#every time i get an update from your blog i CHEER | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bunny-lily · 9 months ago

Text

Lift a Pen and Rewrite the Ending

Fluff for our broken fluffed-out hearts Dedicated to @bunny584 because ow. I promised fluff, so I’m delivering fluff

Pairing: Satoru x piano teacher!fem!reader

CW: just some fluff, man. We all need some happy, sappy moments in our lives with our beloved dumbass boy.

You taught piano. Plain, simple, easy. At least, you thought so, before meeting an enigmatic man as your newest student. He played a little too well for a beginner, and seemed a little too familiar.

AN: I chose to post this on my side acc since this one was technically made for the exact purpose of writing JJK fics (same with the Ao3 acc (milk_bunny/chimeric-dreams for that one)). So, cheers to the first fic on this blog!

This was honestly scribbled down in a single sitting between 1-5 am. Please don’t judge any mistakes too harshly, I wanted to post it ASAP and not subject it to my endless course of corrections and re-writing.

This is also very short (lmao 6.7k words) for how my work is normally. Again, I just wanted to get it out as fast as I could ;w;

smol update: this has been (minorly) edited! nothing big, I mostly just went in and fixed up a couple mistakes + summoned my dearly beloved thesaurus. Otherwise, it's basically 98% the same as before!

Music sheets laid scattered around you, annotated in messy scribbles in various colors, fonts, and sizes. A scratched out row of bars here, corrected or adjusted notes there, mindless rambles stuffed into the margins as you tried desperately to figure out which key to put your song into so that it matched the exact tone you were going for.

Not like you were some well renowned artist whose career rode on their sole ability to create magical orchestrations. No, you had barely any presence at all. The videos of your songs you posted on YouTube hardly scratched a couple hundred viewers at most, with the occasional comment from a bot or scammer getting your hopes up, only for them to go crashing back down.

You weren’t some notable figure in the music industry, you were just a white-collar worker that taught piano from your tiny home part-time.

It suited you, you supposed, as bitter as you could feel at times. You were just a normie, a casual passerby who liked having your fingers spring and jump across the keys of your instrument. It was one you inherited from your grandmother. She was the one that taught you how to play when you were little, while your parents were busy working and couldn’t sit and entertain you all day like she could.

She taught you some essentials, too, like how to tune the spinet – ‘It’ll save you big bucks, bunny,’ she insisted – and how to detect even the slightest issue it might have. She was correct about it saving you big bucks.

As shabby as the thing looked, with peeling white paint and floral designs chipping off the sides, the cover scraped to hell and back, and the brassy pedals having long lost their glossy sheen, it was in perfect shape.

In your expert opinion, anyway. You were biased, so what? You had every right to be.

Granny had left the world a while ago, her ashes situated on the short mantel of your tiny fireplace. You lit the candles every day, rested two softly smoking incense sticks on the shallow bowl to catch their cinders, and gave her a swift good-morning before you raced out your door, inevitably arriving at work with only minutes to spare.

In the evenings, you’d teach, then ramble to her about your day, wish her a loving goodnight, and go pass the fuck out. Rinse and repeat, except weekends, where you were teaching all day.

It was tiring, working two jobs like this, especially when some of the kids you taught were insufferable, but music was your passion. At the end of the day, you viewed it as worth every minute spent doing something you loved.

You liked to think she would have been proud of you.

A light tapping sound, a knuckle rapping against the wood of your open front door, caught your attention. It was a warm day, one that was too good to spend with the doors and windows closed. Natural light flooded in, casting the figure standing at the entrance in a brilliant glow that hid their features from you.

You glanced at the clock on the wall to your left, then leapt up from the floor in front of your coffee table, hurriedly and messily stuffing your music sheets into a folder. “Oh, shoot, sorry! I didn’t see the time, I’m so sorry about that. Are you the two o’clock?”

Today was a surprisingly free day for you. You only had one appointment, with a new student, if you remembered correctly. You must have gotten so ingrained in your rapid-fire notations that you lost track of time.

While you weren’t expecting an adult, since the email sounded like it was from a teenager, it wasn’t uncommon. You had students of all varying ages, anyways. It was a nice change, too; you found that adults tended to listen better than children.

A smooth laugh greeted your ears, the sound impossibly pleasant to your ears. “It’s fine,” the man said as he stepped into your home, breaking from the prison of light holding him. His stark-white hair caught you off guard first, followed by his height, and then the round shades resting low on the bridge of his nose. “That’s me.”

Eyes as blue as the most vivid summer sky peered straight through yours and into your soul, his hues almost appearing to shine in the tranquil environment of your living room, without the help of the overhead lamp you had turned off. His lips curled into a sparkling grin, giving him this sort of youthful luminance that had your heart skipping beats.

You swallowed and looked away before his gleaming smile blinded you, striding over to your upright eighty-eight, using it as an excuse to busy yourself and avoid eye contact with him before he made you stop breathing just by fluttering his lashes.

“Come on in,” you responded stiffly, clearing your throat to ease off the tenseness in your muscles. Why were you getting so worked up over him? Sure, he was pretty, but you’d barely spoken two sentences to him. How had he managed to get you in such a tizzy so easily, where your tongue felt tied and your pulse raced in your wrists? “How much do you know about piano?”

“Uhh,” he set down his briefcase against the wall beside your door, slipped off his shoes, and met you next to the instrument. “I know a bit.”

“Alright,” you nodded and patted the bench, then paused to think if it would be too low for him. What intensely long legs. “Do you need me to get a different stool?”

He shook his head, sliding into the seat like it was second nature to him. “Nope, this is just fine.”

“Great,” you smiled at him and tucked your skirt under your hands as you sat down on the other end. “Let’s get started, then! Are you familiar with the different notes?”

His hands took place over the ivories and he slowly pressed each one down as he labeled them. “C, D, E, F, G, A, B, C.”

“Excellent, that’s awesome! You’re already a few steps ahead of other beginners,” you nodded approvingly and retrieved the thin booklet you had laid on top of the upper panel. You opened it and sifted through a few of the jingle options, picking out something a bit more intermediate for him.

It was still simple, but definitely more advanced than nursery rhymes. You found teens and adults had a more enjoyable time learning when they didn’t feel like they were being patronized. Teens especially, fickle little creatures, those ones.

“Let’s start with this one, then,” you said as you set it against the music rack in front of him. “It’s pretty easy, I think you’ll pick it up quickly.”

The piece consisted of quarter-note half steps that ignored the sharp and flat keys for now. You had placed a piece of tape over the tempo indicator, finding that it put your students under too much pressure and made them stumble in their rush to follow the pacing they thought was right when they didn’t know what tempo was to begin with.

The man took a few seconds to study the sheet, then placed his fingers on the corresponding keys and began playing.

He was a bit slow, holding some notes too long and others not long enough, but you were correct in thinking he’d get the hang of it fast. After a few runs, he was playing it decently well, and confidently, too.

“Perfect! I knew you’d get it like that,” you snapped your fingers, then picked up the booklet again, flipping the pages in search of something a little more challenging. You probably wouldn’t find it in a kiddie book like this one, so you placed it down and got up, grabbing a more advanced one from the side table nearby. “What got you wanting to learn how to play?”

“Ah,” he scratched the back of his head. “My dad always wanted me to learn as a kid. I finally caved in, if only to make him stop yapping in my ear during family dinners. I’m just twenty years late to the party.”

You burst into giggles as you returned to your place on the bench, placing the new song you had chosen out for him where the previous one had been. “Not the first time I’ve heard that. You’d be surprised how many later bloomers there are.”

He chuckled along with you. “Well, that’s a relief. Had me fearing I was the only fully grown student you’d see in your life.”

“Far from it,” you shook your head. “I teach a grandfather that wants to play for his grandson at his graduation next year. It’s never too late to learn.”

When you looked up at him, you found him already peering at you with those intensely cerulean irises, his sunglasses folded neatly into the collar of his shirt. You twitched, startled by his stare. He had you locked in his gaze, captivated as he observed you and you observed him.

You noticed with wonder and fascination that his lashes were as milky white as the tresses on his head.

He really was beautiful. Those same lashes were long and soft, brushing his high cheeks whenever he blinked. His lips were plush and pink, seemingly always curled up into a permanent smile regardless of size. Life and boyish playfulness darted in those mesmerizing oases that refused to shake their hold on you, and you wouldn’t wish them to.

They were the breath of fresh air you never knew you were deprived of, the nectar of life that was water to your parched throat, the flickering mirage that came to life before your very being.

You felt drawn to him, inexplicably. There was something so… familiar about him, though you couldn’t pinpoint exactly what. Like you’d seen him before, across the metro platform, or walking into the store you were just leaving, or someone walking the opposite direction as you on the crosswalk.

Where have I seen you before?

You blinked yourself out of the illusion, your lips parting, closing, then parting again before you finally managed to find your voice. “I-I’m sorry. I forgot your name, could…could you remind me?”

“Ah,” he shook his head, forgiving your forgetfulness. “Just call me Satoru.”

Just Satoru? Is that really okay?

It doesn’t sound like a name I’ve heard before.

“Alright,” you agreed regardless. “Satoru it is. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you murmured your own name in return, dipping your head down in a mini bow. You returned your attention to the music sheet, lightly tapping the back of his hand with your pointer finger. “Let’s continue, shall we?”

You noted how much bigger his hands were compared to yours. It was hard not to see it, your index finger would likely barely reach the topmost joint of his if you pressed your palms together.

Your hands tingled at the thought. You quickly shoved it aside, focusing on being a good instructor.

Satoru continued to surprise and impress you as he mastered the tunes you chose for him after trying them out a few times. Each time he made a mistake, he listened attentively as you corrected it, laying your hands over his as you adjusted the positioning of his fingers.

“Your hands are so much bigger than mine,” you snickered. “I’m a bit jealous. It’s hard for me to reach those far keys sometimes.”

“Oh, yeah,” he grinned cockily, flashing you a sultry glance between chords. “They can reach a lot of things very easily.”

Heat rose to your cheeks and you stuttered, whipping your head away and acting as if he hadn’t completely flustered you.

Truthfully, the session was only supposed to last an hour and a half, but when you looked up at the clock, you were shocked to see you were nearing an hour longer than expected. It didn’t feel like much time had passed at all, maybe thirty minutes at maximum. Had it really been that long?

You pushed yourself up, stretching your legs as you felt pins and needles spark up in them. “Seems I got distracted twice today. I’ve kept you for an hour longer than I intended, I’m sorry,” you laughed meekly. “Don’t worry, I won’t charge extra for that, that’s on me.”

“It’s no worry,” Satoru reassured you as he got to his feet as well, delicately closing the fallboard with a careful hand. “Are you sure, though? I don’t mind paying for it, I did take up your time.”

He made something warm form in your chest.

“It’s fine, I love teaching. It’s not my main job, anyway, don’t stress,” you brushed away his concern. “You’re a prodigy, y’know,” you told him as you walked him to the still open door. “It’s no wonder your dad wanted you to learn how to play. I’m sure he’s proud.”

He let out a chuckle that sounded maybe a little forced. “Yeah, hope so,” he responded as he eased his shoes back on and bent down to grab his briefcase. “You’re a great teacher.”

“Thank you,” you brushed your hair behind your ear, blushing. “Ah– when would you want to see me again? I-If you do, I mean.”

The odd firmness he had a moment ago melted away, once more replaced by that handsome smirk of his. “Same time next week? Ah, hang on, why don’t I get your number, just in case? I have a bit of an unpredictable schedule.”

“Oh, sure, no problem,” you assented, taking his phone after he unlocked it and passed it to you. “You don’t like using email?”

He shook his head, watching you punch in your number into a new contact, add your name, then hand it back. “Nah, texting is easier for me. I’ll message you later tonight, yeah?”

“Alright,” you acquiesced.

“Oh, right, how much do I owe you?”

You blinked a few times before recalling that it was technically a paid session, though it didn’t feel like that to you. You murmured out the cost, and he gave you an odd look for a brief second. He pulled out his wallet, counted out a few bills, and folded them in half neatly before passing them off to you.

“Thanks for the lesson,” he grinned and waved goodbye, promising to text you later as he headed down your walkway, turned the corner, and vanished from sight.

You closed the door with a quiet poompf, staring blankly at your piano as you tried to remember how to function again. You glanced down at the bundle of money in your hand when you thought it felt a little too thick, brow furrowing as you unfolded it and counted and holy shit that’s way too fucking much–

You rushed out of your house, down the pathway to the sidewalk, and looked for him, though you knew it was futile. He was already gone.

You tried to think of how you were going to slip the excess money back into his pocket next time you saw him, but as soon as you were inside, you raced to the folder you left on your coffee table, practically ripping it apart as you pulled out all the papers, aggressively uncapped a pen, and got to writing at light speed.

That man, whoever he was, infected you with a painful shot of inspiration that you needed to get off your chest right then and there. Your hand flew across the pages, revising entire sections you had been stuck on for weeks in the blink of an eye. Messy verses were refined, the missing notes floated into place, and by the time the moon had risen high and the timid breeze had turned cold, you had finished your song.

You looked it over one last time, a disbelieving giggle escaping you. You finished it. You finished it. This damned piece had been giving you restless nights, a broken loop in your brain that kept skipping over the unwritten parts, but one session with Satoru had seemingly given you the one push you were missing all along.

Your phone buzzed.

You opened it and tapped on the messages icon to find a text from an unknown number.

Unknown, 9:17 PM Hey! Sorry for texting so late. It’s Satoru. Does next week still work for you, same time?

What divine timing on his end. Right as he entered your thoughts, he slid into your DMs.

Your fingers practically trembled with giddy excitement as you texted back instantly to confirm the time, uncaring of what kind of impression that was making on him. You were elated, feeling like you could exhale in peace at last. You gave a little victory cheer as you went about closing and locking all the windows and doors, pulling the curtains shut with so much energy, you questioned if you’d be able to sleep.

The answer was yes. After you had gotten all ready, having pampered yourself as a small reward for yourself, you fell onto your bed and passed out mere minutes later. For once, everything seemed to be going right.

─────•(-•ʚɞ•-)•─────

“How’d you learn how to play?” He asked one day as he sipped at the tea you prepared for him. He was right about his schedule being hectic at times, but he somehow managed to fit himself into having lessons with you a few times a week, rather than just the standard one.

It surprised you, but pleasantly so. He was eager to learn and improve, and you were more than happy to teach him. He made for fantastic company, too, and you found you enjoyed spending time chatting lazily with him just as much as you did instructing him.

“My grandma taught me,” you told him with a smile. “She passed away a while ago, but I like to think I’m keeping her legacy alive like this, by teaching others, and keeping that old lil’ thing alive.”

Satoru nodded in understanding. “You’re amazing at playing,” he complimented sweetly. “She did a great job.”

“Thank you,” you answered bashfully, hiding your blush behind your own mug of tea.

“What was she like, if you don’t mind me asking?”

His smile felt like the sun kissing the apples of your cheeks on a perfect spring day. Him wanting to know more about you had your heartbeat picking up in speed, chirping a new, happy melody like a canary.

You deliberated before replying. “She was a very shrewd woman, stern in her teaching, but very gentle at the same time. She was the kind of granny that snuck me pieces of candy when my parents weren’t looking. She let me stay up late playing music whenever I was staying at her place. I probably bugged my parents to let me stay there every weekend, just so I could play it and learn from her.”

“So you got into music young?”

You bobbed your head. “I fell in love the first time I heard her playing when I was a toddler. I had woken up from a nap one day, somehow escaped my crib, and crawled to the living room to watch her play for…man, I don’t even know how long. I was just…hypnotized.”

“She sounds like she was a maestro,” he snickered airily, though you knew he meant it.

You grinned widely, resting your chin on the curved cup of your palm. “She really was. I can show you some videos of her playing sometime, if you’d like to see,” you offered.

“I’d love to.”

─────•(-•ʚɞ•-)•─────

Satoru had been your student for a while now.

He zoomed through the intermediate pieces into the advanced-amateur category easily, though seemed to plateau around there. Despite this, he was a wonderful student, always trying to improve himself and his skill. You knew he had it in him, he was only missing a little something he needed to tip him to the next level.

At one point, you had joked that he must have been purposefully holding himself back just so he could keep studying under you.

He laughed, and said nothing more.

By now, he reached a point where he would come in with a pep in his step, claiming he had perfected a lullaby he wanted to play for you before you started the session. You’d find yourself (politely) seated on your couch nearby, and would watch with a fond expression you didn’t know was there as he treated your piano with a touch more tender than even your own.

And you’d listen. He’d choose some of the prettiest, albeit not complicated, arrangements to play for you, and you’d find yourself slipping into a state of blissful peace. All your thoughts would drift away, and you’d absorb yourself in the music he played.

A few sessions had been spent just like that, with him as your personal musician, and you couldn’t figure out why you felt so…happy.

You liked the emotion a lot, though, and found yourself looking forward to his every visit, anticipating the full body chills you’d get whenever he lulled you into that state of delighted serenity. You didn’t remember when you stopped charging him, and when you let him come in without knocking anymore.

You also didn’t remember when having tea after each session became tradition, but you were grateful for the joy he brought you with his presence alone.

In fact, you decided to get him a small gift as thanks. For what exactly? His company? Patience? Entertainment? Whatever it was didn’t matter. It wasn’t anything big, either. It was a record you stumbled across while visiting a thrift shop recently.

You picked it up for two reasons. First, he divulged he had a hobby of collecting old vinyls. Second, he mentioned he had been searching for that specific record for a few years with no luck, saying it was the last one he needed to complete his collection from that particular brand. The moment you spotted it, you grabbed it and practically bolted to the cashier, uncaring of the price.

There was no way you were leaving it there for someone else to nab it before he could. It was the most reasonable option.

Which was why you were extra giddy to see him again.

You opened the door in the middle of him reaching for the handle, stunning him for a second. That bewilderment was quickly wiped away by an excited grin that surely matched your own.

“If I knew you’d be this enthusiastic to see me, I would have worn something better,” he quipped.

You snorted and waved your hand, stepping back so he could come in. “Am I not allowed to be happy to see my favorite student? You look good no matter what you’re wearing, anyway.”

“Favorite, eh?” He teased as he closed the door behind him, leaning down to give you a quick hug. “Now I really feel like I should have worn something fancy.”

“Oh, come on, it’s not that big of a deal,” you giggled, leading him to the usual spot.

“I dunno,” he hummed, a sly expression crossing his face. “Pretty big deal to hear that from my favorite teacher,” You rolled your eyes, smacking his chest weakly, to which he laughed openly. “Ready to get started, teach?”

What a gorgeous sound his laughter was.

“Actually,” you said, “I got something for you. Wait here a moment, lemme go grab it.”

He raised a brow but didn’t raise any objections as he sat down and tugged his tie to loosen it a few inches, saying that he’d be right there.

You had to resist the urge to skip to your room to locate the record and retrieve it from the drawer you had safely stored it in. It was your sock drawer, actually. You wanted to keep it somewhere protected while it tarried for its new owner. You sang the melody of your newest single quietly as you picked it up, inspecting the album cover for any indication that it had been touched since you last put it in there.

Pristine. Obviously aged, but in flawless condition otherwise.

Sounds from your living room brought pause to your actions right as you closed the drawer after dumping all your socks back into it.

…Was that music?

Frowning, you picked up the record and crept towards the source of the noise. You recognized it instantly – it was the most notable piece written by the notorious Gojo Saichi. It was considered the most difficult composition created within the last century or so. You’d listened to it on repeat occasionally, attempted it dozens of times, though you always fell short before the second movement started, which came early on.

Was Satoru watching a video? No, the melody was too clear and full to sound like it was coming out of a phone speaker.

Then…

You froze in the entrance to the hallway, stuck in place as you watched Satoru play the oeuvre flawlessly. From where you were standing, at an angle, you could see his precise actions and motions. Every note came to him as naturally as air, each shift in tempo as easy as blinking, down to the fragile, silk-like contrast that made the instrument sound as if it was a weeping widow, sitting on a window sill as she descanted to the moon, alone.

His digits knew exactly where to go, when, how deeply to press, how to shift between fierce and floaty as if he was born to do exactly this.

As your eyes flickered from his hands to his face, you saw that his eyes were closed. He was doing what some musicians could only ever dream of achieving in their careers; he was uniting with the music, playing as one, letting it fill his heart, then pour out with every throb like the very blood in his veins.

The most complicated, difficult, astronomical concerto known to man in the modern age, and he was playing it like it was nothing.

Satoru must have sensed your burning gaping as his hues flickered open and his hands stilled over the claviature. He looked over towards you, his mien morphing into something resembling embarrassment.

You staggered closer. “That…that’s…that piece was…written by Gojo Saichi…” You mumbled, barely able to get the words out. You set down the record onto the coffee table, already having forgotten about it.

You were flabbergasted, rattled as you came to a stop at the side of the piano. He…how could he have played that so well? Wasn’t he barely in the advanced category? That was…that was professional, grade A, genius level music he played.

“Yeah,” he grinned, and you would have believed his show of being sheepish if the gleam in his eyes didn’t give him away. “He’s my dad.”

You sluggishly dropped onto your spot on the bench, peering at the keys but seeing nothing as you unpacked the bombardment of information you witnessed.

“That’s…the– that’s the hardest piece…even I can’t…”

“I know,” he rubbed his nape. “He basically forced me to stay up day and night playing it until I got it right.”

“But…how?” You tilted your head, peering up at him from the corner of your eye.

Satoru shrugged like he hadn’t just dropped a fucking bombshell on you. “I asked him to teach me when I was a teen,” You heard him say. “I’m sorry for deceiving you,” he apologized, not sounding very sorry at all.

“I…” You labored to find the right words. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Honestly?” He asked. You nodded, and he let out a heavy sigh.

Instead of answering immediately, he stood up and pulled you to your feet as well, pulling you into the kitchen, where he filled your kettle with water and put it to heat up.

You desperately wanted to know what exactly was going on, but couldn’t find it in yourself to rush him. He went about methodically picking out both your mugs from your cupboard, tossing a bag of tea into both, grabbing the bowl of sugar on the counter, and setting it all down on the table while he waited for the kettle to whistle. He seemed lost in thought, while you had many and none at all at the same time.

You could only observe him as he picked his words carefully.

He finally began when the shrill noise of boiling water filled the room. “I don’t know if you remember – probably not, since you didn’t recognize me – but we actually did meet a while ago. I was a lot different back then,” he said as he poured the water into both mugs, afterwards placing it back on the stove and holding his hand sideways at roughly chest level. “Maybe this high, scrawny, kind of a douchebag,” he admitted with a chuckle.

You were still in shock over the whole situation. All you could do was silently urge him to continue by leaning closer, accepting the cup when he passed it to you. Heat spread through your fingertips, easing away the frosty feeling you didn’t notice set in.

“You were playing the piano in the music room at the school we went to together. It was…honestly, beautiful. I grew up with a famous pianist for a dad, but even he can’t make music sound as alluring and gentle as you can,” he continued, awkwardly holding his own mug. “So, when I saw you again a few months ago, I couldn’t believe it was you. I always wanted to ask you to play something for me when we were younger, but could never get the nerve to.”

As he spoke, the memories were beginning to filter in through the thick haze in your brain.

You were so focused on writing music and learning to be a great musician like your grandmother that you never really paid attention to your surroundings or the people around you if they weren’t your granny, parents, direct friends, or music teacher.

From what you did remember, Satoru was always a confident, cocky boy, shameless and loud. To hear he was…shy about asking you to play for him was hard to believe.

“So, I finally let my dad start teaching me,” he rambled on when you didn’t respond. “I’ve tried so many times to replicate the song you played, but I could never get it right. I know it’s probably a long shot, but you don’t happen to remember what song that was, do you?”

You thought back, scraping the dust off your highschool recollections. There was one piece you had hyperfocused on perfecting during the last year there, determined to play it exactly as your grandmother had.

You never did manage to master it.

You set down the tea you had only sipped at twice and walked past him into the living room, heading to your piano in a sort of trance. You slid onto the bench, and set your fingers on the keys. Muscle memory took over, the gentle tune coming to life in…how long had it been since you last played this?

You let the music flow through you, gave it access to your heart, allowed it to peer into the deepest parts of your soul, and simply followed the path it created.

“Was it this one?” You asked quietly.

When you looked up at him, his eyes were wide, lips parted as he stared at you with nothing less than amazement. “That– that’s the one. Which– what’s it called?”

“It’s a piece my grandma wrote for my parent’s wedding,” you answered. “She didn’t tell me what it’s called. I’m not sure if it has a name to begin with. She played it for me once, and I,” you huffed out a short, choked chuckle, “I became obsessed. I spent every day as a senior trying to get it right, to play it like she did, but…”

Your fingers slowed into a stop as you looked at them blankly, recalling your attempts, and the disappointment that followed each failure. You memorized it after playing it just twice, but it didn’t help you reach your goal in the end.

You startled when his hand rested lightly atop of yours, his body partially leaned over your shoulder so he could look you directly in the eye. This close, you felt his light breaths as they brushed your cheek. You could see the exact shade and hue of the teal composing his striking irises, match the exact pace of his heartbeat to a sonata, hear him swallow nervously.

“Keep playing,” he rasped, sounding almost desperate. “Please.”

You obliged. How could you say no to him when he looked at you like that? When he requested it so feebly in a trembling voice that was close to cracking? How could you say no when you saw and felt firsthand how his body relaxed when you filled the room with the lilting melody once again?

The music hopped and glided, playful in some parts, somber and tranquil in others. He stayed right where he was, the heat of his stomach resting against your upper back, thawing the tension in your shoulders as his hands held them gently, thumbs rubbing circles into your tight trapezius.

In every way, the ballad reminded you of your grandma, of your parents, of your childhood spent trying to reach a point where you were truly happy with how you played each note.

But, if that was the case…

How come you saw Satoru’s eyes when you closed yours and listened to your own hands dance across the keys?

Why did his smile, his laugh, his touch, his voice, his everything, come to mind when you picked apart every stanza and bar? If you put together all the notes a specific way and decoded them, you swore they’d spell his name.

Your hands drifted and halted as you reached the end of the lilt.

Or, rather, the end as you knew it.

There was a brief pause, then he mumbled, barely above a hum, “is that it?”

“Grandma never showed me how it ended,” you told him morosely. “She said she’d tell me ‘when the time is right’, but…she died before she could.”

He sat beside you and took your right hand into his. His fingers massaged meaningless shapes into the creases of your palm and the smooth plane of the dorsum. Neither of you dared break the silence, mulling in your own worlds.

Satoru was the one to cautiously cross the line of quiet, doing his best to not disturb it. He wrapped his left arm around your back, pulling you into his side while continuing to toy with your dainty digits.

“We’ll find it together,” he whispered.

─────•(-•ʚɞ•-)•─────

Truth be told, you never imagined you’d find yourself in this kind of place before – especially not in this position.

Your hand hovered over your brow, shading your eyes from the brilliant sun as it shined low in the sky, kissing the horizon. Though it was setting, the approaching night was warm as ever. A pleasant breeze ruffled the fabric of your dress and caught the strands of your hair that managed to slip loose from the style your mother put them in.

Stars were already beginning to dot the expanse above, glittering and so, so crystalline when you were this far outside the city. You never thought you’d get to see them so clearly, enough to point out individual constellations, and even identify Jupiter and Venus.

You never had a reason to leave the bounds of the city before, so all this was a distant dream you might have had once when you were a teenager.

But here you were, outside a lovely villa, surrounded by friends, family, and loved ones, miles away from where light pollution would dare to touch. The buzzing, lively chatter of dozens of guests filled the air; the clinks of glasses, the clacks of forks and knives on plates, all of it was so animated. You felt like you were in a sort of daze, overwhelmed with happiness to the point that it almost didn’t feel real.

A pair of soft lips pressed against your temple, drawing your attention to radiant, minty-ocean hues.

Satoru gazed at you with nothing short of pure, raw, true adoration. Like every fiber in his body, each and every singular cell, was dedicated to loving you.

“I have one more present left for you,” he murmured against your lips, giving you a chaste kiss right after before he stood up and raised his glass. He tapped the back of his knife gently on the side, creating a chiming noise that settled the ongoing conversations with ease.

Once all the attention was on him, he set both objects down and began speaking.

“I know we’ve already said it a lot, but I wanted to thank you all again for coming here to celebrate this day with us,” he said, turning his gaze to you. “This is truly the happiest day of my life – so far,” he added cheekily, earning him a laugh from the crowd. “So, before all the festivities end tonight, I wanted to do one last thing, if you’d all be so kind as to grant me this moment.”

Of course they would. Satoru was just that type of person. Charisma poured off him in waterfalls, charming anyone he spoke to without effort – you included.

He pushed back his chair, moving to leave. Confused, you grasped his arm and called his name.

There was a glint of something in his eyes, something you couldn’t identify, not with the light tingle of wine sitting in the back of your mind and the overstimulation of the grand day.

“Just listen, baby,” he whispered to you, then he was weaving through the guests, snaking his way to the grand piano situated off to the side of where everyone was situated. “This is a little song I heard many, many years ago, and fell in love with from the first few notes. I’d like to dedicate it to my mother-in-law, father-in-law, their late mother, and I would like to especially dedicate it to my lovely wife.”

Your mother gasped, grabbing your arm as soon as Satoru began playing the familiar melody of the diapason you had been taught ages in the past. It was the one your grandmother played for you, just once. It was the one she played for your mother and father for their wedding. It was the one you played for Satoru, once unknowingly, and every time after that intentionally.

The one he was playing for you now.

Your mother teared up faster than you did, reaching for a clean napkin to dab her eyes with while she waved her free hand at her face, trying to stave off the tears so that they didn’t smear her mascara, though she wasn’t succeeding. Your father was gently shushing her, rubbing her shoulder while he looked between you and Satoru with pride, and you…

You recalled the first time you heard him play the composition his father had written, when you still believed he was just an advanced player. Back then, you felt entranced.

Now, you felt completely spellbound.

You lifted yourself, carefully making your way between the enchanted spectators. Some clutched and squeezed your hand as you passed, and a few others breathed out little congratulations to you, not risking breaking the delicate atmosphere.

By the time you made it to him, your vision was blurry, and he was playing the last line of bars.

The arrangement floated into the placid, halcyon evening, each individual note rising like a star to join the thousands that looked on with bated breath, protecting this little moment of clement apotheosis.

His hands swept across the final few steps, barely touching the keys at all. The concluding tone resounded, fragile and silk-like, followed by a second of calm silence before the crowd erupted with cheers, hoots, and deafening applause.

Satoru rose from the bench, encircling your waist with his arms and pulling you in for a deep kiss. It echoed in you, the sweetest lullaby, the happiest composition that could never be written down identically. It was one only the two of you could hear and feel, one only the two of you could dance, live, cry, laugh, breathe, and love to.

Of all the endings you ever tried to give that precious lullaby your grandmother had written so long ago, the one Satoru created was perfect.

Because you created it together.

─────•(-•ʚɞ•-)•─────

banner by cafekitsune ♥

#jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #fem reader #I'm going light on the tags fn #is this considered light lmao #fluff #jjk fluff

150 notes · View notes

koolades-world · 2 months ago

Note

Hi hi! I’m sorta new to tumblr, but I really like ur blog so far <3! I wanna ask if you could do MC coming out to the brothers as trans? Transmasc preferred, but it’s okay for really any gender. I’ve been a little dysphoric lately (cuz I’m transmasc lol) and I know your fics and stories always cheer me up!!

hi! of course! this is a little late, but I hope this still helps. so glad to hear my silly writing cheers you up!

I do remember doing something similar to this but I don’t think it was specified as transmasc or transfem. if this is the same thing, we just have two now haha

Trasnsmasc Mc comes out

Lucifer

if you are going by a new name now, he wants to know

will make sure to update it everywhere in paperwork

he ensure everyone is aware of this change, and anybody who intentionally ignores it will suffer consequences

dead names are dead for a reason, and he wants make sure you feel respected

Mammon

he's the self proclaimed king of fashion

will help you add more gender affirming pieces of clothing to your wardrobe!

if you want, you can steal from his own closet

it can be shared custody clothing or not, he just wants to make you happy <3

Levi

will help you explore media and find your favorite trans characters!

he understands how comforting it can be to have your fav be relatable

he's always ready to listen to your rants and woes

the least he can do for you is be your diligent listener

Satan

if you're interested in HRT and or surgeries, he'll be by your side the entire time

you won't have to pay a cent because he insists on covering it for you. he's firm in his belief that feeling good about yourself should not be locked behind a paywall

he'll help you do your research but all final decisions are up to you

your body, your choice <3

Asmo

say it with me

cute and fun binders!

yes, of course he believes everyone should own neutrals of every type of clothing, just in case but he believes there should be fun counterparts to them too!

if you can't find a binder you really love, he'll work with raphael to make you one you adore!

Beel

if you want to look more masculine, he's more than willing to lend you some workout tips

if it's gender affirming, he will make sure to help you out

you can use his soaps if you want. he's more than happy to share with his favorite person!

he makes sure you're caring for yourself properly of course. he loves you so much

Belphie

he's very aggressive with making sure everyone is using your correct pronouns!

he doesn't even let accidents slide if they don't correct themselves (but of course, if they do, he doesn't get on them haha)

using the correct pronouns isn't that hard

he always includes his pronouns when introducing himself so you aren't the only one to do so and so you don't feel alone

#obey me #obey me!#obey me x reader #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me beel #obey me levi #obey me belphie #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date #obey me! shall we date?#headcanons #male reader

68 notes · View notes

flightlessangelwings · 9 months ago

Text

You Should See the Other Guy

Frankie Morales x gn!reader x Benny Miller (Messy Pile of Affection Universe, but can stand on its own)

Word count- 2.2k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), queer thruple, protective!Frankie, Benny fighting in the ring, established relationship, oral (m receiving), threesome, riding, fluff

Notes- Getting this in just in time for the Triple Frontier Anniversary Event! Thanks for hosting this @triplefrontier-anniversary @romanarose @for-a-longlongtime! And while this fic is written purposefully with a gender neutral reader for this event, please be aware that the entireity of MPoA is a fem reader. But this fic can also be read on its own too! Enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post new things!

Benny felt the adrenaline rush from the cheers of the crowd. Sweat dripped from his face and his muscles strained as he gave everything he had to take down his opponent. It was always a rush for him, and he loved what he did, even if decent fights that brought in money and prestige were few and far between these days. But, there was something else that motivated Benny lately. Two somethings, actually. And he felt the two pairs of eyes trained on him even when he couldn’t see your faces.

Your hand stayed clutched in Frankie’s as the two of you watched your boyfriend in the ring. This wasn’t new for you- Benny and you had been a couple for some time before Frankie joined you. Even though you hated to see him get hurt, you knew this was what Benny wanted, and you supported him fully. As you came to watch more and more of his fights, it became a little easier for you, and you knew he could handle himself.

“Plus I always have my baby to take care of me anyway,” Benny would say when you worried for him more in the beginning.

A smile came across your face as you thought about his words. But, you felt the strain of your other boyfriend’s hand in yours, calling your attention. Taking a lull moment in the fight, you broke your gaze away from Benny to Frankie and you noticed the way his jaw was clenched tightly, every muscle in his face strained with tension.

“Hey, Frankie,” you tugged his hand to get his attention, “You alright?”

“Fine,” he replied in a reflex as he glanced over at you. Frankie softened his expression when he saw the worry in your eyes, “Fine,” he repeated in a lighter tone, “It’s just… It’s different now. You know?”

“I do,” you gave him a soft smile, “I know,” your tone was hushed as you rested your head on his shoulder, “He’ll be alright, Frankie,” you reassured him.

The tension in Frankie’s muscles melted slightly under your touch, and you felt him relax a little. In front of the two of you, the fight went on and the crowd roared around you as Benny knocked out his opponent. Both you and Frankie leapt for joy as your boyfriend pranced around the ring in victory.

Benny’s heart jumped in his chest as he caught a glance of you and Frankie nuzzled together in the front row. He wished he had his phone so he could capture the moment forever, but it would just have to live in his memory. He winked at the two of you and blew a quick kiss before he turned to receive his prize and got swept away from the rink.

“Shall we?” you asked Frankie as you gestured towards the locker rooms.

Frankie nodded, “I’ll go meet Ben in the locker room while you get the car.”

You kissed his cheek, “Meet you guys outside,” you mumbled in his ear with a smirk. It had become the new routine for the three of you, and Frankie settled in with you and Benny quickly and comfortably. As if he was meant to be with the two of you.

But something was off with Frankie today. You could sense it before you walked away, but you decided now was not the time to bring it up. Besides, Frankie had seemed a little tense in general lately, and you and Benny already had a plan in mind to help him with that…

“Hey Ben,” Frankie called into the locker room as he stepped in. His nose scrunched when he was hit with the overpowering smell of sweat, but he shrugged it off with a shake.

“Babe!” Benny lifted his arms up in victory, “I can’t seem to lose when you two are around! My lucky charms!” He closed the space between their bodies and pulled Frankie in for a hug, kissing his cheek when he was close.

“Yeah,” Frankie mumbled as he held his boyfriend close, feeling the sweat from his chest and the blood dripping from his nose, “Ben…” he scowled when he broke away enough to get a better look at his face, “You’re gonna break your fucking nose one of these days.”

“Hey, Frankie, relax,” Benny shrugged off Frankie’s concern, “You should see the other guy,” he chuckled.

Frankie’s face remained in a deep frown. He had seen the other guy, and even though Benny was the winner, his face didn’t look like it.

“What?” Benny let out a nervous laugh when he noticed Frankie’s face didn’t change, “You worried I’ll get too ugly for the two of you and you’ll leave me?”

“That’s not it and you fucking know it,” Frankie snapped back.

The worry in his face made Benny pause for a moment as he realized just how much Frankie worried for him now that they were together. You had worried a lot when you first started coming to watch his fights too, but as time went on, you either had more confidence in him or you got better at hiding how scared you were. Benny wasn’t sure which it was.

Seeing the drop in Benny’s face, Frankie let out a sigh, “Nevermind,” he waved it off, deciding not to push the subject any further, “Let’s go and celebrate your victory, baby.”

Benny’s face lit up, “Hell yeah! That’s my babe!”

“Frankie!” Benny’s voice called from the bedroom.

“Could you come here?” your voice added.

Puzzled, Frankie quickly made his way into the bedroom where he was frozen in his tracks by the sight that greeted him. You and Benny knelt together on the bed… with nothing on your bodies. Frankie’s blood rushed through his veins as his skin warmed and his cock instantly hardened.

“What….?”

“You’ve been a little tense lately, Frankie baby,” you purred as you rose from the bed and reached for his shoulders, “And we thought… You could use a little something,” you smirked as you massaged his shoulders for a moment before you tugged at his shirt.

“Baby…”

Benny followed suit and took his place on the other side of Frankie, “Here,” he joined you in removing his clothes, “Let us take care of you this time, babe,” he whispered as he placed a feather light kiss right under Frankie’s ear.

Frankie breathed both your names as he found himself stripped nude and led to the bed. His mind swam as his perspective flipped from his two partners laying him on his back on the large plush bed.

“You spend so much time worrying about everyone else, Frankie,” you spoke softly.

“That you need yourself taken care of,” Benny finished the thought.

“Fuck…” Frankie whispered as he watched you and Benny position yourself on either side of him. You moved down between his legs, parting them to make yourself comfortable. Benny trailed a hand along his skin as he moved towards his head, cupping his face with his rough, calloused hands.

You let out a whimper as you settled yourself right above Frankie’s cock, rocking your hips up and down along his length. Frankie gasped at the contact, and his cock twitched underneath your body. Benny’s eyes caught the movement and he stayed transfixed on your body as your hips glided along your boyfriend’s fully hard cock.

“Shit babes,” Benny murmured, “That’s so fucking hot!”

A giggle escaped your lips as you leaned forward and took Benny’s lips with your own. His hand lazily stroked his cock with one hand while the other still caressed Frankie’s face. Hearing the muffled moans of your kiss, Frankie opened his eyes and watched as you and Benny tangled your tongues above him.

He groaned at the sight before his gaze fell to Benny’s cock just inches from his face. Involuntarily, Franie licked his lips and darted his tongue out to touch the tip, which made Benny whimper into your mouth. The two of you broke away so Benny could look down at the way Frankie’s tongue swirled around the head of his cock.

“Fuck…” he groaned before Frankie took him completely into his mouth.

Benny let out a loud moan as his boyfriend’s warm, wet mouth engulfed him. You watched in awe as the two boys settled comfortably and connected together. For a moment, you were still as you watched Benny’s cock appear and disappear in Frankie’s mouth. But, you had a part to play in this too.

Carefully, you hovered your hips over Frankie’s cock and slowly, you lowered yourself onto him, his thick length penetrating you from below. The sharp gasp you let out echoed in the room as you felt the familiar stretch as you lowered yourself inch by slow inch.

If it weren’t for Benny’s cock in his mouth, Frankie’s own groan would have harmonized with yours. But, it was muffled, with only short gasps and pants escaping around the thickness in his mouth. Benny let out a growl as he watched his one partner’s cock disappear into his other partner. He knew his own cock twitched in Frankie’s mouth, as his heart fluttered similarly.

When your hips met Frankie’s, you let out a deep exhale. Opening your eyes at the sound of your name, you were met with Benny’s gaze piercing into you, and it made your heart skip a beat in your chest. The two of you stayed frozen for a moment before you both started to move at the same time, in perfect rhythm with each other without any words needed.

Frankie groaned and moaned underneath you as you rode him. Benny’s hips rocking in the same rhythm as you did, and between the two of you, Frankie became overwhelmed quickly in the best way possible.

You leaned forward a bit, driving Frankie’s length deeper into you while your hands landed on his chest. You kept the same rhythm, lifting and lowering your hips while you squeezed his chest. Frankie’s moan reverberated around Benny’s cock as he felt you knead and tug at his pecs, adding to the sensations he already felt.

A muffled moan came from underneath you, and you knew by the way Frankie tensed that he was close.

“You gonna cum for us now, Frankie baby?” you purred.

Benny’s own rhythm stuttered at your words, “Shit…” he groaned, “Say that again, baby.”

You smoked, loving the way the two strong men bowed to you at times, “You gonna cum too, Benny baby?”

“Fuck yeah,” he growled through gritted teeth as he drove his cock deeper into Frankie’s mouth.

Frankie in turn grabbed Benny’s hips and held him close, encouraging him to give him all he had. All the air left your lungs as you watched both of them fall apart before you. Benny came soon after, spilling himself into Frankie’s mouth with a loud moan and string of curses. The room spun as you watched his eyes roll back into his head while Frankie held him close.

You picked up your pace, feeling the heat build in your own body as Frankie’s cock hit that sweet spot inside you over and over again. But, you wanted to feel him fill you up first, and your jaw clenched as you saved off your own orgasm. Tonight was about Frankie after all.

It didn’t take long for you to get your wish, and through a muffled moan, you felt Frankie fall over the edge. His one hand flew to grab onto your hip as he bucked his own hips up and spilled himself deep inside you. Benny pulled out to give Frankie some air, and the scream immediately filled the room with his moans and groans.

“Fuck!” you cried out as you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore. Clenching your inner muscles around Frankie, you came hard, your entire body trembling over him as you rode out both your orgasms together while Benny watched in awe.

Unable to hold yourself up any longer, you collapsed down, slipping out of Frankie in the process. Benny also flopped down on the other side of Frankie, both your bodies framing his own on the bed. None of you moved for several moments, all of you taking the opportunity to catch your breaths.

You were the first to move, rolling onto your side to watch your boys in the low light, “You look better, Frankie,” you giggled as you watched the afterglow light up his face.

Without opening his eyes, Frankie grinned, “You should see the other guy,” he peeked one eye open to catch Benny’s own smirk before he closed them again.

Benny only laughed as he leaned forward and kissed Frankie’s temple tenderly. He then leaned more to kiss your cheek. You returned the gesture, kissing both your boys before you settled in Frankie’s one arm embrace. Benny settled on the other side. You and Benny tangled your legs together over top of Frankie as the three of you made yourselves comfortable.

“Hey babes, I…” Frankie started.

“It’s ok, Frankie,” you cut him off.

“We know,” Benny added.

Frankie’s smile only grew wider. You both knew how much Frankie cared, and how much he worried for both of you. And you both appreciated it. You all felt safe with each other. And while sometimes emotions almost became overwhelming, it was from a place of love. For as long as the three of you had each other, everything would be alright. As long as the three of you had your large king size bed to come back to.

91 notes · View notes

runariya · 3 months ago

Note

I just found your blog and turns out, I like your writings. Infinity is so cool, I miss reading other AU like aliens. Although I'm looking forward for chp 4 of My Beloved Villain, will you ever consider writing Jungkook's POV for Infinity? Just a short drabble on how he find her (lying on the wilderness' floor; maybe a bit extra when he clean and take care of her when she's unconscious) and how he react when she ran from him in the shop. Thank you so much for sharing your writings. I'm still binge reading from your masterlist. Really looking forward to your next update. Take care and stay healthy.

Hey anon 💕

tysm for your kind words and taking the time to explore my blog! I rly feel you with Alien!AUs, it's such a weak spot for me too. And considering the infinity!couple is special to me and your suggestion sparked such a joy to me, I couldn't help but to write 3.5k for your drabble request lol

So, yeah, hope you enjoy and tysm again for your support 🥰 you take care and stay healthy as well!

• (drabble below cut) •

Jungkook had been chasing a ghost ever since the day he came of age, hurtling alone from galaxy to galaxy in the quiet solitude of his spaceship. He was a drifter among the stars, born with markings that no other Nepturian possessed, a curious anomaly. From his first breath, he was set apart, regarded with a mix of reverence and envy—a strange creature in the eyes of his people, a mystery even to himself. The elders spoke of him in hushed tones, their awe thinly veiling their curiosity, while his peers cast sideways glances tinged with bitterness.

For most of his life, he had lived with no understanding of his place in the universe. Then, as his legal age approached, everything shifted. The council of wise men summoned him and his family, revealing at last the truth that had been hidden from him: his destiny was bound to the very essence of his home planet. It was a burden he hadn’t known he was carrying, and when he reached his age of majority, there were no cheers of celebration, no revelry marking the occasion—only solemn farewells. His journey began that day, a lone traveler cast out into the stars with nothing but his ship and his mission.

The years stretched long as he wandered, his search ceaseless, his heart tethered to the elusive promise of saving. Along the way, he consumed every scrap of knowledge he could find about humans, the strange, fragile beings who had once roamed the galaxies. But the more he learned, the heavier his heart became.

It became clear, with every text, every conversation, that he had arrived too late—the human race had vanished, extinguished like a flame snuffed out in the dark. Yet, despite the overwhelming evidence, a small, stubborn hope clung to him like a shadow he couldn’t get rid off. That hope sparked to life again when, in a seedy starport tavern, he overheard a pair of Stranpy whispering about a human female. They claimed to have seen her in a brothel on a distant planet, a fading relic in a world that no longer recognised her kind.

Jungkook hadn’t hesitated. His ship roared to life, cutting through the void of space as it carried him seven galaxies away to the desolate outpost known only as Morthak. When he landed, the brothel wasn’t the dilapidated hovel he had expected—it was sleek, high-tech, a tower of hollow decadence in the midst of a barren, wild world. Yet something within him shifted, and as he stepped towards the entrance, his body recoiled. His markings, usually dormant, flared with a light of their own, casting a pale, blueish glow over his arms.

His instincts screamed at him, tugging him away from the gleaming doors, as he could feel it in his bones—a pull, an insistent force driving him away from the path he had set out on. His feet stumbled, then steadied, as he veered off into the tangled underbrush that surrounded the facility. Each step felt lighter, as though the very ground beneath him was trying to push him forwards, his breath fogging and uneven in the cold air. He didn’t understand the compulsion that gripped him, didn’t know why his chest felt tight as he fought through the dense jungle, but he could feel that he was drawing closer to something—to someone.

When the foliage parted into a small clearing, the sensation hit him all at once. His instincts snapped into focus, narrowing his vision until all he could sense was the space in front of him. A scent lingered in the air, sweet and intoxicating, as potent as sugar dissolved in flame. It curled around him, drawing him in like a whisper in the dark, a promise of something precious and everything he searched for.

And it was at the edge of the clearing, where a small, scaled creature—something wild and feral, with scales and sharp eyes—snuffled around in the dirt. It pawed at the ground as though searching for its next meal, its snout grazing a damp patch of earth.

Jungkook moved closer, his heart thrumming with an unspoken warning. There was something wrong here, as he could feel it in his marrow, a tension building under his skin. The creature’s intent was clear, but what lay beneath its paws was not prey. He shooed it away gently, his voice low and steady, his hand sweeping the creature aside, and what he found beneath its paws twisted something deep within him.

Lying in the mud, half-buried in filth, was a human. You were small, fragile, your body covered in muck and leaves, as though nature itself had tried to reclaim you. Your skin, pale and bruised, seemed barely capable of sustaining life, your breath shallow and uneven, fogging in the night. It was as though the universe had abandoned you here, forgotten and broken, as if your very value was lost. Jungkook’s heart clenched painfully in his chest at the sight of you, as he knelt beside you, his hands hovering over your frail form as though afraid to touch, afraid to break whatever fragile tether still held you to this world.

“What have they done to you?” he whispered, the words a soft breath of anguish that he barely realised he had spoken. They were more for himself than for you, a bitter question aimed at the universe that had allowed such cruelty to exist. One glance at you, and he could see the scars, the suffering etched into your skin, the shadow of torment that clung to you like a second skin. It didn’t take a word from your lips to tell him the truth—your life had been hell.

Gently, he gathered you into his arms, your body light, almost weightless, as though the burdens you had carried had stripped you down to nothing but bones and breath. His markings, which had been flaring wildly only moments before, began to calm, their soft glow dimming into a shine that seemed to soothe not just him but you as well.

He didn’t care that the mud and grime smeared his clothes, didn’t care that the non-existent weight of you in his arms made him feel sick. All that mattered was getting you to safety. All that mattered was that you were no longer alone in this unforgiving world.

He would protect you now, with every breath in his body, with every beat of his heart. And nothing—no force in the galaxies—would take you from him.

Being back on his spaceship, he wasn’t sure where to place you—whether to settle you in the small, shadowed spare room of his ship or to let you rest in the white room, typically reserved for the stray hitchhikers he picked up from time to time. After a moment’s consideration, he decided the spare room, with its deep, dark colors, might overwhelm your frayed nerves too much. So instead, he opted for the white room, its soft, sterile light a break from the suffocating darkness you had surely endured up until now.

There you lay before him on a smooth surface—a table he had summoned from the blank wall with the brush of his hand. Your chest rose and fell faintly, as though each breath took more from you than it returned, your unconscious form trembling slightly as you fought the cold and exhaustion that gripped you. His movements were careful, tender, as he began to strip away the remnants of the dirty rags clinging to your skin, each piece of fabric came away, falling in a rotten heap beside him.

The act of undressing you did not stir within him any sense of awkwardness or discomfort, as for Nepturians, the body was something sacred and pure, beyond any shame. It was a vessel of life, and life itself was to be honoured, not hidden. Nudity was no more remarkable than the stars.

Once you were free of your soiled clothes, he took to washing you, his hands moving with a tenderness that belied his strength in so many ways. Warm water flowed over your body, trickling across skin that bore the stories of suffering in the form of countless scars he already noticed through the mud—pale ridges from poorly handled wounds against your otherwise smooth flesh.

He touched them lightly, his fingertips tracing their jagged paths with an almost reverent sorrow. Your bones seemed hollow beneath his touch, fragile as a bird’s, and he had to temper his strength, fearful that one wrong move would break you even more. Your skin, cold and pale with the bluish tint of chill, stirred a deep ache within him that nothing had ever managed to provoke.

The sight of you—so broken, so fragile—unraveled him, let him feel as the most powerless creature in existence. He had thought himself immune to such feelings, had survived the burden of the fall of his own planet without much more than a fleeting ache. But now, seeing you like this, something in him splintered like old battered wood.

The weight of his homeworld’s destruction had been bearable, even trivial, compared to the devastation he felt at your past suffering. The prophecy, the grand destiny he had been given without wanting to, all seemed inconsequential now. None of it mattered, not the council’s words, nor the fate of his people. His sole purpose in the universe had crystallised into one clear, unwavering truth: he had to protect you. Whatever had happened to you, whatever horrors had led you here, they would never touch you again. You were his mate, his responsibility, and the thought of anything or anyone harming you again sent a rage simmering beneath his skin.

Still, he knew his feelings, his protective urges, would not help you right now. As he gently wiped away the last remnants of the grime, revealing more of the soft, delicate flesh beneath, he debated how he would face you once you woke. If your body was this ravaged, this close to collapse, then your mind must be even worse off. Whatever torments had taken root in your spirit would likely outstrip those your body had endured, and the last thing he wanted was to overwhelm you with emotions you couldn’t yet comprehend. He would have to suppress his own instincts, stifle the fierce need to comfort you with touch, to tell you that you were safe now. You needed control more than you needed affection, and he knew it.

He pressed his feelings down, locking them away beneath a cloak of detachment he truly didn’t want but knew, that it was a necessary restraint. He could not afford to show you the depth of his connection, not yet. You needed stability, a sense of distance, of control over your surroundings. Anything less might send you into a panic, and he couldn’t risk you seeing him as a threat. You were so vulnerable now, both in body and mind, and he feared that a rash instinct of selfdefense could shatter whatever fragile connection remained between your soul and this world.

After he had dressed you in his clothes, the oversized black fabric swallowing your petite form, he draped a thick blanket over you, tucking it gently around your body to help coax warmth back into your cold limbs and watching how your shivering gradually eased.

Jungkook took one last look at you, his expression full of tender longing despite you being near, before stepping away from the room. But even after he left, he didn’t truly leave you, as he retreated to the cockpit, where he kept a watchful eye on you through the CCTV screen, his gaze never wavering as his ship flowed on autopilot through space and time. You lay there so still, so quiet, almost peaceful with the small smile grazing your lips in your slumber, yet every flicker of movement on the screen caught his full attention, every subtle shift in your breathing or twitch of your fingers quickening his pulse with a quiet anxiety he wasn’t familiar with.

He didn’t know how you would react when you woke, didn’t know if you would panic or strike out or collapse back into the depths of your broken mind. He only hoped, with a longing he had never known before, that you would remain calm—that you wouldn’t see him as a danger, hoped you wouldn’t hurt yourself in a desperate attempt to protect yourself from him. Because if you did, if you recoiled from him in fear, it would destroy him far more thoroughly than anything else ever could.

Jungkook stood by your side, as it took weeks for you to begin feeling even the faintest flicker of comfort around him, though the wariness never left your eyes completely. Always on edge, you carried yourself like a creature awaiting the next strike of inevitable doom, poised for a danger he knew would never come. Jungkook understood, though—deeply. It would take time, time measured in baby steps, in small moments where trust could be tested and proved, over and over again, and that was okay. Each small step forward, each moment you chose not to flinch away, filled him with a secret, quiet joy he had never known. Progress, however halting, was a balm to the ache that had taken root in his chest since the day he’d found you.

It was during one of these stretches of fragile peace that he noticed the rash creeping along the lower curve of your back, the angry red patch of skin making him frown with concern. You hadn’t mentioned it—probably hadn’t wanted to out reasons unknown to him—but he’d seen it. So he decided he needed to gather some herbs to help soothe the irritation. That’s when he decided to make stop at Thraxor, a planet known for its medicinal offerings. He suggested you come along, gently persuading you that the change of scenery might do you some good, offer a breath of fresh air to your mind. You hesitated but ultimately agreed, which felt like a surge of quiet triumph. It was another small victory, a moment where you chose to step out of the shadows, if only for a little while.

Jungkook’s instincts prickled the moment you entered the Silvex shop, an unshakable feeling settling low in his gut, as his eyes scanned the room warily, watching every shadow and movement with a sharpened eyes. He tried to keep his tone light as he conversed with the Silvex behind the counter, suppressing the uneasy twist in his chest. He didn’t want his nerves to ripple into you, didn’t want you picking up on his unease when you’ve clearly took a chance. So, he encouraged you to wander the shop, hoping the distraction would keep you occupied while he finished his purchase.

The Silvex, with its slick, slithering voice, made his skin crawl, but Jungkook pushed forward, asking about the herbs he needed, his nerves burning with each passing second. Then, out of nowhere, the Silvex uttered a single sentence that turned the air in the room to ice despite the heat on the planet.

"She's a nice slave," the Silvex giggled, the words slipping out carelessly amidst the discussion of roots and tonics fitting for your rash. "How much do you want for her? I could use her just perfectly for my other business."

In that instant, a deep, all-consuming red rage flared across Jungkook’s vision. It was as if a switch had been flipped, his blood boiling with an intensity he had never known he was capable of. “She’s not for sale,” he growled through clenched teeth, each word a barely contained explosion.

But it was too late. In his fury, he hadn’t noticed the shift in your stance, hadn’t seen the widening of your eyes, hadn’t felt the tremor of panic rise in you while hidden behind the shelves. You had already taken off, bolting through the door before he could stop you.

His heart shattered in a sudden vice of terror, panic flooding him as he watched you disappear from sight. "Stop!" His voice rang out loudly as he lunged after you, barely aware of the Silvex scrambling to follow. The suns above beat down mercilessly, its blinding light burning his eyes as he stumbled into the open market. He squinted against the glare, desperation coursing through him as he spun in frantic circles, trying to catch a glimpse of you, but all he could see were the different shapes of strangers, the colours and sounds of the market merging into a dizzying chaos around him.

He began asking anyone he could find, breathless, his voice rising in desperation with every question asked. "Did you see a human? A girl? Where did she go?" Some shook their heads, others pointed vaguely towards the far end of the market, but none of it was fast enough, none of it got him any closer to you. His heart pounded wildly in his chest, each beat hurting more than the other.

Then, piercing through the noise around him clogging his ears, he heard it—your scream. It echoed off the narrow walls of an alley not far from where he stood, a loud short cry that sent a wave of new icy terror crashing over him without him having time to breathe. His heart sank, a sickening dread twisting his insides as he sprinted towards where your scream disappeared.

‘She should know,’ he thought frantically, his mind racing. ‘By now she should know she’s safe with me, that I would never let anything happen to her.’ But clearly, he had been wrong. His chest aching with self-loathing, anger at himself for failing you so completely.

You clearly didn’t trust him, and it was all his fault.

Jungkook shoved his way through the crowd, desperate to reach you before it was too late. He couldn’t lose you—not like this, not after everything. His breath burned in his lungs as he finally spotted you in the distance, standing there, your terrified eyes locking with his, and for a brief moment, hope surged in his chest. But then you were off again, fleeing before he could even call out. His voice broke, your name a desperate plea on his lips that fell on deaf ears.

He didn’t know what else to do—he had never expected you to be so fast and agile, so desperate in your escape. The Silvex appeared some distance before him, and for a split second, Jungkook cursed the day he had ever set foot in that forsaken shop. His mind raced, his very soul a storm of chaos and regret, until finally, in a move he would never have considered under normal circumstances, he did the unthinkable. "STOP HER!" he shouted into the crowd, the words tearing from his throat, filled with a desperation that scattered his bones.

For a brief, agonising moment, nothing happened, but to his immense relief—though it was tinged with a bitter taste of shame—a Necrovian stepped forward, his long, spindly arms reaching out to catch you as you passed. You struggled against him, but he held fast, and Jungkook’s legs nearly buckled with relief, but the anger for himself didn’t lessen any less.

The desperation that had gripped him moments before shifted, almost violently, into a burning anger, that surged through him, only directed at himself and at you. Anger at his own failure to protect you, to make you feel safe enough. And anger at you—for being so reckless, so unbelievably reckless, to run like that. Did you not understand how dangerous it was? How stupid it had been to run when you stood no chance of surviving out here alone? You would have been lost, or worse, if he hadn’t been there to chase after you.

He clenched his fists as he walked towards you, his jaw ticking with frustration, the heat of his emotions blazing through him even worse than all the suns in existence. He needed to do something, anything, to make you see—to make you finally realise that nothing could hurt you when you were with him. You needed to understand that. He needed you to understand that.

But still, you were safe now, and at the end of the day, it’s all that matters to him.

He would bring you back to the ship, and there, at last, he could breathe again and make things actually right this time.

Infinity ML • other work

#anon ask #fic: infinity #infinity bonus #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jjk x reader #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #jungkook smut

36 notes · View notes

starriislxt · 6 months ago

Text

໒ — YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL

hobie brown x afab!reader | duration: 1.0k

description: not being able to find jeans that can fit you, you start to feel down about yourself so hobie cheers you up with encouraging words and loving touches.

warnings: minors and ageless blogs do not interact! | sfw, hurt/comfort, a bit suggestive, insecurity, mention of losing weight + fluffy ending.

notes: before this account, i had an acc called spidersthetic and i ended up deactivating it, so i can start a new one since i wanted to do other fandoms. this was my first ever fic on hobie that was based on a request and i hope you guys like it.

masterlist 𐙚 previous fic 𐙚 taglist

You were excited, your shipment from shein just arrived and you were happy because you have been meaning to update your wardrobe for a while now. You wanted to find a pair of jeans that would be comfortable on you since the ones in the store never fit you. You were going to just give up but decided to give it another try by ordering online. Hobie was downstairs in the living room so he can rate your outfits.

You rip open the packages and take out all the clothes that were in them, you try on the new shirt and jacket first and make your way down to show him thinking how cute they looked on you.

When you enter the living room, you see Hobie sitting on the couch, manspreading as he scrolled through his phone. When he sees you coming, he puts his phone down and gives you his undivided attention. “What do you think, babe?” you said as you did a little spin for him and a grin appears on his face.

“It looks really good on you love, hell it would look even good on the ground,” he smirked and you playfully rolled your eyes as your cheeks heated up at what he was insinuating. “Hobes, be serious,” you playfully smack his arm and he lets out a chuckle. “I’m being serious,” he says as he takes your hand and kisses your palm making you smile. “Alright, I got many others to try on and show you,” you say as you retract your hand away from him and head back upstairs. “I can’t wait to see them all.”

You tried on more tops that you weren’t sure were going to fit you when you first saw them on the website but ended up fitting perfectly, you modeled a few to Hobie who loved them as well, you were pretty happy but it was now time to try on the jeans. You were very pretty nervous since it was so hard to find jeans that would fit you because of the thick thighs you had.

You open up one of the plastics that hold the jeans, take it out of the bag, and unfold, unbutton, and unzip it, taking a deep breath before putting one foot in follow by your other foot. “Please fit me…” you plead to yourself as you pull it up but your pleading went on deaf ears after the jeans couldn’t go past your thighs which you let out a groan as you roll your eyes.

“No no it’s okay, we prepared for this,” you take the jeans off and put them aside on the bed and get another pair of jeans that you had ordered, You thought it was best to buy a couple in different sizes to try out which size can fit you, one had to fit you, right?

Hobie scrolls through his phone, laughing at what some of his friends posted but comes to the realization that you haven’t left the bedroom in a while to show him more of the clothes you bought. He puts down his phone and stands up as his facial features took on a worried expression thinking something bad happened and that’s why he hasn’t heard from you.

He knocks on the bedroom door before entering after hearing a soft ‘come in’ was heard, when he walks in, he sees you at the end of the bed pouting and sulking. “What’s wrong, love?” he questions as he walks closer to you noticing how your gaze was focus on the floor so he sits on the ground in front of you so your gaze would meet his. “I tried on every pair of jeans I bought and none of them fit me,” you mumble as you lazily point to the pile of jeans you now have to send back.

You grip your thighs a bit as you break eye contact with him and look somewhere else, “I can’t find a size that will fit past my thighs, maybe…,” You let out a breath you've been holding in. “I should start losing weight,” Hobie gaze softens at the words you spoke about yourself, in his eyes every part of you was perfect, you never needed to change a thing about yourself so there was no way he was going to let you talk bad about yourself.

He straightens his legs out and pulls you onto his lap so you’re straddling him, he softly rubs your thighs, and when you focus your gaze on his chest he takes his hand to your chin using his index and point finger to softly move your head up to connect his eyes with yours. “I don't ever want you to change yourself, every part of you is beautiful,” he says as he continues to rub your thighs, never taking eye contact off of you.

“Don’t worry about the jeans, they’re just clothes, you have other options,” he picks up the rest of the plastic bags that were untouch and held shorts and skirts in them. “How about you try these on?” he question. “What if-”

“No, what ifs, I know they will fit you perfectly,” he kisses your forehead, earning a smile spread across your face. You get up and take one of the bags from him that held a pretty skirt, you take it out of the plastic bag and try it on. Just like Hobie said it fits you really well and you smile as you look at him you model a few poses and do a spin for him while thinking how cute it looks on you.

“What do you think?” Hobie was too shock to speak, he of course thought it looked cute on you, and like he said it fit you really well, it brought out your shape and hugged you in the right places. The thing he love most was seeing how your eyes lit up and a big smile on your face as you model for himl, he knew all you needed was a push, ”You look beautiful as always, love.”

Hobie gets up from where he sat and quickly walks over to you, pulling you closer to him as his hands travel from your hips to your ass, giving it a squeeze before he starts softly rubbing it and you lean more into his touch. “Thank you, I love you,” you softly spoke. “I love you more, you’ll always be beautiful in my eyes, don’t forget that.”

#ꪶ signed xoxo ꫂ #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x reader #spider punk x you #spider punk x reader #spiderpunk x you #spiderpunk x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #atsv x reader #marvel x you #marvel x reader #marvel x y/n #hobie x y/n #hobie brown x female reader #hobie brown x fem!reader #hobie x you #hobie x reader

45 notes · View notes

chaotic-mystery · 1 year ago

Text

Traitor | J.M.

Pairing: no outbreak!Joel Miller x reader!

Summary: This was a request I had received by @livingdeadmaria awhile ago and I finally got out of my funk to write! It’s based on the song Traitor by Olivia Rodrigo.

Word count: 1.3K || Warnings: angst. Angst and drinking and more angst. || notif blog for updates ||

You cleared your voice and took a deep breath, preparing for whatever was about to fall out of your mouth while the phone rang on the other end. Two rings and it went to voicemail but that didn’t surprise you. “Hey…I um… I know it’s late but I had to get some stuff off my chest. You always said I could call..if I needed you.” You sat in silence for a few seconds before you fiddled with your finger against your leg, questioning if you should even say anything. “D-do you remember how you used to read me sections of your book so I’d fall asleep faster because you said something about how sleep is important and I need it for my brain to stay sharp? Not sleeping so great these days to be honest with you..I remember you’d call me sweet pea and tell me to get comfy, it’s a long chapter. So I’d tuck myself next to you and you’d read for hours, even after I was asleep.” Your voice faded on the last bit of the sentence, your hand that was tucked into your coat pocket twirling a loose thread.

“I tried one of those audio books of some story to help me sleep but it didn’t work, she didn’t give the story enough of a monotone like you did. So then I tried music to help me fall asleep. I found out I love piano covers of songs. There’s one song though that could never be covered and that would be the one you showed me-” your voice cracked a little, the sting hitting your throat. “And I Love You So by Perry Como. That’s a good one to sleep to…has a lot of memories tied to it.”

The wind nipped at the tip of your nose and you sighed lightly, the puff of air disappearing in front of you. He showed you that song on the old radio he had tucked away in a shelf in his living room after you looked over his music collection he built over the years. He grabbed your hands and begged you to dance with him just until the song was over. As the short memory faded back into your mind and you were in the present, you stood up from the bench and finally walked inside your home. Taking off your coat and boots while your phone still squished against your cheek, you sniffled slightly.

“I heard that song today for the first time in a few weeks and it made me think of you. Took it as a sign to reach out. But then…I uh-” Hesitation overcame your voice before you continued.

“I saw you downtown earlier. Finally went to that winter festival thing they put on every year, the one I used to beg you to go with me to. Man, that was like pulling teeth with you, Joel.” It was. He said the lights and all the cheerful faces and overpriced hot chocolate wasn’t his thing. Of course you wanted to go anyway and you did go, alone.

“I was going to come up and tell you hi, see how you were…but then I noticed you with someone. Funny enough she looked like the one person you said you’d never date.” Your breath hitched and you made your way to the fridge to grab that bottle of wine you bought earlier to pour yourself a glass. You chugged down the first one and poured a second one before continuing the one sided conversation. The anger started to build up inside of you once more, completely taking over the good memories you had with him.

“I begged for you to tell me you had feelings for her, Joel. You always swore to me you didn’t, that I was paranoid for caring so much. Were you lying to me all those times I asked you anything about her? You didn’t even want to hold my hand in front of her towards the end of our relationship…why is that? I never said a word about what I actually thought was going on, just so you’d stay. I thought maybe, just maybe, if I played stupid you'd be happy with that and still stick with me. I loved you through everything, including your worst. Remember when you were terrified of me seeing you at your worst and you thought I’d leave? Never once did I do that, Joel. I stayed through all the bullshit you put me through, tried to help you be the best version of yourself that you could be. I showed you what love was again. You were the one who told me you couldn’t fall for someone after Sarah’s mom left and yet I stuck around. For you and for Sarah. You left me during my worst. Was I that shitty of a person to you that you didn't care about my feelings at all and thought the best thing to do would be to leave in the middle of the night after a fight?"

“Baby cmon I told you nothin’ is going on. She’s just a friend from years ago, I never had those feelings for her.” Joel followed you into your bedroom as you started to pack your stuff in a duffle bag, cleaning out the drawer he gave you in his dresser. “Baby, stop…just listen to me.” His hands grabbed your wrists and shook the clothes from your clutch, pulling you into his chest. Warm tears fell against his shirt and you broke down finally. All the pent up anger and sadness you had spilled onto the fabric against your cheek while Joel’s hand smoothed over your hair. “You’re my girl, okay? What can I do to make you trust me that she’s just a friend?” “Tell me you’ll never date her if we ever break up. I need to hear you say it.” The idea flopped out of your mouth before thinking it over but it was already out and in his ears. Joel just nodded and gave you a soft smile. “You have my word, I won’t date her if we break up. Which we won’t.” He kissed the top of your head and hugged you once more, his words still feeling a little empty.

That was a month before he broke up with you.

You downed the rest of the glass of wine and sighed, wiping the tears away from your cheeks. “I wish you would’ve thought this through before letting me fall in love with you, Joel. I really do. You betrayed me. You told me-” You choked out a sob and swallowed hard, “you told me you wouldn’t date her and you lied to me. How could you do this to me? Joel..we were together for two years and you left me when the going got tough…you ran right to her. Did anything we did matter to you?” With the tears clouding your vision, you squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head. “I hope you feel good about yourself, I really do. While she’s sleeping in the bed we made, I hope you replay this voicemail in your head and remember everything I said. I wish you’d call me after this to try to apologize for hurting me even more but I know you won’t. You’ll never be sorry for hurting me this bad and I think that’s what kills me so much. I know how kind you can be but it seems I’m not lucky enough to get that anymore. Thank you so much for making this heartbreak so much easier to get over. Just know that I always loved you and I would’ve never hurt you like this, you fucking traitor.” — Joel’s POV

He sighed and looked at the phone screen, the voicemail ending and the screen dimming out. His girlfriend woke up behind him in bed, rolled over and hooked her arm into his, “What’re you doing baby?” She asked tiredly but didn’t sit up to see his phone. Joel coughed and took a deep sigh before deleting the voicemail from his phone.

“Nothin’ sweet pea. Go back to sleep.”

#joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel miller fic #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfic #joel miller #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller pedro pascal #no outbreak!joel miller #joel miller angst #traitor by Olivia Rodrigo

134 notes · View notes

romanarose · 5 months ago

Text

About a Girl: Chapter 8

Beautiful header by my beloved @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

Joel Miller x Trans!Fem!Reader (Nickname, Blue)

Series Masterlist : The Last of Us Masterlist : Full Masterlist

Summary: For week 5 of my pride event: Struggles. Joel, Sarah, Blue, and

Warnings for whole fic, not chapter by chapter: 18+ ONLY!! I cannot warn against everything, but these are major themes. Joel is a lil ignorant but not out of hate. He just doesn't know. He's trying his best. There will be smut. Penetrative sex, all of the anal play, oral. There will be transphobia from other people. Addiction and alcoholism. QUICK child neglect not by Joel but I promise, Sarah is fine and is having a great time in life. Fetishization of women attracted to women by a shitty guy. Will update as needed. Again, this is adult content. Expect adult content.

Immersivity: Reader is transgender, AMAB female, reader has had gotten bottom surgery, not top, and is on hormones. reader has visible hair and a blue streak in hair, but not described. Could be braids, could be natural hair, whatever. Header is for aesthetics only. Reader is about Joel and Tommy's height. Let me know if i miss anything!

TRANS LIVES MATTER! TRANS YOUTH MATTER! TRANS ELDERLY MATTER! TRANS WOMEN MATTER! TRANS MEN MATTER! NON BINARY TRANS MATTER!

She was wearing the dress you bought her. They both were.

Joel watched from the kitchen as Sarah and Ellie had their little tea party in the cute matching dresses you had bought them. Ellie was over for a playdate, a tea party to be exact. For Sarah’s birthday, which Joel spent much of the time wishing you were there and Sarah mentioned multiple times she missed you as well, Tommy had handmade her a table and chair set.

Since Joel kicked him out, things had been… shitty. Joel missed him a lot, even though they still saw each other almost every day at work. It was the off season so hours were reduced, but Bill and Frank never left the four of them hanging, and made sure they had some contacts for extra hours at other farms or under the table work to make up their hours. Tommy had been riding with Tess now, and it seems in his spare time Joel wasn’t privy to had been making the set in Bill's garage. Sarah was ecstatic and first thing was asking if she could have Ellie over for a tea party the next weekend. Joel confirmed with Ellie’s very uninterested foster mom, saying he could pick up and drop off when she didn’t seem enthused about bringing her over two weeks in a row. Ellie was Sarah’s best friend, and since you were gone Sarah seemed down, so Joel was going out of his way to cheer his little girl up. She deserved it. She deserves everything. She deserved to have you in her life, Joel didn’t.

The night Joel came home to Tommy doing heroin was one of the worst nights of his life. He was so scared for her, scared she’d accidentally stuck herself with the needle or wandered off into the street to get hit or kidnapped or worse…if something happened to Sarah, his life would be over. There’d be no point anymore. He put her to bed the second time, comin downstairs to an empty living room but knowing you’d be coming in soon. He was scared, embarrassed that Talia had seen all that, and worried what Sarah saw and heard. Worried how he’d explain Tommy being gone… If he’d just gone to rehab it’d be easier, but he still refused. Instead, he lived with Tess and came over sometimes because of course he did, they were still brothers… it was hard to explain why Tommy didn’t live here anymore. And it was going to be hard to explain why you were gone.

“This isn’t gonna work.”

You blinked at him, mouth agap. “Joel… come on don’t do this.”

“You don’t wanna be with me like this.” Joel shook his head.

“Baby, no…” You try to approach him, raising your arms to hold him but he held out a hand. He was still surprise that you stopped. Kayla never respected his boundaries like that. “You think I care about this? I mean- fuck I mean I care, you know I care about Sarah and Tommy but I mean… I don’t view you differently. It makes me sad Tommy is hurting like this but I don’t view him different… Joel I wanna help-”

He cut you off. “You can’t.” Joel’s face was hardened, his soft eyes looking lost. “This isn’t a good time and… I can’t have distractions.”

Joel’s heart breaks when he see’s your lower lips quiver. “Am I a distraction to you?”

He wanted to say no. He wanted to say you were everything, you completed him, you were apart of his little found family and he loved you so, so much… but he couldn’t. Sarah was left alone for anything to happen because Joel was with you. It wasn’t your fault. It was his.

“Yes.”

Joel was sure Ellie wouldn’t like the dress, but she was wearing it. Maybe she just didn’t get nice things as a foster child. Joel thought that was a shame. Ellie was a good kid, nice if a little rough sometimes but never malicious. Her and Sarah were playinging some game with sticks as Joel sat on the deck drinking coffee with Tommy. He watched as she got a little over zealous and THWACK, a stick across Sarah’s face. It looked worse than it was, and sure probably hurt bad, but nothing but a few cuts on her face. Joel ran down the deck to hold a screaming Sarah, not noticing Ellie disappearing when his back turned. Tommy did.

As Sarah calmed down, Tommy appeared holding Ellie’s hand. Ellie tried to run out the gate but it was locked, she just managed to take get it undone, smart kid she was, when Tommy scooped her up.

As Sarah’s sobs turned into sniffles, Joel turned to see Ellie frozen, eyes wide and body shaking.

“Hey now…” Joel said softly. “It’s alright Ellie, it was an accident. See? She ’salright.” Joel motioned to Sarah who was wiping her eyes.

“Joel.” Tommy mumbles. “I don’t think that’s what she’s worried about…”

Oh. She was scared of him. “You’re okay, Ellie. I ain’t mad, game just got a little wild, that’s all. Right Sarah? You’re okay aren’t you?”

Sarah whipped her tears, standing up. “Yeah I’m okay!” Although her voice still wobbled and her face was still wet. “Daddy can we have a snack?”

“Yeah, of course babygirl. I’ll bring your chairs and table out so you can eat out here, sound good?”

Joel and Tommy’s eyes connected. The pieces were there to conclude what they thought, but the evidence was all circumstantial.

As Sarah and Ellie ate their snack, he noticed how quickly Ellie ate her food, asking for more. Joel decided to ask her foster mom is she could stay for dinner. He heard them talking as they ate.

“Where did you get these dresses? Did you buy them?” Ellie asked her.

“Uh-uh. Daddy’s girlfriend Blue bought them!”

“Where is she?”

Joel watched as Ellie glanced down at her food. “They broke up.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“I miss her. My mommy is gone too.”

“Did she die?”

“No, she and my daddy broke up too.”

“Your dad breaks up a lot. He shouldn’t be so picky, he’s too old.”

Joel couldn't help smile at that. Ellie didn’t have a filter. It wasn’t that he being picky; it wasn’t about you. You were perfect. Joel pictured himself marrying you, having a life with you. You were perfect. He was wrong. Everything about Joel’s life was chaos and it wasn’t fair to you or Sarah or Tommy to split his attention even more. And now, it seemed, he was taking on a lot of responsibility for Ellie too. It was just too much.

Joel turned on the TV while he cooked dinner, Ellie and Sarah playing upstairs.

“Grunge pioneer and Nirvana frontman Kurt Cobain found dead in his apartment today, thought to be a self-inflicted gunshot wound.”

Joel dropped the spoon into his spagetti sauce. “Shit.” He murmured, trying to fish it out with a spatula. Nirvana was your favorite, you idolized Kurt Cobain. He knew more about the beef between him and Guns “N Roses or Nirvana and Pearl Jam than he ever thought he would; he didn’t even know who Nirvana or Pearl Jam were before you, honestly. He loved hearing your passion, even if it was all so new to him, an he loved when you showed him new songs, but nothing got your mouth going like Nirvana did; the absolute excited way you talked about their music made your eyes light up and you’d bounce in your seat, joyful and enthusiastic, a love for life Joel admired.

He loved how someone who’d been through so much could be so… happy. It gave him hope. From life as a depressed, addicted “gay man” couch surfing and sometimes homeless, to a school teacher, happy and loving and stable as a woman. Before you, he only vaguely knew what being trans was. No one really talked about it except occasionally some article or an episode of TV. Joel didn’t think much about it, but he knew what others thought. Many said it was a sin, or unnatural, or that it was body mutilation… Some said things like they would regret it, that it was a mental illness… Joel didn’t know much about mental illness, if he was being honest. He knew it was considered a mental illness by the big book psychiatrists use… but he always knew until the 70’s being gay was considered one too, and Joel didn’t think Tess, Bill and Frank were mentally ill. Well, Bill was a conspiracy theorist and a little cooky at times, but his head was on straight. Joel didn’t really care what anyone said. You were living and looking the way you wanted to save your life, and Joel was glad you were alive, even if you weren't a part of his world.

After serving up his girls, a heaping serving for Ellie to make up for what she’s not getting at ‘home’, Joel leaned against the counter, spooning the left over right into his mouth. One less dish to clean. He liked Ellie, he thought as he ate, even if she was a bit of a pain in the ass. She was spirited in a way Sarah wasn’t, but a good kid. She also liked baseball, and would watch with him sometimes before Sarah dragged her away.

He heard the doorbell, and Sarah ran up shouting “I’ll get it!!!” and as Joel walked over to the door still chewing a big mouthful of spaghetti, she informed him it was Aunt Tess.

“Hey Tess,” Joel swallowed his food, “Sorry, I can’t have anyone other than Tommy over, Ellie’s over for a playdate.”

Tess didn’t look like herself, sollem and worried face mareing her expressions. “Joel… something happened with Blue…”

His heart dropped. “Is it the Kurt Cobain thing? Is she okay? I know thats probably really upset-”

She cut him off, hand raised but not rudely. “No, Joel I- jesus… Tommy say anything to you?”

Joel furrowed his brow. What did he do now? “No… he get into trouble again?”

“No… he was pretty out of it the other night but… him and me with with Max. Joel, I swear, he said he dumped Kayla.”

Taking a deep breath, Joel cringed at her name. “Y’all can do whatever you want, it’s none of my business.” But it still hurt, just a little, even if it was irrational.

Tess scrubbed her face. “Joel, it’s bad, it’s so bad. Tommy got drunk, and he started talk’n, and you know how he gets… well Max was talkn ‘bout Kayla and her beef with Blue and I swear, no one was talk’n bad about her, Tommy was say’n how much he likes her, and I don’t even know how it came out but Tommy mentioned her being trans-”

“Shit- To Max? Tess, you know how he is!” Joel turned into the house, bellowing. “TOMMY!”

“I know! I know, okay but listen…” She shifted her feet. “I guess he wasn’t done with Kayla…” Tess’s face looked wracked with guilt, biting her lip and struggling to get out the story.

It was bad.

Joel dropped Ellie off with her foster mom, sending her with some fruit snacks. Not trusting Tommy with Sarah alone yet, Joel left her with Tommy and Tess; Talia answered Blue’s door.

“Joel.” She sighed, leaning against the doorframe. “This isn’t a good time. You know I love yuh, but she don’t need this right now.”

Joel shuffled, placing his hands in his pockets. “I’m- fuck, I’m sorry I just… I wanted to check on ‘er…”

Talia’s face softens, her body language relaxing. “I know… and I’m sorry. Maybe come by in a few days, I’ll let her know you stopped by, but she said she didn’t wanna see anyone-”

“Talia? Is that Joel?”

Signing at the voice of her best friend, she turned around. “Yeah babe, I told him to come by in a day or two.”

The sound of you sitting up made his heart leap. The idea of seeing you after months was exciting and nerve racking.

Acquiescing, Talia opened the door to your apartment where Joel saw you. You were still in your PJ’s, hair a mess, your eyes bloodshot and puffy. You were still the prettiest woman he’d ever seen in his life.

“Hey.” Nirvana played in the background. Something in the Way.

“Hey…” You lip quivers, and Joel runs over to you with no hesitation, scooping you into his strong, farm-worked arms and keeping you close to him as you cried. Your body wracks in heaves and sobs, and Joel knew something was very wrong, his heart aching for you, hoping so badly you were going to be okay. He never wanted to stop hugging you. When you’re crying slowed, Joel still held your body. Talia offered to go get some food, trusting Joel to watch you while she was gone and giving you both time to talk. When you finally lifted your head off his soft flannel, Joel guided you to sit on the couch.

“I’ve missed you so much…” You sniffled, not looking at him. “As soon as I heard about Kurt Cobain, I just wanted to call you…”

“You could’ve…” He reassured you. “I know how much he meant to you… I don’t want you to have to go through things alone, Blue…”

You shake your head. “I don’t. I got Talia, I always got Talia… and Tess and Tommy…”

Joel didn’t know Tommy was hanging out with you. “I know… I just…” He sighs. “I still wanna be there for you, you know? And with what happened…”

You groan, flopping back on the couch dramatically. “I can’t fucking beleive it. Years, i was here for years completely fine! Then this shit happens!”

“I’m sorry-”

“Joel, don’t-”

“But I am! I’m sorry, this is because of me.”

“No, this is because Kayla is a bitch. Sorry Joel, I know you don’t like us talk’n bad about her but she is!”

His voice was soft and gentle. “I think you earned the right to call her that, Blue.”

He hears you huff a sardonic laugh. “So have you.” You scrub your face. “Three years with this school, not so much as a talking to, no bad performance reviews… Not even a parent complaint.” You pop your head up. “Parents will complain about everything! But not me!” Back down. “All down the drain.”

Apparently, Max wasn’t done with Kayla. This didn’t surprise Joel; Kayla wanted Max to get to him, and Max was stupid. Of course he was still cheating with her. Kayla was, obviously, beautiful. That’s just a fact. After finding out Blue was trans, he scampered off to Kayla like a little rat and told her. Kayla, in turn, outted Blue to the entire school.

“Can’t you sue for wrongful termination? I mean, they can’t fire you for being trans.”

“Nope” You popped the P. “But they fired me on grounds of poor work performance which is bullshit. Texas is a will to work state, which means they can basically fire me for anything except being a protected class, so they just make something up. Texs has ass workers rights, I don’t got a leg to stand on.” He watched as your eyes welled up with tears. “Parents who always said their children adored me complained I was a predator and was grooming their children… One called me a satanist, which is wild.”

Joel chuckled a little at that, but only because you had a smile at the corner of your mouth. “I’m sorry this is happening, Blue… you’re a great teacher and they are fucking missing out.”

“I know, thank you. Being good right won’t pay my bills, though.” You’d be moving in with Tess, Talia, and Tommy, making for a full house. Joel wanted to bring Tommy home, he really fucking did… Tess and Talia woud have a full house once Blue was there, Sarah missed him… and fuck, Joel missed him. A lot. But Tommy refused to get help, and although he said he was clean, he’d said it before. He couldn’t risk Sarah’s safety like that. Honestly, he wasn’t sure Tommy even wanted to come back with the way Joel had talked to him sometimes.

You rested your feet on his blue jeans. “I’m glad you’re here, cowboy.”

Joel just can't stay away.

Two chapters left! One more seeing how things come back together for Joel, Blue, Sarah, Ellie, Tess and Talia

then, the finally where everyone is happy for the finale of pride event!!!!

I went to pride today (before and after being The Bikeriders AGAIN)

Before, I cried a little a free mom hugs

then i cried at The Bikerriders

then!! After bikeriders I went back to check out everything fully with more time and ended up breaking down sobbing at the free mom/dad hugs tent. It was so much a lady from anothr tent hugged me too ;-;

i love my mom but she'd never fully accept me.

Anyway, love y'all!!!! You are loved just the way you are! You are sacred!

How to keep up with the series:

Follow About a girl series on tumblr

follow @romana-updates and turn on notifications

Ask to be tagged!

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @ashleyfilm @bumblepony @snnyc @casa-boiardi @del-ightfulling @joelsoftie @valoxwayward @axshadows @qveerthe0ry @guelyury @copperhalfcent @perotovar

30 notes · View notes

bettyfrommars · 1 year ago

Text

hi loves

a wee announcement/bit of reflection below the cut

nothing heavy, just some thoughts & updates

First of all, I want to say I love this fandom so much. Truly I do. It has carried me though possibly the hardest, loneliest year of my life (and this ol' girl has been though some dark times). I've made friendships here that I hope to cherish for the rest of my life.

I came into fanfiction in October of last year, after not writing anything substantial for almost a decade. My dear friend at the time said she was looking for a specific Eddie Munson story, so I wrote it for her. I wrote it in first person because I didn't even understand how "reader perspective" was a thing, that's how wet behind the ears I was to this world. My friend, on the other hand, is a well-versed fic reader, and I distinctly remember messaging her like, "okay, what the hell is a Y/N??"

I spent that entire dark, cold winter writing and passing it to her in parts like notes in a classroom. The rush of getting back to something I loved so deeply after so much time away turned me into a monster. I lived and breathed that story. We sent endless messages back and forth every day about what each character would do next, imagining ourselves in that world, with Eddie. We made playlists, we cried. We screamed and giggled and kicked our feet when they finally kissed. We mourned the loss when it ended and moped around a bit before going back to read it all over again. Some 40k words and four months later I realized, holy shit, I think I write fanfiction now?

In a way, fanfiction saved my life. It brought me back to a part of myself I had buried, a part of me that worried it might never see the light of day again. It came crawling out of the ground, gasping for air like, "you better stretch your fingers bitch because I have a lot to say."

In April, I started posting here when the fandom was notably beginning to wane, but I was happy to see there were so many still going hard for our man. I kinda creeped in, like a little scuttling crab, and was grateful to find that a handful of you embraced me.

Long story short, I am NOT leaving, not at all. I know the tone is there, but that is not what this is, lmao. I will hopefully keep this blog for as long as you will have me. I plan to finish writing I'm on Fire and Death Becomes Us, as well as maybe another bit for gargoyle!Eddie, and nightmare!Eddie, but the other series I've started (or planned to start) will stay on hiatus for a while, possibly forever. I will continue to post blurbs and hc's and whatnot, but I won't be committing to any new series or long fics.

My masterlists will remain intact for the time being for those who want to enjoy what is there. That being said, The Nightmare Factory and Stop the World and Melt with You, might be taken down in the future only because I plan to re-work them into original stories. I have a second non-fandom blog in the works that is dedicated to monsters, nightmares, and magic realism, and I will let those who are interested know about it when the time comes.

Mostly, I wanted to let you know that, even if you notice some changes, I will continue to persist with "My 2 Joe's" delulu era, possibly until the earth swallows me up. I am no longer taking requests, but my asks will always be open for thots, blurbs, obsessions, etc. You know how much I love hearing from you.

That's all really. Perhaps this is simply one of those "end of year" thought dumps, but I also wanted to say a heartfelt Thank You to those who continue to support me, enjoy my work, and share it. My Ride or Die monsterfuckers and biker Eddie enthusiasts. My nightmare Eddie dreamers, my Twilight Zone Eddie pineapple heads. My gargoyle Eddie romantics who cheer on our Stone Boy, and my Hybrid Steve lovers who leave their windows open at night. My True Blood friends who appreciate a vampire Eddie who is nothing like Bill Compton. My darlings, my fellow rebel rousers and misfits, my friends.

This is a very symbiotic relationship, and I could not/would not do this without you ❤️

#Betty thoughts #delulu for life

80 notes · View notes

ivystoryweaver · 1 year ago

Text

EVENT CLOSED

My Masterlist

1000 Follower/Holiday Celebration Masterlist

THANK YOU for every single follow and interaction! Every single reply, comment and rb makes my heart explode! I'm a bit overdue for a 1k so I thought I would combine it with a ✨Holiday Celebration✨

There will be 2 parts to this party:

Celebration Part One✨

Based on this poll, 400 of you voted, and the Moon Dads/Hanukkah idea won.

However, the Miguel/Christmas idea was such a close second, I decided to make a holiday event. LET'S DO THEM ALL!

Here's the schedule for Nov. 26-Dec. 30: (I will try to post on Saturdays or Sundays)

UPDATE: They have titles now! Each one is a holiday song title

WEEK 1: 🫂💖 "Jingle Bells" - Santiago Garcia comfort/cheer-you-up ficlet (1000 words or less) for this busy, sometimes lonely time of year. Occurs during the holidays, but is not holiday-specific. Fun fact: Jingle Bells is actually a Thanksgiving song. Thanks to the moots who helped me pick Santi

WEEK 2: 🌙🕎 "Eight Nights (in December)"* Moon Knight System as dads/Hanukkah short story (3500-7500 words). Thanks for voting! This story is your winner! 🏆

WEEK 3: 🕷️🎄"(Everybody's Waitin' for) The Man With the Bag" Miguel O'Hara/Christmas one-shot (1000-3500 words)

WEEK 4: 🎅🏼🐶 “Fairytale of New York” 18+ Pathetic Puppy Llewyn Davis on Christmas Eve one-shot (1000-3500 words) ^ This occurs on Christmas Eve, but doesn't necessarily mean characters celebrate Christmas

WEEK 5: 💫🌳 "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year" Poe Dameron/Life Day ficlet (1000 words or less) coming Holiday 2024 *"Eight Nights" is a gorgeous Hanukkah song by Rosi Golan if you're not familiar

Celebration Part Two✨

And here's how you can get involved in the celebration:

I will be taking specific requests for the following characters. Please read this entire post before requesting:

Askbox

🌙Moon Knight - Marc Spector, Steven Grant and/or Jake Lockley 🕸️Across the Spiderverse - Miguel O'Hara 💫Star Wars - Poe Dameron 🤖Ex Machina - Nathan Bateman 💵Triple Frontier - Santiago Garcia 🎬Scenes From a Marriage - Jonathan Levy

There are a few other Oscar Isaac characters I might attempt, if asked.

— rules: • must be following me & must be 18+ • No request limit at this time, but let me know your top priority request if you have more than one. • requests don't have to be holiday based, but they can be!

Pick a character (above) and request:

1.🖼️- a moodboard - you can tell me the scenario or vibe, or I can pick for you! Telling me a little about yourself will help 2. 🦸🏽- a character blurb from one of my stories My Masterlist 3. 🤔- headcanons for blorbos. Requests for stories/ficlets/one shots, etc. are not open for this event

Ideas below if you need them:

here - romantic confession dialogue prompts here - married life prompts here - tender prompts here - affectionate prompts here - protective prompts here - variety prompts: angst, fluff, smut, bittersweet

4. 🎮 - games - "Would You Rather?" or "FMK" (I'll probably answer you with kiss rather than kill) 5. 📚- fic recs - Recommend a fic for me to read - can be yours or someone else's, OR ask me for recommendations because I've been reading for FOREVER and I have some writer moots who are rad af 6. ❓- questions about me, my stories or anything at all 7. 📸- send me your favorite pic or thoughts about your blorbo 8. 🤍- get-to-know-you questions here or Top 3's here - ask me to get to know me, I'll answer and ask you one back! 9. ➡️⬅️- follow backs - I need more blogs to follow. Tell me why I should follow you. What are you into?

1000 Follower/Holiday Celebration Masterlist

My Masterlist

Askbox

80 notes · View notes

etherealcheol-mp3 · 1 year ago

Text

White Carnations, Red Roses (and other perfumed words I hide behind) [TEASER]

Pairing: Seungcheol x reader (ft other svt members)

Genre/warnings: fluff, humor, sorta enemies to lovers, misunderstandings, flower shop owner!Y/N, landord!Seungcheol, tags will be updated later on when the actual fic is completed

Word count: TBD

Summary: You were just starting to foolishly believe that your move to a new city wasn't as bad as people had told you it would be. You had your best friend as your roommate, your new flower shop was running relatively smoothly after the grand opening, and everyone you had met so far had been nothing but kind to you. And then you met Choi Seungcheol.

A/N: i hate writing summaries oh god i promise this fic won't be as bad at the summary makes it sound...anyway !! hi ! new fic on this blog that i haven't really touched in a l o n g time. hopefully, i don't give up on this fic and get back to writing like before but these are just simply baby steps for me so we'll see how this goes. please let me know what you think and if you'd be interested in reading this fic because i could use the motivation lmao. other than that, thank you for reading this and cheers to new beginnings !!

Perfumed Words (floriography) - "Once a form of clandestine communication, the language of flowers was a silent dialogue — an unspoken way to converse with friends, lovers..."

Flowers are said to represent many different things. On a basic level, they can express love, happiness, gratitude, condolences, congratulations, well wishes, and more. To those who look a little deeper, each flower has its own unique meaning and representation. It’s these more intricate meanings that make owning a flower shop so fun to Y/N. People will come in every day searching for flowers to fit a multitude of occasions and only deem the ‘prettiest’ ones worthy of their money, not at all aware that the bouquet they just purchased for an anniversary is full of flowers that represent rejection, foolishness, and ill-nature. Of course, there are the people that want to hear all about flower meanings and how to best express their desired message, but after moving to a bigger, more urban city in order to expand the once small flower shop owned in your hometown, the amount of patience customers seemed to have to hear about the symbolism of the flowers they picked had greatly lessened.

You grunted softly, dropping the large bag of potting soil on the ground. The new shop had only been open for about two weeks but there was still a desperate need for organization in the back areas, hidden from the view of customers. “That was all of them right?” Chan asks as he pants lightly, leaning his side against the wall of the storage room. Chan was one of your only part-timers and a lifelong best friend. Growing up next door to one another in a neighborhood full of teenagers and newborns almost guaranteed a solid friendship as you were the only two kids around the same age who also went to the same school. Chan had helped you learn to ride a bike and you had cried while playing hide and seek one time since it had been close to an hour and you hadn’t found him. As you got older, you stayed close and Chan was one of the biggest supporters in your life when you decided you wanted to open your own flower shop.

You laughed breathily at the boy next to you who was now dramatically trying to check his pulse. You push his shoulder gently as you move to walk back out to the front of the store. “I bet you regret saying you would go to university in the city now, huh?” Chan snorts at that, wrapping his arms tightly around you from behind to trap you in a bone-crushing hug, rubbing the side of his face against yours for good measure. You try to escape but he only holds you tighter, earning a loud groan from you, “Why would I regret moving with my bestest friend in the world? School has nothing to do with my undying loyalty to you,” You can’t help but laugh at that, finally freeing yourself from his arms and turning to face him. “Cut the shit, Lee Chan, we both know you’re only here because I have an extra bedroom in my apartment and could give you a job.” His shit-eating grin doesn’t falter as he extends his arms out for another hug, “Exactly what I said! Undying loyalty!”

You roll your eyes but can’t hide the smile on your face. “Yeah, yeah. Why don’t you show me that undying loyalty of yours by watering the plants in the greenhouse for me,” You smile sweetly while pushing a water spritzer into his chest. The way the smile on his face drops at your words makes you laugh lightly. He grumbles a bit but grabs the tools he needed and heads to the back door, raising his middle finger without turning back as you call out a sweet ‘Thank you!’. Chan was younger than you by a few years and the time for him to start university just so happened to overlay the time you decided to move the location of your shop for a much-needed expansion. You were lucky the area you settled on wasn’t too far from where you currently lived and Chan was even luckier that his dream school wasn’t far either. The small commercial strip you found with a space for rent seemed too good to be true at first. The area was popular and well developed with a large variety of stores surrounding yours. So far all the owners you had met were friendly and welcoming too.

You were almost immediately invited to game night by the owner of the coin karaoke, Soonyoung, who was two shops down from yours, and the manager of his place, Seokmin, looked as if he would cry if you declined the offer. When you agreed and met up with them later that night you met the co-owners of the souvenir shop across the street, Jeonghan, and Joshua, and Chan hit it off with the part-timer of the record shop who everyone called Vernon. The two found out they were both attending the same university in the upcoming semester starting in just a few weeks and you felt relief that Chan wouldn’t be completely on his own.

Everyone seemed to get along with one another and you were excited to slowly start joining the group for future get-togethers. The one person you couldn’t seem to get a clear read on was the landlord and property owner of the shops. You had met briefly twice: when you expressed interest in the vacant lot and when you signed your lease. Seungcheol was his name, and he always seemed to be in a rush whenever you met him, always leaving as quickly as possible with a tight smile and tired eyes. He was around the same age as you and the other shop owners and you assumed for a guy in charge of so many tenants he was just understandably busy.

You were mindlessly sweeping behind the check-out counter in the front of your store when the small chime of the bell above the front door drew your attention. You called out over your shoulder without fully turning to face the person, “Hi, I’m sorry but we’re closed for the day,” resting the broom against the wall, you brushed your hands off on your green apron and turned around to give the person your full attention. “I can’t even come in to see how you’re settling in?” The question catches you off guard, as does the presence of Seungcheol lightly stroking the petal of one of the white carnations on display. He looks up at you after a bit, cocking his brow slightly with a warm smile. He looks relaxed today, not as rushed and fidgety as your prior encounters, and the tan short-sleeved shirt he’s wearing hugs his previously hidden biceps wonderfully.

You blink once, then twice before you let out a soft, “Oh.” Seungcheol moves his hand from the delicate petals and crosses his arms over his chest while turning to face you fully. “I didn’t know you’d uh, didn’t know you would stop by…today,” You don’t know why you feel so nervous under the man's gaze but the light chuckle that leaves him makes you feel weak in the knees. He begins to walk up to the counter you’re still standing behind and you feel your eyes widen slightly. “I like to surprise my tenants every once in a while. Make sure they’re getting their money’s worth from their rent.” You nod slightly at that, looking down at the counter between the two of you to avoid his gaze. “Oh, yeah. That makes sense, I mean you-” he cuts you off with a gentle yet firm tone. “I also make sure they’re following the rules. They’re very strict here.”

Your head snaps up to meet his. His face looks serious and you can’t help but furrow your brows at his words. “Rules?’ You question quietly. He nods and his face holds the same serious expression as before. “This is a strictly business-only zone during operating hours. We can all be friends and whatever else when stores are closed but outside of that it’s rivalry and competition only.” You tilt your head in utter confusion and let out a “What?” that ends up being the loudest and most stable word you’ve spoken to him so far. The corner of his lips twitches just slightly upwards at that before he continues. “Every month rent is due, this isn’t news,” You narrow your eyes as he speaks, unsure if you’re going to like where this goes, “However, the shop with the highest sales for the month gets a benefit.” You raise an eyebrow at his vague explanation and cross your arms over your chest. “What does that have to do with rent, or being friendly with one another during business hours?”

Seungcheol sighs with a shake of his head, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans before meeting your eyes with a look of amusement. “Let’s just say the benefit is good enough that some good old-fashioned business rivalry and...sabotage, I guess you could say, is perfectly normal. If you don’t want to see your little flowers cut up or your water supply blocked then I would suggest you stick to the rules.” You let out a scoff of disbelief as he finishes. “I find it really hard to believe any of the people I’ve met so far would do anything like that, and I also find it insane that you would even allow it if it ever did.”

Seungcheol smiles at your words, enjoying the anger he can see beginning to grow. He leans over the counter slightly to get even closer to you before he speaks lowly, “You don’t know me or anyone else here like you might think you do. I really hope you’ll be able to last long enough to do that, but from what I see, you and your little flowers won’t make it to Christmas. It’s not like your sales would help you anyway.” You glare at him and clench your jaw at his words. You’re stuck in a trance of anger and disbelief and don’t even realize he’s walked away and out the front door until you hear the light chime from the bell once again. You’re unable to move as you replay the scene again and again in your head, only being brought back by Chan dramatically exclaiming his relief at once again being in a building with air conditioning. He sees your rigid stance and feels his eyes widen at the expression on your face.

“Y/N…are you good?” He asks hesitantly, unsure of what he missed while he was out. “I’m good,” you let out a deep breath as you meet his eyes, “I just need to go pick up a few things.” Chan looks confused as you walk past him to the back office space and grab your things, ready to leave. “What things?” He asks, following behind you and quickly ridding himself of his matching green apron as you quickly walk to the front door, flipping the open sign to display ‘Closed’. “Just some things to help me prove an asshole wrong,” You speak casually with a smile that Chan recognizes all too well. “Shaving cream or duct tape?” He asks in slight fear of the answer, letting out a sigh of disdain at the answer. “Lemons.”

“Oh fuck.”

#csc.mp3 #toro writes #seventeen #svt fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #scoups fluff #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #svt x reader #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #scoups #seungcheol

72 notes · View notes

flightlessangelwings · 2 years ago

Text

Not Leaving You Again

Santiago Garcia x fem!reader x Frankie Morales Word count- 4.8k Dialogue prompt- “ are you okay? “ Action prompt- [ YANK ]: seeing the receiver is in immediate danger, the sender hastily grabs them and pulls them against them, out of harm’s way Warnings-s.mut (18+ only!), bi mmf threesome, lots of pining, childhood friends to lovers, feelings, protective Santi and Frankie, assault attempt but it’s interrupted, reader is a bartender and works in a bikini bar but no physical descriptions given, reader has the nickname “Chiquita” given to her by Santi, no use of y/n Notes- Written for my Year of Protectiveness (@yearofcreation2023), and it was supposed to be posted in April so let's just ignore the fact that this one is late lol! This actually went through many changes before I settled on this version and I'm happy to have done something a little different! Also, if you’re wondering how I came up with the nickname Chiquita: I was eating a banana while brainstorming this and I thought that was a cute nickname lol! Enjoy! @flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so feel free to also follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post!

“Really Pope?” Frankie sounded exasperated, “A bikini bar?”

Santiago grinned mischievously, “Yes Fish, a fucking bikini bar,” he placed a hand on his best friend’s shoulder, “You’ve been moping about your breakup for too long, buddy.”

Frankie rolled his eyes, “I bet they all know you by name here, huh.”

“Actually,” Santiago let out a deep breath, “I’ve never been here before,” he couldn’t help but laugh at Frankie’s shocked face, “I was looking up places to take you to cheer you up and this place came up.”

“It’s a wonder you never heard about it before,” he let out a heavy sigh of his own, “But I appreciate this.”

“Hey… What are friends for, huh!” he playfully punched Frankie’s arm, “Now let’s get a smile on that face of yours.”

“Whatever you say, Pope.” Frankie sounded slightly annoyed, but truly he was grateful for his friend. It had been several months since his fiance left him, and he knew he had been down in the dumps about it, bringing the guys down with him. And while Santigao Garcia had a tendency of being an asshole at times, he was still his best friend and he knew he had his best interest in mind. So, Frankie indulged him.

But, when the two men entered the bar, both their breaths were taken away.

The bar was reasonably packed for the late afternoon, and every single woman who worked there was stunningly beautiful. Women in all ages, skin tones, sizes and backgrounds worked behind the bar making drinks and running to the tables to serve them. Santiago and Frankie stood in stunned silence for a moment before Santi nudged his friend.

“What did I tell you, Fish,” he sounded very pleased with himself, “Good drinks, beautiful bartenders… It’s just what you need.”

“They’re not pieces of meat, Pope,” Frankie huffed, “They’re just here to work.”

“Yes I know,” Santiago cleared his throat, “But it’s a bikini bar for a reason,” he nodded a quick hello to a waitress who sauntered by and gave him a wink, “Let’s just enjoy it.”

With another roll of his eyes, Frankie followed his friend to the bar where he ordered them both drinks. He watched as Santiago suavely flirted with the bartender, and was surprised that he actually flirted back. But then again, Santiago always had that effortless charm that made anyone swoon. Even Frankie himself found himself captivated by his friend’s hypnotic gaze at times.

“Cheers, Fish,” Santiago’s voice jolted Frankie from his thoughts, “To single life. May you find the perfect person for you.”

“Thanks,” Frankie mumbled as he cheered and took a sip. He had to admit, Santiago had a kindness and caring side to him that he kept buried under the facade. And although this wouldn’t have been his first choice of venue, he was grateful that Santiago dragged him out of his place. But, just as he was about to voice his thoughts, another voice cut in between the two of them.

“Santi?”

Stunned, the two men turned over their shoulder and were met by another captivating employee, dressed in only a bikini top and jean shorts. Santiago nearly spit out his drink as he breathed your name in a surprised tone.

“Santiago Garcia! I would know that voice anywhere!” you put down your tray to open your arms for a hug.

He exclaimed your name as he hopped off the barstool and embraced you tightly, “Dios mio it’s been… years!” he sighed as he leaned back to take in the sight of you, “You look even more beautiful than the last time I saw you.”

Frankie watched with a soft smile as two old friends reunited.

“It’s been too long,” you agreed as you looked him up and down, “I’ve missed you, Santi,” suddenly, you sounded sad.

Santiago cleared his throat and redirected your thoughts, “This is my good friend Francisco,” he gestured to Frankie, “Fish, this is Chiquita.”

“Pleasure. Call me Frankie,” he spoke softly as he took your hand in his. Frankie couldn’t help but notice how soft your hand was and how your face lit up when you smiled.

“Nice to meet you, Frankie,” you gave him your name once more before you turned back to Santiago, “Chiquita, huh?” you asked with a laugh, “No one’s called me that in… I can’t remember how long. How have you been?”

Frankie couldn’t help but notice the flash of melancholy in your eyes when you turned back to Santiago. He listened as the two of you caught up for a minute before someone from across the way called your name.

“I’ll be right there,” you replied over your shoulder before you turned back to them, “It was nice to see you, Santi,” you breathed, “And very nice to meet you, Frankie,” you paused for a beat, “Come back again sometime. Tuesdays are usually slower… We can catch up more.”

Santiago and Frankie exchanged a glance and a smirk. “I guess this will be our Tuesday spot then,” Santiago exclaimed, “See you then, Chiquita.”

Your smile lit up your face once more, “I’ll see you then!” you said before you disappeared into the crowd and went back to work.

Tuesday came before they knew it, and just like you promised, the bar was much quieter. The waitresses all greeted Santiago and Frankie when they walked in and they almost clamored to get the chance to wait on them. Among them was even the one that Santi flirted with the last time they were in, but this time, he only had eyes for one person.

“Hey guys!” you waved from behind the bar, “Take a seat. I’ll make you my specialty. On the house!”

“Thank you, “Frankie murmured as he watched you work. When you set the drinks down, he asked the first of many burning questions on his mind, “So… What’s the story behind ‘Chiquita’ anyway?”

Santiago nearly spit out his drink in an attempt to contain his laughter, and you couldn’t help but snort as well.

“When we were kids,” he started before you could recover from your laughing spell to speak, “She dressed up as the Chiquita banana girl three years in a row. I started calling her that as a joke but it just kinda stuck.”

“Oh I would have loved to see that,” Frankie joined in your laughter.

“Actually,” you cleared your throat, “Funny story… I actually did a bikini version of that for Halloween last year!”

“You’re joking!”

“Nope,” you winked, “Too bad you missed it.”

“Damn,” Santiago cursed under his breath.

Frankie’s disappointment mirrored his friends, but he hid it better. Instead, he redirected the conversation as you wiped down the bar, “So you two have known each other for a while then?”

“Yep,” you replied, “We were friends as kids… grew up together… I hadn’t heard from you in years though…” your tone turned sad again, and suddenly Frankie regretted asking. He hated seeing you like that, even if he barely knew you.

“Hey,” Frankie tried to redirect your thoughts, “We’re all here now, so why don’t we enjoy the drinks and the company?” He lifted his drink to cheers.

“Yeah!” Santiago lifted his drink as well, “To good friends and good drinks!”

“I’ll cheers to that,” you poured yourself a water and joined them, “To good friends, old and new!”

The three of you clinked your glasses together before downing them all. With that a new friendship was born and you couldn’t help the feelings that bubbled to the surface… for both men.

Before they knew it, going to the bikini bar became a regular thing for Frankie and Santi. They were in there multiple nights a week, to the point where everyone there knew them by name. Frankie even joked that he knew that would happen eventually, which Santiago shrugged off. But, neither man could deny the growing feelings for you they both harbored, and both of them knew about the other. It went unspoken, however, and neither of them made a move on you. Instead, they just enjoyed your company and watched over you on busy nights to make sure no drunk men tried to put his hands on you.

But, there was one burning question on Frankie’s mind. And after several weeks, he couldn’t keep it to himself any longer: “What happened between you and Chiquita?”

The momentarily joy at Frankie using that nickname for you as well didn’t last, and Santiago’s face dropped, “We drifted apart,” he answered dryly as he took a sip of his drink, “It happens when people grow up.”

Frankie’s face soured, “That’s not it,” he sounded annoyed, “I see the way she looks at you sometimes. Don’t tell me you hurt her…”

“No!” Santiago snapped, “No,” he repeated in a softer tone, “It’s just…” he sighed, “Shit happens, you know? Especially with guys like us.”

Frankie’s gaze stayed pointed at Santiago, but he chose not to push it any further. Instead, he looked around the bar and caught your eye. His heart fluttered in his chest when you looked up from what you were doing and gave him a big smile. Fuck, he was down bad for you, and he couldn’t do anything about it because he didn’t want to hurt his best friend or come between you two. So, Frankie chose to keep his heart guarded and locked away. If this was the most he was going to be with you, a friend and someone to watch over, Frankie made his peace with it.

But, Santiago broke the silence between them with an unexpected confession, “We hooked up once after I got back from my first deployment,” he stated plainly, as if he fought to keep his own emotions in check, “After that, I decided it was best that she never saw me again. I’m not the kind of man that’s good for her. She deserves better than me and my shit. So,” he sighed, “I left and never called her again.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Pope,” Frankie couldn’t hide the disappointment in his voice, “You really are a fucking asshole sometimes, you know that.”

“Yes, I fucking know!” Santiago snapped.

“So what stopped you?” Frankie sighed, “Normally you aren’t the ‘noble’ type.”

Santiago knew it wasn’t an insult. It was the truth. He rubbed his face in his hands, “Yeah,” he breathed, “I don’t know man. She’s just… Different.”

“Yeah…” Frankie’s voice sounded distant as he looked over at you again, “She’s something else…”

“You like her, don’t you?” Santiago asked, noticing the way Frankie looked at you.

“I… Uhh…” he stammered.

“It’s ok, man,” Santiago took a sip of his beer, “You’re a better man than I am. You’d take better care of her than I did.”

Frankie let out a heavy breath, “Thanks man,” he mumbled, “But I wouldn’t do that to you either. I see the way she looks at you.”

Neither man spoke for several long and tense moments. They sat in stillness as the bar hustled around them. For the first time in a long time, neither of them knew what to say to the other.

“Listen,” Santiago broke the silence, “Why don’t we let her decide? No hard feelings,” he sounded defeated already, which was very unlike him.

Frankie didn’t like it, but he decided to just let the topic go for now and agree, “Alright.”

“Hey,” your voice broke through their tension, “You boys alright?”

“Fine, Chiquita,” Santiago reached out for you, “Just talking.”

“It looked serious,” you glanced between them, “You sure everything’s ok?”

Frankie gave you a soft smile, “Everything’s fine.”

Neither Frankie nor Santiago spoke about that conversation again after that night. They carried on like it didn’t even happen, and surprisingly, they both were able to just spend time with you just like they did before. Their routine felt comfortable enough that it didn’t affect them, and neither man held a grudge about it. Besides, they both agreed that watching over you was more important than their childish squabble. Especially on nights like tonight.

It was crowded for a Monday night, and you barely had time to chat with your boys. If you were honest, you were almost disappointed, since you looked forward to the nights that Frankie and Santiago came in. True, it was hard for you at first to see Santi again after he ghosted you all those years ago, but when you realized that he’d grown since then and you liked the man he grew into, you forgave him. And his friend Frankie was beyond handsome and kind too.

There were nights you fantasized about Santiago. And then there were nights you fantasized about Frankie. But your favorite daydreams were when you had both men at the same time. You found yourself equally attracted to both of them, and you felt safe when you knew they were there, watching over you and chased drunk men away who threatened to get too touchy with you.

And you were especially grateful they were at the bar tonight.

Rowdy crowds of men spilled into the bar unexpectedly, and some of them made you and your coworkers nervous. You made your way over to the hightop table where Frankie and Santiago sat as often as you could.

“Busy night, Chiquita?” Santiago asked.

“It’s weird for a Monday,” you commented as you glanced between the two of them, “You guys doing alright?”

“We’re fine, sweetheart,” Frankie’s voice was velvety soft and it brought comfort to you.

Just as you were about to say something, one of the other waitresses yelped as he dropped a tray of drinks right in front of another table. “Shit,” you hissed before you turned to the guys, “Be right back. I’l going to go help her.”

They both nodded as they watched you hurry over to the new girl. She had just started two weeks ago, and she seemed very nervous. But, you were there to help her and you quickly rushed to her side and calmed her down, “Hey,” you breathed, “It’s ok. It’s just a spill. It happens.”

“Thank you,” she breathed your name as he looked at you with big pleading eyes.

From the far table, Frankie and Santiago watched as you bent over to help the other girl. And while they were captivated at the sight of you bent over while hardly wearing anything, a grumble from nearby caught their attention. One of the drunk men at the table next to where you were stumbled over with a sinister grin on his face and his hands reaching out.

Without a word, Santiago and Frankie looked at each other and knew exactly what the other was thinking.

In a flash, they rushed over to you, intercepting the drunk man before he could put his hands on you. The two men worked together in tandem; Frankie grabbed you and yanked you against him, wrapping his arms around you while Santiago pushed the drunk man away from you and the other waitress.

“Back off, asshole!” Santiago shouted at him.

You gasped as suddenly you found yourself in Frankie’s arms and Santiago’s body stood in front of you, blocking you from the threat you didn’t even know was there.

“Frankie?”

“It’s ok, baby,” he whispered to you, “We’ve got you.”

You let out a deep breath as you and Frankie watched Santiago push the drunk man once more, “Get the fuck out!”

“Hey,” the drunk man slurred, “I didn’t mean no harm… I just,” he hiccuped, “Wanted a little squeeze.” His glazed over eyes landed on you.

A shiver ran up your spine at the way he looked at you.

“Not on my watch,” Santiago growled before he punched the guy right in the face, knocking him down to the ground.

“Don’t look,” Frankie turned you around so that his body blocked your view and you were turned away from Santiago and the drunk man.

All you could hear was a scuffle and shouting as others joined in and pushed the drunk man out of the bar. All the while, Frankie whispered soft nothing to you to keep you calm. And you heard him repeat over and over again, “You’re ok, baby. We ain’t gonna let anything happen to you.”

The commotion calmed down as quickly as it started and suddenly Santiago was in front of you, “Chiquita!” he huffed as you looked up at him from Frankie’s grasp, “Are you ok?”

You looked between Santiago and Frankie, stunned at the way he rushed to your aid so fast, “I’m fine,” you breathed, “Thank you… Thank you both.”

Time was a blur for you after that, and all you were aware of was that neither Sntiago nor Frankie left your side for a moment. And one of them had his hand on you at all times, as if they were both afraid that something else would happen if they strayed too far. Vaguely, you heard them speaking with your coworkers to make sure the other girls were alright before they relayed what happened to your boss.

“Baby?” Frankie’s voice broke you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah?” you blinked your eyes as if you had to refocus on the present moment.

“We’re gonna take you home, alright?”

“B-but…” you stammered, unsure of if that was what you really wanted.

“Don’t worry, Chiquita,” Santi appeared on the other side of you, the two of them forming a protective barrier around you, “I talked to your boss, everything’s cool. Let us take care of you.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as your hands trembled for an entirely different reason, “Ok…”

The ride home was quiet save for your directions. Frankie took his truck while Santi followed behind in your car so you wouldn’t have to worry about it later. A hundred thoughts ran through your mind as you noticed that Frankie glanced over at you as much as he could.

“Watch the road, Fish,” you teased to break the tension inside the car.

He let out a short laugh, “Yes ma’am.”

Thankfully, the drive wasn’t too much longer and Frankie and Santi pulled into your place and escorted you inside. It felt a little strange, as if they were your bodyguards, but at the same time you had never felt safer.

“Well,” you breathed as you gestured around, “This is it. This is my place.”

“It’s nice,” Frankie mumbled, trying to keep his expression level.

You stood in front of Frankie and Santiago as you fiddled your fingers. “Thank you,” you broke the silence, “By the way… Thanks for lookin’ after me back at the bar.”

Frankie’s eyes softened, “You don’t have to thank us for that, baby.”

The way Frankie called you that pet name made your heart flutter in your chest. You always liked it when he called you that, and the way he said it always made your skin tingle. You glanced between him and Santi as the fantasies you had popped into your head. Santiago hadn’t said much since you got into your place, and all he did was nod at you. Something was up with him, you just weren’t sure what, but you still felt the tension radiate off of him.

As he watched your face, Santiago couldn’t stand the tension anymore and he broke the silence with a loud voice, “Ok, I’m just going to say it,” his emotions fueled his sudden outburst, “Listen,” he used your real name for once, “I know this isn’t fair of me to ask, but it’s driving me fucking crazy. And,” he let out a heavy sigh, “I just have to know… Which one of us would you choose?”

You blinked your eyes wide as your mouth dropped open, “W-what?”

“Santiago…” Frankie hissed.

“Chiquita, you gotta know we both are fucking crazy about you,” Santiago continued, ignoring his friend, “And I know I hurt you, baby. But I just gotta know so we can move on.”

You were silent as you looked between the two men. Your heart felt like it would burst from your chest at any minute as they both looked back at you like lost puppies. Slowly, you reached out and took Frankie’s hand in yours without a word.

Santiago spat, “Thought so,” he mumbled before he stepped past you to leave.

“Wait,” you grabbed his hand with your free one and held onto both of them tightly, “I…”

“What is it?” Frankie asked in a whisper as Santi looked back at the two of you with a surprised expression on his face.

“Do I have to pick between you two?” your voice shook, “Can…” you swallowed hard, “Can’t I have you both?”

Frankie and Stai’s eyes went wide as their gazes met. Frankie himself couldn’t deny the latent attraction he had for his friend. And Santiago’s eyes went up and down Frankie’s figure as a slight smirk lit up his face.

“I wouldn’t say no to that,” Santi quipped as he stepped closer towards the two of you.

“Neither would I,” Frankie grinned back as he wrapped his arms around both you and Santi.

Your face lit up as you looked between the two men, “Are we really doing this?” you asked in an excited whisper.

Santiago cupped your chin and kissed you deeply, “It looks like we fuckin’ are,” he murured before Frankie grabbed your chin and turned you toward him to give you an equally passionate kiss.

Left breathless, you just nodded towards your bedroom and the two men quickly led you down the hallway, stripping you and each other on the way. Even after the tense moments at the bar, everything melted away as the three of you shed your layers of clothing, and giggles erupted among the three of you as you made your way to your bed.

“Fuck…” Frankie breathed as he took in the sight of you and Santiago before him.

“Just as beautiful as I remember, Chiquita,” Santiago murmured as he glanced over at Frankie, “And shit man, you’re an impressive sight too,” he winked.

You couldn’t help the laugh you let out before Frankie said your name.

“How do you want us, baby?’

“Yeah, your call.”

It took no time to decide how you wanted them. Leaning over to Frankie, you gave him a light kiss, “I want you to fuck me,” you breathed before you leaned over to Santi and mirrored the kiss, “And I want you in my mouth.”

“Have you thought about this before?” Santi smirked.

“That’s my little secret,” you winked.

Both boys let out a short laugh before they got serious again. They caressed your body, memorizing every dip and curve of you as they positioned you between them. Your back stayed to Frankie as his hands reached your ass and gave it a firm squeeze. Both of them groaned when you let out a beautiful moan, and suddenly the desperation took over for all of you.

You held onto Santiago’s shoulders as you positioned yourself, parting your legs for Frankie. Immediately, he cupped your pussy and traced a finger along your clit. Your body trembled as you moaned even louder while you grabbed onto Santi’s cock and slowly pumped it.

“Shit…” Santi hissed as you wrapped your fingers around him and stroked him slowly as if you remembered every little move that drove him wild.

While you jerked off Santi, Frankie pushed two fingers inside you while he stroked himself. A string of curses from all of you echoed in the room as Frankie’s thick fingers pumped in and out of you in the same rhythm that you pumped Santi.

“Frankie,” you murmured, “I’m ready… Please fuck me.”

“Whatever you want, baby,” Frankie caressed your ass as he slowly pulled his fingers out of you and lined up his cock at your entrance.

You and Santi shared a look before you felt the tip of Frankie’s cock push past your entrance. Your mouth dropped open and you let out the most tantalizing moan either man had ever heard.

“Fuck,” Santi cursed as he watched you lower yourself onto your hands and knees.

As Frankie slowly pushed into you, you took Santi’s cock in your mouth, flicking the tip with your tongue a few times before you wrapped your lips around it and took him completely inside.

“Ay Dios…” Santi groaned as he felt your warmness around him.

“Fuck,” Frankie moaned as he buried himself completely inside you, “Fuck baby you feel so good.”

All you could do was moan around Santi’s cock as you felt yourself stuffed at both ends. Your mind swam in pleasure as Frankie reeled back and thrust forward again, and already you saw stars. Santi kept his hands on your shoulders to support you as Frankie held you hips and pounded into you faster. Unable to hold himself back, he rocked into you over and over again, already addicted to the feeling of your wet pussy around him.

Santiago looked up from where you gagged on his cock to meet Frankie’s eyes, and he felt a fresh wave of need pulse through him when he saw the look on his face. A shiver ran up his spine as Santi watched Frankie fuck you. Between the way his cock disappeared inside you over and over again paired with the carnal look on his face, Santi felt his climax build quickly.

“Fuck,” Santi growled as he grabbed your head and yanked you off his cock.

You let out a loud cry as drool dripped down your lips, “Santi? What?”

“I want to hear you, Chiquita,” Santi growled before he kissed you deeply, “Let us hear how beautiful you sound while Frankie fucks that pretty pussy of yours.”

“Oh fuck!” you screamed as the new angle drove Frankie’s cock deeper inside you, hitting your sweet spot with precision.

Santi’s arms wrapped around you and held you tightly, and you felt Frankie’s grip around both of you as well. Your wind swam in pleasure as Frankie pounded into you faster and all you could do was rest your head on Santi’s shoulder as he held you.

As you felt your own climax build, you grabbed Santi’s cock and pumped it in time with Frankie’s thrusts. You heard him hiss your name as both men growled and groaned on either side of you.

“Fuck… Frankie… I’m gonna cum…”

All Frankie could do was moan your name, his own climax right behind yours. He tightened his grip on your hips as he pounded into you with fervor until you let out a louder scream as you fell apart. Your body trembled in their arms as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you as you came on Frankie’s cock.

Your orgasm triggered Frankie’s and he looked into Santi’s eyes for a moment before he too let out a loud groan and came deep inside you.

Santi felt awe-stuck as he watched both of you hit your peeks. You both looked so beautiful, so sexy, that he almost forgot about his own pleasure for a moment. But, when Frankie’s hand covered your on his cock, Santi let out a gasp as the two of you pumped him together until he too came hard, spilling himself on your body.

Exhausted and spent, the three of you all collapsed down onto your bed, Frankie slipping out of you as you did so. For several moments, you, Frankie and Santi all just laid together in a tangle of limbs as you all caught your breaths. Your arms and legs laid out over your boys, and even as your heart pounded in your chest, you could also feel the same in both of them.

“That…” you broke the comfortable silence with a heavy breath, “What fucking amazing.”

Santi laughed, “Fuck yeah it was.”

“Perfect,” Frankie sighed as he shifted to make you all more comfortable. He gathered you in his arms and pulled you to lay on his chest before he reached out and grabbed Santi’s arm.

Santiago looked at him, confused as to what to do for a moment, before he settled down and let you rest in between them. His eyes trailed across your bodies as he couldn’t help but wonder how different things would have been had he not left the last time he slept with you. Would the two of you become a couple? Would you eventually have invited Frankie into your bed? Your relationship?

But more importantly, would Santi repeat his actions again?

“Hey Santi?” your voice broke him out of his thoughts as you looked over your shoulder, “You’re not gonna leave again? Are you?”

Santi’s eyes went wide as he glanced between you and Frankie, who gave him a stern look. After a beat, he softened, “No, baby,” he caressed your face and kissed you before he looked at Frankie, “I’m not leaving either of you,” his voice was soft as he leaned over and placed a soft kiss on Frankie’s lips as well.

Frankie smiled into the kiss before he leaned down and gave you one as well, “I ain’t leaving either, baby.”

Your skin tingled and warmed as you nuzzled yourself in between the two pairs of strong arms, “Good,” you murmured as you rest your head down, “Good.”

354 notes · View notes