rounded, everything was made of wood, the counter and the tables, while the chairs were made of vintage fabric with flower patterns on them. 

Choso occasionally worked for his brother Yuuji, when there was a shortage of waiters. He stood behind the bar counter, wiping glasses with a dishcloth, when he looked up to see who had come in. He froze in place when he saw you. Just you, he was staring at only you, and didn't even acknowledge your friend. You stole all his attention.

Dressed in a long dress that touched the floor, you walked into the room, amazed by the lamps around you. Artists played the saxophone on the stage, and you were immediately immersed in the atmosphere of the jazz bar. Your black dress was elegant, and the neckline deep. It was a completely black dress with no artifice but a bare back. Simple, elegant, perfect for going to the bar.

Yet, you were stunning in his eyes. The same heat arose in his body, as every time he saw you. As you walked in the bar and soon arrived at the counter, his brain was thinking fast. He was almost done with his shift, and he will be damned if he didn't take the opportunity to talk to you for real, get to know you, or even flirt with you. Shit. He wasn't a seducer, he didn't know what he had to do to seduce you, but he wanted you bad.

Your eyes widened when you saw Choso behind the counter bar. You nudged your friend.

“What?” 

“The cute guy I was talking about is literally just here,” you whispered in a tense voice.

She looked at the direction you were looking and her eyes lit up.

“You have so much taste in men, damn. He’s so-”

You nudged her again, not wanting to play along.

“Stop it, be normal. Please,” you mumbled as you approached the counter.

“You didn’t tell me you worked here,” you placed your hands on one of the high chairs at the bar, a polite smile on your face.

It was at this moment that Choso noticed that you weren't alone, and he looked at your friend, who also had a long golden dress, which was the perfect match with her dark brown skin.

“You didn’t ask me,” he simply said as he continued to wipe his glasses. “It’s nice to see you here, what would you like to drink?”

His voice was nonchalant but inside his heart were racing. The thing about Choso was that he was shy in places and situations where he was not in control. His vinyl shop was his safe place, music was his favorite subject, he was in something he knew perfectly. But seeing you here, at his brother's bar, was something else entirely.

“Two mojitos please,” your friend said softly, and begin to walk towards the table area. “I leave you alone,” she whispered in your ear before leaving. 

You were grateful, and smiled at her, before your attention was back on Choso.

“You never told me your name.”

“Choso. Choso Kamo,” he started to do your drinks. “And you?”

You said your name, and he repeated it softly, to see how it rolled on his tongue.

“It’s pretty. Like you.”

“Did you just compliment your customer?” you smile widened.

“You’re not my customer here, I can do whatever I want with you.”

Was he flirting with you? You didn’t know but you liked where this conversation was going. You leaned against the counter.

“Does that mean we can ask ourselves questions that have nothing to do with music?”

“Like, can you wait for me before you leave with your friend? I’m almost done with my shift, and I’d like to talk with you.”

He was bolder and bolder, and you liked it. Your cheeks ached from smiling, and you nodded.

He gave you your drinks, and his eyes lingered on yours for a moment as yours hands touched each other when you took the drinks. You felt hot under his gaze, and you felt his eyes on you on your back even when you walked toward when your friend were sitting. 

────୨ৎ────

His shift was over and he had to go home but he was sitting on the high chairs at the counter bar, his eyes still on you. He was already thinking about what he was going to say to you when he was alone with you, and his legs were shaking with nervousness.

“What are you waiting for?” Yuuji said, who was making cocktails behind the counter.

“A girl.”

“A girl ?!” Yuuji’s eyes widened with surprise.

Choso never talked about girls, crushes or conquests. He was too shy to do anything with a girl. So Yuuji was surprised.

“She’s here?”

“Shut up,” Choso’s cheeks grew rosy, and Yuuji chuckled.

“You’re whipped,” Yuuji smirked.

Just at that moment, he heard a chair scrape the floor and turned his head toward you. Your friend was picking up her bag, ready to leave. This was his moment, he thought. He stood up from the high chair, took a few strides, and came to your table. He didn't look you in the eye as he sat down where your friend was.

“Hey,” he said softly.

“Hey.”

The moment you were waiting for the most was here. A slight silence settled between you. It wasn't awkward, you were busy watching the artists play the saxophone in front of you. The melody gently enveloped the room. You were far from drunk, but a little tipsy, and smiled like an idiot.

“You're really pretty tonight,” Choso broke the silence first.

His eyes scanned your figure from head to toe, to remember it better later. He tried not to fix his eyes too much on your chest.

You turned your head towards him with a soft expression.

“Thank you,” you sipped your drink a little.

You acted calm, but inwardly you were nervous and you struggled to hold your glass steadily. It's been a while since you flirted with someone, you were too busy with your job and your daughter to do that.

Another silence.

“You…”

“So…”

You start your sentence at the same time and Choso chuckled softly.

“I'm not good at that,” he confessed, his voice low.

“Neither I am.”

“Really, though? I’m actually surprised you let me flirt with you.”

“What do you mean?”

He leaned his body over the table, moving closer to you.

“I mean,” he whispered, as if it was a secret, “a beauty like you can't be single, or am I just incredibly lucky today?”

Your stomach warmed.

“You're surprisingly really smooth for someone bad at this.”

“You're not answering the question,” he grinned, and you paused, admiring how his smile lit up his whole face.

“I’m single.”

“My lucky day.”

“Who said I was interested?”

“I will make you interested.”

You let out a soft chuckle.

“Confident, aren’t you?” you teased him.

He was anything but that. Under the table, he rubbed his sweaty hands on his jeans, his heart pounding. He was going to do things right, and had the goal of having at least your number by the end of the night. Or give you his, he was still hesitant.

“Tell me more about you. I can name your top 3 Spotify artists but I don’t even know your favorite color.”

“I'm a graphic designer who works at home, and I love reading romance books.”

“Graphic design? You make posters?”

You nodded.

“I work for a startup and do advertising. I make their posters, flyers. Pretty much everything visual for the brand.”

Choso listened to you attentively.

“Cool. I bet you must have favorite fonts.”

You let out a small laugh. He liked the sound so much and wanted you to always make it in front of him. 

“Yeah, but nothing could beat New Times Roman. She's a badass,” you joked.

You talk to him about work for a few minutes, telling him what you like best about your job, what you like least, and how much fun it is to do it from home. Choso took the time to listen without interrupting you, nodding his head from time to time. You felt like he was interested in everything you said so you spoke without censorship. He had trouble looking you in the eye so his eyes darted to the side at times or he looked at the stage.

“It's cool how you're so passionate about everything.” He leaned against the back of his chair. “Your eyes are always bright when you talk about something you care about.”

“Really?”

You had never noticed this side of yourself.

“Yeah, it's cute. Your daughter is the same.”

Nothing could prepare you for the effect it had on you. It was a little thing, but it softened you, and warmth released in your belly.

“You're becoming a softie everytime I mention your daughter,” his eyes softened.

“You're really observant, it's scary.”

“I’ve been staring at you since you came to the shop. You steal all my attention.”

You were having trouble inhaling. He was going to make you shy if he kept this up.

“Enough talking about me, it’s your turn.” you decide to change the subject.

“You know my job already.”

“Your life is your job?”

“Pretty much. It’s my safe place. My hobby, my passion,” he said firmly. “My life is music.”

“What’s the last concert you went to recently?”

“Cigarettes After Sex.”

“Oh my god! Tell me about it.”

He smiled gently.

“It was amazing.”

“Of course it was, you’re so lucky to have managed to get tickets.”

“When you work in the music industry, it’s easier.”

You continued to talk about everything and nothing. Choso was easy to talk to, and he was a good listener. You learned more about him, about his bond with his brother Yuuji, what studies he had done or not done since he had dropped out of college to start his own thing, his shop. That was why his shop was so important to him, it was the realization of hard work and his biggest dream.

“I had to make a lot of sacrifices for my shop, dropping out of college was scary. It was like taking a plunge into the unknown.”

Empathy filled your eyes.

“I get that. It’s like your little baby, your shop. I was scared too when I got my daughter.”

“Are you raising her alone?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, “Her father didn’t want her.”

You confided in me about intimate things, but you felt comfortable with Choso. There was a connection with him, something inexplicable that bound the two of you together. You felt like you could tell him anything.

“What’s it like raising a child alone, not too tired?”

“Let’s just say my life revolves around her now, everything I choose for myself will have consequences for her. I can’t have fun dating just anyone, I think about how it might affect her,” you said with a thoughtful expression, looking down at your glass.

You told Choso how you had been through your pregnancy alone, and confided in him about the postpartum depression you had been experiencing. Choso listened to you attentively, he seemed really interested in what you said, and it put you at ease. It felt good to talk to someone other than Mina. You discussed current events, music, and books. It was a nice evening for the two of you where you felt safe with each other. You could be vulnerable with him.

Before leaving the bar, Choso had slipped a piece of paper with his number on it onto the table. He hadn’t looked you in the eye during the movement, staring at his knees. You found the action cute, finding it cute that he was so shy when he had been hitting on you all evening. You took the paper and put it in your bag.

Choso walked you towards the exit, his hand on the small of your back. His touch made everything tingly.

“It was a nice evening, Choso.”

“I hope this isn’t the last between us.”

You turned to him, a soft smile on your face.

“I can consider the idea.”

“Take your time, I’m all yours,” he whispered just near your ear and goosebumps spread across your skin.

Leaving the bar, the cold air outside made you shiver and you rubbed your arms. You turned to Choso still with your stupid smile because of the alcohol.

“So…”

“I’m walking you home,” Choso’s voice was firm, it wasn’t a question. “You’re tipsy and a woman alone in the night.”

You had no objection, and found his concern endearing. He took off his leather jacket to gently place it on your shoulders and you were melting inside. You continued to chat into the night, walking side by side.

You really liked Choso. He was a kind, passionate and caring man, who was close to his family and serious in his work. He had let you confide in him about your deepest pain concerning your daughter, and you didn't want it to stop there. You were planning on using his number, and seeing where this connection could lead you. Mina's voice came back into your head, advising you to stop ruining your relationships, and for the first time in a long time, you told yourself that she was right, and that you didn't want to ruin that connection with Choso.

But when you arrived in front of your house, you didn't know if it was the alcohol that made you act or the hidden desire you felt for him that resurfaced, your lips acted on their own when he lowered his head towards you to say goodbye. You gently pressed your lips against him, and he froze on the spot.

────୨ৎ────

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞  - 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐥����𝐞𝐫

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

You traced his bottom with the edge of your tongue, and he let out a soft sigh, his lips parted. If you wanted a kiss, he was going to give it to you. He was waiting for that all night long. He sucked in a breath, lips itching for passion, and brushed his tongue against yours as his hands gripped the back of your head, bringing you closer to him.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, and tangled your tongue with his. At first the kiss was gentle, teasing then it quickly became hungry, intense. He was craving you. You don't know how you get into the building, all you focused on was how he was ravishing your mouth while grinding his hips against yours, his length hard and needy in his pants. You pressed the elevator button then your floor number, and let out a soft moan as Choso pinned you against the elevator wall, continuing to kiss you with ardor and voracity.

He placed his arms under your ass, lifting you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist. You rocked your hips against him, your lower half throbbing in need for friction. He slammed you against the elevator wall with each of his thrusts. Your hands in his back, you gripped at his shirt while you were panting against his lips. It’s been months since you did that with someone, your head was on fire. The elevator went up as you rubbed against each other, kissing.

The elevator stopped at your floor, and you stepped away from Choso for a few seconds, catching your breath.

“Follow me,” you took his hand in yours, and led him with you to your apartment. He followed behind you, his eyes on your ass. He wasn’t shy anymore, you had awakened a burning fire in him that he was waiting to release. You took out your keys to open the door but your hands were shaking. This was the first time you had brought a man home since you had your daughter.

“Where is your room?” he pinned you against the door once you were inside the apartment and lifted you again, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“At the back on the right.”

He carried you to your bedroom while pressing soft kisses on your jaw. Arrivé dans ta chambre, il te jeta sur le lit. Tu te redressais sur tes coudes, looking at him.

“Your daughter isn’t here?”

“She’s at her grandmother’s.”

“Perfect,” he said, rubbing his hands together and the action made you laugh. He looked like a child about to unwrap a Christmas present. Even though it was funny, it was making you kind of nervous, your heart raced.

“Choso, I…”

“What is it ?” his eyes softened as they roamed your figure on the bed. He noticed the little shaking of your hands. He walked forward and placed one knee on the bed.

“It’s been so long since I did this, I don’t know if…”

He bent over, took your hand and placed it on his chest, on his heart. You felt the rapid beats under your palms. 

“I’m as nervous as you,” his voice was tender, “I’m not that experienced, I’m afraid of making mistakes, and ruining the moment. But as you can feel it, I’m excited as fuck. I want to do this.”

He lowered his head just above yours, his gentle eyes roving over your figure on the bed.

“So, can you trust me?”

Lips pressed against yours, he ravaged your mouth. His kiss was feverish, hungry. Your lips molding against each other, tongue brushing against each other, the atmosphere quickly became sensual and intense. Your hands caressed his arms, gripped as his shirt when he nuzzled your neck to press soft kisses against it.

“I always wanted to see your tattoos,” you whispered, turning your head to give him more room to kiss you.

“You do?” Choso smiled against your skin, his tongue licking at a spot on your neck. You shivered at the sensation.

He straightened himself, knees on the bed. He took off his shirt, and your eyes widened at the amount of tattoos he had on his chest and arms. You lifted a hand to touch them, hypnotized. 

“Do they have any special meanings?”

“No, I liked the drawings.” He took your hands and let it roam on his skin.

His skin was smooth, you were taking in the sight of him, shirtless in front of you, his muscles flexing with each of your touch. He looked like a fallen angel. An extraordinary beauty, complex and dark with ink on his skin, and his long black hair.

“Let me see you too,” he murmured and tugged at your dress.

You flinched, hesitant. This was going to be the first time a man saw you naked after your pregnancy. You couldn’t help but be invaded by insecure thoughts about your body. You hadn’t yet lost the weight gained during pregnancy, and working from home, you weren’t getting much exercise. You had the “mom bod” that people online liked to criticize. Choso noticed your expression and bent over again, cupping your face. His touch was gentle.

“What is it?”

“It’s embarrassing,” you chuckled uncomfortably.

“Tell me.”

He looked so good just above you, you were almost jealous of him. You looked away, not knowing how to explain what you were feeling. His eyes narrowed as he looked at you.

“I want to hear it, even if it's embarrassing,” he whispered softly, not backing down. 

“It’s been a while, that’s all.”

He gently eased the straps of your dress down your arms, and you flinched without wanting it.

“You’re sure you want it?”

Your stomach dropped, feeling guilty. You were ruining this.

“Of course I do, it’s just…”

God, it was so frustrating. You didn’t want to make a fool of yourself in front of him and call yourself fat, you didn’t want to seem like you needed attention. Raising a child alone has taught you to be independent, to not rely on others, so why did you feel so weak right now? You were worth more than this.

“Leave it to me,” Choso whispered, his voice soft and reassuring, and you were grateful to have come across someone so gentle with you.

He nuzzled against your neck again, kissing the sensitive flesh. As he was wandering his lips on your skin, his hands were busy removing your dress. He removed each layer of clothing gently and patiently, his touch soft on your skin.  With the dress off, all you had left was your underwear. Your heart was pounding, and you fought the need to cover your breasts with your arm. As you breastfed your daughter, your breasts were a bit saggy and was your biggest insecurity. 

His eyes never left your face, his head went down and down, kissing your shoulders, your collarbones, and then your chest. Goosebumps spread across your flesh as the cold air of the room brushed your skin. He wrapped his tongue around one of your nipple and sucked it. You arched your back on the bed, dipping your hands in his hair. He revelled in the pleasure he could make you feel.

Tits stuffed in his mouth, his hands wandered around your thighs, teasing you. His palms were dangerously close to an area that was yearning for his touch. You let out a soft moan when his fingers started to caress your center. He shivered at the sound, and continued his caresses on your clothed cunt. His index and his middle fingers moved back and forth at the wet spot on the underwear, and he smiled against your skin as he felt you squirming under him.

He didn't torture you for long, as he slid his fingers under your thong to finger you better. His elbow on the bed, he kept his eyes on your face as he pushed his fingers in and out, the soft squelch of your pussy enveloping the room. He took pleasure just by looking at you squirming and gasping for air, hearing your soft pleas. You tugged at his hair, as you rocked your hips against his hands, chasing your orgasm. You were so close, you needed a little more.

“Cho’,” you were a mess, moaning his name as his thumb rubbed against your clit.

“I know, I know,” Choso sucked on your nipple, his fingers thrusting in and out your center, his hands sticky by your arousal.

There was something magical about having your tits eaten while being fingered. It was an incredible, intoxicating feeling that washed over you as you came on his fingers. For a second, you forgot about your insecurities and were overcome by pleasure. 

Choso didn’t waste time, and quickly took off his jeans and boxers, and threw them somewhere in the room. He was so excited, his cock was throbbing. 

“Wait,” you stopped him, coming down from your high.

You sat up to grab a condom from your nightstand and handed it to him. A deep, low laugh rumbled in his chest as he took it.

“My bad, I almost forgot.”

He put the condom on and positioned himself between your legs. He looked up to take in the sight of you lying on the bed for him. He saw the stretch marks that you proudly displayed, your saggy breasts that made you self-conscious, and the parts of your body that were thick and round, and he fucking loved it. Electric feeling sparked across his body as he gazed at you with feverish eyes. You were so fucking sexy that he couldn’t wait to ravish you. He had always told himself that he did not have a type of girls in his life, but as he looked at your chest rising and falling, he thought that his type was you. He wanted all of you, and it was with the intention of driving you crazy with pleasure that he lined his throbbing cock with your entrance, and slammed into you.

You jolted, a moan of pain slipping out of your mouth. He was so big, and was making you feel full, you needed time to adjust at his length.

“Sorry,” he whispered as he rubbed his thumb on your clit to relax you.

He pushed in and out in a slow motion, giving time to adjust. When he noticed your expression was relaxed, he started to picking up the pace of his thrusts. His hands gripped your love handles to hold you in place and you were flustered by his animality. He was going to fuck you stupid, you knew that.

“You’re so beautiful, it’s a crime that you’re not married to me and I can’t fuck you like this everyday.”

You wanted to answer to him but you were panting, and struggled to even articulate a sentence as he pounded into you. He was fucking you stupid, the shy and gentle Choso wasn’t here anymore and all that remained was the wild creature he was becoming because of you. He was fucking you to oblivion, his cock rutting into you. Lewd and wet noises enveloped the room.

“You hear how good I am making you feel, baby? If you were mine, I would let you feel like this everyday,” he breathed out. 

In pure bliss, his eyes roamed your figure on the bed, your tits and other parts of your thick body jiggling and bouncing because of his hard thrusts, and he felt in heaven. That was what he wanted in his life. He turned you around, your chest pressing against the mattress, and your ass up. Nervous, you turned your head to look at him behind you but he pushed your head against the pillow as he grew more dominant and slammed his hips against your ass. Your whole body jolted and you moaned into the pillow, gripping it in your hands. 

“That ass is to kill for,” he grunted as he gripped your love handles even tighter, and he was becoming dizzy as he looked at your ass ricochetting on his pelvis with each of his thrusts. He slapped your ass with force, and soft pleas left your mouth. 

He completely ravaged your body, fucking you with force and intensity from the back. Gasping for air, you rolled your eyes to the back of your head, moaning helplessly into the pillow as you were close. Even when you came, he didn’t stop. He continued to pound into you as if it was his last mission on earth, and when he finished, you had no strength anymore in your body. 

────୨ৎ────

“I’m not casual about you,” he whispered softly in your hair, “I'll scare you if you knew everything I imagine with you.”

A soft chuckle escaped your mouth. Lying on the bed together, legs intertwined, bodies sweating, and slowly catching your breaths, you relaxed together.

And you imagined a life where Choso were yours, and you felt happy in his arms.

𓍯 𝐤𝐫𝐲𝐬

[slut4nicholas]

𝙊𝙃 𝙁𝘼𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍, 𝙄 𝙃𝘼𝙑𝙀 𝙎𝙄𝙉𝙉𝙀𝘿 𝙄𝙄 | 𝙉𝙄𝘾𝙃𝙊𝙇𝘼𝙎 𝘼𝙇𝙀𝙓𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍 𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙑𝙀𝙕

𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏 𝙄

a/n: i'm not entirely satisfied with this, but I felt the need to share the second part. writing smut isn't my favorite thing, but it can be fun to imagine! this piece is a bit lengthy, but i hope you all enjoy it! <3

warnings: 18+, oral (f receiving), penetration p in v, unprotected sex!

summary: after an electrifying night filled with undeniable chemistry, she returns home, heart racing from the secrets shared. but when she awakens to an unexpected surprise, desire ignites—especially when it involves her irresistible priest.

†

𝙋𝙊𝙍 𝙌𝙐𝙀 𝙇𝙊 𝙈𝘼𝙎 𝙍𝙄𝘾𝙊 𝙎𝙄𝙀𝙈𝙋𝙍𝙀 𝙀𝙎 𝙋𝙍𝙊𝙃𝙄𝘽𝙄𝘿𝙊 | as i made my way home, my thoughts spiraled into a tantalizing whirlwind of forbidden desire, all centered around charlie. every detail of him haunted my mind—his hair, that sultry voice, the way his smile ignited something deep inside me, his sculpted body that was simply irresistible. it’s a thrilling, dangerous dance of attraction i never expected to find within the hallowed walls of the church i’ve attended since my teen years.

each memory of our encounter sent electric tingles down my spine, filling me with delicious guilt, as the stark reality lingered: he’s my priest. yet, with every recollection, i find myself craving him more passionately than ever.

the sun pierced through my curtains like a spotlight, dragging me from my dreams into the sharp reality of the morning. my mother’s voice cut through the lingering haze, urgent and commanding.

“get up! father charlie is coming for dinner, and i expect this house to be spotless—no excuses. i want you on your absolute best behavior, understood?”

confusion tingled at the edges of my mind. why was he coming? it’s been almost a week since i’ve saw him, had the lady told my parents about us? did they know our secret? a wave of panic washed over me as i considered the judgment that would surely follow. how could i face my father? the weight of guilt stifled my breath, intensifying the thrill of the unknown as i grappled with the looming dread of that evening.

as dinner time approached, i was determined to look as irresistible as possible for him, wanting his gaze to linger on me, to undress me with his eyes even in front of my parents. fuck,what is wrong with me?

i slipped into my cute little white dress adorned with red bows at the front, letting my long, dark curls cascade down my shoulders. i opted for light makeup, hoping it would keep my parents from noticing anything unusual and questioning my sudden desire to impress.

i eagerly helped my mother set the table, aiming to make our long dinner table as inviting as possible for our guests. my father had dashed out for a last-minute item, while my mother was busy putting the finishing touches on a delicious dinner in the kitchen.

just as i was arranging the silverware, the doorbell rang, causing my heart to race. "It must be your father! Go on and open it!" my mom called out.

with excitement, i swung open the door, only to be taken aback by an unexpected sight—father charlie stood there, smiling warmly.

"hello," he said, his voice stern yet laced with a sweetness that sent a flutter through my chest. my words caught in my throat, rendering me speechless, but thankfully, my mother swooped in, gently nudging me aside. "excuse my daughter; she can be a bit shy," she remarked, an edge of annoyance in her tone.

charlie chuckled lightly, handing his coat to my mother, and in that moment, i felt rooted to the spot, unsure of what to do or say. i quietly made my way to the dinner table, where he and my mother awaited my father’s arrival. soon, after setting the table with the help of charlie and my mom

the door swung open, and my father entered, exchanging warm greetings with the priest. he wrapped my mother in a hug and planted a kiss on my cheek, causing charlie to flash a soft smile, filling the room with an unexpected warmth.

charlie sat across from my father, while my mother nestled close to him, her seat a cozy distance from my own, which was beside charlie but still a tad bit removed. in a nod to traditional values, my father insisted that men should occupy the edge seats at the table, marking their territory in the process.

tonight, however, charlie broke away from his typical priest attire, donning a fitted black tee that perfectly hugged his toned muscles, paired with stylish blue jeans and dress shoes that elevated his look. he was undeniably striking, and i couldn't help but notice my mother stealing glances at him, her interest unmistakable.

the atmosphere was charged, blending formality with an unspoken tension as i wondered if charlie was aware of how captivating he really was.

“father, i apologize for our absence at church lately; we've just been on a family business trip searching for the right college for my oldest son,” my mother said with a hint of regret, breaking the silence as everyone savored the delicious, warm meal in front of us. “but i promise we'll be back this Sunday, no expectations.” the pastor smiled reassuringly, “no worries, mrs. i truly miss having you all in the pews; the church has felt a bit quieter without your joyful presence.”

our family, deeply rooted in our latin heritage, held a passionate devotion to our faith, with crosses and images of the virgin mary adorning our home like cherished family portraits. “did you end up choosing a school for him?” charlie asked, his curiosity piqued as he leaned in, eager to hear about our latest adventure.

"have you, mom?" my oldest brother snapped, clearly frustrated by our parents' attempts to dictate his career path. while he dreamed of a fulfilling future in a blue-collar job, mom and dad were set on steering him toward something more prestigious—like princeton. my dad lit up at the mention, eager to share the news, while my mom squeezed his hand, her joy palpable despite the tension. nearby, charlie, our priest, flicked his gaze between my brother and our parents, noticing the undercurrents of disagreement.

i couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment; charlie hadn't said much to me since the last church gathering, and his casual glances felt like a stark contrast to the connection i had hoped we’d built. i understood he was busy, but a part of me longed for him to remember us as more than some random girl.

"how about you?" father charlie asked, fixing his gaze on me with a playful smirk. my parents, caught up in their own conversation, turned their attention our way. "um, I'm not really sure what I want to do," i replied with a light smile, but before I could dive deeper, my mother chimed in with a grin, “she’s going to be a mother and a wife to that sweet johnson boy!”

my eyes rolled in annoyance; i barely got a word in. “oh, come on, sweetie, he’s an amazing boy,” my dad added, oblivious to my frustration. “yeah, that’s what you think,” i muttered under my breath, eliciting a quiet chuckle from charlie.

the truth was that charlie secretly despised my parents and their controlling ways; he had come to spend time with me because he missed everything about me—my laughter, my innocent chatter, even the way my curls bounced when I smiled. “what do you think of him, father?” my dad asked charlie, eager for validation.

“well, I’d rather keep my opinions to myself,”

charlie replied, feeling a knot of anger form in his stomach at the thought of losing me to someone who might claim my sweet innocence as their own.

the dinner table buzzed with animated chatter and infectious laughter, but i felt a spark of mischief ignite within me. to shake off my boredom, i slipped off my shoe, playfully resting my foot on his leg, teasingly dancing my toes along the fabric of his pants. the moment his eyes shot a strong, stern glance my way, i couldn’t resist the urge to tease him further, my heart racing at the thrill of it all. i noted how his jaw clenched tightly, fists growing pale from the pressure as he fought to suppress a smile. deep down, i knew he missed even the lightest touch—the electric connection sparking between us made the dinner all the more delicious.

as dinner wound down, my parents and brother exchanged warm goodbyes with charlie, who, despite his insistence to help with cleanup, was gently shooed away by my mother. she was just grateful for his visit and wanted him to relax. then, in a surprising twist, charlie turned to me with a glint in his eye, asking if i could join him at the church to lend a hand for an upcoming fundraiser. my heart raced with excitement and curiosity—what an unexpected adventure! my parents enthusiastically approved, and as i stepped towards the door, my father wrapped me in a protective hug, reminding me to stay safe. "don't worry," charlie assured him with a charming smile, "I'll have her back before midnight." with that, i was swept away into the evening, f

charlie flung open the passenger door, a strained smile masking the simmering frustration beneath the surface while my father loomed on the porch, eyeing his every move. i waved goodbye as he slid into the driver’s seat, his jaw taut, fingers digging into the steering wheel as he pulled out of the driveway, glancing back to see my father retreat into the house. the tense silence hung in the air until he finally snapped, "so that’s the boy you’ve been sneaking out with, huh?" the edge in his voice was sharp enough to cut, and I couldn't help but scoff. "yeah, but it’s nothing. i told you i ended it before it started." “right," he said bitterly, "because your parents must be thrilled at the idea of pawning you off to some creep. what the hell?" his anger hung heavy, and i instinctively placed my hand on his arm, tracing the tense muscles with my fingers, trying to coax him back to calm. “relax, charlie! im not marrying him. why are you so worked up? It’s not like we’re anything.” he shoved my hand away, not roughly, but with a quiet intensity that sent a jolt through me. i bit my lip, a mix of shock and irritation bubbling inside me, watching him wallow in his own turmoil as the air between us crackled with unspoken words.

i couldn't shake the intensity radiating from him, his barely contained anger flickering beneath a calm facade for my parents. It was intoxicating—the way every piercing glance and biting remark sent shivers down my spine, igniting an undeniable desire within me. i craved him, yearned for him with a ferocity that made me fantasize about marrying him, bearing the children he dreamt of. i knew society would never accept it, but deep down, i was certain charlie wouldn’t give a damn. the thrill of this forbidden desire only made me want him more.

“y/n” charlie's voice dripped with urgency, igniting a fire within me, “if i could whisk you away and keep you all to myself, believe me, i would. no man—no boy—here even comes close to deserving you. for years, i’ve watched you grow, and my care for you has morphed into something fierce. i desire you more than i crave the title of 'priest.’ you’ve been burning in my thoughts, and not seeing you for a week felt like an eternity. when i stood up there to preach, all i could think of was your face, and with every passing day you weren’t there, my frustration simmered and boiled. you need to understand this—” suddenly, i ignored him, only for him to grasp my chin forcefully, compelling me to meet his gaze. “do you hear me?” he demanded, his eyes ablaze.

"yes," i whispered, locking eyes with him, a spark igniting awareness in his gaze that made him swallow hard. my mind raced with vivid imagery of me kneeling, surrendering to him just as fervently as i prayed each day. "yes what?" he pressed, his voice thick with anticipation. "yes, father," i responded, my innocent tone setting him ablaze with desire. i could feel his urgency, the way he longed to pull the car over and claim me in the backseat, where the world could witness our recklessness. let them see—if he wanted to stake his claim, then i was wholly his.

"that's my girl," he exclaimed, a devilish smirk dancing across his lips as he caught the spark of surprise flicker in my eyes. those three simple words sent a rush of heated electricity coursing through me, igniting a wild mix of excitement and longing that was hard to contain. as his fingers brushed gently against my bottom lip, I felt the world around us fade away, leaving just the two of us suspended in an intoxicating moment where everything felt possible. my heart raced, caught between exhilaration and desire, wondering what thrilling depths this connection might plunge us into next.

as we strolled past the towering façade of the old church, its stained glass windows shimmering under the fading daylight, a thrill coursed through me. i sensed that he was leading me to his sanctuary, a place that would mark the beginning of an intoxicating journey where i would be claimed wholly and unapologetically as his. The thought ignited something primal within me—a fervent desire to surrender myself entirely to him, to let him dismantle the barriers i had so carefully erected, to be utterly transformed by his touch. i welcomed the idea of being shattered, for in that destruction lay the promise of becoming his—completely and irrevocably his. it was a reckless plunge into the abyss of passion, a daring leap toward a future where i would no longer be my own, but a beautifully chaotic tapestry woven together with his deepest desires.

as we pulled up to his house, charlie swung open the passenger door, gesturing for me to step out. the moment i did, i caught sight of a group of people lounging on their porch, laughter mingling with the warm evening air. i couldn’t help but wonder what gossip would ignite amongst them at the sight of a girl arriving at her priest’s doorstep—what could they possibly think of this encounter? but that curiosity only fueled the thrill coursing through me. eagerly, we approached the door, and charlie let me in first, casting a glance at the neighbors across the street as he shut us in, a sly smirk playing on his lips. to him, it was all a game—the whispers, the speculation—he relished the thought of everyone knowing that I was HIS, wrapped in a dangerous intrigue that sent shivers down my spine.

as we stepped into his home, an electric tension crackled in the air, his hand resting possessively on the small of my back—a gesture that felt both reassuring and enticingly perilous. his gaze, intense and predatory, traced the contours of my body like a painter admiring a masterpiece, his eyes hungry and filled with desire. The moment charlie slipped off his shoes, his invitation for me to do the same felt like a seductive prelude, erasing the boundaries between us. wrapped in his warmth, i felt an exhilarating mix of security and longing, his towering height and chiseled muscles radiating strength and protection. just when i thought i could savor this moment forever, he stood close behind me, his breath teasing my neck as his fingers delicately swept my hair to one side. each soft kiss he planted along my neck ignited a flame deep within, intertwining the thrill of vulnerability with an insatiable desire to surrender to the allure unfolding between us.

charlie’s fingers slid teasingly down the delicate fabric of my dress, the soft material cascading off my shoulders like a whisper, revealing the perfectly tied red bows at the front that tantalizingly held it in place. with a sultry smirk, he pulled the dress down, letting it pool at my hips, exposing every seductive curve that made my heart race and his breath hitch. as his hands gripped my bum firmly, a playful slap ignited my skin, sending a thrill through me. i spun around, our lips crashing together with a fiery urgency that ignited the room, our kiss deepening, becoming a passionate dance of tongues seeking dominance. the air was thick with moans and the intoxicating backdrop of his lightly decorated home added an intimate ambiance that made this moment feel like a scene out of a forbidden film. god forgive me, but i craved this encounter more than i ever craved a visit to church; my back arched, pressing into his sturdy embrace as i melted against him, eager for more.

charlie broke away from the kiss to stare at my body admiring my white laced under garments that hugged every curve just right, my boobs almost spilling out the bra and cute panties with the red bow on top “you wore this just for me?”

charlie kept my leg lifted placing kisses on my inner thigh finally getting to my heat licking it slightly and eating me like i was his last supper

i pulled on his hair softly throwing my head back at the sudden pleasure

he puts a finger in me still kissing the clit pumping his finger in and out of me he pulls back standing up not letting me reach my climax which caused me to frown at the sudden urge to let go and not being able too

charlie's eyes gleamed with a mix of desire and mischief as he guided me towards the couch, his touch igniting a thrill that danced up my spine. the moment i settled into the soft cushions, i felt the weight of his gaze, like a fire tracing every curve and imperfection only he seemed to elevate to perfection.

my breath hitched, anticipation coiling tightly within me as he slowly unbuckled his pants, revealing the tantalizing outline of his bulge straining against dark, fitted underwear. heat rushed through me, and i couldn't help but gulp at the sight—he was an intoxicating blend of confidence and allure that left me utterly captivated.

charlie pushed me back lightly releasing himself from his underwear “grab your ankles and lay down” i do as told exposing myself to him grunting at the sight he spits on his hard cock jerking off slightly at the sight.

he enters into me, holding my legs and pulling me close, while i grip the soft cushions around me for support. he continues to thrust hard and fast, taking me to a climax that leaves me breathless.

this new sensation enveloped me, igniting a fire within that i could neither quench nor contain; it was a delicious addiction I never wanted to shake off.

charlie's whimpers and moans crescendoed around us, a symphony of ecstasy that threatened to veil my own gasps, which i fought to muffle—desperate to avoid drawing eyes our way

but charlie? he was under no such constraint, reveling in every intoxicating thrill, blissfully unaware of the world outside our bubble. the air crackled with unspoken desires, heightening the thrill, as I tried not to betray the wild yearning surging through every fiber of my being.

his strokes becoming sloppier and slower by the minute.

“so fucking wet and tight”.

i felt him twitching inside of me pulling out and releasing all over my stomach causing me to bit my lip at the unholy sight in front of me.

as charlie gently wiped the droplets of him from my skin with a soft towel, his smile illuminated the moment, filling the air with warmth and tenderness. his small kiss on my forehead felt like a promise of comfort and connection, a sweet reminder of the bond we shared.

as he handed me my dress with a reassuring grip on my hand, I felt an overwhelming sense of support, like he was there not just to help me get dressed, but to wrap me in his unwavering affection

once we were both ready, his arms encircled me in a secure embrace, and just before we stepped back into the world, he leaned in for one last kiss that lingered, an echo of love amidst the laughter and the chaos surrounding us.

as the door clicked shut behind us, a wave of adrenaline surged between us

thankfully, no curious eyes bore witness to our exit, or hell would’ve ensued. charlie led the way to his car, the tension palpable as he opened the passenger door for me, a silent promise hanging in the air that we were in this together

the moment his tires crunched over gravel, i glanced back to see my father emerge from the shadows of our porch, suspicion etched across his face, while charlie’s jaw tightened like a vice as he prepared for the inevitable storm. "someone said something, i know it," i spoke up, and without hesitation, charlie met his gaze with defiance. he might have been crossing a line, but that didn't matter; love was a risk he was more than willing to take—and hell hath no fury like a forbidden love.

[twilghtkoo]

pairings. jungkook x bookworm!reader (f)

genre/aus. fluff, established relationship

warnings. the word smut gets mentioned, jk in that fit

note. i’m a huge book lover and have been busy consuming all romance books in my free time and one part of my brain is just jungkook and another part is filled with all the romantic scenes that happen in the books i read and this idea came up :D lmk if u want more jk x bookworm!reader drabbles i actually loved writing this one so enjoy my brain rot,, likes and reblogs are appreciated ! stay safe <3

[ masterlist ]

—

“how’d you find this place, we’ve never been in this one.” jungkook notes, observes the surroundings of the small book store you both entered. floor to ceiling shelves filled with literature and writing of every genre, in different colors and sizes. warm yellow lighting from the lights in the ceiling and the battery operated candles that are placed randomly throughout the store. there’s greenery scattered along the walls and potted plants on the floor and one next to the register, creating a familiar, welcoming environment.

you can’t help but smile when you walk in. “i took a different route home from class last week and saw this place. i wanted to wait to go with you.” you answer, greeting the woman behind the counter with a soft smile.

you feel his hand blindly reach for yours from behind, you first find his pinky then interlace your fingers with his.

“it feels homey in here.” he thinks aloud, as both of you walk by a red worn out couch.

you lead him through the aisles one by one, not having any interest in the specific genres besides your favorite, but looking at the filled shelves brings you comfort.

“oh! they have comics here.” he points to the aisle across from you and now he’s taking the lead.

a comforting silence falls between you both as you skim through each shelf organized by the marvel universe, dc comics, video games and manga. from the corner of your eye, you see jungkook holding a manga in his hand.

“when was the last time you read one?”

he sighs, “i think when i was young, probably about six years ago to be honest. i don’t really have time now.” he slightly pouts at his statement.

you place your hand on his lower back before rubbing soothing circles. “i know you’ve read that one before. haikyuu,” you read the title out loud.

he nods, closing the book and placing it back with the others. “yeah i read like the first few volumes but never finished it.”

you both look throughout the manga selection some more before you manage to talk him into buying at least two volumes of jujutsu kaisen.

he holds the two books in one hand and holds your hand in his other.

you make it to the romance aisle, and immediately take your time looking around. you always feel overwhelmed in the bookstore and feel like you’re taking too long looking in just one section but jungkook always assures you to take your time and look, that he’s not in a rush.

you pick up a book and examine the cover and pages before reading the back, humming to yourself if one peaked your interest but not enough to hold onto it.

“do these have smut in them?” he blurts out next to you.

your eyes go big and you smack him on the arm. you look at the bright neon green sticky note that’s taped to the shelf with the word ‘spicy’. did they have to make it known to the world?

“would you be quiet?” you whisper-yell at him, trying to contain your laughter.

he rubs his arm where you hit him as his eyes blink innocently. liar.

he lets go of his arm and giggles, pulling you close to his side and kisses the crown of your head. “just messing with you.” he smirks.

you scoff, pushing him away lightly but failing because your boyfriend is 5’10 and muscles.

he lets you continue to look around and he does the same but not with a purpose. but he knows if he pretends to busy himself, you won’t feel rushed. and he wants you to take your time.

by the time you reached the end of the romance aisle, you’re holding two books in your hands. one hardcover and one paperback.

“that’s it? only two books you found?” jungkook stares in disbelief, his eyebrow arched.

“a hardcover is expensive.” you tell him. there were other books you found and wanted, but now that you know this place is here, you’ll stop by again one of these days after class and come back for them if they’re still here.

“babe, go get all the books you want.” he waves you off, but you stay put.

shaking your head, “no, i’ll come back for them one of these days after my classes.”

“go get them now.”

“kook, it’s okay.”

“i know it is, but i want to get them for you anyway. you got a new bookcase with more shelves and you need to fill it up.” he says, peering down at you softly but he’s not giving up.

you did get a new shelf, with your paycheck you decided to spoil yourself and get a new one that had five shelves instead of your three. you had a growing collection and you had a tower of books on your floor. you needed a proper space for them.

you bite your lip. “yeah, but i don’t want you-“

he interrupts you by placing his lips on yours, moving against your lips for only two seconds.

the kiss was so abrupt that it had you in a daze.

“go get the books, hardcover or not. i don’t care yn.” he used your name. not babe or baby.

you sigh in defeat, knowing you lost this battle. jungkook offers to hold your books and you let him, you went back for the books you wanted and carefully stacked them onto his hands. it was only ten books you found, but the stack reached to his chest and you felt bad.

“don’t give me that look, baby.” he tells you as you both make your way up to the front to pay.

the lady’s eyes go wide at the tower of books in his hands, but doesn’t say nothing and scans everything.

you inch closer to his side as the lady tells him the total and it makes you gasp. but jungkook is relaxed as the lady asks if we wanted to sign up to become a member and he doesn’t even bother to ask me as he gives her my number for the future. he finishes by tapping his card onto the machine and grabbing the two bags of books.

you thank the lady and you both leave the store. the sky now different shades of blue, orange and red.

“thank you kook, i really appreciate you.” you tell him thoughtfully, sliding your arm through his and holding onto it. he glances down at you with a soft smile, his piercings shining under the sunset.

he hums. “i love you.”

“i love you.”

[fangswbenefits]

Memories

𓂅 𓄹 Summary: You are ready to tell Miguel he is going to be a father… but he isn’t.

𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

Hurt/comfort. Fluff. I teared up writing this and figured I needed someone else to share the pain with me :D

“Miguel.”

You looked on as the man before your eyes paused the video on the hovering screen.

“It’s late,” he said in a low voice, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “Did something happen?”

The lump in your throat was hard to swallow at first as you realised he was once again replaying old memories. Miguel O’Hara was stuck in the past while trying to preserve the future.

“I have something to tell you.”

You had considered waiting until he got back home, but you needed to let it all out now.

He turned to fully face you and stepped from the platform. The closer he got to you, the more you felt your anxiety soaring.

“Did something happen?” He repeated, planting a soft kiss to your forehead. “You should be home.”

This is what Miguel did. He took care of others. He couldn’t help it, even if his lifelong concern got in between the two of you.

Or three, you should say.

“I wanted to tell you now,” you smiled briefly as you took his hand in yours while taking a deep breath. “I’m pregnant.”

His red eyes widened slightly and then… nothing.

He merely stood there as if frozen in time, the grip on your hand slowly faltering.

“You’re not going to say anything?”

“How?”

You arched an eyebrow. “Really? You’re asking me how?”

“No! I mean…” he shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “When did you find out?”

“Today.”

Giving your hand a final squeeze he let go, his warmth suddenly vanishing.

“Huh… I thought…” your next words died in your mouth and your heart dropped.

Seeing him walk up the platform steps left you speechless. You thought he wanted this… to rebuild the life that he lost.

Tears began to sting your eyes, but you refused to let a single one stream down your face.

A video of his daughter giggling and running around started playing and you saw him clenching his fists. Her giggles echoed through the room breaking the silence that had settled.

“Miguel O’hara, look at me!”

Had this been a mistake? Maybe he wasn’t ready. Maybe you two had rushed things.

“Miguel,” you called out again, anger filling you with such intensity you felt like shooting your webs at his back to have him turn around. “I’m carrying your child. Look at me!”

The cheeky giggles stopped at once and nothing could have prepared you for what came next.

Miguel did what you asked and that’s when you saw a single tear running down his hardened face.

In that moment, your anger shattered and the overwhelming need to take care of him took over.

You promptly joined him on the platform, burying your face in his broad chest. His arms circled you in a tight embrace, and you remained silent for a while.

“I’m broken.”

“Miguel… don’t…”

He heaved a deep sigh. “You deserve better.”

It wasn’t easy to go through his insecurities with him. He had built a wall around him that kept people out.

“I can’t forget her…”

Miguel O’hara had once been responsible for the destruction of

“I don’t want to forget her!” he nearly yelled, pulling you away from his embrace as his red eyes flickered with hurt. “I don’t… I don’t want to move on without the memory of her…”

You brought both hands to frame his face. “Miguel, I am not asking that of you… she will always be part of you.”

He refused to look you in the eye, his jaw tensing.

“I thought you wanted this…” you whispered, voice cracking.

“I do.”

You felt like crumbling down inside. “I thought you’d be happy.”

Miguel’s eyes met yours. “I am.”

“Then…”

He shook his head. “You don’t get it. I’ve been telling myself I’m worthy of a second chance for a long time. I tell that to myself every single day,” he paused momentarily to place a large hand on your belly. “But maybe I am wrong. I’ll mess this up, too.”

Your hand came to rest atop his and you offered a kind smile. “You won’t. You’re still healing. You need—”

All of a sudden both hands came to grip your arms and that’s when you saw panic splattered across his face.

“You don’t get it! I can’t lose you,” he said, eyes darting from your face to your belly. “I do all of this, because I owe an unrepayable debt. My mistake cost the lives of so many. And I’m being selfish again…”

“You don’t get it, do you?” You suddenly said, breaking free from his grip. “Why do you think I chose to be with you? To build a family with you? You’re the most honourable person I know,” you added, not able to hold back a few tears. “Yes, you made a mistake,” his face hardened. “But you paid for it. You paid the highest price.”

He was getting ready to interrupt you, but you raised your hand. “You’re going to be a father again and don’t have to forget her. She lives in you and in all that you do.”

“What would I do without you?” he finally spoke.

You chuckled, placing the softed kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You’d probably set camp here in this room, and live the rest of your lives as a hermit.”

Miguel silently glared at you and when he got down on one knee, you felt all the love and adoration for him crashing down on you.

“You’re going to have an amazing mother,” he whispered softly before placing a kiss over your shirt.

Your fingers tangled in his thick brown hair before pressing the side if his face flat against your belly. “And you’ll the best father.”

[grandline-fics]

Hi!!! I LOVED the unconscious one and I was wondering if you could do a version of that with Law and Sanji?

DESCRIPTION: When you suddenly lose consciousness

WARNINGS: descriptions of fainting/ falling asleep. fluff

CHARACTERS: Law, Sanji, Ace | Luffy, Zoro | Sabo, Killer, Marco

WORDS: 1824

A/N: Thank you for this request! Someone else also requested this prompt so I doubled up the characters. I hope you like what I came up with for this one.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

———————

LAW

You understood Law’s unstoppable need to further his already extensive and impressive medical skills. Every island was researched thoroughly, including the kinds of herbs and other plants that were native to there to use in future medicines he could make. When he ventured to his own lab after an island visit with the newest additions you knew he’d be shut inside for hours on end until he’d found every possible use and countermeasure for his research in the event that anything turned out to be poisonous or bring about negative side affects. 

When night had fallen and there was still no sign of movement or sound of activity from his lab, you volunteered to go and fetch your Captain for dinner. You knew he hadn’t eaten anything since the breakfast you’d all shared together but even then it hadn’t been much given how fast he wanted to dock at the island. Leaning against the cold steel wall of the Tang you lightly knocked on the lab door, listening to the dull echo from inside. Thankfully a more human sound followed, footsteps but he never opened the door. “Captain? It’s time to eat and don’t say you’re not hungry because we both know you haven’t eaten much today.”

“I’ve eaten enough.” Law’s muffled reply came and you scoffed.

“Okay so if I ate what you’d consumed today and then skipped dinner you’d say…?”

“That’s not the point.” You smirked at the grumbled reply, knowing that was the most out of him by means of admitting he wasn’t looking after himself. 

“If I bring you a plate of food will you eat it?” You asked, knowing you had to compromise with him on days like these. 

“Fine…” For someone so serious and in charge all the time, Law really could become a grumpy child at times. Laughing softly you went to the kitchen to grab a plate of food for him. Your plan had been to hand him the food and then return to the dining hall and eat with the others so Law could continue with his work in solitude. Since he knew you were coming back you knocked once on the door and continued inside, not needing to wait. 

However the second you did you were hit with the overwhelming strength of the smell of Law’s different experiments with the plants. One second your vision was clearly on his face, the next it was blurring and you were swaying and toppling over, the plate dropping from your hands. Law saw it happen in slow motion. Immediately he activated his room ability and had you safely in his arms while what would have been his dinner smashed on the ground. Law looked at you and let out a slow sigh. He hadn’t expected that kind of reaction and made a mental note to write down this new outcome from the combination of the plants but that would have to wait. Shifting you so you were held more comfortably in his hold he carried you out of the lab and to his room so you were away from the fumes that caused this in the first place and somewhere you could rest peacefully. You were the priority and he refused to let you out of his sight or hold until you woke up.

SANJI

Another day on the Sunny, another day of typical chaos and noise. By now you were used to it to the point that if things were peaceful for too long you’d be concerned. On today’s schedule of activity Sanji and Zoro were bickering as usual in the build up to lunch time. Franky and Usopp were working on their own separate weapon modifications. When Usopp proudly announced that now his Kabuto was even more improved that practically anyone could use it Luffy loudly demanded to try it out, springing it up from his perch on Sunny’s head. After a lot of back and forth, Usopp gave in to his Captain’s whims and reluctantly handing Kabuto over along with his more harmless ammunition pellets. 

Luffy being in charge of the weapon managed to grab everyone’s attention, even halting Sanji and Zoro’s routine brawl. Even with Usopp’s assurances that everything would be safe, you knew better than to doubt Luffy’s ability to cause trouble even with little to no outside influence. To be on the safe side you abandoned your comfy place on the deck to observe from the kitchen, believing that being in an entirely different room was your best option. Watching in amusement you saw Luffy mostly strike poses with Usopp’s weapon before actually trying to use it and the safe ammunition he’d been given to play with. Then Luffy pulled back the pouch, wondering how far it would go with his added stretching ability. 

However this was something Usopp had never taken into account and when Luffy pulled beyond the strain the weapon was capable of, one of the elastic cables snapped. Not expecting it, Luffy released the weapon and toppled over as the pellet sailed through the air and directly into the kitchen. You didn’t have time to dodge and the tiny blue pellet connected against your shoulder, bursting into a small cloud of smoke. All it took was a small breath and it overcame your senses completely, sending your already unconscious body to the floor. 

Sanji was the first to drop to your side with Chopped quickly behind him. While Chopper checked you over Sanji began yelling at Luffy for being so stupid and at Usopp for being even more idiotic that the Captain by allowing this to even happen. “You better not have harmed a hair on their head or I’m not feeding either of you morons for a week!”

“I promise they’ll wake up!” Usopp insisted while grabbing Luffy to stop him from launching himself at your sleeping form to try and wake you with force at Sanji’s threat of no food. “It’ll just…take a little while.”

“What do you mean a little while!?” Sanji demanded with a glare, his anger faltering when in your sleep you rolled onto your side and relaxed closer beside Sanji, subconsciously seeking the warmth of his hand that was protectively laid on your arm. As reassuring as it was to see you seemed okay and merely sleeping soundly you were still in this situation because of his stupid crewmate and Captain. Quickly he looked to the sniper for his explanation, his anger returning in force.

“W-well I made those sleep stars to ensure whoever we used them against wouldn’t wake up right away and give us all enough time to make our escape if we needed them.”

“How long Usopp?!”

“A few hours at least.” At that revelation and the look of murder in Sanji’s eyes both Usopp and Luffy fled, slamming the kitchen door behind them. Even that didn’t rouse you. Chopper reassured Sanji that you would be okay and also left. With a small sigh, Sanji gathered you into his arms and carried you to the sofa against the wall so you could sleep comfortably while he cooked and could keep a close eye on you at the same time.

ACE

Ace took Whitebeard’s belief that everyone on the ship was a family to heart. As commander of the second division he knew the responsibility on his shoulders to ensure everyone under his command was protected and safe. Did he pay you a little extra attention and ensure you were protected and happy and safe first before the others? Maybe but he couldn’t help it. You were so easy to talk to and work along side. You made his days better and he always had a smile on his face when he was near you. Every morning he woke and would make his way to share breakfast with the crew, his spot at the table almost always either beside or opposite you. So long as you were in range to talk to that was all that mattered.

On this adventure on the winter island, Ace kept a close eye on you. While he could just boost the internal heat of his devil fruit so he couldn’t feel the cold you were left to huddle closer into your thick coat and layers when a surge of bitter wind cut through the air. You suppressed the constant urge to shiver and focused your mind on thinking of other things all the while trying to avoid looking Ace’s way otherwise you would only become increasingly jealous each time you saw how unaffected he was by the snow and cold. He was getting to truly enjoy the beauty of the island and all it had to offer. You wanted to step closer to your division commander but you resisted, not wanting him to think you were only doing so to make use of his body heat. On that principle you held back a little more than you normally would and suffered the cold.

Every step seemed to sap your strength. Even with all of your resilience and training, the walk through the elements like this always took its toll. Ace glanced back when your footing slipped for the third time in twenty minutes and saw the exhaustion clear in your face. The dropping temperature from you both trudging through a shaded area and the day dragging on wasn’t a good combination. “Hey let’s stop for a while, catch our breath?”

“Ace, you don’t need a break.” You protested with a small huff, rubbing your arms as you tried not to get too close to Ace now that he’d stopped. The second you felt his body heat, the second you’d all but give in to his suggestion. 

“Sure I do.” Ace grinned at you, offering you his winning smile, the one that could convince you to do anything. “C’mon please? Feel like you’ve been avoiding me. I don’t stink do I?”

“Oh that’s playing dirty.” You lectured with a small pout. “You know I’m not avoiding you.”

“Prove it.” Ace’s smile broadened into a grin and held out his arms to gesture you to finally come closer. Knowing you didn’t have the energy to resist Ace watched you finally close the distance. When you were in touching distance Ace slung an arm around your shoulder in a light embrace. “There we go! Geez you’re freezing!”

You weren’t even listening to Ace’s comment. The second you were in the warmth your body began to relax and your heavy limbs finally felt lighter. Your eyes began to droop and you let out a long yawn, pressing your head against Ace’s body. Before you knew it Ace had stooped down and lifted you to settle onto his back. He let out a soft laugh at the feeling of your body completely relaxing and sound of your breath evening out. You’d already passed out. “You rest up back there. We’ll be at the town soon.”

——————————————-

TAG LIST (If I’ve missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld , @deathsmajestysworld , @cloudysunset04 , @extremely-ashtridic , @decayingpizza , @liesatemyocean , @ace-for-ace , @nerium-lil , @destynelseclipsa

[borathae]

↳ Index [Day 18 - Male Self-Fuck]

Pairing: Good Boy!Jungkook x whipped Domme!Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, hinted polyamory!AU, hinted Magic!AU

Kinks: there is no greater sub than Kook, holy fuck he is THE sub, he is so deep in subspace, sex in a private spa, foreplay & petting in a whirlpool, then sex in the lounge area, wet!Kook with the biggest puppy eyes, nipple play, whiney!Kook, pleading!Kook, droopy!Kook, devoted!Kook, justttt him being so subbyyy listennn, finger sucking, drool, he kisses her feet, slight thigh riding?, use of lube, male masturbation, male self fucking, male anal, anal fingering, double penetration of his hole with his own dick and her fingers, subby boy tears, praise, good boy kink, loving aftercare, Yoongi makes a non-sexual appearance

Wordcount: 4.7k

a/n: you actually wanted this to happen in the bedroom, but i saw too late that you added a location jfjadfj i hope you forgive me for changing the location, but i just needed to write something about ruining wet hot tub! kook, like, fuck, these puppy eyes ngngnng anyways i’ll be dry heaving now if you need me 🤎

“You know what I’ve been wondering for a while?” 

“What?”

“How it would feel to fuck myself.”

You glance at the side of his face. You and Jungkook are currently relaxing in the indoor pool of the estate. Yoongi built it inspired by Roman baths. The walls and the pool are tiled with small blue tiles, broken up by intricate and colourful detailing. There are statues situated along the walls, beside the big arched windows and the arched doorway. There is even a second floor and a small tiled balcony from which one might jump into the water if one desires to do so. The ceiling is tiled as well, showcasing golden suns against blue skies. Taehyung did most of the tiling when it was built, so he and Yoongi told you. You added your own little touch as well, by filling the room with tropical plants perfect for the humid conditions. The waters are heated by magic-powered generators, carrying many healing minerals and filling the room with a comfortable steam. 

When the months get colder again, you and the others often find yourselves relaxing in the warm water. Entirely naked of course because there won’t be any other people disturbing you. 

Well, except for maybe right now. Jungkook is sitting on the underwater bench of the whirlpool section of the bathhouse. You sit in his lap, chest pressed against his’ and chin resting on his shoulder. He has one hand on your lower back and the other on your butt. You weren’t always on his lap, but decided to hide away when a cleaning staff came to wipe some of the windows down. They have left by now, but you never left Jungkook’s lap, currently lifting your head to look into his eyes. 

“What did you just say?”

“I said I’m wondering how it would feel to fuck myself.”

“Why are you thinking about that?” 

“Because first of all, you’re warm and you smell nice and you’re sitting on me. That naturally makes me horny.”

You chuckle because he is silly. 

“Second of all, I’m sitting directly over a jet and the bubbles feel nice on my hole.”

You don’t chuckle anymore because he is hot and that turns you on a little. 

“And third of all, I was forced to my luck because last night, I got a video on my timeline about a guy putting his own dick up his ass and I can’t get the image out of my head.”

“Okay first of all, what kind of timelines do you have?”

“Hey, it’s not my fault that Taehyung reblogs the horniest stuff sometimes.”

“Touché”, you say and chuckle, “but still.” You pinch his nipples playfully, making him whimper and give you puppy eyes. “That’s so random to think about.”

“Why is it random? Please don’t take your hands away.”

You stop in your task of pulling your fingers away from his nipples, rolling your eyes fondly. 

“You should get your nipples checked. It’s insane how much you like getting them touched”, you tease him, rubbing and pinching his nipples playfully. 

Jungkook’s eyes just go a little droopy and submissive and so perfectly pleading. He looks so much better now with his wet hair and wet skin and wet puppy look. 

“Is not my fault that you…I…hng, ___”, he wanted to talk normally, but ends up whimpering and dropping his head against your chest, fingers squeezing your softness. 

You chuckle fondly, giving his nipples an especially good pinch. He mewls and rolls his hips up, naturally moving you on his lap this way. 

“Mhm, you’re cute”, you say and take the pleasure away. 

“Please”, Jungkook begs, looking up at you with big, round puppy eyes. 

You however, simply give him a smile and bury your fingers in his hair, scratching his scalp slowly. You press yourself a little closer, allowing your breasts to rub against his nipples. They are so fucking swollen and erect. He is so delicious. 

“So I’ve been in the belief that we’re enjoying a calm, romantic spa day while in reality you’ve been thinking about sticking your own dick up your own ass the entire time?”

“Not the entire time. Just once you sat down on me and the water started going up my butt”, he is having a small lisp. He always talks like this when you have him droopy and submissive. 

You chuckle softly and trace his lips with your pointer finger. He parts them, moaning sweetly as he chases your touch. Gosh, his eyes. They’re prettiest when he uses them to look at you like the good submissive sweetheart he is. 

“You’re such a delight, Jeon Jungkook. Keep being like this and I might need to eat you whole.”

“If you do, please drag it out.”

You laugh. Jungkook mewls and falls even deeper into subspace. He takes your fingers into his mouth, sucking on them eagerly. His puppy eyes never break their connection with you, hazy and glassy. His mouth and tongue are warm, soft and so wet. You curse under your breath, rolling your hips back and forth on his muscular thigh.

This was once harmless teasing and flirting, but long stopped being that. You are so turned on. Everything inside you screams at you to make him your well-fucked boy. 

With your eyes drinking up the perfect view (one must know that his lips look so pouty and puffy wrapped around a bunch of fingers and that the inner corners of his brows are lifted in a needy beg), you talk to him. 

“What if you get to try?”

He mewls, eyes clouding over in confusion. 

“What if I get someone to bring us lube and you get to fuck yourself?”

He slips off your fingers, sighing out a needy, “what?”

“You heard me. I’ll call someone to get lube and then you’ll fuck yourself. Right here, in this bathhouse, in the lounge.”

In the walls, nestled between pillars and an arch, Yoongi made built-in-lounges. They are also tiled, but are covered in soft towels and pillows. Warm ceiling lights, tangling from the arches, illuminate each of the eight lounge areas. They are big enough to house two people comfortably and three if the people are not opposed to cuddling.

“And you?”

“I’ll watch and help.”

Jungkook gulps, opening his mouth afterwards. He nods his head. 

“Please”, he whimpers. 

“I can’t hear you”, you tease him, knowing that he gets crazy for it. 

“Please Mistress”, he begs louder, widening his eyes cutely. 

 “Mhm that’s better”, you praise and give his nipples a little pinch, just enough to make him moan. 

Nothing more however. Just one pinch to scramble his brain. Then you already climb off of him and get out of the water, using his shoulder to support yourself on. You even have the audacity to step over him, forcing him to be face to face with your warmed up, wet pussy. 

Jungkook sobs softly, chasing you with parted lips and glassy eyes. He tilts his head back as far as possible, snapping for you helplessly but you never allow him a taste. The only thing which hits his lips, is the water dripping off of you. He has to give up, dropping his head against the edge of the pool.

“Oh my god”, you get to listen to him mewl, smiling to yourself. This was a first to him. You can tell from how ruined he sounds. You don’t let it tempt you, walking to your towel to dry yourself off enough that you can use your phone. You text Yoongi then turn to Jungkook. 

He turned in the whirlpool, clearly kneeling on the tiled bench and gazing up at you. His hands are folded, resting against the edge. 

“What’s the matter?”

“Nobody ever did that to me.”

“Well, there is a first for everything.”

“Are you an angel? Or a demon? Were you sent to ruin me?”

You laugh, patting your chest dry, “what are you saying, silly?”

“You make me feel things I’ve never felt before. I’m with you and I feel droopy. You, you talk to me and I get dizzy. You do stuff like this and I want to be nothing but yours. What are you?”

You close the distance and squat down. Jungkook moans, eyes glued to your pussy which you so confidently present to him. He drools just from the view of you. Honestly and literally drools. 

You take his chin between your fingers and tilts his head up, whipping the spit from his mouth. 

“I’m simply me, silly”, you coo and pull him into a kiss. 

Jungkook moans, chasing you by lifting his bum from his heels and hooking his fingers behind your neck. He wants to tongue kiss you, but you don’t let him, pulling back and leaving him craving more.

“Please”, he whispers, eyes glued to your lips. 

“Mhm”, you hum and wipe his mouth. You don’t give in. You deny him more by standing up. 

Jungkook touches your ankles, he grips them downright, looking up at you with sad puppy eyes. 

“Please.”

“Let go of me, Kook.”

“Please, one more kiss please.”

You squat down. Jungkook moans, practically crawling out of the pool to get his kiss. Like this, his butt is presented to the entire room and he has one knee already outside, digging into the floor. His hands are supporting his weight as well, muscles of his arms tensing. Look at him, like a wet little puppy begging for breath after escaping the sea. Except that the breath he craves is your kiss. He moans again when you cradle his face, eyelids lowering and head leaning into your hands. 

You would have kissed him, you really would have, if Yoongi hadn’t interrupted you by clearing his throat loudly. You turn your head away from Jungkook. The latter needs a moment longer before he manages to do the same. 

“You know what? I wanted to ask questions but I think it’s best I just give you the fucking lube and leave”, Yoongi says, showing you the bottle of lube. Judging by the glimmer in his eyes, the first thing he saw when he entered the spa was Jungkook’s exposed ass. He doesn’t let it show however, looking at you nonchalantly. 

You stand up, ignoring the agonised whimper Jungkook lets out. You also ignore how he instantly hugs your legs and tries to get your attention by kissing your lower stomach over and over again. Yoongi studies him for a moment, then looks at your tits before landing on your face. He cocks his brow up. 

“What?” you challenge him. 

“Did you use magic on him?”

“No. Why?”

“Cause he is under a spell.”

“He gets like this when I’m being good to him.”

Yoongi scoffs in amusement and hands you the lube. You grin, accepting it. Jungkook mewls and tries to bury his face in your pussy. You wobble because of it, twisting his hair in warning. Yoongi merely hums and talks nonchalantly.

“Just tell me afterwards. I see you two are well occupied”, he says and steals a chaste kiss, “try not to accidentally get him pregnant or something”, he jokes, turning his back to you to leave. 

“Don’t worry, he’ll get himself pregnant. I’m just watching.”

Yoongi lingers in the doorway, looking over his shoulder in confusion. He gives up soon with a shake of his head. 

“I’ll just ask later”, he murmurs and leaves the room, closing the door behind him. 

You snicker. You knew that asking him for the favour would be the right decision. He is so funny without even trying and he didn’t ask any prying questions. It’s perfect because you really want to get back to Jungkook. 

Speaking of Jungkook, he has now resorted to kissing your feet in an attempt to warm your heart. Not that he needs to work for that. Your heart has been beating solely for him ever since he dropped his sinful confession. 

“Look up at me, sweetie”, you order him. 

Jungkook obeys. He is kneeling, folded hands on his lap and eyes so perfectly submissive. His hair and skin are still dripping water, his nipples are swollen and casting shadows, his cock is hard as well and it is wet, so wet. His groomed pubes are wet as well, glimmering in the lights because of the droplets of water reflecting the beams. 

You cup his cheek. He leans into your touch, eyes becoming droopy and happy. 

“Has anyone ever told you that your naked body is so fucking perfect?”

Jungkook moans softly, squirming needily. 

You trace his lips, his philtrum and the slope of his nose before ending your touch by outlining his perfect brows. 

“It is. Literally perfect. Just like your face”, you say softly, dragging an emotional mewl from his lips. 

He puts his hands on your calves as a silent beg for more.

“My perfect Jungkook”, you whisper, bending down to kiss his forehead. 

He whimpers shakily and as you straighten up to look at his face, you watch tears roll down his cheeks. You know that they are of happy nature, that your praise brought him into a subspace of good feelings and happiness. So you wipe them away without worry. 

“Are you happy?” 

“Yes, so happy”, he gets out, leaning into your touch.

“Stand up and get comfortable on the bed.”

Jungkook manages to obey your order after you helped him to his feet. You follow him, watching patiently as he gets comfortable. He decides to lie down on his back, propping his feet up and resting his head back into the pillows. Neither you nor he cares that he soaks the fabrics with water. You have more pressing matters to attend to. 

You climb on the lounge as well, staying on your knees and running your hands down the inside of his thighs. Jungkook sighs, parting his legs further and looking up at you as if you could claim him entirely. Such a strong, muscular man and yet right now, he looks small and weak and ready to be taken. 

You give him a smile, “you’re seriously the most perfect man, my Kookie. Are you excited?”

“Yes”, he gets out, nodding his head. 

You lean down, pressing your hips into him and touching his hair. You claim his lips in a kiss. Jungkook moans, arching his back and grasping you tightly. His legs lock around your hips, his fingers dimple your flesh from desperation. This is everything he wanted and it feels as if you just sunk yourself into him. He curls his toes the very same, tightening his walls just like he would with you inside him and feeds you a submissive whimper like he always does when you reshape him to fit you. 

He also gasps the very same when you break the kiss. You smile, stubbing his nose with your own. 

“You have to let go of me if you wanna do what you wanna do.”

“I’m sorry I…” he drops his legs, mewling softly. 

“Good boy, such a good boy”, you praise him and move back. You sit down on the edge of the lounge, eyes glued to him. 

All you have to give him is a nod of your head and Jungkook knows what to do. He picks up the lube bottle and opens it, covering his hand with a good amount. He drops it by his side and picks up his cock, rubbing the lube all over his balls and shaft. 

He instantly moans, arching his back. It feels so good and feels even better because he knows that you are watching him. 

“There we go, such a good boy”, you praise, sending his nerves into overdrive. 

You are watching him. Holy fuck. Jungkook begins to feel impatient from need. Normally he would work himself up, drag it out, go slow. But he can’t anymore. You have him enchanted and running on nothing but the desire to feel good. He begins to try, bending his cock to one side in an attempt to guide his tip to his hole. He struggles. It pinches and burns. 

“Does it hurt?” 

“A little.”

“Try to breathe, sweetie. I’m right here.”

Jungkook takes a shaky breath and tries again. It burns a little, but doesn’t hurt. He manages to bend his cock enough that he can grace his rim with it. It feels so good that he lets go in shock, closing his legs instinctively. 

Afterwards he just kind of lays there, panting and staring at the ceiling. There are lots of thoughts in his mind right now. Ecstatic thoughts as much as doubtful thoughts. He can’t decide to which he wants to listen. 

Suddenly a pair of warm, tender hands part his legs for him and his mind goes quiet. He shifts his eyes to you, whimpering your name. You speak to him like an angel, glowing just as much and smiling so beautifully. Oh, Jungkook is so safe right now. 

“Don’t be nervous. I’m right here. Tell me what’s bothering you right now.” 

“It, it’s difficult to bend. It hurts in a, a weird way.”

“I see. Well if you asked me, I think your cock’s a little too hard to move how you need him to. Why don’t you tell me something boring?”

“I don’t know if it’ll work.”

“Why not?” you chuckle 

“Because I’m with you”, he says and spills tears. 

“Gosh you”, you coo, wiping them away, “fine, then I’ll help you. What’s twenty times three?”

“Uh, sixty?”

“Correct. What a good boy. What’s ten time five minus eight?”

“Wait. Uhm…uh…fourty..two?”

“Correct again. Now a more difficult one. What’s sixteen times twelve?”

“Oh god, I don’t know. I can’t do maths”, he whines.

“Try. For me.”

“Uhm..uuuh, something with hundred? hundred and ninety sex? I, I meant six.”

You chuckle, “you’re adorable, but incorrect. It’s a hundred and ninety two.”

Jungkook huffs out air in frustration. 

“Good news though. Your cock is soft enough to bend it.”

Jungkook looks down with parted lips. You chuckle and kiss his knee, resting your cheek on it afterwards. You smile at him with so much love in your eyes.

“You really hate maths, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do”, he chuckles breathily, squirming. 

“You cutie”, you snicker and kiss his inner thigh. You sit back afterwards. “Go ahead then. Try for me.”

Jungkook obeys gladly. He takes his cock and twists it so his tip was facing his hole. He moans, dropping his head in the pillows. 

“That was easy. Did that feel good right now?”

“Yes, so good”, he whimpers, pushing himself farther. He connects his tip with his rim, rubbing it up and down. He arches off the lounge, letting out a desperate moan. 

“Fuck, that’s hot”, you rasp, sliding your own hand between your legs, “how does that feel for you?”

“Like, ah, like I’m, ah, I’m fucking and getting fucked at the same time, ah”, he gets out, and mewls, “I wanna stick it in, oh god.”

“Then do. I’m not stopping you.”

“___”, Jungkook moans, obeying you. He never did something like this before so it is a surprise that he manages to nail it with the first try. It is really obvious however that it is his first time once he actually managed to push himself past his tight rim and the sensations set in. 

The noise Jungkook makes is sacrilegious, the face he makes will be burned into your memories forever. The view of it is the most ruining part of all. His tight, flushed rim so snuck around his own shaft. He is both being penetrated and doing the penetration.

“Holy fuck. How does it feel?” you croak. 

Jungkook gives you a moan. No words, just sounds. He can’t talk. He couldn’t. It feels too good. His hole gets stretched and stuffed while at the same time, his cock gets squeezed by tight walls. He didn’t think that it would feel that good, but it does.

“It’s so sexy to look at. Holy fuck, Kook. Try to move it, okay?”

Jungkook obeys with a whimper, wailing up the moment he moves his cock inside him. He instantly hardens, cock bopping out on its own and flopping against his stomach. 

“No”, he sobs, “no, fuck. No please.”

“Fuck, did it feel that good?”

“Yes. Please more please.”

“Holy fuck Kook”, you growl, “go on, stuff your balls inside.”

“Oh god”, he croaks and obeys with shaking fingers. He pulls them down to his hole and applies pressure. He should struggle, it should be difficult to do, but it isn’t. His big, heavy balls slip into his hole easily. First the right then the left. His skin stretches and burns a little.

Jungkook sobs, toes curling on the towel. You curse, picking up speed between your legs. 

“That’s it, baby. How does it feel?” 

“I can’t”, he sobs, writhing helplessly. 

“Not a fan?”

“No. Fan. Feels so good. Oh god, so good.”

“Fuck Kook, you’re so fucking sexy. Holy fuck.”

Jungkook sobs because it is all that he can do and begins to move his balls inside him. He flinches with each movement, reaching up with his other hand to twist his own hair in disbelief. Because his balls are so big, his hole gets stretched so wide. In return, his balls get squeezed so hard because of how tight he still is. Jungkook is on a constant wave of warm pleasure and blissful pain. The intense stretching of his hole feels so warm, the squeeze of his balls so painful. Jungkook is in his own masochistic heaven, crying hot tears as he works himself dangerously close to an orgasm. 

“This is insane, Kook. Fucking insane”, your voice is distorted in hunger and lust, spurring him on to push himself past his own limits. “Put your cock inside too. Try it for me.”

Jungkook scrambles to fulfill your wish. The pain on his balls was enough to force his cock to soften and it is an easy task for him to bend it to its position. He doesn’t know if he can take more. His balls are so big inside his poor hole, but he has to try. For you. You told him to. Jungkook pushes himself past his own limits with little care of going slow. 

He manages to get out one sound and then his mouth falls open to let out silent screams. 

“Holy. Fuck.” judging by how ruined you sound, the view of it must be incredibly hot. “Kook. Holy fuck. Look at you taking all of yourself.” 

“___”, he sobs, eagerly working to thrust his cock and balls into his own hole. He won’t last long. It feels too good. The tears don’t stop. He can barely even breathe through his nose at this point from how snotty he is. He lulls your name again, drooling down his own cheeks because he unlearned how to swallow. 

“Holy fuck Kook, I’m going insane”, you moan, feeling dizzy. You didn’t believe him at first when he told you about a guy doing it to himself. You were so wrong. It is possible and Jungkook looks so good taking it that you might never get over this view. 

You scoot closer, touching his inner thigh with your unoccupied hand. Jungkook flinches into the touch, trying so hard to look at you through his tears. You have a crazy look on your face. It’s so hot to him that he sobs again and spills precum into his own ass. It smears all over his walls and balls, forcing electric pleasure through his veins. He is marking himself with his own spill. Jungkook hates that he can’t stop crying, but it’s the only way to handle what he is doing to himself. 

“Can I feel it? Please?” 

He doesn’t quite understand what you are insinuating but he still nods his head. You could do anything to him when he’s in such a state. He feels safe because he knows that you would never go too far. 

“Fuck. Thank you”, you croak and slip your hand between his legs. You pick up some of the lube and by the time Jungkook finally realises what you are planning to do, it is already too late. You push two of your fingers into his already stuffed hole, joining his cock and balls. The stretch burns and forces his body to convulse. But what truly ruins him is how you wiggle your fingers inside him to get a good feel. 

“Kook, you-”

You don’t get to finish your sentence before he silences you with his orgasm. It started with his eyes rolling back to the point you fear for them to get stuck, then continued with his body tensing up and his legs closing around your body accidentally. Then it hits him. Deep and punishing it shakes him. His cock is instantly hard, bopping out of his own ass to spill the rest of his cum all over your hand and himself. He spilled enough inside him however that it sticks to your fingers and his walls as well, forcing his throbbing balls to rub all over his prostate. You help with that as well. pressing them against the sensitive spot so he can cum with every single spot of his body. 

“Mistress!!” he screams, making noises of utter bodily ruin afterwards. 

“Good boy, oh god Kook”, you moan, orgasming from the sight of him. It feels so good to share this state with him. “Cum for me. Good boy, such a good boy.”

You might fear for his tear ducts from how much he cries and sobs and wails. And he takes it so well. So fucking well that it is difficult not to continue ruining him after his high dies down. 

“Please no more please”, he begs you, gripping your wrist desperately. You know that he had enough. 

“Fuck, you good boy”, you praise, pulling out groggily. 

“Oh god, oh god”, Jungkook chants between his ragged breaths, trying with shaking fingers to pull his balls out. His hole is so tight from his orgasm that he struggles at first. 

So you help him, rubbing his rim gently and kissing his knee, “good boy, relax. You’re almost there.”

Jungkook shudders. The struggle looks painful.

“Try to squeeze them out, baby. Like you would when you’re douching. Squeeze and pull, baby.” 

He tries again. You watch in delight how his tight rim begins bulging as it loses its battle against his balls. 

“There we go. I can see them, baby. Just keep breathing and squeezing.”

First the left then the right. He flinches and mewls with each one, dropping his legs open once it is finally done. His balls, stretched and squeezed to their limits, hang between his legs ruined. His hole is so gaped, spilling his own cum. 

You instantly claim the emptiness between his legs, kissing a hungry path up his body. He tastes sweaty and feels hot. You purr and moan as you enjoy his body post orgasm, nibbling on his neck especially hungrily. 

Jungkook soaks up your affection with a dizzy head and little whimpers each time he breathes out. 

“What a good boy, holy fuck”, you rasp, kissing his ear. 

Jungkook reaches up to hold your wrists. You instantly take his hands to pin them above his head, lowering yourself to your elbows. Like this, your breasts melt with his chest and he gets to feel your middle against his sensitive middle. 

“How are you feeling? How was it?”

“A lot”, he gets out, voice still frail from the intense pleasure he was on. 

“Yes? You looked and sounded like it was. Fuck, I can’t believe you actually did that. You’re such a good boy.”

“Oh god”, Jungkook croaks and sobs softly, rolling his head to the side. 

“Hey sweetie”, you gasp, cupping his cheek to make him look at you. You wipe his tears. “What’s wrong? Are you sub dropping?”

He shakes his head, “just can’t stop crying. It felt so good.”

“Yes?”

He nods his head and forces a smile to his lips. They are shaking, but his smile is honest. You retort it, soothing him by caressing his cheekbone.

“Well, that’s good to hear then”, you whisper, “my good boy. Now we can officially say that I’ve got you pregnant with your own children.”

“Don’t say that, oh my god”, he whines and giggles.

You chuckle, leaning down to kiss his forehead. He chases the affection, still giggling.

“You’re adorable. Gosh Kookie, my sweetie you.”

“___”, he gets out and hugs you, giggling into your chest and kicking his feet. There is nothing better than riding on warm, happy afterglow with you.

[criminalamnesia]

ok this is the end of the little tolerate it series— BUT I’m writing two different endings!! so here’s ending 1 :)

part one here and part two here

ending version 2 here

when he saw you that day on the street and tried to stop you, you had kept walking. hadn’t even turned your head, as if you knew it was him speaking.

of course you’d known it was him. he couldn’t blame you for ignoring him, honestly— he had been awful to you. he fully recognized that now, after years of being alone and mandated therapy and an honorable discharge.

he recognized how he let the one good thing in his life slip through his fingers, all because he was too damn wrapped up in himself. but he had a right to be.

he had a right to not want to celebrate coming home. had a right to want peace and quiet once escaping from the sounds of war and death. he just should’ve communicated that with you instead of pulling away.

he’s grown. he understands now. and he knows you don’t owe him anything— hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if you slapped him across the face for this, but he needed to try.

he knew it was selfish of him. you’d moved on, surely. years had passed and you’d grown. he’s sure that naivety he once found charming is long gone, most likely from his doing.

he takes a deep breath, fist raised to knock on the door to your house. it’s small and quaint. something he definitely could’ve seen you picking out when the two of you had still been together. maybe not all of you had changed.

he’d gotten the address through Laswell as a parting gift. and he didn’t know why it was the one thing that came to mind— but it was, and now he’s here. standing on your porch with his fist in the air like a fucking creep.

he pushes out an exhale and knocks. all is silent inside the house, and he knocks again, the second one easier than the first.

“coming!” he hears you call from inside. he steels himself. readies himself for attack, for battle. it was something he couldn’t quite shake, even if he’d been retired for a year now. those instincts really never leave you.

the door swings open, and the smile you were sporting instantly drops.

“what are you doing here?” there’s venom in your tone. he doesn’t shy away.

“love—” he begins, but you scoff and start to shut the door.

“actually, I don’t want to know. get off my porch before I call the cops—”

before the door can click shut, he reaches a hand out and blocks you from fully shutting it. you look down at his hand, bewildered.

“move your hand.” you speak through gritted teeth. he stands his ground.

“love,” he starts again, pushing the words out quickly to avoid getting cut off again. “y’don’t owe me anythin’ and I know that. but can I at least apologize? please?”

you stare at him. he keeps his hand in the door, watching your face intently. he can’t tell what’s going on behind your eyes.

you take a beat. two. three. then you shut your eyes tightly as you inhale, open them as you release the breath, and open the door wider.

“you’ve got five minutes to speak your piece, and I hope you know I’m doing this for you, not me. I got over you a long time ago, and because I see myself as a halfway decent person, I’m going to let you do this. then you can leave and never come back. understand?”

he gives a small nod. “understood.”

you step aside and he enters your house, eyes already scanning his surroundings. it’s cute and airy, comfortable and full of you.

pictures of you and friends on the walls. lamps that look a hundred years old on end tables. big windows letting the sun shine in and onto a plethora of plants. colorful artwork and pillows and fabrics. it’s a house full of you, of life, and he finds himself envying it.

he doesn’t know why. maybe because it’s something so normal, and something he’s never experienced. he didn’t get that before he left home, and he certainly didn’t get it in the military. he still doesn’t have it now. he’s still struggling to figure out who he is without a gun in his hand.

“nice place,” he says, and he means it.

you roll your eyes as you walk towards the blue, comfortable looking couch situated to the right. he follows dutifully.

you gesture towards the couch, and he takes the hint. he sits down, sinking into the cushion, and watches as you move to stand across from him. he knows you’re putting distance between the two of you. he doesn’t blame you.

you were never the problem.

he was.

“five minutes, starting now. best believe I’m timing your ass,” you mutter out, pulling your phone from your pocket and tapping the screen. setting a timer, most likely.

best to get on with it, then.

“I owe you an apology, and I ‘ave since y’left. before tha’, actually. I was an ass, and I know tha’ now. you had every right to leave, and you have every right to hate me—”

you gave a mirthless, hollow laugh and crossed your arms over your chest. you were putting up your walls, protecting yourself.

“you put me in therapy, did you know that? years of it. broke me down and crushed me into tiny pieces. made me think I was the problem, that I deserved to be treated that way. ruined my trust and my confidence.”

your tone was bitter. your nails dug into the skin of your arms.

“you were never the problem,” he says, his words firm. he stand then, hands hanging loosely at his sides. “I was. I know tha’ now. I pulled away when I should’ve communicated, or hell— broke things off sooner.”

“so that’s why you’re here then? to tell me you wished you would’ve broken up with me before I broke up with you?”

god, that was not what he meant, and he struggled to find the way to put his thoughts into words.

“no, f’course not, love. I’m tryin’ to say I strung y’along, made things worse, and—”

“and what?” you interrupted.

“an’ im sorry, love. I know it probably doesn’t mean anythin’ anymore. but i am. deeply.”

you didn’t speak for a minute. your eyes studied his face. he knew you were probably taking in the obvious signs of age, of battles he came back from when you were no longer there.

“you going on a suicide mission? is that why you’re here? making amends before you die so you can face the afterlife with a clear conscience?”

he shook his head, taking a small step forward. “no. I— I was discharged. a bit ago, actually.”

“congrats,” you deadpanned.

“tha’s not tha’ point,” he sighed. “they made me go to therapy for a while. unpack all tha’ shit they put me through. and the shrink brought up you once, and it got me thinkin’—”

“so you’re here because your shrink told you to say sorry?”

“bloody hell, love, let me finish,” exasperation was clear in his tone, but he tried to reel it in. he reminded himself that you didn’t owe him shit. you could kick him out right now. he was here because of your allowance, and the second you stopped tolerating him, he’d be back on the porch.

you raised your eyebrows but kept your mouth clamped shut.

“I was an ass when I was with you, and tha’s on me, not you. I was dealin’ with my own shit, and havin’ you celebrate me and boastin’ about my bravery and shit— it didn’t— I couldn’t stand it. you don’t understand, love, and you never will— and tha’s not your fault. s’mine, and I’m still comin’ to terms with all tha’ shit. and I should’ve communicated tha’ with you instead of pullin’ away.”

silence filled the air between the two of you. he could hear the tick of a clock nearby. two ticks. three ticks. four. five.

“what do you want from me, then?” you spoke, and your voice was soft. he could hear the tremble in it— that old you slipping back in, and god he wanted to hold you.

he remembered loving you. he still knew what that felt like, even if was so long ago. and that love was creeping back in, that need to protect you coming back like a tidal wave.

“nothin’.” he said.

“nothing.” you repeated. he nodded.

the timer on your phone went off. five minutes, on the dot.

you clicked it off and looked at him. he was already moving towards the door.

“wait—” you called out to him, and as he turned back to face you, he could tell you hadn’t meant to. it had slipped out subconsciously, and he could see you fighting yourself on what your next words would be.

“I— I don’t forgive you,” you told him. “I don’t know if I ever will. but I— you don’t deserve to be alone. not after all you’ve done.”

he looked at you, the fingers of his hands twitching as he waited for you to speak again.

you took a deep breath and turned your attention to your feet. “I’m here. if you need someone to talk to about whatever. um— I—”

“it’s alrigh’, love. y’dont have to say anythin’ you don’t mean.”

you shook your head. “I do mean it. I admired you when we were together, y’know? you were everything to me— and that’s not something that ever fully goes away. I kinda hate you for everything you did,” you gave a small laugh. “but I don’t want you to suffer, okay? maybe we can— can get coffee or something next week. yeah?”

your eyes were glassy. he resisted the urge to reach for you. he was a protector, it was in his nature. he’d been too wound up in himself back then to realize that the trait he’d showcased on the battlefield should’ve applied to his home life, too. applied to his relationship. to you.

“yeah.” he nodded, his voice soft. he gave you a small smile. “tha’ would be nice.”

you nodded. he looked at you for a moment longer, taking in everything that had changed. but there was still the hint of that naive, youthful you, and that made him smile a little wider.

he turned and walked out the door.

————

author’s note:

muahahahaha ambiguous ending. do they get back together?? no?? do they ever get coffee?? it’s up to you!

this is ending one, keep a look out for ending 2 :)

[random2908]

Here’s something I’ve told a few people in their mid-late 30s over the past few years. Including myself.

Now’s a great time to take stock:

In order to feel you’re living the life you want, or that you’re who you want to be, what do you want your life to look like at 40? What do you want to have done, what do you want to be doing, what do you want to have? Forget the past, forget missed opportunities--everyone makes bad decisions, everyone misses opportunities, everyone has doors closed, it’s the nature of living in a finite timeline. None of that actually matters to this thought exercise. All that matters is the future, and the present as it relates to the future: what direction are you going in? What direction do you want to be going in?

You don’t have to start from an empty sheet of paper with this thought exercise. Think of all the goals you had when you were younger, maybe in your teens or 20s. Some of those are not still going to be things you want. Some of those you might still want but other things have taken higher priority. But it’s a starting point. Fill out your mental list.

A relationship, or kids, or a house, or a specific career, or specific hobbies or skills, or whatever concrete thing that it is that you want. If what you want is to not be a nobody, well, that’s dumb; nearly everyone’s a nobody to the wider world, and nearly no one’s a nobody to the people close to them. If you pick something abstract like that you can’t ever reach it, because you’ll just keep moving your own goalposts until it becomes something literally impossible.

So make a list of concrete, actionable things that you want.

Circle the one that are most important to you, like, top 2.

Now start walking toward those things.

(When you’re comfortably headed toward those top 2 things that you want, if you still have spare energy you can start going farther down the list. Make your ideal life! But prioritize.)

Do you want more friends, more connections with people? Think of activities that you like--hiking, singing, painting, whatever. Find groups that do those things and become a regular in those groups. For example, instead of painting at home go to some shared studio space (sometimes community centers or community colleges or art institutes have these). Go at the same time every week, so you’re meeting the same people every week, because that’s what it takes to make a connection. Or get on the Sierra Club mailing list or the local county parks mailing list and go on all the hikes. Join a choir, volunteer at a charity, whatever. If you have nothing in particular, but there is a religion you like, start going to religious services, because this is the main reason why other people will be at religious services.  Whatever it is, it will take months--making friends is slow anywhere except a school environment--but it will happen. Don’t say no to invitations unless you really can’t make it, until you have enough of a social life that missing some bonding time with a new person won’t matter. Friendship is 95% just about showing up.

Are you single but want a relationship? Ask your friends to set you up. Set up an account in a dating app. (This is admittedly something I don’t know a ton about--I last went on a date when I was 27, and I last willingly went on a date when I was 23.)

Do you want kids? I know at least two people who have gone the artificial insemination route because they wanted kids so badly they were willing to be single parents. Or, alternatively, go through the process of finding a relationship first. Or, if you’re wealthy enough, some jurisdictions will let single people adopt, so you can look into that. If you really want kids, and you’re in a relationship with someone who doesn’t, your mid-30s are when you have to decide which you want more. (That’s what led to at least one of the artificial insemination decisions among my friends.) (Personally, I did want kids, but not badly enough to be a single mother, and not badly enough to try dating, so I crossed that off my list as non-viable. It’s ok to revise your priorities!)

(Some people--I guess a majority of people--can’t just endogenously produce their own children, so if you’re in that situation, not in a relationship, and you want kids, that’s admittedly going to be harder. You can look for more difficult, creative solutions like adoption, fostering, or even finding a surrogate. Or you can decide some things don’t work out sometimes, grieve a bit, and move on. You can be part of the village helping raise your friends’ kids, at least.)

What about career? Are you ok with your career? Do you want a different one? You know what, you can change careers! You can take night classes. You can just put yourself out there and apply to things you aren’t really qualified and try to learn on the job. I know several people who had huge career changes. My grandfather started an apprenticeship at age 40. A friend of mine, who had been a professional music composer and a science museum docent, decided in their mid-30s to go to grad school, and they’re now a biology professor. I went to trade school for a bit for machining/CNC, and half the students were over 30--some were over 50--looking for a career change. Or if the career’s ok but the job sucks--hit the bricks. I was in what could have been my forever-job last year--certainly my boss assumed I’d be there forever--but I decided I hated my boss and I just walked out. Got a new job doing basically the same thing (just different enough to not violate my non-compete), but out in California--thousands of miles closer to my family, with better weather, better amenities, and (adjusting for cost of living) the same pretty good pay--just two months later. My sister-in-law did the exact same thing last summer, and my brother did the exact same thing the previous year, modulo different locations.

Hobbies? That one’s easy, in principle: set aside some time every weekend and do the hobby you want to do, for at least a couple months.

Travel? There are so many opportunities for travel. If you can’t afford plane tickets--well, my family went on so many cool road trips when I was a kid.

Whatever it is that’s not going the way you want, you can make that change. You can put yourself on the path that you want.

When you get to--well, whatever age, but my case 40--you don’t have to have everything you want. A year ago, when I was handing out this advice, I was confident that I did have everything that I’d decided to prioritize, and at 40 I’d have no regrets. And then I uprooted my whole life in the past several months; I’m about to turn 40 and I don’t still have some of the things I want. But you know what? It’s because I course-corrected. I fixed some things (mainly my work life), and gave up others (mainly, the community I’d built up in Michigan) in the process--but I’m on a better course now. (And just because my old friends aren’t nearby to be community to me anymore doesn’t mean I’ve lost them as friends. It’s not like I’m alone in this world.) I can build new community while not having an abusive boss. At 40, I won’t yet have everything I want, but I’m on the path I want. I’m still actively interrogating my needs as a fully-realized person and turning toward the direction I need to go to meet them, so I still don’t have regrets.

And really, I think that’s what’s important. Not where you are, who you are, what you have right now, but whether you’re headed in the direction you want. And if the answer is no, well, now’s always a great time act on that.

(I’m not saying any of this is easy. Changing your life, if your life isn’t what you want it to be, isn’t easy. I’m just saying, this is a way to do it that’s served me fairly well through my 30s.)

The age thing's a little relevant too. I'm approaching my mid 30's and I just feel adrift, and lost. Nothing in my life's really worked out, I made bad decisions, I missed opportunities, I lost potential. I don't want to live another 40 or so years like this and then die a nobody. I know the "gifted kid" thing is a meme now but everyone thought I had so much potential, including me. And that just makes me feel even worse than if I'd been a loser from the start.

It gets... better? Sort of?

Take everything you have heard about "your potential" and throw it in the trash.

"Potential" is a myth we tell to small children to encourage them to study and work on projects. "Potential" is a way of giving kids a direction and a reason to focus on their interests. Small children have no context for understanding what they could be doing a year, five years, twenty years from now - they just know what they can do right now, and that it doesn't include "build a whole car" or "paint beautiful sunsets" or "write a book" or "be Mayor of Can Town" or "overthrow the Dark Lord and put his minions in wizard-prison" or whatever.

So we tell them: You have potential, which means, You share some personality traits and innate talents with people who have done these things. It gives kids something to aim for. "You have a lot of potential" means "you share a lot of traits with people who are famous for doing these things."

At no point does anyone tell you how many not-famous not-rich just-muddling-by people also have those traits. At no point does anyone say, "You have a terrific singing voice and perfect pitch so you could be a famous musician OR... you could be like Mrs Thomson who plays piano and leads the church choir in a tiny church with 37 weekly attendees and gets paid a $40/week stipend for it, and she also works 5 days a week in the chicken-packing plant."

By the time you are an adult, that is no longer meaningful. You know how to assess your skills, and what kinds of skills you might like to develop, and which of them you'd be good at. (And by "good at," I mean, "good enough to enjoy practicing them and get results that make you happy." I assure you that I am a mediocre cook at best, but I have the level of cooking skills I want, and I know I could develop more if I cared to.)

It's also easy to get intimidated by the people around you, who've developed expertise in areas you have not, especially in areas that you'd like to have more skill.

I promise you that you have expertise in areas other people want. (Because. Here you are, in your 30s, talking to strangers on the internet, and trying to figure out what to do next with your life. THOSE ARE SKILLS. Really. Even the "try to figure out" part; there are people who feel absolutely stuck in life and have no idea why, don't even know how to realize they want something to be different. And I'm betting you have other skills that aren't apparent in an anonymous ask.)

Ignore your "potential" and focus on what do you want to do?

Maybe throw a few thoughts towards "what kind of world do I want to live in, and what would I do if I were living in that world?" but don't put a lot of energy into fantasies about "if we had clean energy and robust anti-capitalist legislation and UBI and..." (I mean. Spend all the time you want on those. But those aren't part of sorting out "what do I do with my life now?") So: if you want to live in a world where neighbors welcome each other to the community with a casserole, then go talk to your neighbors, even if you feel awkward about it. If you want to live in a world with active, thriving libraries, go borrow some books from your local library. If you want to live in a world where you own your digital purchases, learn how to strip the DRM from ebooks. And so on.

If you're running into self-worth issues, consider who the Republican party is running for office, and remind yourself that you are not worse than them, and if they "deserve" money and power and fame, you at least deserve to be comfortable. (Whether they "deserve" what they have or not, they have it, so you might as well decide you deserve some friends and some entertainments and a job you don't hate.)

If you're running into "but all that seems like a lot of effort and I don't know if I have the energy" - pick something smaller as a first goal. Don't write the novel; write one scene that's stuck in your head, one bit of dialogue that makes you want to tell the story around it. Put it in a private file just for you. Start a collection of story fragments.

tl;dr umm...

We're all just muddling along. Really. We're stuck in a capitalist hellscape together. Find something you care about and let yourself be obsessed with it. Give yourself permission to be bad at it. Give yourself permission to just do the 5% you enjoy.

Don't count your achievements by starting with a list of things you haven't done.

[precure1ove]

HELLO & HAPPY DECEMBER!! this is my first time requesting but may i request a fluffy scenario with the octo trio being surprise smooched under the mistletoe by their s/o? ty !!

come and kiss me pretty baby

summary : The classic mistletoe kiss with Octavinelle boys, how does it happen and how will they react?

characters : octavinelle

warnings : kissing(duh), teasing, joy and fluff ,leech twins, biting is mentioned in floyds

a/n : aaaa im so happy im you're first request ur gonna get a big kiss or hug anon!! these were so fun to write and think of scenarios of, i tried to make them each unique in their own way so im sorry if they turn out ooc or just badly written,,,.

Azul Ashengrotto

Christmas was supposed to be a joyous occasion, especially for those young and in love. Azul however felt nothing but utter failure, he wishes he put an octo-pot on his wishlist. 

You see, Azul had the plan of sweeping you off your feet and giving you a perfectly planned kiss from the many mistletoes he had conveniently placed around the lounge. He knew some may not work that's why he bought a few, but you had ignored every. Single. One. Of. Them. 

First was when the annual christmas party started, he had very strategically led you over to the counter to make you an Azul made original mocktail, and right above it was a mistletoe in the spot you always sit at whenever he's making you a drink. But for whatever reason you sat in a completely different chair, he saw Jade chuckling at him when passing by as you sipped your drink and Azul made sure to give him the meanest glare possible.

The second time was in a specific corner that he planned to walk over with you and act surprised at the mistletoe that's so randomly there. However with whatever entity watching above that seemed to enjoy teasing him, you walked over to the spot where the plant was no longer in range to be considered smoochable. Azul stopped and gaped at you for a couple of seconds at that before slipping back into his persona, silently cursing at himself.

The third time had actually worked, just not in his interest. A mistletoe could be seen nearby the seating area, and he had thought to go over there with you for some food as a break from all the partying. But it just so happened that Floyd was sitting on that exact table, and joked about how the two of you must kiss, staring right at Azul as he said this. 

And you gave him a kiss on the cheek.

This is why Azul is currently outside the lounge, using the pathetic excuse of needing fresh air to go and thinking of how he's going to punish Floyd for one upping him, with his own partner as well!?

Sliding back against the wall, he sits and sighs in defeat. Now he’ll never get the ‘special feeling’ of getting kissed under a mistletoe and instead be another loser on christmas. A slow creak knocked him out of his thoughts and he looked up to find your face staring back at him, arms behind your back.

“You okay? You seemed less into the Christmas spirit ever since the party started.” You speak, a small worried smile on your features as you slide down to sit next to him. He mumbled some words along the lines of ‘doing just fine’ in the fabric of his suit, a faint pink overtaking his cheeks at the thought of telling you he’s upset about not receiving a kiss.

“Well I know just the thing to cheer you up, can you look at me?” 

There was a teasing tone to your voice, he was almost tempted to not face you after all the stunts you pulled but since you didn't do it intentionally he turns to look, only to be met with a painstakingly familiar green and white plant and an even more familiar pair of lips on his.

Huh, maybe he got his Christmas wish after all.

Floyd Leech

Ever since floyd had been introduced to the concept of ‘mistletoe’ you learnt it had lost the special feeling it once gave you. Especially when it happens at least 20 times a week during the Christmas season.

You love Floyd really, however having a plant shoved into your face and then being kissed more than once every interaction has made your lips bruised and checking your back 24/7 incase he jumps at you, mistletoe in his hand. You can't even hang out with him like you normally do, it's less hanging out and more making out like no tomorrow!

There's nothing wrong with it necessarily, Floyd kissing you is more than welcomed, until it's to the point that's all you do, with no breaks to even breathe! 

Gently massaging your lips from a most recent mistletoe ambush-a cut is already healing from a few bites during the session- you think to yourself of a way to atleast make Floyd stop or lessen the kissing.

Since this is his first time learning about mistletoe perhaps you can try to encourage him to follow a few made up rules about it.

A surge of confidence enveloped you at the idea, to get Floyd to be even remotely interested in following rules there has to be something he can gain from it. A plan begins brewing in your mind, wandering off to your next lesson with a goal in mind.

When the bell rings, instead of rushing away and attempting to hide from Floyd, you walk about through the halls decorated with tinsel and baubles looking for a familiar face within the crowd of students. Because of your very unsuccessful attempt of searching for Floyd, you end up sitting on a bench outside waiting for him to find you as he always does.

 Resting your eyes for a few seconds, a very familiar fake plastic plant smell is placed in front of you, and with opening them the object of your nightmares and its wielder is staring down at you with a smile sharp full of affection.

This time, however, you're prepared. Before Floyd even gets the chance to deliver you a big smooch you place a hand against his puckered lips, blocking him.

“Shrimpppyyy, what’r you doin..lemme kith you.” Floyd grumbled, his words half muffled by your hand.

“No can do Floyd, i'm not kissing you with a mistletoe anymore you broke the rules.” You state firmly, or tried to, it's hard to be strict when he looks so ridiculous with his face, now, in your hands.

“Whaddya mean rules? Kissing has no rules..” He grumbles, hand drawing random shapes on your leg as he listens intently, this is the first time in ages you had a proper conversation since it's mostly been kissing. “Mistletoe kissing does though! So if you want to kiss me during christmas you have to follow them or no more kisses!” 

Floyd’s face drops at this, no more kissing his Shrimpy that's his second favourite thing-his first being his Shrimpy of course-a frown makes place on his face, weighing the option in his head ... .kiss Shrimpy or not kiss Shrimpy..

His classic charming toothy grin is back on his features, placing the mistletoe on the bench beside you. Leaning more into your hands, “So.. tell me the rules Shrimpy, i'll listen like one of those Savanaclaw pups!”

“First it has to be a real one not that plastic one you bring everywhere, second you can’t wait under one for me we have to be under one at the same time… and third you cannot carry your own everywhere and we have to kiss only once if there's only one mistletoe!!” You should honestly receive an award at this point for how you can think of these and putting up with Floyd simultaneously.

Floyd-who seems lost in thought for a moment-now stood up to his full height, patting the top of your head affectionately “Mkay Shrimpy, i'll listen to you if ya say so!”

After telling Floyd the very legitimate rules to mistletoe, you begin to finally look forward to being less cautious about being jumped by a big eel who has a big fascination with kissing you.

And what a day it has been with no extreme make out sessions for a while-a small part of you misses it… thankfully a text notification knocks you out of a dangerous thought.

 ‘Azul needs me at the lounge..probably something to do with Floyd.’

Walking to the sea-themed dorm, you notice your eel boyfriend sitting outside..he must have done something to really stress Azul out for that. Floyd, now noticing you, sits up straight and runs to you for a squeeze, a suspiciously mischievous smirk on his face. 

“Shrimpyy, you gotta talk to Azul for me or he’s banning me from beating up the small fry!” Yeah he’s definitely done something to upset Azul but Floyd-is-up-to-something senses in your mind are going crazy.. just what is he up to, ”Okay Floyd, i'll try but i'm not promising anything!” 

You should really listen to the warning sirens in your head as nothing prepared you for the lounge being completely decked out in mistletoes.

No-one in sight except for you and Floyd, speaking of him you slowly turn to face him. The doors now close as he stalks closer to you. “I listened to Shrimpy's rules and now i get to kiss Shrimpy as much as i want too!”

Next time you think to just let Floyd kiss you on his own terms like usual.

Jade Leech

It's no secret that Jade loves to surprise you, perhaps a bit too but that thought is all but forgotten when he treats you like a proper gentleman. 

As the winter season is here and that means Christmas, Jade was nothing but delighted to learn the concept of mistletoe but you didn't have to know about it and so he conducted a plan to deliver only the best mistletoe kiss for you.

Speaking of the mastermind, you watch him walk around the lounge serving orders and collecting dirty dishes. That's why you're taking your time with yours, and Jade knows this by the amount of times he's walked past your booth eyes locking with yours as to signal something. 

Of course you know what he's trying to do, Jade usually comes over when you’ve finished a drink or meal as a guise to take a break from waitering and talk to you. You think about finishing the cup soon, the potions homework you have to finish is becoming increasingly frustrating and you know Jade would just love to help especially since the lounge is more busy with the christmas season.

The decision was already made to drink the remaining liquid, potions are hard and you can get your boyfriend to help! And so when Jade walked around to check, you saw the relief on his face as he stopped by your booth.

 “I was wondering when you were going to stop being so cruel to deprive me of your presence for so long.” He fakes an imaginary tear, hand placed on his chest as he sits across from you. If you didn't know him so well and not his partner you're sure you would've missed the slight slouch in his shoulders and how his smile was strained more than usual.

“How terribly inconsiderate of me, i didn't know you wanted me this bad,” you smile softly at him, banter between the two of you is easy and you did feel bad as Jade had been working more often due to the winter season.

Jade smiles at your words, drifting his eyes down to the pile of paper and scratched pencil markings on it, he lifts one up to see what you were struggling with.. “...Potions homework. I assume you need my help?” A look of pure exasperation made its way on your face, slumping downward, “It’s much more difficult than what we did before...”

Jade chuckles at this, reaching over to pat your head lightly. This is all working his favour, perfect.

“How about you come over to the bar and I can help you there? That way I can work and assist you at the same time. I would hate to cut our time short, especially when you’re struggling!” You know now you had bagged the right twin, scrambling for all the materials you had spread out on the table to move to the bar area. 

Perhaps you were too blinded by his offer and forgot a big rule when dealing with your boyfriend, he doesn't do anything for free. When you finally sit down, ready to actually get some work done, to only look up and see a familiar hanging plant that's been terrorizing many students. 

Jade's face was already leant towards yours, “Oh my, I wonder who put it here.. Apparently there's tradition that goes with this plant, are you willing to demonstrate?”

likes & reblogs appreciated

masterlist⠀ — ⠀ request here

[alastor-simp]

Mistletoe🌿😘 - Alastor X Female Reader

❥Summary: It's Sinsmas in Hell, which means the hotel is decorated from head to toe in Christmas decor, including the festive tradition of the mistletoe. What happens when you find under it with Alastor?

❥Tags: Mistletoe kiss, Hazbin Hotel, Christmas, Fluffmas, Mistletoe, Holiday Season, Festive, Fluff and Romance, Sinsmas

❥Notes: Its time for some mistletoe kisses with our favorite deer demon. I've always love mistletoe kiss stories so I decided to write one. Enjoy 😊

❥Credit: Divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Standing on top of a ladder, you were gently stringing up the ornaments on the Christmas tree that was standing in the middle of the hotel lobby. You and Charlie were in the Christmas spirit, or Sinsmas spirit, as that's what Christmas was called in hell, and decided to decorate. Charlie, with her powers, was able to string colored lights on the walls and stairs of the hotel, while you decided to do the tree.Humming to yourself, you continued to hang decorations until you heard a tapping noise coming from below. Looking down, you saw the radio demon himself, smiling up at you, hand tapping on the ladder to get your attention. "Enjoying the weather up there, my dear?" Sarcastically laughing at his joke, you continued to hang up decorations, "Do you need something?"

"Ah yes! Our dear Charlie needs you in the kitchen. She seems rather exuberated at the idea of making cookies." Alastor said, his crimson eyes continuing to gaze up at you. "Oh alright," Holding the box with decorations gently, you slowly descended down the ladder, as you were ready to meet Al at the bottom. Reaching the floor, you turned to Al smiling, as he motioned for you to loop your arm with his, as you made your way to the kitchen.Upon entering the kitchen, that was filled with the delicious smell of frosting and baked goods, the both of you stopped catching the snickering coming from Angel, who was sitting on top of the kitchen counter, phone raised up in his hands. "What's so funny?" You said, tilting your head at him. Angel continued to laugh as one of his hands pointed up. Looking up, you noticed the little sprig of mistletoe that was hanging next to the kitchen door, making your eyes widen in shock. Charlie had noticed too, since she was distracted by baking and a smile had risen to her face, heart symbols popping out behind her.

You knew about this tradition, "whoever is under a mistletoe has to kiss each other," and you were under it, with Alastor. Nope! NOPE! No way was Alastor going to do this, knowing how touch-averse he was. Yes, you had a crush on him, but you respected his boundaries, and you didn't want this to be overstepping them. Alastor eyed the little branch on top and gave a small head-tilt, confused at what was such a big deal about the item hanging above their heads. "What is a little weed doing up there?" Angel continued to laugh, while recording while Charlie realized that Al didn't know about the mistletoe. "Oh that's a common tradition that is done in the human world Al! The two people who stand under a mistletoe have to share a kiss!" Jumping with enthusiasm, Charlie pointed to the both of you, really wanting to see the two of you kiss. Al remained still once he heard Charlies explanation, his smile still on his face as always, but his body was tensed. His glowing red eyes locked on to you, staring into your soul, who honestly didn't know if he was happy or upset with what he was told.

His sharp gaze then locked on to the mistletoe and with a snap, the little plant had caught on fire, green flames burning it into blacken crisp. "While I am one to follow and uphold certain traditions, that is one that I will not partake in." He said, lips growing into an evil smirk, until he disappeared, body disappearing in the shadows, leaving behind the three of you with widen eyes and a small burnt mistletoe, that had fallen to the ground from where it was hanging. Okay that hurt a bit. You had a feeling Al would say no, but it still hurt coming from him directly. "What a dick!" Angel raged out, using his hands to flip off where Alastor once stood. Charlie, noticing your demeanor, approached you slowly, offering you a kind smile, "Umm want to continue making cookies with me?" She said, trying to help as she could tell you were sad by Al's reaction, but she felt like she was responsible as well, since she didn't think into consideration how Al would respond, but she had no idea Alastor would react like that. Shaking your head to rid of the negative emotions, lips drawing into a forced smile, you moved towards where Charlie was, hoping that this would distract you from what had happened.

**A Few Hours Later**

Spending quality time with the others, drinking hot chocolate and watching silly Christmas movies did make you feel better, but the lack of Al's presence kept reminding you about what happened. "He must still be angry." You thought, as your feet carried you back to your room, having grown very tired from all the activities you did with the others. Having arrived at your door, your hand slowly grabbed the door knob, opening it as you walked in, only to walk head first into someone. "AHH!" Screaming, you grasped your chest, back hitting the now closed door, as you looked at the intruder in your room. The intruder was the red deer man himself, hands placed behind his back, smiling down at you. "Ah! There you are, my dear! I was wondering when you would arrive." He bent down, face moving closer to you, smile breaking his face, since he so enjoyed scaring you. Still holding your hand against your chest, your eyes glared up at Al, wondering why he was in your room. "If I remember correctly, this is my bedroom, so why are you waiting for me inside my room?"

Chuckling, Alastor had leaned back up, but he remained close to you. "There was something I needed to complete and I require the assistance of another to do it, and who better to offer their assistance than you, my dear." Listening to him, you had managed to calm down from the previous scare. He wanted your help with something, well as long as it doesn't involve a soul contract or killing, you could help. "Oh! Alright then, what do you need help with?" You asked, tilting your head at him. His radio-static laugh resonated through the whole room, as his sharp gloved hands pointed above you, making your eyes draw up to the ceiling.

Above you, was a dark creature resembling Alastor, grin stretched across its face, dangling a little mistletoe above you. Widening your eyes, you looked back at Al in shock, "Wha- What?!" You stuttered out, brain still trying to process what was happening. Alastor noticed your reaction, laughing again, before he walked closer, his chest becoming extremely close to you, as you gazed up at him, gulping at the situation you were in. "I believe there was a tradition we needed to uphold when we are under this small leaf." He said, voice dropping the radio effects, sending shivers all over you. "But I thought you didn't want to do it? You burned the one in the kitchen." Your words were failing you, as you were too distracted by how close Al was, heart beating out of your chest. A gloved hand softly held your chin, tipping it up, making your breath hitched in your throat.

His eyes were tender, drastically different from his usual enigma ways, "It was merely a show of theatrics, my dear. I have a reputation to uphold, being the radio demon. I much rather partake in acts like this in private, away from the other little misfits, particularly the feminine spider. This side of me is only for your eyes to see." Fingers traced your bottom lip, as another hand was placed on your lower back, pulling you closer to him. "Well? Do you wish to continue?" He asked, voice dropping into a whisper. You pleaded in your head that this wasn't a dream, that this was really happening. The little nod you gave Alastor, made a soft smile appear on his face, as he slowly inched closer to you, lips planting against yours. It started with a small peck, nothing overly extreme, but the both of you refused to pull away, as you wrapped your arms around Al, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. Alastor stilled for a second, but his body soon relaxed, yet his tail remained wagging behind him.

The breathtaking kiss soon came to a stop, as Al slowly pulled away from you, his ashen face sporting a pinkish color, making you giggle. Alastor heard your giggle, and gave one of his own as well, static returning to his voice. The shadow version of Alastor had come down from the ceiling, appearing next to you, glowing red eyes in the shape of hearts, as it hanged the mistletoe above you and placed a shadowy kiss against your cheek, before disappearing. Alastor's arms soon engulfed you, holding you against his chest, his chin resting on top of your head. "Merry Sinsmas, Y/N" He hummed, nuzzling your head. Moving your hands slowly, you placed them against his back, returning the hug. "Merry Sinsmas, Al."

-END-

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[dilemmaontwolegs]

helloooo, could you write a fic where the OC is also a f1 driver and they're Lando's rival, buutt one race weekend she goes into his driver's room to argue with him but they do more because they're both frustrated? like pure smut

The Fine Line || LN4

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!driver!reader Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, angst, smut WC: 1.6k F1 Masterlist

No one tried to stop you as you stormed through the McLaren garage, ascending the stairs two at a time just to reach the driver's room quicker. Your heel planted on the door and it flew open with a bang and left a handle sized hole in the plaster where it struck.

"I get that you don't like me but you don't have to drive me into the fucking wall, Norris."

Lando had barely returned to the room after crashing out of the race with the collision but you were too angry to see the state of his undress, his fireproof shirt carelessly strewn across the floor.

“You really think too highly of yourself,” he scoffed, pulling the door out from the wall and slamming it closed. 

“So you didn’t cut into my line and take me out?” you dared, the video footage proof that it was exactly what he had done.

“I can’t stand you, why would I want to go anywhere near you and your precious racing line?” he growled as each step brought him closer until he was dominating your personal space.

Your lips pulled up into a taunting smirk and you tilted your head back to meet his eyes. “You are awfully close, for a man that doesn’t want to be near me.”

His eyes traced the curve of your lips before he dragged them back to your eyes and he dipped his head to whisper in your ear.  “You came here first.”

Your mouth was dry as you swallowed and the room suddenly felt too hot. “Because you put me into a fucking wall, Norris.”

“This is putting you into a wall,” he said as he pushed you back. 

You waited for the impact but his arm snaked around your back and his palm cradled your head before the contact came. His entire body was pressed the length of yours and a needy whine escaped your lips as the race high and adrenaline left your body screaming for an outlet. 

“You like that? Hmm?” he smirked but you returned it as you rolled your hips and felt his erection proudly digging into your stomach.

“Don’t take it personally, Norris, it’s not you, you just have the right…bits.” 

“I don’t believe you.” He fingers toyed with the zip and your collar, waiting to see if you would slap them away in this strange game of chicken. The only sounds were the quickening of your breath and the tear of Velcro before he drew the zip down your body and saw your skin-tight fireproof shirt beneath. 

You dragged your nails down his back and smirked as he groaned at the heat that flared from the five angry red lines. Nipping at his jaw, he bucked his hips before you pushed him away. “And I don’t care.”

“Bullshit,” he chuckled when he recovered and combed a hand through his messy hair. “Just admit it, you want me.”

“I want you, Lando,” you admitted as you opened the door. “I want you…to stay the fuck off my race line.”

Two Months Later You had the cash ready in hand when the knock at your door came, but it wasn’t who you expected on the other side. 

“Blocking me?” Lando huffed as he pushed his way inside your suite. “That’s fucking low.”

You rolled your eyes at the scathing attitude. “You think I wanted a penalty? I wasn’t even impeding you, there was plenty of room if you used your eyes to look for something other than the paddock bunnies.”

You started to close the door when the food you had ordered arrived, the poor man looking unsettled as his eyes danced between you and Lando. “Are you alright, ma’am? Would you like me to call security?”

The hostility was palpable and you chuckled as you took the bag, handing the money over with a sizable tip. “I can handle him, thanks.”

He clearly wasn’t all that satisfied but nodded and left, wishing you a good evening before you closed the door. The entire hotel didn’t need to hear you and Lando’s war of words. 

“You can’t even handle qualifying,” he scoffed, peeking over your shoulder into the bag. “Is that katsu?”

“Yes, and no, you are not getting any.” You wanted to eat it while it was hot but you couldn’t ignore the papaya elephant in the room. “Did you come here for anything else?”

“Like what?”

“How would I know? I don’t know what goes on in that little head of yours. But I picture it’s something like that monkey banging cymbals together on repeat.”

“You were right with the banging,” he muttered as he helped himself to your mini bar. “Wrong with the animal.”

“Gross.” Effectively put off your food, you pushed the dish away and decided a drink was better. Lando was leaning against the countertop, his legs wide manspreading and his arms crossed, trying to look dominant. He watched you bend down to grab a miniature bottle of champagne from the fridge, not bothering with a glass as you popped the cork. 

“Want a sip?” you offered. “It’s the closest you’ll get to tasting victory.”

“God I hate you,” he growled as he pushed your hand away. 

You chuckled and took a sip of the sweet bubbles. “There’s a fine line between love and hate. I think you’re just confused.”

“Okay, I love to hate you.” 

You stepped between his legs and placed your bottle next to his on the bench. He watched with half hooded eyes as you reached for his belt and made no effort to stop you from unbuckling it. “Is that why you always find a reason to come to my room?”

“Don’t act like you don’t get off on it too.” His arms uncrossed and his hands drifted over your hips before disappearing into the back pockets of your jeans where he squeezed your ass. His breath teased the shell of your ear as a hand snaked up your neck until he cradled your cheek, his thumb brushing beneath your eye as he whispered, “I remember seeing tears last time, you came so hard.”

“Those were tears of disappointment, that you couldn’t last longer,” you lied. The bastard was right, no one could make you angry like he could but it made for some explosive sex. 

“I can go all night, baby,” Lando chuckled darkly before his hand dropped to the base of your throat and he crushed his lips to yours. His fingers tightened slightly, warning you of his strength as he pulled back and bit his bottom lip in contemplation. “Guess I’ll just have to remind you again.” 

The colours of your clothes clashed as they were abandoned to the floor, his McLaren papaya and your Alpine pink proving just how badly the two together were. But it didn’t stop you from taking him to your bed, from your bodies colliding with desperate need, from crying out his name in ecstasy. 

His body bore the marks of your nails, and yours held the marks of his mouth, where he had nipped and sucked his way across your collar. There was no care given between you in the primal need to chase a high, an outlet for the fire that burned inside of you, except for where you marked each other.

“There they are,” Lando chuckled proudly as his fingers left bruises on your hips, pulling you back to meet his hips with every long hard thrust. His pace was relentless, your thighs shaking as you lost all sense of self and screwed your eyes shut as you felt them begin to sting. 

Your throat was hoarse and your lips swollen from the dominating kisses that stole the louder cries from them. His skin was slick with sweat and his breath came in quick pants as his forehead crumpled in restraint, his teeth clenched together. 

“Go on, baby, open your eyes for me,” he taunted as a tear escaped the corner, disappearing into your hair as you shook your head. “No?”

He didn’t like to be denied and his palm slapped down on your clit, eliciting a sharp whimper as it only intensified the heat in your core. Your back arched and your lips curled into a smirk before parting with a drawn out moan as he snapped his hips even faster, the room filling with the sound of his skin slapping yours. 

“Open. Your. Eyes,” he growled, pinching your nipple sharply.

“Ah,” you cried out as your eyes flew open and to meet his. The heat exploded as you came again, the waves of the orgasm rocking your entire body and his jaw fell slack at the feel of your walls clenching tight around him.

“Fuck,” he grunted as he succumbed to his own release. He pulled out and spilled himself over your stomach, fisting his cock and squeezing out every last milky drop before sitting back on his heels panting. His face was smug as he memorised the sight before him, your eyes half closed, your lips parted, the hickeys he left on your collar, the mess he left on your belly, your clit swollen and oversensitized, your cunt dripping with your arousal. “Fuck.”

He climbed off the bed, stumbling a bit with lightheadedness before catching himself and grabbing his clothes. You rolled over like a lazy cat and watched him dress just as quickly as he had undressed before leaving without a goodbye. You would have remained silent too with his exit except you heard the telltale crinkle of a paper bag and everything you felt before came crashing back.

“Get your own fucking food, Norris!”