#my precious but silly lil boi | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dreaisgrayte · 3 months

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I JUST BINGE READ ALL OF YOUR WORKS. YOU HAVE ME SCREAMING AND CRYING. The amount of detail that you put into them is MWAH the freakin chefs kiss 😘 you have been promoted to my #1, please never stop what you're doing ❤️❤️❤️

on another note, would you mind if I requested a scenario with Gojo? Maybe something about fem!y/n being from a high ranking rival clan, who the Gojo clan has despised for their entire existence. Maybe y/n has always had a crush on satoru ever since they first saw each other as kids, but since they were raised to hate each other it never went any further than a small lil crush. but now they're adults and both powerful sorcerers, her feelings kind of just pop back up out of nowhere and satoru finds it amusing how even after all this time and the things that their clans told them about each other that she would still have her little puppy crush on him. Maybe it could be like a she fell first and he fell harder scenario? i'm a slut for those oh my gosh

thank you so much!!!!

That's so so so sweet of you! Honestly, got me giggling and kicking my feet. Careful, I will propose, istg. This... turned into a monster while writing it. I came up with a silly little plan and a silly little idea to incorporate into your request and then this monstrosity was born. If I wasn't told to stop... I might've never stopped writing on this. I L O V E D this idea. Friends to lovers/1 fell first then the other fell harder I EAT UP EVERY TIME. So, here's what my whore brain wrote <3 love you and I hope you enjoy!

warnings: NSFW, MDNI, Gojo harasses the women he's actually into (he forgets how to flirt so just ends up bullying them), teasing, flirting, kissing, cowgirl, missionary, raw sex, a lot of touching, feelings...so many feelings

word count: 6.1k

The Crave | Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

“Are you sure they’ll be there? I don’t want their son to look at our precious daughter.” Your mother holds you closely to her legs, clicking her tongue in annoyance when the maid nods her head. “Unbelievable. You hear that? Do they think they can parade that freak of nature around Japan? Well, they’ll have to see our daughter as well. She’s got the normal amount of eyes and isn’t staring at everyone with those ugly blue ones.” Her tone is harsh and for a six-year-old you, it’s hard to understand why she’s so angry. You also doubted that the young boy had six eyes.

Your father walks into the room, straightening his tie with a stern look on his features. “As long as they keep him away from her, everything will be fine.”

But as you were brought into the party, still close to your mother – you saw nothing but a boy with snow white hair and brilliant blue eyes. Sure the way he glared at you was slightly off-putting, but he was just a boy. He was alone in the room, but everyone seemed to be talking about him. Even your mother shamed him behind a gloved hand.

Your heart aches. What did he do that warranted such disgust for simply being alive? The Gojo clan and your clan had been at odds since the very conception of both. They bred powerful sorcerors for fame, gain, and wealth. He was yet another product of selfish desire, born into a role and body he didn’t ask for. His life ahead would be filled with always the underline of being strong. Somehow; being uniquely gifted gave him the responsibility to be used like a tool. You knew your fate wasn’t far behind his.

Though, his eyes sparkled like he knew some deeply funny thing about the world. That – even though his destiny was surely to be used up by his clan – there were still things to be enjoyed in the world. It made your…stomach hurt. Both a swirling breeze of cool and a stifling wave of heat. Boiled and frozen, pumping whatever this feeling was straight into your tiny brain.

That was the first time you ever saw Satoru Gojo, and you’d soon come to realize around the age of 10 that you had developed an infatuation with him. Children surrounded you, chattering about how you and Satoru were going to get married when you were older. Of course, you blushed and stayed quiet – which in hindsight wasn’t the best idea since the gaggle of children went screaming at Satoru about how you wanted to marry him. A less-than-ideal situation because those sapphire eyes tracked you down amongst the crowd and 10-year-old Satoru smirked. You were utterly done for.

Thinking back on the encounters you’d had with Satoru Gojo, you were glad your family hated him. It gave you an excuse to hide behind that fact because still – in your 20s – his face would appear in the back of your mind. You’d heard things about the miraculous powerful sorcerer he’d become from your boss at the special unit for special grade sorcerors. Your mother called you about 30 times just today to remind you Satoru wasn’t the strongest, you were. The Gojo clan was sneaky, they didn’t care about anyone else except for their gain. Your parents had raised you to be wary of anything the Gojo clan did, one misstep, and suddenly you’d be shipped off to the States.

It was a mix inside your stomach. The Gojos were not to be trusted and you most definitely were not allowed to interact with their heir. So when your boss comes waltzing up to you with a wide smile on her face, you know that rule is about to be broken. “YN, I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Her laugh comes off rushed. Your boss knew about the tensions between the rivaling clans, working with special grade sorcerors required her to do so. Then why? Why the hell did she pass over a report with that stupid fucker’s face on it? “There’s a powerful curse roaming around Shibuya that needs the attention of,” she pauses, scrunching her face in thought.

You sigh, the annoyance in your body pooling in your joints. “Two extremely powerful sorcerors?” You offer, the fakest smile known to mankind presenting itself on your lips.

Nevertheless, she lights up and hits her fist on the flat of her palm. “Exactly! See, this is why we have you on the team!” She exclaims with a little too much vigor for your taste.

You watch her for a moment, noticing the way her long blue hair bounces around – almost like they were cheering you on as well. “Right…” You drag out the word, glancing at the file folder in your hand. “Why can’t Gojo handle it by himself then?” Her excitement seemingly drains from her face. You take note immediately. “Boss, how powerful is this damn thing?”

༘⋆✿

Meanwhile, Satoru had the same look on his face – annoyance. He understood having two special graders go on this mission would ultimately be the best option, but you? What sort of sick play of the fates was this? You were always so, he groans running a hand down his face, perfect. Your reputation, your battle tactics, hell even your coworkers thought you were the best. That’s insane. What kind of person even has all of their coworkers think the best of them?

He tosses your folder to the side of his desk, wanting to bang his forehead on the surface of the hardwood just to make sure he is seeing things clearly. The higher-ups were always comparing him to you, making sure he never fell behind in anything. Your clan was just a bunch of prissy stuck-up snobs… but then again… so was his.

It’s useless, he was stuck going on this mission with you because no matter how powerful he was, he would never have power over himself. He reaches for your folder again, flipping it open. Along with the neverending list of your accolades and magnificent achievements, was a picture of you paperclipped to the stack of paper. A few beats of silence pass as Satoru stares at your face.

After a few more minutes he grunts and shuts the folder again. He focuses on pulling the black cloth back over his eyes. The curse would be a piece of cake, especially with both of you on the mission. That’s not what he was worried about per se. The tricky part was how unbelievably pretty you had gotten to be and how there was a growing ache in the pit of his stomach. Fuck, this was going to be a shitshow. Then again, he couldn’t help but wonder – with a growing smirk on his face – if you still had that puppy dog crush on him.

༘⋆✿

“Yes, right this way ma’am.” A blonde man guides you toward Satoru’s office. He’s in an interesting outfit, not the usual sorcerer apparel. His tie is black and white forming an interesting pattern. His calm blue dress shirt is tucked into a pair of beige slacks. He’s very handsome and also looks very tired. Probably from dealing with all of Satoru’s bullshit if you had to guess.

He stops in front of a door and you almost don’t catch how his body deflates quickly with a tiny sigh before he’s back to normal. “Before I go in, please just call me YN.” Your body moves on its own, planting a hand on his rather muscular shoulder.

He attempts a smile, but it falters almost as soon as the corners of his mouth reach their peak. “Call me Nanami, Nanami Kento.” He extends a hand and you gratefully shake it. He seems nice. Then, he opens the door and leaning up against a desk is none other than Satoru.

Satoru is in uniform and you’ll be damned, he looks too good in it. How can someone that lanky pull off a baggy uniform? His fluffy white hair spikes out in a messy ‘I woke up looking this good’ way. Your heart – against every inch of your being, is thumping wildly in your chest. You should’ve double-checked his file to conclude he doesn’t have six ears. What if he can hear how erratic your pulse is? His azure gaze is locked in on the man beside you. “Thank you, Nanami,” Satoru smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. You hear a grunt beside you and then Nanami starts walking down the hall. You watch him leave, wishing he could’ve stayed longer. You hear a loud cough from inside the room. Furrowing your brows you turn your gaze to Satoru, who looks irritated. “I thought you came to spend time with me YN, yet here you are not even paying any attention to me.” He complains, standing up.

You press your lips into a thin line. “We’re not here for a playdate, we have business to do.” You reply with a lash of venom in your cool tone. Satoru glances off to the side with an airy laugh and smirk. What was he laughing about? You were growing more frustrated with every second.

“Mmm, playdates remind me of when we were children.” He’s still looking off to the side like he’s watching a memory play out that only he can see. His gaze is back to you in an instant. “You had a crush on me, remember?” He cocks his head to the side, a teasing grin taking over his stupidly handsome face.

Your body cools with a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance. Oh, so he wanted to bring up the past? You put on your best ‘fuck around a find out’ smile. “Yeah, but that was before puberty hit and I had standards.” You answer the tone of your voice higher and sweeter than before. Satoru raises his brows as an amused expression takes over his face. “Shall we get to business now?” You snap, which only makes him burst out laughing.

Satoru is walking toward you now and the alarm bells in your head start flashing. “Hey, before that I have a question I’ve been dying to know.” He leans down, planting a hand on the wall next to your head to be level with you. You stiffen, growing uncomfortable. Not with Satoru being this close, but with how much your body seems to enjoy it.

Your brows knit together and a frown tugs your face downward. “What?” You fume, jerking your head to emphasize the word. Satoru observes you, that feeling in his stomach clawing its way up. His gaze falls to your lips for the slightest of seconds.

He swallows, the vexing emotion wanted to be near you, beside you, touching you, in you. How troublesome. The only way for Satoru to get rid of this feeling was to somehow annoy you to the extent you never came around him again. Granted – you didn’t anyway, but this exception had nearly driven him to the edge already. “When you were little, did you ever create an illusion of me? Did you hold his hand? Practice kissing him?” Satoru inquires, feeling full of himself. Your whole face drops. You must be in a different world because he did not just ask you that. A garbled scoff sounds from your throat as you gape at him, utterly dumbfounded.

You try to process what the hell is going on by opening and closing your mouth, raising your hands then dropping them again, and blinking rapidly. “Oh my God,” are the first words that you say. They’re also the next few thousand words you say considering how many times you repeat the phrase.

By this time Satoru has dropped his arm, regarding you with a rueful grin. He’s backed away a few paces and you finally point a finger at him. “You are disgusting. You mean nothing to me. You’re such an annoying,” You’re panting, anger rolling through you in cold and hot waves. “An annoying.”

“What YN? An annoying what?” Your eyes are going to bulge out of your head. He’s smirking again! Smirking!

“An annoying fuckface!” You scream, throwing your hands out in pure frustration. You groan exasperatedly before storming out of his office.

༘⋆✿

Had you really called him a fuckface? What did that even mean? Satoru is staring at the ceiling of his city-rise apartment, unbelievably shell-shocked from the events earlier today. He flips over on his side. It hadn’t gone exactly like he planned, although he didn’t put much planning into the whole thing. Tomorrow morning you’d both meet up at Shibuya station to track down the cursed spirit. He should probably apologize for acting like an idiot…he groans and flips back onto his back.

Morning comes like a weight of bricks. You’re both standing awkwardly in the station. The people passing by must sense something because none of them even look your way. Satoru points to the stairs leading to the street level. “Uh, we could always patrol the rooftops…” He’s being so awkward. It was honestly a hit to his ego. Usually, the ladies ate up his tease em’ and leave em’ tactic. As he stares at you a blood-curdling scream echoes from the street above. Dust shakes off of the parts of the station as a loud explosion shakes the ground.

You glance at Satoru and he nods his head, a knowing smile creeping up his face. Finally, some fighting to get his mind off of whatever asshole thing he’d manage to say to you next. As you both reach the street ahead you’re met with chaos. Cars are being flung by a large lizard entity, but it has eyes everywhere on its body. Satoru is about to gauge an attack but you burst out laughing next to him. His footing stutters, eyes widening as he takes in your genuine laugh. It’s… kind of majestic. You hug your stomach, doubling over in laughter as you extend your hand to point at the cursed spirit. “Looks like,” you snort out a giggle, “Looks like you have some competition for having the most eyes.”

Gojo is immediately taken aback by your words. A woman runs screaming past you as you wipe a tear away from your eye. “Now let me show you a thing or two.” You sprint toward where rubble and wreckage cause obstacles. You make light work of climbing atop a sizeable pile of rebar and pavement. “Hey, lizard breath! Over here!” Jumping up and down, you wave your arms in the air. Did Satoru have to do anything? You seem to know what to do.

He watches you with a small chuckle as the monstrosity turns its bulbous eyes toward you. In the blink of its mucusy eyes, your image doubles. Thousands of you spread across the street, then start attacking the main body. Satoru grins, jumping in to join. “Think you could have all the fun without me?!” He yells toward you.

You’re surprised he could easily see which one of you was the real one. Though, you guess that’s what all those eyes were for. You were working off of one another – working with each other. If your clans could see you now. You’re both laughing and fighting like taking a walk in the park. Surprisingly Satoru can’t keep his eyes off you. He wasn’t sure if it was because he wanted to protect you or simply because as you fought alongside him you proved you didn’t need his protection. When you were with him you didn’t rely on him. No, you could handle yourself, which made Satoru crave your attention. He was the strongest…but with you by his side, his strength would finally be supported rather than taken for granted.

It doesn’t take long to deal with the cursed spirit and for once Satoru is glad you’re required to come back as a team to fill out paperwork. That way he could get a little extra time with you. He smirks to himself as you finish up in Shibuya.

He likes the look of you in his office, sitting on the couch in the corner with a small table in front of you. A laptop, a stack of papers, and a cup of tea are all somehow set on top of the small space. Your hair is falling in front of your face as you crouch over to type away the report. He was supposed to be working too, but he’d be damned if he broke his gaze now. “You ever going to stop looking at me and actually fill out some of those files Mr. Gojo?” You hum, still concentrating on the screen in front of you. Of course, you’d figure out he was gawking, it’s not like he was hiding it.

Satoru clears his throat and glances away. “You can call me Satoru,” He pouts. When was the last time Satoru had requested a woman call him by his given name? Out of everyone else’s mouth, it was a simple endearment, but out of yours? That was something else entirely.

You sigh, pausing in your efforts to finish the paperwork before dawn. You roll your lips into your mouth and tap your chin. “I think I much prefer fuckface.” You say, then smile sweetly.

Satoru nods his head, pushing out of his seat. “Yeah? You want to call me fuckface or you want to fuck my face?” He banters. Your body tenses as you watch him sit on the edge of his desk. There's a pressure building in between your thighs that you can’t ignore. Your body feels like there are phantom touches caressing all of the places you yearned for Satoru to touch.

You huff and turn away from him. “Back to this? Where’s your dignity, your charm, your manhood?” You ask. You jerk to the side, shaking your head. “No wait- that’s not exactly what I mean to say please don’t-”

Satoru is already laughing. “My manhood? Damn, you really must be thinking up all sorts of illusions in there, but,” he crosses the room, stopping in front of your table. He pushes the laptop shut with his fingertips. “The real thing is always going to be better darlin’.”

It suddenly seems very hard to swallow, so you let out an awkward laugh before gathering up your things. “Right, sure, I have to go.” You stumble over your words, rushing for the door. If you didn’t get out of this room right now you were sure bad things would happen. By bad things, you meant letting your guard down for a second around a man who was just flirting with you for the hell of it. You were a part of a rival clan, which meant he couldn’t have you. That also meant he wanted you more than the average woman. Of that, you could be certain, but you wouldn’t be some plaything Satoru could throw to the side once he’d had his fun.

Behind you Satoru’s face had fallen, his chest rising and falling quickly as you scurry out of his office. Good, now that the real threat had been dealt with, he had some paperwork to finish. You’d be safer away from him, not wrapped up in his clan dealings and always having to live for others. For once, Satoru wanted to be truthfully selfish – sure he would go out, drink, party, enjoy one or two ladies, but in the end he was left with himself again. Satoru couldn’t save himself and he was scared that the only one powerful enough to pull him out of this desperate cry for help…was you.

༘⋆✿

A couple of months pass by without hide or tail of Satoru. Working alongside him was honestly…freeing. You weren’t held back by the possibility of someone weaker getting hurt. You groan, turning your face to the sky above you. It was gratifying being able to let loose with your own powers. Usually that many mimics will render you immobile, but you were able to spring into action right next to them. “Ma’am, a report from the Tokyo campus,” A file is passed in front of you. As you glance through the pages you turn to glance at your boss.

She seems busy chatting away with one of the other sorcerers. You blow out a sigh and tuck the file under your arm. “Call them back and tell them I’ll be there within the hour.” You glance down at your sweats, wincing at the fact you wore such comfortable clothes to work. “Maybe make that 2.” You mutter, a disapproving scowl taking over your face.

You ran home to change into a pair of running shoes, black leggings, and whatever shirt was on top of your dirty laundry. Unlike someone else, you couldn’t teleport, so public transportation was your only way to reach the Tokyo campus area. Walking up the stairs takes a little more effort than you’d like to admit, but when you reach the top you’re met with a shirtless Satoru Gojo and Nanami Kento training. Your jaw practically dislocates from your mouth as you gawk. They were gliding through the air and Nanami somehow had a more excited expression on his face than before. Of course, Satoru notices you first, but that allows Nanami to get a whack in. “Hey! That was foul play.” Satoru hisses, holding his cheek.

Nanami shrugs, bending down to pick a towel off the ground. “Should’ve put your infinity back up.” He then glances at you and smiles. Your heart warms and a cheesy smile appears on your face. “Hey YN,” He waves and for a moment you’re awestruck by how handsome he is. The Lord was kind to these men. So…so very kind. Both of them were muscular, their abdomens shaped into ridges and divots. Biceps, triceps, everything went on in rippling splendor forever. You’d thought Satoru had maintained a scrawny figure, but you were certainly proved wrong and you were so glad you were.

“Hi there Nanami.” You walk over to him, picking up a stray water bottle on your way. You hand it to him but he shakes his head.

“Thank you, but that’s actually his,” he juts his thumb toward Satoru and your face falls. You toss it toward the silver-haired man and he annoyingly catches it with ease.

He glares at you, throwing his towel over his shoulder. “Yeah, thanks YN.” He grumbles. Nanami nods toward the school building.

“If you let me wash up I can take you to Yaga’s office.” He’s back to smiling and honestly, you might have a thing for smiles.

You latch your hands behind your back and giggle to yourself. “That would be really sweet of you Nanami.” Satoru snorts out a laugh on the other side of Nanami. You shoot him a glare.

“Why are you callin’ Nanami by his first name but you don me fuckface?” Satoru shoots toward you, frustration twinging all of his happiness from the earlier training session. Nanami peers between you two, and then his brows shoot up with an airy laugh.

“Oh my God you’re the one that called him fuckface? That’s so fucking funny.” Nanami laughs toward the sky, a soft sound coming from him.

Satoru grumbles to himself, rolling his eyes like a frustrated child. “You are coming with me.” He growls, latching onto your wrist and pulling you toward the school.

You stumble over your footing as he yanks you down the pathway. “S-Satoru w-wait oh my God!” You yell as you finally enter the building. He tosses you into the room you know to be his office. You falter backward, catching yourself on his desk. “What’s going on, what the fuck was that?” You hiss. He stalks toward you, throwing his towel onto the couch with a little more aggression than you’d like.

He closes the distance between you, his nostrils flaring and eye twitching. “Oh so now you call me by name? Oh well, it’s too late for that now princess. You’ve pushed me far enough.” He laughs hotly moving between your legs. He’s massive and his skin is warm, you can feel the heat radiating off of him through your pants. He towers over you in an overwhelmingly torturously attractive way.

It was hard to understand what was happening with the ringing of your heart covering all rational thought. “What are you saying? I’m not the one that made all those stupid jokes,” You mutter, looking away from him. He hisses, grabbing onto your chin and making your gaze settle back onto him.

He laughs dryly as you blink questioningly at him. “Yeah? You had that stupid crush on me, that’s what caused this.” He spits, but you still can’t decipher what he’s trying to get at.

Your lips part, letting out a small exasperated breath. “Listen, I didn’t mean to crush on you again, just old habits die hard I guess,” You explain, groaning as his grip tightens on your chin. His face looks tormented like some great plague has taken over his body.

He scoffs, tossing your face to the side. You grunt with the impact, narrowing your eyes in annoyance. “Again? Haaa,” He covers his eyes with his hand, groaning softly. “You ran away from me then ignored me YN… how does that scream ‘I have a crush on you?’” The hand that was over his eyes drags down his face. You don’t have an explanation for him because you barely had one for yourself. “You must’ve sent one of your puppets to walk around the streets by my apartment, the campus, but the one thing I can’t figure out is how you got one of them to walk around in my head. I can’t see anyone except you and I’m going crazy.” His eyes are pained and his breath is labored. You finally understand.

“Satoru…” You whisper his name with all the softness in the world, years of loving him building up into an insurmountable emotion. He turns away from you, covering his mouth this time.

“Fuck YN, don’t say my name like that.” He hisses and you swear you can see playboy Satoru Gojo’s ears blaze a red color. “You weren’t even trying earlier, but you made me so jealous. Nanami was flirting with you right in front of me and I couldn’t do a damned thing about it. I wanted to both be Nanami and beat the shit out of him.” He slowly lets his gaze turn to you again. “I think I’m in love with you YN,” His voice is nervous, and his eyes are flittering all over your face, searching for answers.

In love with you? Satoru Gojo was in love with…you? After all the years of your mother telling you to stay away from that boy. You were never supposed to be in this situation, especially not with the head of the Gojo clan. But you know what they say… actually, you didn’t really care about some emotional quote that would relate to this very moment because all you wanted to do – craved to do, was kiss Satoru until the sun set behind the Tori gate.

“Our clans aren’t going to be very happy about this new development.” You chuckle and Satoru rolls his eyes.

“That’s not an answer YN…” Okay, so he wants words. A confirmation? What exactly did you feel? Was it love? Was it something different? You didn’t have to know now, time would solidify whatever love is. All you can do is put a name to what you’re feeling.

You smile, a blossoming feeling thumping in your chest. “Yes Satoru, I love you.” You almost don’t get the words out because Satoru slips a hand into your hair and brings your mouths together in a passionate kiss. He kisses you like he’s been a starved man all his life, like he’s never wanted to kiss someone this badly.

Satoru is obsessed with the way you gasp between kisses and how your eyes squeeze shut. “You can open your eyes, I’m the real thing.” He chuckles and brushes his thumb against your cheek soothingly.

You weren’t afraid Satoru was one of your illusions, but rather how real this was in the first place. When you really want something you shouldn’t the whole world kind of falls away when you get that thing. When Satoru kisses you, it’s only him and that was terrifying for someone who constantly surrounded herself with things. You peek through your lashes at him anyway. “The same thing goes for me, I’m real.” You state lamely.

Satoru blows out a chuckle, grinning mischievously. “Mmm, I’m not so sure about that, maybe you should show me.” His eyes darken and the sweltering heat you felt before nearly doubles in size and intensity.

You put your hand over the one he has on your cheek, lowering it until his fingertips brush against the swell of your chest. His brows shoot up and before he has much time to react you move it lower to the apex of your thighs. His breathing falters as he stares, eyes swimming with lust. “Come on Gojo, show me what a rival clan can really do.” The corners of your mouth lift in an enticing smirk.

For all the time he was irritating and downright egotistical, Satoru is a good listener now. He pushes you into the desk, groaning when your fingernails dig into his shoulders. “You sure do drive a hard bargain.” His mouth tickles against your neck, kissing a trail down to your shoulder. He pauses, taking in a breath. “Mmm, you smell so good,” He mumbles against your shirt. You flush, embarrassment running hot through your veins. Did he like the smell of your dirty shirt? If you’d known the situation you’d be in right now, you would’ve put more thought into what you were wearing.

He brings himself back up toward your face, planting a deep kiss on your lips. A selfish moan breaks through as Satoru works his lips against yours. “God, you’re so good at that.” You breathe out. A satisfied hum rumbles from his chest.

You take in his chest, appreciating the view. This earns a chortle from Satoru. “You know, I’m starting to think you only like me when my shirt is off.” You lean into him, wrapping your legs around his waist. Your eyes widen when you realize there’s something hard pressing into your thigh. How you didn’t feel it until now is a mystery because that thing is one of the 7 wonders of the world. Satoru grunts, pulling you up and off the ledge of his desk. “Do you feel that? I think I finally understand what the elders were talking about. All I want to do with you right now is ram my cock into you until I have you writhing under me. Then finish fucking my cum into your cervix so you can mother my children. That way, your parents will have to like me and my clan, because you’ll be a Gojo.” He’s being serious right now, setting you down on the couch.

You bite your lip curiously. “Do you plan on wedding me Satoru Gojo?” It’s a loaded question that he didn’t have to answer. It was a sweet moment and there you had to go asking a question like that. You don’t expect Satoru to sink onto one knee, take your hand, and place loving kisses on your knucks.

He meets your gaze, electricity burning between the both of you. “May you wrap my heart around your finger one day and bear my burdens as I will bear yours.” What was even happening? Marriage? Surely this was one big dream, because years ago when you were both kids even imagining this day seemed like a far-off occurrence. This was all so sudden, but in all honesty, when have the two of you ever conformed to conventional standards?

You were certain of one thing, you didn’t want your first time with Satoru Gojo to be on some dusty couch in the corner of his office. “Satoru… do you think we could continue…” You glance down, running your tongue over your lips. “This elsewhere?” His eyes glimmer, his mouth quirking up in a grin.

He stands, still holding your hand. “I just basically proposed to you and all you can think about is getting in my pants. Man, rejection stings.” He tuts, shaking his head. You roll your eyes as you both laugh, a heavyweight finally being lifted. Yeah, this felt right.

All at once you feel nauseated and dizzy. You squeeze your eyes shut, grasping onto Satoru like he was the only thing that could hold you up. “What the fuck was that?” You gasp, blinking your eyes open to find a completely different scene than when you closed them.

Satoru caresses your cheeks, grounding you to him. “Sorry, I promise you’ll get used to it, well… maybe not, but still I’m sorry.”

“Where are we?” You gasp, hands still clutching his arms as you peer around the living room you appear to be in. It feels less than lived in like someone staged the whole apartment – which is what you assumed Satoru had teleported you both into.

He scratches the back of his neck while nervously chuckling. “My apartment,” His gaze falls to you, taking in how perfect you look among his things. “Do you like it?” He asks with such a look in his eyes, similar to a puppy begging for attention.

You peek out the ground to ceiling-level windows, laughing to yourself. “I didn’t know teachers got paid so much.” Satoru grins, nodding toward the windows – or rather the city outside of them.

“Oh you know, I got kind of a side hustle going on.” He shrugs, then turns to you, that mischievous twinkle back in his eyes. “You should see the bedroom.” He offers you his hand, jerking his head to a hallway. “I hear the owner hates it when the bed is made, the least we should do is go mess them up for him.” You take Satoru’s hand and let him lead you into the bedroom at the end of the hall.

Once the door was shut behind you the playful comments were thrown aside – replaced by frantic kisses and undressing. Satoru sits on the foot of the bed, watching you in all your splendor. Your body was that of a dream, your breasts, the slope of your stomach, thighs, fuck everything about you was glorious. Satoru couldn’t remember how to breathe gazing upon you. “Like what you see?” You tease, positioning yourself over his lap.

You brace yourself on his shoulders, settling onto your knees. Satoru blows out a choked noise. “Thank fuck I have so many eyes because I couldn’t imagine not being able to see all of you like this.” His hands are on you, running up your back, molding his long fingers into your squishy tits, and then down your side to dig his nails into your hips. “Are you okay with this?” He inquires, tilting his head.

You smile, but a small part of you wants to line yourself up with his cock and bottom out. “I’m okay with so much more.” You breath. He understands, after all you both want the same thing right now – crave it.

You both wait with bated breath as Satoru lets you guide him into your entrance. With all the teasing and edging closer and closer to this moment, you were far from dry. It was a little embarrassing how slick you were considering there was practically no foreplay. You hiss as his pretty cock sinks deeper into your throbbing cunt. “That’s it, that’s my good girl. You can take all of me,” His grip on your hips tightens, helping push you onto him. A strangled moan hisses out of your mouth as you slump onto Satoru’s shoulders. “Feels s’good baby. God, you’re so perfect.” He’s kissing your temple and you’re squeezing his cock with airy moans. After a moment, he bottoms out, a guttural groan rumbling from within him. “You did so good, fuck,”

The air feels thick, heady, and fills with the wet sound of Satoru’s cock inside you. “Go-go ahead and move.” You order with a shaky breath. He starts to move, laying back to better fuck into you. You plant your hands on his abdomen, moaning loudly. His length hits every sensitive spot at once, causing you to tremble on top of him.

Satoru chuckles, then suddenly flips you both over. “Come on YN, I thought you’re one of the strongest sorcerers in Japan, you can handle me fucking you.”

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powderblueblood · 10 months

Note

🎵 + Steve or Eddie please :)

send me 🎵+ character name and i’ll write a lil blurb inspired by a song from their playlist (you can also request songs and i will do my level best. god is a dj and i'm god)

▶ IN MY BED - AMY WINEHOUSE

yours is a familiar face, but that don't make your place safe or you're fucking both steve and eddie on a casual basis and they're kinda clingy and jealous like peanut and butter

an: OH SHE'S SMUTTY. is this on either of the playlists i've made for steve or eddie. technically no. did i just hear it on shuffle and get inspired to write about having a hawkins slut era. technically yes. but the best part is you asked for steve or eddie and you got both, anon!!

MINORS FUCK OFF - warnings: heavy smut from the get-go; unprotected p-in-v, allusions to cunnilingus and fellatio, public sex, semi-mean!reader, leaving steve with blue balls, forceful!eddie, some mild degradation (use of the word slut, etc), hope u enjoy and hope we can coerce them into a threesome some day. it would save reader so much time

word count: 3.6k

You can't keep playing with boys like that, y'know. Somebody's going to get hurt.

As long as that somebody isn't you, you're pretty far past the point of giving a fuck.

You had emerged from the painful chrysalis of Hawkins adolescence with a great rack and a huge fucking chip on your shoulder. So much time wasted, lingering in the limbo of awkwardness and timidity, not even with the credit of being humiliated by your peers. You were glossed over, completely unnoticed by the opposite sex (and even the same sex that you'd daringly fantasize about in the dark of night).

You spent so much time sitting with your hands stuck shyly between your legs that it was only right that King Steve Harrington is now pleadingly prying them apart.

"What time did you say you had to leave, again?" he says, voice strained against the shell of your ear. Steve's fingers are making dents in the softness of your inner thighs as he spreads your legs further and futher away from one another. You're sitting pretty on his kitchen table, a place you'd chosen on purpose because from there, you could flash him the bright blue of your panties under your short, short work skirt.

Work skirt was a loose term, but you found you made better tips at the Hideout when you dressed more scantily than you'd like. Something something clientele, something something dinner and a show.

Something your co-worker had said.

All you knew was whenever you showed up at Steve's dressed for a bar shift, it drove him crazy. It drew him right to you, moth to flame, fly to spider's web, turning him all desperate and whining and eager to please. Like a dog.

"Mmm," you hum, glancing at your watch, "'bout fifteen."

You loved driving Steve crazy. Thrived on it– and part of it was a private revenge fantasy. All those years gone by using him as shower nozzle masturbation material, and now you were the one he couldn't get enough of.

His nose teases at your lips as he continues to massage into your thighs. And you admit, he's good with his hands– deliberate pressure, making the wetness at your core spread.

"Call off. Say you're sick," and his right hand is pulling at the gusset of your panties. Your hips keen toward him, an automatic response, and he strokes a knuckle down the glistening slit of your lips.

"Sick how," you ask, not really desiring an answer, talking just to talk as you web your fingers into his hair. You've noticed that the only time he's not precious about it is when you're about to fuck. Then, you can muss up his hairdo all you want.

"I couuuld," he murmurs, "make you scream my name so loud--"

The middle and ring fingers on Steve's right hand sinks inside you, down to the knuckle. You swallow a little moan, but it strangles itself out anyway.

"--that they think you have laryngitis."

You skitter out a snort, despite the fact that he's stroking you real nice with his fingers. It's so silly; it's exactly the kind of thing you'd come to expect from Steve. You used to overhear Nancy Wheeler in the hallways being all, you're an idiot, Steve Harrington. Tone dripping in affection. And you got it now, you did.

"Come on," he says, tongue ghosting at your neck as the pad of a finger circles that drop of nerves between your legs, "Take the day." He swallows. "Stay with me."

But you weren't his fuckin' girlfriend.

To be completely straight, you'd been skirting around this thing for a while– the moony-eyed way Steve would look at you after he'd cum, the trapping you in the bedsheets with peppered kisses, the recreational sports games he'd keep inviting you to and you'd keep bailing on. You couldn't even remember if he played baseball or basketball. And you didn't... care.

"I just don't know why you work in that dump," Steve says, attempting to stick a little edge on that moment of softness. But his fingers had stopped moving inside you, which quite simply would not do.

"Because," you say, you with the hard edge, you with the steeliness he can't seem to get enough of, "some of us," your hand reaches down to clamp onto his, "don't have a choice what dumps we work in," and you begin to rut onto his hand, grinding into his palm. In order to get this show on the road, you add in one pretty little groan. "... your highness."

Your slickness makes an obscene squelch and Steve's jaw cocks open, his blown-out pupils meeting yours. "Fuckin'... shit. I'd pay to keep you here if you promised to do that all day."

And you know he'd love that, to make you a kept woman. But Hawkins rich isn't kept woman rich, and you've got bills to pay.

"That can be arranged," you whisper, biting at his finely sculpted jaw, "but if you wanna put your cock in me today, you better make it fast. Those beers ain’t gonna sling themselves."

“Yeah—yeah.” Steve fumbles, aiding you in pulling off your panties. You wrap them around his wrist for safekeeping, because this skirt is way too tiny to go commando in. Flash your ass at your co-worker and you’d never live it down.

Steve unbuckles and yanks his khakis down his thighs, a remarkably unsexy clothing choice on anyone else but him. You like him the most like this— pliable, willing to do whatever you say.

You hitch your knees up, bracing the heels of your tennis shoes against the edge of the table. Steve moves to hitch your skirt up, set his hands at ten and two on your hips, but his fingers travel upward to your shirt. It’s this threadbare Janis Joplin thing, another strategic choice. It’s tight enough that you needn’t bother with a bra and also tight enough that any passing wind chill makes your nipples stand to attention. It’s hot in here, so the way they strain against the material is all Steve’s doing.

“Take this off?” It’s a request. Sometimes you wish it’d be a demand. Anyway. You pull it over your head and the way he kneads at your tits makes up for it completely. His tongue, hot and strong and ready, laves over a nipple and you shiver.

“Steve, babe,” you whine, “tick tock.”

You reach down and grab his cock, sprung free from his boxers like a jailbreak, and guide it inside you.

His dick is long and lithe like the rest of him, with this perfectly bulbous tip that caresses that pretty spot, that one that makes you open-mouth moan into his shoulder, right on entrance.

Steve rocks his hips into yours, one of his big hands cupping at your jaw. “So nice, right?” he says, licking into your mouth.

“So fucking nice.” But now is not the time for one of Steve Harrington’s classic slow jams, a drawn-out fuckfest that would ordinarily leave you rosy and blissed out. Now, you need him—

“Harder,” you breathe, “fuck me harder. Faster, baby, please. I need— I have to get you off before I leave.”

Steve is a giver, but talk like that makes him feral. He'll rarely ever take control with you, rather wait for your permission to let him take control. Which is nice, you guess, consent and all that but it kind of snuffs the fire out for you sometimes. The process takes a little longer than it needs to.

But god, when he gets into a rhythm, there's no stopping him. He guides you (when he could have shoved you) back onto your elbows as his length drills in and out of you. He bears over you with that slyly muscular frame, face buried in your breasts, keeping up a relentless pace that almost, almost has your legs seizing, almost–

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

“Fuck!” and it’s too sharp a curse to be one of pleasure. Steve is lost in you entirely, so much so that you have to tug at the hairs at the nape of his neck to get his focused attention. “Stevie, I gotta go.”

“No–fuck, come on, I’m so close.” You’ve fucked Steve Harrington enough times to know that he’s nowhere near close, that he’s got a position or two left in him before knockout. Your square stare communicates this perfectly; but he doesn’t stop, his pace just slows. Achingly slows, the way he loves to do when you’re right at the apex of an orgasm and he wants to hear the extended version of your desperate pleading. “You can be late.”

“No, I can’t,” you grumble, palming around for your discarded shirt. “I’m opening. Drunks are--mmm--lining up around the block to see me.” And my goddamn co-opener is always late. “Down, boy.”

“Fii-ii-iine,” he groans, voice cracking as his heartbeat slows in his chest. You can just about feel it thumping from here. He eases himself out of you, but doesn’t make any swift movements away from you. Pink lips, so pink that you’d once hornily remarked they were almost the same color as your pussy, pout as he stares up at you from beneath his bushy brows. God, he looks pathetic.

He’s so fucking hot.

You unwind your bright blue underwear from his wrist slowly. “You mad at me?”

“Little bit,” he murmurs, “Leaving someone with blue balls is like, a serious health hazard. You know that, don’t you?”

“Forgot you were pre-med, Steve.” Oh, that man is not pre-anything other than pre-cumming.

“If you get back here and I don’t answer the door because I’m dead from unfulfilled horniness, you’ve only got yourself to blame.”

“That is, assuming I’ll be back?” This little exercise in reminding Steve of the fluidity of your relationship earns you the most heartbreaking little scoff. You can’t help but hold his hand to your now-reclothed chest and peck a kiss to his lips. “Kidding. I’ll make it up to you, promise.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

“I’ll be thinking about finishing you off for my whole shift, if that helps,” you hum against his mouth, which is already hungrily looking for more of you.

“How ‘bout I pick you up after?”

“Mmm, I don’t know.” Look, as much as you like Steve, and you do, you like him lots, you really need a night to recharge your social battery after the shift you’re about to have.

Especially when your co-worker comes sneaking in the door a whole 15 minutes late.

“Hey!” he whispers, making a whole pantomime of shiftily stepping inside, eyes darting around underneath his curly bangs, “Bev around?”

“You know as well as I do that she’s still on that cruise, Eddie.”

“And thank fuck for that, am I right?!” A ringed hand comes down hard on the bartop, making your glass of off-brand cola rattle. Something inside you clenches as Eddie Munson beams down at you. “God bless the Indiana Sweepstakes.”

You chuckle out a little mm-hmm! and return to the crossword book someone had abandoned here months ago. When it’s slow, you and Eddie try and fail to figure out the clues, which has lead to interspersed shittalking, which has led to flirting. Which has led to… other things. On the clock and off.

The natural course of which a river flows.

Speaking of wet things, you cross one leg over the other. You hadn’t, as it happened, stopped thinking about Steve’s absence between your thighs since you’d gunned your shitty car out of his building’s driveway. Though, the closer you got to The Hideout, the less that absence became about Steve and more became about… well, anyone.

What? You’re a red-blooded American woman with a healthy sex drive.

And you’ve seen how Eddie Munson handles the wheel of a car. Forceful. Relentless. Wild.

“Figured out where I know you from, by the way,” he says, snatching the bar towel from your shoulder and throwing it over his own.

“Hey! Those things are in short supply, asshole, get your own.”

“Finders keepers,” Eddie smirks, “And– Spanish class, sophomore year.”

Cringing falsely, you toss your hands up in surrender. “Ay papi. You got me.”

“You told me you were from Oregon, you little liar.”

“And you believed me, right?” you shrug. “Not surprising that you didn’t clock me right away. I was kind of unremarkable.”

Eddie squidges past you in the narrow space behind the bar, leaning around you for something– for what, you don’t really register, because he lingers there a little longer than he needs to. You can feel his breath on your neck. “Certainly not unremarkable now, huh?” His fingers ghost at your waist. “Nice shirt.”

See, the thing you’ve found with Eddie is he doesn’t waste any time.

He’s a lifer at The Hideout, worked here all through high school, right up to now. After your first couple of shifts, you locked yourselves in the bar for what he called a peer review. It only took a couple of shots of whiskey between you before he was on his knees, eating you out from your seat on the barstool. You ground yourself onto the slope of his nose, the tip making imperfect but workable contact with your clit as his tongue dove past your lips. Eddie had gripped onto you like a man possessed, determined to make you choke out his name through your orgasm.

But Eddie had never fucked you. He’d eaten you like a last meal, sure. He’d fingered you against the rough brick exterior of the bar, yep. You’d even given him road head the couple of times he’d given you a ride home after work, dawn breaking over Hawkins and Eddie struggling to drive in a straight line toward your apartment block. But he’d never fucked you.

“Thanks,” you respond, tilting your head upwards to look at him. “Guy I was fucking before I came in sure seemed to think so.”

Eddie’s mouth curls up into this devilish little grin. “You tryin’ to make me jealous, telling me you’re gettin’ dicked down before work?”

“To his credit, dicked down is,” you sigh, “a little bit of an understatement.”

“Couldn’t finish the job?”

“Not his fault. My alarm went off.”

“And you’re so punctual.”

“Always.”

Eddie’s hand tightens around its place on your waist, dimpling into the soft flesh. “So you’re left all… wanting, is the conclusion I’m coming to.”

“Yeah…” and your teeth sink into your bottom lip. From behind you, he angles his hips against your ass, a suggestion of a push upward. The material of your skirt catches, gathers and shifts against him so you can just about feel the swell of him on your almost bare ass.

“Oh, you little slut,” he says, and fuck, if you don’t love the way he says it. The hardness on the letter ‘t’. “Coming in here all dick-hungry. You’re asking me for a favor, then?”

“Least you could do,” you say lowly, “for leaving me hanging in here all the time.”

“Right,” Eddie nods, his hand travelling toward the hem of your skirt, “The opening rush is crazy around here.”

Ain’t a sinner in the bar but the two of you.

Eddie’s fingers crawl onto your thigh, reaching higher and higher, and you nearly let out a pitiful little moan in anticipation. All you want, all you want is to plant your hands on the bar and have him drive his cock into you, ringed fingers bruising the soft flesh of your hips. Chained jeans rattling.

So you move his hand to the waistband of your panties, not that it’s far off. A suggestion of pull these fucking things down.

Eddie’s eyes flare wide. Anybody could come in. Are you sure about this?

But you’re so fucking wet that a job like this isn’t going to take long. He might not cum, but you sure will. You sure fucking will, if he keeps looking at you like that. Like he wants to wrap a ringed hand around your throat and fuck you so good, you’ll forget even the regulars’ orders.

“Eddie,” you say, purposely wiggling against him as your panties fall to the floor, “C’mon. You’re telling me you’ll let me jerk you off in the keg room but you haven’t thought about how wet it makes me? How much I want you to just–!”

“Shut up,” he says, “Fuckin’ shut up. Bend over.”

Your pulse quickens, mouth popping open.

“I said,” Eddie starts, hands going to his silver belt, “bend over, slut.”

And boy, do you ever comply– Jesus. You’ve never seen him like this before, half-mad and fully hard. Usually, Eddie’s the kind of guy who’ll joke his way through a hookup. There’ll be flashes here and there, sure. He’s got no problem telling you where to put it and when. But this…

You bend at the waist, leaning against the bar for support and scoot your legs apart. A great idea on your part, you toss a look over your shoulder– Eddie’s pumping the length of himself, his free hand roaming over the curve of your ass. He notices you looking and gives it a solid smack!, fat jiggling on the recoil. The sight of that makes his eyes keen back in his head a little, a smile dancing at his lips.

“You better be ready to dance,” he says, fingers teasing at your slit before he enters you in one slow, slow, stretching movement. “We got customers coming in, any minute now.”

Eddie breathes out a little oh god! in response to feeling just how tight you are around him. He feels exactly as you expected him to– you knew he was big from taking him in your mouth but the girth of him makes you wince a little. Once he’s moving against your honeyed walls, you’re in fucking heaven. He’s thick and solid and this close to throbbing; he’d been waiting for this as long as you had.

“Don’t worry,” he strains reassuringly, palm coming in harsh contact with your ass cheek again, “You’re cummin’ first, sweetheart.”

The brazen moan, the sound all jittery from Eddie’s rutting into your pussy, seemed to echo in the empty bar.

God, the acoustics really were great in here.

The sound of his balls slapping against your gorgeous, plush ass joins the symphony and the sting of his force hitting your soft spot makes your eyes water. You want to look at him again– you have to. Your eyes go over your shoulder and Eddie’s there, fucking beautiful under the bar light’s glow and transfixed on the way your body’s moving against him. He doesn’t need any encouraging. His hand reaches for your throat, holding your chin in place so you can watch him fuck you, so he can watch your pretty face contort as you crest your orgasm.

Your cunt tightens around him and the sounds he starts making are nothing short of obscene– guttural, growling, snarling. “Fucking getting what you want now, aren’t you, baby girl? All you needed–uhnh–was my fucking–fat cock to cum all over–”

And it’s hitting you in waves you’d gladly drown in, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes. You reach down to flick at your swollen clit, half-regretting you’re not drawing out the contractions of your pussy a little bit longer. “Good fucking girl, give me everything you got–”

“Cum inside me, Eddie, fucking please–” you cry, right over the crest of your orgasm.

“Huh?” He barely registers what you’ve said, talking you through the arresting drown of your orgasm. But then he gets it, and his eyes do that siren flare thing that they do. “Really? Yeah?”

“Yeah, fucking– yeah!” you yell, a little louder than you mean to, “Fill me, please, I want you drippin’ out of me all night–”

That’s enough for him to jerk and shudder, his noises becoming tauter, his thrusts becoming shorter, bottoming out inside you in a warm gush.

Fuck. Fuck.

“Fuck,” you blink, moving Eddie’s hand from your throat as he eases himself out of you.

“Yeah,” he breathes, pulling the bar towel from his shoulder to wipe himself off. “Fu-uuck.”

You turn back to face him and snatch the towel, patting between your own legs.

“Gross,” he chides.

“Finders keepers, asshole,” you giggle, breathless. And satisfied. That giggle bubbling out of you is contagious, because now Eddie’s giggling too. Peals and peals of silly laughter, fizzing out of you both like phosphate. That was fun. Eddie’s fun.

“Might wanna put those back on,” he points to the ground once he’s caught his breath. Oh right. Your panties.

“Yeah, I–”

But then the bar door swings open, your name called out through the entrance. Wait, is that–

“--fuckin’ Steve Harrington?” Eddie mutters, leaning over the bar to get a better look.

“Babe,” Steve says, catching sight of you with a little slip of red leather in his hand. “You forgot your…”

He pauses, Maybe he catches that you and Eddie are in a state of post-coital undoneness. I mean, the pink cheeks, the ruffled hair, Eddie’s half-secured belt may be a tip off, but…

“...wallet.”

But where a guilty feeling ought to have settled in, there’s no boats in your damn harbor. Steve Harrington, while lovely, was not your fuckin’ boyfriend. You pluck the wallet out of his hand as his eyes narrow, looking toward Eddie. Eddie, for his part, is putting the puzzle pieces together.

So it was Steve’s place you were running off to after shifts, Steve’s new car you were jumping out of when you arrived sometimes.

And he looks a little… jealous.

“Thanks, Stevie,” you say, blowing him a little kiss with the wallet. “You wanna drink while you’re here?”

“Nah, I– I gotta… I’m jettin’. So. Later? Later.” Steve Harrington, still struggling to be the epitome of cool. And failing miserably.

You give him a little wave and watch him, fondly, as he leaves. God bless Banana Republic and everything those should-be-fuck-ugly khakis have done for you. In your peripheral vision, Eddie appears next to you. Leaning on the bar. Glaring.

“What’s the matter, Munson?” you simper. “Cat got your dick?”

#powder room talk #Anonymous

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reshinless · 2 months

Note

may i ask (politely) for a chuuya x reader where his lover is just like- in the nicest way possible, a mix of a german shepard person and a calico cat. They are just the sweetest person, yet also can get upset if called out or someone insults those close to them (as in full on plotting a murder but is too sweet to actually go through with it) like just a normal day story pls- if they were also a pm member I'd love you to the moon-

─── my only one, moon and sun..

𝜗𝜚 synopsis. the sweetest ever!!!... plus chuuya i guess /j (chuuya x really nice reader

𝜗𝜚 pairings. chuuya x gn!reader

𝜗𝜚 director's notice. HIII I LOVE THIS IDEA SM. ty for sending this in. IM SO SORRY THAT I COULDN'T MAKE READER A PM MEMB I COULDN'T FIND A SILLY NICE CUTE WAY TO WRITE FOR THEM :( i wanted to do like a lil story b4 the actual thing so i'm sorry.. you can say i got a little carried away (i forgot the prompt) follow & rb to support ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ

pre-relationship!chuuya who was surprised by how undeniably sweet you were to him. didn't you know how dangerous he was?

pre-relationship!chuuya who had just helped you from a robber who tried to snatch your bag. you were just sweet enough to invite him out for dinner as a thank you

and boy was pre-relationship!chuuya all over the idea. although enamoured by the mere thought of being out with someone who was everything he ever looked for in someone, he kept refusing, not wanting to take up any of your precious time. but you were stubborn, and firmly insisted on taking him out. and god did he like that.

pre-relationship!chuuya who'd already forgotten the meeting he was supposed to attend at 7:00pm sharp. it's already 8 and he's still talking with you. but of course, he didn't wanna make the interest too obvious, but subtle enough to notice.

and finally when you two exit the restaurant, pre-relationship!chuuya's eyes can't help but broaden as you tell him 'thank you'. damn he hasn't heard that in forever. awkwardly had to look away, gosh this was the first- no it wasn't even a damn date! and his face was already dusted with pink.

"look it's fine.. really it is.. it's what any good person would've done seeing your situation." ( ˶°ㅁ°) !! "but i still want to say it. i still want to tell you thank you. not many people are good nowadays, you know." (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ )

although before pre-relationship!chuuya didn't wanna make it obvious, definitely wanted another dinner like this with you.

"...say how about i walk you home? the least i could do after dinner. wouldn't want your purse/bag to get stolen again do we?" (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ a brief chuckle from you, and a smile forms. damn is it just him or were you just smiling at him? "sure! chuuya right?" "y-yeah! yeah! yes!"

safe to say that wouldn't be the last time pre-relationship!chuuya walked you home. he'd make sure it wasn't at least.

boyfriend!chuuya who suddenly had the need to let you spend all his money. even if you refused. that's so honestly why he fell for you in the first place.

boyfriend!chuuya who followed you into any store you went to, card in hand, and suggested to buy anything you picked up.

boyfriend!chuuya who was minding his own business while accompanying you to the cute little fruit mugs over there 'till two rude girls who were suddenly arriving in the same aisle as you both were in

"oh my gosh.. no way that girl is going out with a man so small.." "yeah literally.. i would never have said yes. can't believe there are actually women that prefer men below 6ft!"

boyfriend!chuuya's whose eyes twitched hearing what they'd just said, but then decided not to mind them. if he'd learned anything from you, he wouldn't say anything back.

but you never said you wouldn't talk back.

"what do you mean? he's nicer than your deadbeat father for sure."

the two girls gave a look of disgust but quickly left. and your expression, well more like your demeanor changed as they did.

"we should get the banana and strawberry ones, right? let's match!" "huh? oh yeah sure."

boyfriend!chuuya is still stunned from what you said, but ended up just muttering an "yeah sure" before you both paid and left the store.

boyfriend!chuuya who asked why did you defend him, even when you weren't trashtalked about, after you both left and got ice cream.

"well we're partners now right? no one should talk about you like that. besides, you aren't that short." ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´- "of course i am not!!" ୧(๑•̀ᗝ•́)૭

boyfriend!chuuya who loves it so much when you defend him after that interaction. you aren't afraid to assert yourself to others. you aren't afraid to tell them something bad in return. and damn was it hot to see how you looked confronting anyone who had insulted either of you two.

boyfriend!chuuya who's so in love with you what a silly little guy

GN ITS BEEN SO LONG SINCE I'VE WRITTEN FOR BSD..! i hope this was somewhat coordinated with the prompt dear anon

#──── resin: performances #──── resin: custom play #bsd x reader #bsd chuuya #bsd x you #bungou stray dogs #chuuya nakahara #chuuya x reader #chuuya x you #chuuya x y/n #chuuya bsd #chuuya fluff #bsd headcanons #bsd hcs #bsd drabbles #bsd scenarios #bungou stray dogs chuuya #chuuya headcanons #chuuya hcs

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mistydeyes · 1 year

Text

𝔀𝓮𝓵𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽!

i’m currently not active atm but feel free to pursue my previous works <3

here's a short lil explanation as to where i am lol

click me for asks + requests :)

requests: closed atm!

pairings status: closed atm!

rules for requests - i love when you send things 💌

note - message me or comment on any one of my works if you want to be added to a tag list :)

I usually post on mondays, wednesdays, and fridays

izzie's fic recommendations - updated daily!

some things about me :)

the basics: 22, she/her, from the us :)

i'm a third year pharmacy student! also minoring in justice, law, and society

along with writing, i also intern at a retail pharmacy during the summer and a psychiatric hospital during the school year

so naturally my pharmacist series is my absolute favorite to write and research!

𝓶𝔀𝓲𝓲 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽 - the full masterlist

don't know where to start? here's a few readers' favorites :) ❤️ - izzie’s favorites

💌 if you want to peek at all of my writings

S E R I E S

"your prescription is ready for pick-up" - 141 x pharmacist!reader

all of my works and our pharmacist reader

a panacea❤️ - 141 meets the cure to all their ailments

sick day visit - you prided yourself on never getting sick but the day has finally come. as you’re resting in your quarters, a certain group pays you a visit :)

fake hypochondriac ghost x reader (sequel to “a panacea”) - ghost goes to extreme lengths to see his favorite pharmacist

pain-killer fueled thoughts price x reader (sequel to “a panacea”) - price landed himself in the medic tent and his pain killers are making him tell the pharmacist his feelings.

keep your weapons hot and bodies hotter (18+) - stripper!141 x fem!reader (codename: Phoenix)❤️

hunk-o-mania 141 edition - feast your eyes on Delilah's Den's newest male dancers

playboy bunny phoenix edition - an unforeseen guest complicates the mission, now you have to get ready to act as the distraction on stage

the joys of civilian life - 141 x civilian!fem!reader

opposite occupations - while on leave, the boys each meet a civilian that makes their time deployed and defending their country worth it

family moments - 141 x fem!reader

little moments and little voices - precious moments you spend in your home with your husband and children :)

oh, darling, don’t you ever grow up - your husband leaves this world too early and now you have to pick up the pieces with your children

secrets and pointed fingers (requested!)❤️ - simon "ghost" riley

behind locked doors - when the 141 thinks you're the mole, they make sure to extract the information in whatever way possible

empty apologies and avoiding glances - when you return back to base, everything is far from normal

half empty glasses and unchanging perspectives - you try to run away from the trauma at the pub but with a glass in hand, simon finds you

O N E - S H O T S

odd hobbies - 141 x reader everyone has their own hobbies, yours are just unique to 141’s perspective

butterfly effect - 141 x fem!reader they say "a butterfly flaps its wings in the amazonian jungle, and subsequently a storm ravages half of europe." what once was a silly quote now has implications as one action leads to your death.

opposite of a meet cute❤️ - 141 x civilian!reader most people have a cute story as to how they met their significant other but yours is a little more eccentric

V I S U A L S + R A N D O M

random things in pockets and bags❤️ SERIES - what does the 141 carry on them when they’re on leave?

pt i- kyle “gaz” garrick

pt ii - simon "ghost" riley

pt iii - johnny "soap" mactavish

pt iv - john price

E X P L A I N S my series of explaining the various timeline's of the games and characters

simon "ghost" riley's backstory

which modern warfare game should i play first?

some writings from the inbox

medication mixup - the medic unknowingly prescribing you a penicillin has disastrous results due to your allergy

141’s dossier - see what the dossiers laswell gets at the end of mw 2019 looks like! + template

ghost’s doppelgänger - how does the 141 and los vaqueros react to you joining the team? their reactions are even better when you share an uncanny resemblance with ghost

running mascara - 141 x fem!reader harsh words are said and you try your best to run away from the cause. however, everyone needs to face the issue eventually and now the 141 is left to pick up the pieces. initially part of my 1k celebration but i added a sequel as it was highly requested! PART I and PART II

mw2 x reader - my ongoing series of pairing y'all up and writing a short lil blurb about how you met and your relationship

izzie’s 1K celebration! - closed now :) but feel free to look and see some of the prompts + how i answered them

𝓪𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓬 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓴𝓼

#tag list #masterlist

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nebulousbrainsoup · 11 months

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Always, For You.

SUMMARY: For ages, you have taken care of the Crown Prince, helped him escape his worries and the stresses of soon bearing the throne. Tonight, he wants to take care of you. PAIRING: prince!seonghwa x fem!reader GENRE: smut, lil bit of fluff AU/TROPE: royal au, secret lovers/forbidden love WORD COUNT: 2.5k RATING: 18+ TAGS/WARNINGS: pet names (my love, darling, my prince), idiots in love, it's really emotional (but in a good way), not beta'd, probably questionable editing A/N: for @hwaightme || bai, my love, my soulmate, the seong to my joong and one of the kindest people i have ever had the pleasure of knowing; happiest of birthdays to you. thank you for the joy you bring into the lives of others. thank you for being the sweet soul you are. and thank you, eternally, for indulging and encouraging my chaos and bullshit at every possible turn and for going very rapidly from "admired favorite author" to "chaos mutual" to "dear friend". this blog would not be what it is without you, and i cannot thank you enough. much love, and happy birthday <3 smut tags under the cut ; divs from @cafekitsune masterlist | join my taglist | buy me a coffee?

SMUT TAGS/WARNINGS: momentary dom/sub tones, they're both switches, oral (fem recieving), seonghwa's tongue, pet names (good boy, my prince), no protection (don't do it)

The chill of the approaching winter permeated the air around you, piercing through the thin material of your night dress. Your cheeks surely had a rosy, wind-kissed tint to them, and you could feel the skin of your lower lip chapping as you gnawed at it. The minutes were dragging on like hours as you waited, ever patient, for your lover to emerge from the darkness of the palace gardens. He was not infrequently late; being the prince, he had many responsibilities to take care of before seeing you—but rarely had the sky been dark for so long before his arrival. A shiver coursed through you and you brought your numbing fingers to your lips, breathing warmth back into them.

Your time together was precious and so very limited. You would wait. He had never betrayed your trust before, and he would not do so tonight.

After what may have been hours, quick, light footsteps approached your perch on the same bench you perched on every week, unmistakable as anyone other than the man you awaited. He looked flustered already when he turned the corner, cheeks flushed pink from the brisk night, and he sighed in relief when his gaze fell upon you. You smiled, less warmth and more mischief behind yours, as your mind ran wild at the sight of him.

He was in front of you in two long strides, bowing to press his lips to your knuckles as you rose to your feet. His cloak wound its way around your shoulders, an apology in his sweet brown eyes as he took you in.

“Y/N,” he sighed, breathless, “you waited.”

“Seonghwa,” you smiled, reaching up with your free hand to close the cloak around your shoulders, “you came.”

It was a silly ritual, really, one you would deny if another ever discovered it. You had long since stopped scolding the prince for his whispered apologies at his frequent tardiness, settling instead on a compromise. His greeting, an apology, and yours, a soft abatement of his nerves. You would wait until the end of time for your prince charming.

“You’re near-frozen,” he hummed, clasping your hand between both of his to warm it.

“I’m alright,” you replied, smiling warmly as those wide eyes begged once more for the forgiveness you readily offered. “You made it, my love, that is what matters.”

He beamed, the stars dancing in his eyes as he straightened up. “I have somewhere warm for us tonight, if you would allow me the honor of your company.”

Ever the gentleman, Seonghwa released your hand, offering instead his arm. “The honor would be all mine, Your Highness.” You looped your arm through his, giggling to yourself as his ears turned pink.

You would go anywhere he desired of you.

The one-room cottage you found yourself in was quaint and cozy, a small fire already burning in the hearth when your lover opened the door for you. Grinning once more, you curtsied before you stepped over the threshold, sighing as the warmth in the cottage sank into your bones. Something undefinable tugged at your heart as your eyes roamed the space, noting the small bed pushed into a corner, the lingering scent of dust in the air and—as the centerpiece of Seonghwa’s evening work—-a cozy-looking nest of pillows, cushions and blankets nestled squarely in front of the fire. Huffing out a happy, breathless laugh, you turned back to find him observing you, a coy smile on his face.

“How did you manage this?”

“I nearly didn’t,” he admitted, stepping properly into the space and admiring his handiwork. “Autumn has been shorter than I anticipated. It was my intention to have this place for us before the first freeze, but I’m afraid I didn’t quite reach that goal.”

His eyes had drifted to the floor as he turned back to you. Quietly, you closed the space, cupping his jaw to guide his eyes back to your own. “It’s perfect, Hwa. Thank you.”

The smile that spread across his face warmed you more than the crackling fire. “Anything for you, dearest.”

His eyes darted to your lips as he spoke, and you smiled, once again rolling the bottom one between your teeth. You could feel the way his pulse ticked up under your fingers, and warmth spread through your body. It was a beautiful thing, to be so wanted.

“Anything?” you breathed, barely audible. Still, he nodded. “Then make love to me, my prince.”

He needed no more direction, sealing his lips over your own and pulling you flush against him. A pleased hum passed between your lips at his blatant need, his grip on your waist firm. You sighed into the kiss, arms draping over his shoulders and fingers carding into his hair. With one soft tug, he was melting in your arms, a breathy groan leaving him as you guided him away from you and gestured to the nest he had made.

“Take your boots off and kneel, darling,” you directed, a warm smile still etched onto your features.

Seonghwa was enamored with you, his doe eyes shining as he nodded eagerly and rushed to follow your instructions. Your heart fluttered once again as you watched him obey, slipping your own shoes off and slowly making your way to the fireplace to carefully hang his cloak next to it. When you turned back to him, he was watching you with a steady, half-lidded gaze, hands obediently splayed on his thighs.

You beamed, stepping into the ring of coziness and kneeling in front of him, catching his chin to pull him in for another brief kiss. “There’s my good boy.”

You both heard and felt his breath catch, as he preened at the praise, leaning into your touch. “Always for you, all for you,” he hummed, eyes flickering over your face.

You observed him carefully for a moment, eyes narrowing as his gaze remained sharp, reading you as you were reading him. Many nights, all it took was a single direction and a bit of praise and you had the prince eating out of the palm of your hand. Tonight, though, you could see something different in his gaze—something curious and questioning.

“You’re thinking again,” you murmured, fingers tracing back up his jaw to card into his hair. “This is meant to stop that.”

“It’s not bad, this time,” he hummed, hands leaving his thighs to ghost up your sides. You barely held back a pleasant shiver, raising an eyebrow at both his statement and his bold move. “Let me take care of you tonight,” he muttered, gaze meeting yours once more, “Let me do for you what you do for me.” He shifted from his position, kneeling up to loom over you, and you felt your stomach flip. “Let me worship every inch of your body and treat you tonight like the queen I will one day make you.”

All of your usual bravado was gone, the persona you had so carefully built for your encounters with Seonghwa ripped to shreds with a few pretty words. You heaved a shaky, breathless sigh and nodded. “Yes.”

His lips met yours once more the instant the word left your mouth, hands wrapping firmly around your torso. You pressed yourself against him until every possible inch of your body was flush with his own, grip firm in his hair and on his shoulder. Slowly, gently, he shifted, laying you back into the bed he had made for you as though you would shatter. His hands roamed over you, his touch feather-light as he explored your body. For the first time in your memory with Seonghwa, you were the first to break the kiss. You parted from him with a gasp and a heady whine, grip tightening against his scalp as he took the opportunity to trail kisses down your neck. As his lips worked lower, his hands slipped higher, sneaking under the thin cotton of your night dress to slide up your thighs. You sighed, pleased, and felt him moan against your collar bone as he found your ass bare. His eyes flickered up to your own, pleading with you, and you grinned. Perhaps tonight would not be so different, after all.

You had a special, particular relationship with the Crown Prince. Never in your memory had he taken control of you in any aspect; you were always the one to take care of him. His daily duties weighed upon him heavily; any courtesan or servant with a working set of eyes and a brain could see that. One passing comment about helping His Highness get out of his head and he had begun sending you missives, calling for you to meet him in the gardens after sundown. You could remember the first night you spent with him as though it were yesterday, little more than a conversation and a chaste kiss shared between the two of you. Oh, how beautifully had he blossomed.

Now, there was no rosy coloring to the tips of his ears as he lifted you from the makeshift mattress and tugged your night dress over your head, dropping it carelessly to the side. Now, the eyes that once looked at you with trepidation and abashment burned into you hungrily as his lips reattached to your skin at the earliest opportunity. You whined in protest as you were left bare to him, an unfamiliar sound that had him halting in his tracks for only a moment before his mind registered your shaking hands, tugging frantically at the buttons on his uniform coat. He chuckled quietly, sitting back on his heels to do the work for you.

“I never thought you would let me have you like this,” he admitted, a sheepish smile gracing his delicate features. “Thank you.”

His pause was long enough for you to take a deep breath and gather yourself just enough to smirk at him, the hand still on him tracing lower to press against his arousal. “I know you’ll make it worth my while, won’t you, my prince?”

Your words seemed to douse the flames behind his eyes in kerosene, his jaw tensing as he stripped his upper half with more urgency. “I will make tonight worth every minute you have ever waited for me.”

Within seconds, his coat had been stripped away and his undershirt quickly followed, each finding their way to the floor. He dropped just as rapidly to settle his face between your thighs, pupils lust-blown as he glanced up at you. For the first time since you had begun this relationship, he asked for no permission before pressing his tongue against your core and lapping a fat stripe up it. The moan that ripped from your throat at the combined sensation and unfamiliar position had him humming happily against you, eyes slipping shut in bliss as he began to work you over. Seonghwa could die happily between your thighs, he thought. There was something intoxicating about your scent, your taste, and each time he found himself in this position, it took every bit of his willpower not to stay there the whole night.

Tonight, though, he could do just that.

His moans buzzed through you pleasantly and your hands once again anchored themselves in his hair, grounding you against the onslaught of pleasure as that devilishly talented tongue of his fucked into you. Your hips moved of their own accord, grinding against his lips and chin as he lapped and sucked at your clit, interspersing the intense waves of pleasure with the kinder, gentler sensation of dipping into your entrance. You sighed and squirmed under his attention, fingers tugging gently at his scalp in encouragement. He was practically purring as he drank you in eagerly, lust-drunk gaze locked onto your expression while your legs closed tighter around his head. Within mere minutes, you were falling over the peak of your orgasm, grip vice-like in Seonghwa’s hair as you held him still—though, if his moans were any indication, he wouldn’t move if he could.

That sinful, skilled tongue laved at you until you were a whimpering mess, palm pressing against his forehead to nudge him away as overstimulation began to take hold. He gasped for breath as he relented, turning his head to press a soft kiss to the inside of each of your thighs. Your chest heaved as your eyes blinked open, a fresh wave of arousal making you shudder at the dark, hungry gaze fixed on you.

“I could die happily between your legs,” he muttered, voice hoarse and laden with arousal.

“Seonghwa,” you sighed, reaching forward to drag him into a messy kiss. The taste of your arousal lingered on his tongue, now sliding between your lips the same way it had parted your folds. Gripping his hair tighter, you reluctantly dragged him back, taking a shaky breath to steady yourself. “I need you.”

Your plea came out breathless, saturated in need and, when paired with your nails dragging over the front of his pants, it was impossible for your lover to misunderstand it. It was his turn to breathe a shaky exhale, gentle hands pressing you back into the now disheveled nest until he could rise to his knees. You watched him carefully, an appreciative half-smile stuck on your face as he rid himself of the rest of his clothes. He was beautiful in every situation, in every light, but tonight, with the dancing firelight bathing him in gold and casting twisting patterns over his skin, he was a work of art that should be immortalized in a gallery.

The warmth of the fire when combined with his body heat was overwhelming in the best way, just the right side of suffocating to push all other thoughts from your mind. He captured your lips firmly as he once more caged you in, filling you perfectly as your hips met. Pleased sounds left your lips in unison when he began to move; strong, slow rolls of his hips that had you arching up into him. Little time passed before your kiss dissolved into nothing more than panting against each other’s mouths, and you fell back to the ground, content to lock your eyes instead of your lips. His intensity had you short of breath; this ethereal man, the Crown Prince, was looking down at you as though you had hung the stars in the sky.

With a tight, high whine, your second high of the night crashed into you, fingers tightening in his hair again. Your shared gaze did not break as he quickly followed you over his own peak, his mouth dropping open and brows creasing in pleasure.

When you both came back down to earth, neither of you let the other go, bodies tired and satiated, the warmth of the fire lulling you both into a sleepy state. Your time together would be cut short soon, you knew, but you let yourself bask in peace for now.

His whisper cut through the quiet like thunder, “One day, I will have you. My promises are not empty. I will move mountains to have you by my side. I will do anything, my love.”

You could hear the tension in his voice, the tears gathering at his water line. Shifting up, you pressed your lips to his to silence him. “Will you stay, then?”

He smiled, the dying flames beside you dancing in his eyes. “Always, for you.”

In the aftermath, wrapped soundly in his arms, you let yourself believe.

TAGLISTS: [open, apply here]

permanent: @justhere4kpop @thatonenoona @tastymintchocolate @bahng-chrizz @elllisaaa ateez: @pyeonghongrie-main @tattywood special: @pocketsky

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1-49 · 7 months

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hit by luck

pairing: f!reader × chanyoung, sungchan ⁝ tags: rain. tokyo. & love at first sight / fluff. gets lil angsty. wc. 3.1k

note: this has been in my drafts ever since those two pictures dropped, & basically, this whole thing is just an extension of what sorta of mood they inspired. ik it’s kind of late but i love the atmosphere, so im posting it anyway.

All this waiting ─── Holding out for the storm to pass. Stuck in traffic and waiting. Waiting for the bus at a crowded bus stop.

Since the idiotic weather app on your phone was unable to foresee such a severe downpour, you are without an umbrella. You find yourself standing like a cat caught in the rain after spending a perfect sunny afternoon exploring Tokyo’s streets.

Neither the metro nor the two buses that have come & gone are going in your direction. More room and privacy for yourself as the majority of passengers board the buses and lessen the crowded, small, glassed station—for which you are grateful. After trying your luck twice, you are stuck waiting for the third bus.

The peculiar scent of rain on asphalt fills your nostrils as you accept your bad luck & attempt to take solace in the rain, the foggy lights of the passing traffic & the bright neon signs that give the city its unique flavor. There are a variety of sounds in the street, ranging from soft and loud to melodic and even disorienting.

You seem like such a loser out in the rain. The end effect of running so fast and not caring where you step is clumps of hair and muddy shoes, followed by ten minutes of waiting. You are glad you didn’t wear too much makeup for today’s walk because you’d have looked like a total wreck. Smugly, you try to adjust your mascara and eyeshadow in your little mirror and pretend it’s fine.

And so, you concentrate on the raindrops as they land in a specific dip in the pavement, creating tiny air bubbles that rise to the surface like bubbles in a champagne glass. This little world seems to be what fascinates you about Tokyo at the moment, despite its vast size.

That is when the two giants casually stroll into the safe haven you have found in all the fast life.

The two towering frames jostle one another in this terrifying performance that the sky is putting on, laughing at something so ridiculous that you have to wonder how they can do it. The evening sky is practically ripping at its seams, but they do not seem to notice.

Their laughter is contagious as they battle for space under a transparent umbrella that the taller one is holding. Their bodies are too broad for the protective gear, and they seem to lose simultaneously because most of their opposing shoulders and arms are soaked. For the tiny spaciousness they seek but don’t find, the pair comes across as endearing and humorous. You realize there is beauty in the fact that neither of them seems to mind. They remain upbeat and truly unaffected, which is inspiring.

That they are close friends is highly likely. They are even dressed alike. One is wearing green cargo pants and the other over-dye jeans, both with black upper apparel.

They could be mistaken for twins due to their dangerous synchronicity. Not like born together. Not fused like the two sides of an oyster encasing a precious pearl. However, exactly opposites, much like the two sides of a mirror. Equally stunning, and in their case, the pearl is their friendship.

The sounds of the city fade, and you feel every nook and cranny in your body thudding as you witness them make the spontaneous decision to wait for a bus.

The ‘polar twins’ resemblance they give off is unfair.

While the cargo boy’s carefree demeanor gives hours of silly photos and odd Tik Toks, funny videos, and Twitter drama, the headphones hanging around his neck pay close and serious attention to music, which you thoroughly appreciate. This particular aspect of him almost instantly makes you fall in love.

But the taller boy doesn’t fall behind either;

he closes the umbrella as soon as he enters the glassed area. His hand clasped around his brown cashmere cardigan radiates warmth and comfort, and his strikingly bare collarbones radiate needs and dreams. His contradictory aura clouds your judgment and prevents you from making further assumptions about his interests in basketball, games, and literature.

The tip of the umberlla accidentally bumps into your arm when he closes it, revealing his slight clumsiness.

His regret is evident in his eyebrows even before he says, “Sorry.” His eyes widen with it. Lovely and compassionate, with a hint of mocha. Like there is freshly brewed coffee swirling around inside his crystals.

Sparks shimmer up your arms as you watch and listen to his apology and say that it’s nothing.

The music boy’s position is to your left, as the ‘clumsy’ guy shifts to your right, which he does not realize until he apologizes.

With obvious happiness, the music boy inserts himself and begins to tease him. “He acts that way all the time, so don’t worry. If his good looks don’t work to get him noticed, he will try playing on his clumsiness.”

You can be sure that the ‘clumsy’ guy is pouting and sulking over the nonsense that was just said, even though your eyes are finally turning to the person who is seeking them.

There is an eternal smile on the face of the goofier of the two. One of those smiles that can break through the clouds and stop the rain. A ray of light, really. He breaks through the barriers of your heart with his quiet voice too. The fact that he can capture your heart with such ease and beauty is just a crime.

They may have looked the same in one frame, but now that they are essentially standing on either side of you, they are starting to show more of their charm. It gets harder to be between two extremely attractive giants as their individuality starts to emerge.

You have a sneaking suspicion that the boy you are looking at is the younger one.

And while the bright colors of the city match his mischievousness, his confidence has a short fuse. This becomes apparent when he stops coming up with new jokes for his friend and stays staring at you for longer than fifty seconds.

Before you know what the two of you are doing, his smile spreads across your face like sunlight does on tulips in the early spring. It’s an inadvertent eye lock until he realizes it’s too much. It really melts your heart to discover that he is a shyer one, and you end up melting right into the rain puddle that is at your feet.

You then take up your previous posture, facing forward. For a brief while, they distracted you from the fact that you were waiting for a bus to the hotel. As you take a big swallow, there is an odd quietness among the three of you.

You cannot help but wish that some of them would speak up and say something. Why you want this to go on is beyond you, but you want it to. Their bodies radiate a warmth that suffocates you while simultaneously providing warmth against the chilly autumn breeze. This brings you back to the point where you’re mentally cursing your app for tricking you because you were totally unprepared for today’s outing.

‘Soft eyes’, as in literally, hands you the sweather he was holding as soon as he notices that you’re shivering.

It pains you to try to turn down his offer, but you do.

Still, he refuses to accept it. “You can give it back as soon as one of our buses arrives. Keep it till then.” Ignoring your protests, he carefully places the soft wool in your hands. You have no choice but to comply with his insistence. “Besides, I don’t need it.”

You raise your gaze to him and once more meet his eyes—this time with a smile added.

You remember that when he bumped into you, he was trying to hide a smile so that he could apologize more sincerely, which means you haven’t been a witness to his smile just yet.

However, his smile has the same profound effect on you as the guy on the other side. You are sure the sun is in his heart too, just as much as it’s in his eyes. His kindness is his beauty. Very soft; almost as soft as a ball of cashmere, or similar to his cardigan’s overly long sleeves as you play with them.

Given their earlier recklessness, you would never have trusted two random boys to be this kind. So gracious as to lay you two of their favorite accessories in your possession.

One is keeping you warm, and the other, after being prodded to share the song he has been working on, is putting his headphones on you and letting his joy seep through your ears to your bones.

Feeling a little more shy, his breath hits your face, tense and warm as he’s inside. He is pulsing with understanding so as not to invade your personal space while practically failing. As if you couldn’t have done it yourself, he decides to put his headphones on you abruptly. A current is all that is moving him, and not a single conscious brain cell is applying any kind of brake.

The color hits his cheeks when your gaze meets halfway again. He’s being cheeky, though, when he asks, “Are you ready?” while towering over you.

He presses play on the song he composed after you nod with equal enthusiasm.

With the ‘soft guy’ on the right, you’re a little more confident, but when it comes to the ‘shy boy’ in front, you are a complete mess. The prospect that he’s equally as wreaked as you are is the primary cause of your emotions. They are deeply affecting you both, and even though you would prefer to hide in the next bush, you are pursuing each other naively and playfully.

Your smiles are getting bigger as you gaze at one another, but his is weaker, more fragile, as in ‘until the piece I composed gets your pass, I am afraid.’

You close your eyes because you don’t have enough in you to match that.

The outside world ceases to matter as the ambient composition intensifies and begins to resolve inside you.

You explode at the slightest touch from a ‘soft boy’ who leans in close and tries to listen through your headphones.

Since he also expressed dissatisfaction over never having heard the music, you try to be understanding and let him into your space too. He was unable to listen to it earlier due to the ‘it is not completed’ statements. This was his chance. And so, you acknowledge that this evening, everything came together to allow the two of you to feel the excitement of being the first to hear something so exquisite.

The storm itself, you can swear, ceased.

Though the sound of life is muffled by the composition in your eardrums, you can somewhat hear three heartbeats pounding in time with the music. It feels as though nothing matters and yet everything has led up to this.

‘Music boy’ watches your reactions as both of you remain silent, neither of you speaking to disturb the bliss.

This rescue is slow-moving and pleasant compared to Tokyo’s fast life. You find a brief moment of inner tranquility after so much running, fury at the weather, and anger towards the electronic device in your back pocket.

Entirely, you lose yourself in the song, and the way your lashes curl to soften the likely pictures that appear beneath your lids is proof of this. It seems that even in Tokyo, things can come to a stop.

Like a drop of rain in the countryside, your smile is sincere and pure. That is what he has composed, and that is what this is. He has awakened that within you.

Clarity and translucence—opposing to the densely scented city air, which is heavy with the smell of burned street meat and motor oil.

As distinct as the boys standing next to you, everything has a raw beauty.

When you turn to face the taller one, you find that your noses are almost in contact because of how close the headphones have brought his face to yours.

His most beautiful features are dripping with admiration as he gives you the thumbs up. Although you find the signal confusing, you nod because you think it is abrupt and cute.

Upon turning to face the musical prodigy as you currently perceive him—you having no prior knowledge of him—he grins more than ever.

With great anticipation, he asks, “And!?”

“I wish I had a better word to describe it, but it is rather majestic. The melody is lovely and seems to pour love and tranquility indefinitely. It made me feel better. Basically, thank you, is all I have to say.”

“It truly did the same for me,” remarks the tall guy, nodding. “You know, he never lets us listen to his music,” he adds, moving in closer to give the younger person a sweet shoulder shake. “This guy!!”

They both laugh it off, just like they did when they walked in beside you. They are unaware that, with those smiles, they have taken everything from you. However, as soon as you peek at the bus in the distance, read aloud your hotel’s street address, and confirm that it is your route, their smiles become lifeless and hollow almost instantly. In the same instant, the hope that they both brought about vanishes. There is a bittersweet sensation.

Even though you all know the end is near, it seems like no one anticipated it.

All of it comes crashing down: the rain, the hope, the magic, and all three of your desperate sets of eyes that cannot stop staring into each other’s faces. Each microsecond, millisecond, and second matters. Everything was brief at first, then prolonged, and finally just brief again.

“It’s time to return this,” you utter as you remove the cardigan.

Given how chilly the owner’s hands are once you skin-brush them, the wool should feel even warmer in his hands after you return it.

“You must have frozen because of me,” you point out, brows knitted in concern. “I am so sor—”

“No, I am fine, don’t apologize,” he cuts in, unlocking the umbrella as he comes to his senses and accepts the arrival of reality. To protect you from the rain until you board the bus, he says, “Here,” giving you room to move under the umbrella.

Initially, you pout, believing that rejecting him would be best, but eventually, you stop yourself and follow his instructions exactly. It’s time to savor every moment, even if it’s just spending a little time together under an umbrella, before you part ways with them and never see them again.

You remove your headphones and give them back to the cutest prodigy you have ever met. “You should start having more faith in the things you create. That was really beautiful.”

“Thank you!!” The umbrella boy exclaims in his name. “Someone at last to make him begin to realize.”

The younger boy defends himself, smiling, “Shut up.” And, even though he’s well aware that the umbrella was never meant to fit both of them, much less three people, he’s still attempting to squeeze himself under it.

You guys are all biting smiles; there is such innocence and purity to the compressed situation all of you are in. This feeling is far more intense than what you experienced as a teenager witnessing your crash in the hallways. Greater than the scorching feeling you experienced on your first kiss. Which, on the other hand, makes this even more heartbreaking than the first time your heart broke. There is something odd about it all, and it has been a long day at that.

You stay sandwiched between their bodies, which rise on both sides of you as sturdy as a brick wall. You regretfully realize that you cannot be imprisoned between them forever, even though for a brief moment you wish you could.

You can sense the peculiar chemistry has subdued the storm, and it even appears to be stopping the rain. And as it draws near the bus stop, the bus finally lets out its sharp, piercing ‘pissss’ sound. You’re thinking somewhere in the back of your mind about how this sound is going to become your least favorite sound. The noise that will always bother you the most because it’s ruining something so beautiful.

When you look into their faces, all you see is gold dust smeared in their eyes. “I’m glad our paths crossed,” you eventually admit.

They return with the same admiration, though with a sorrowful smile.

They wait until after you get on the bus. They wait for you to get comfortable, knowing that you will take their side and catch your farewell look out the window.

That is precisely what you do; you approach the first seat with that same thought in mind. Rain cascades down the glass, and the windows are a little foggy and difficult to see through due to the warmth inside.

Inside and around your heart, there is a heavy, funny feeling. You make an effort to clear the fog from the window but the moment feels so so hopeless as the bus starts to move. In actuality, all you’re doing is wiping the mist as you attempt to wave goodbye and get a good look at them for the last time. Still, it’s too late.

All that is left to do is gaze for a brief while at the vanishing landscape, registering absolutely nothing.

Finally, you tilt your head back and sigh at the biggest sigh ever. There is a distant echo of a Japanese woman’s voice coming from the bus radio. When you turn on your phone, the first thing you see is your camera folder.

It’s inexplicable why you thought it was necessary to take a picture of them with your phone while simultaneously taking one with theirs. You are left puzzled, staring at the most recent two pictures in your folder.

‘Love is a captured moment,’ you used to say. You get the impression that life is making fun of you.

It becomes really annoying to swipe between the two photos. Their boyfriend vibe is unmatched. Imagination takes over. It seems as though you have never desired anything more.

You carefully touch the screen to enlarge the images, capturing their faces with your fingertips. The attractive strangers in the photos are names you will never know.

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cat-and-fox-hub · 1 month

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Exclusive Night

Made by Cat, aka Researcher Serif/AW

A somber tune, a blessed night; his screen crackles softly as he sits, more than content with you asleep in his arms. Dear beloved, know that he will shed his coat for you and you alone. It's easy to forsake the sea of static lights if it meant staying by your side. (The love he holds for you spares no expense.)

Who doesn't wanna be cuddled by a large TV unit who cradles and holds you so warmly yet protectively like a precious treasure to be kept safe?

Just like every other OC I have, there's almost no introduction to my goobers as they just suddenly slide into your peripherals lol.

Anywaes for those that don't know, meet [L_TM-WF4335], aka, Gin! My quiet, most handsomest large TV boi!

Main things to know 'bout him is that his head tends to shift in model/type every so often, he always covers up one way or another, he loves his precious savior, you, deeply, and he'll never part with his coat if he can help it.

(You're the only exception. Beloved dearest, guiding star of his life.)

For those that know of my goober (lookin at u @lens-guy-art /silly), we got a lil puzzle for u. Gin is partially inspired by a Celtic being in its mythos, there's hints in the flavor text and here, what do u think it is? U get cookies if u rite!

Either wae, hope u enjoy this Jouice™ of ours!

(_ ˶^ ヮ^˶)/ ♬♪

(Also, psst! TV Enjoyer Extraordinaire™ @lensman-arms-race, mayhaps this beest something thou wouldst enjoy? /silly)

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Check out my main blog: @researcher-serif

Here's my NSFW blog if that tickles your fancy: @grandfather-of-sin

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#all reblogs are appreciated!#no art thieves allowed #do not repost #without permission at least #mine art #[L_TM-WF4335] | Gin OC #reader insert #viewer insert #alliance x reader #technically lol #His arm's a bit jank but i did this round midnight jvhasdw #died over the coloring again lmao #(curse my tendency for using monochrome colors!!)#I also actually have his profile over on my artfight but meh #I'll get around givin him an official post #(read: in 7 years time /hj)

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sweetkpopmusings · 2 years

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seungcheol boyfriend headcanons <3

a/n: posting boyfriend seungcheol hcs next, as requested ! seungcheol just makes me feel so safe !! i won't lie -- it took me a while to write this because i would think about bf seungcheol and feel so warm that all i wanted to do was curl up in a comfy blanket and watch my favorite tv show :,-) pics not mine <3

content: fluff | wc: 1.3k | warnings: none! | pairing: boyfriend!seuncheol x gn!reader | requests: open

i desperately want to be a silly billy and make seungcheol act dramatic so i can fawn over just how precious he is <333 what a goofy lil guy !!!

seungcheol is 100% boyfriend material and the bestest boy

he is SO competitive

he's actually MORE competitive with you because he loves you the most and is so very comfortable with you !!

seungcheol makes competitions out of anything and everything

carrying groceries into your place ?? whoever carries the most bags and the quickest is declared grocery royalty

watching a movie together ?? whoever can guess the plot accurately has movie-picking privileges for the rest of the year

definitely loves playing kids games with you and, if you're into it, drinking games and by that i mean the s.coups game

he gets MAJOR heart eyes if you get even just a lil competitive with him

if you get properly heated during a game/competition ?? he's losing it !!!! (his mind, not the game ofc)

if you beat him at anything, he'll complain and be a lil baby, but he's actually proud of and impressed by you and will brag about it to seventeen because "my partner is the best at everything" <333

i see him holding hands by linking pinkies

it's lowkey but also cute and it gives him all the butterflies that only you can stir up in him

loves it when you'll lean into his side when you're walking like that

it's such a lighthearted and sweet type of physical contact that it makes him absolutely weak in the knees :,-)

it makes him feel young at heart, and he cherishes puppy love as much as he cherishes more mature/grownup love

he also melts when you lean on his shoulder

seungcheol will kiss the top of your head every. single. time.

no room for negotiation on that one because he cannot resist it or you because you are simply too cute

he also loves being babied

if you hold his face in both your hands, he's looking at you with sparkling heart eyes

and he is lost in a giggling fit

he's such a laughy boy <3 he cannot contain his happiness when he's with you !!

also cannot contain the blushing that comes whenever you compliment him, especially when you call him cute

his ears are guaranteed to be pink if you call him a nickname too !

he will laugh at super sweet petnames, but his favorites are special nicknames that only you two share

they're based off an inside joke, a special moment from your relationship, and/or your favorite qualities about each other :,-)

seungcheol will never ever admit the extent to which he loves being babied, but he'll literally hold you in place if you're cuddling and you get up

his face will stay unchanged, save for a small upward turn of his lips, and he is holding on for DEAR. LIFE.

he's a teddy bear covered in super glue and it's all for you <3

he's just so cozy !!! and he thinks you're the coziest person in the whole world !!! both for his heart and for cuddling

one time he told you this when he was very sleepy and had a super blissful smile on his face <3 you will never let him live it down <3

he'll groan every time you bring it up but he won't deny that it's true

seungcheol is also a big fan of matching loungewear, specifically hoodies

he simply adores casual couple behavior

to him, it's perfect because it shows off how comfortable you are with each other, and he loves matching with you when you're alone together because it adds to the specialness of the time and space you share

also really enjoys wearing some kind of matching clothes when y'all are hanging out with friends because it's a subtle way to show off to everyone that you two are An Item

not that they need a reminder because he talks about you constantly and you two look at each other with so much love and joy in your eyes <33

if and when the members tease y'all about your couple outfits and adorable behavior, seungcheol will flat out tell them that they're jealous

and he's right LOL

definitely married couple vibes from you two because you're just so relaxed and content with each other in every way

there’s a security and a deep understanding and trusting connection you share

he is absolutely the best shoulder to cry on

literally that one verse in 기대 when he’s asking for a name of everyone/everything that made you cry is how he feels whenever something's hurting you please i want him to protect me

seungcheol gets fired up when you’re upset because he is so frustrated at the fact there are things/people in this world that dare to upset you, the love of his life

regardless of how >:-( he gets when someone or something has caused you a lot of stress, he will be so soft and tender when comforting you and caring for you in hard times

seungcheol is extremely protective of you and will constantly work to protect and support you in the ways that you need <3

he also asks you to protect and support him when things get hard or overwhelming because you’re the only person he feels he can rely on 100% of the time

he doesn’t have to be strong for you all the time because he knows you’ll love him even when he can’t be strong :-( i'm crying

he feels so safe with you, and you two will always be at each other's side, through the best and the worst of times

i do see him as someone who lowkey loves hating the people/things you hate LMAO

not in a super serious way, but he will always hype you up when you’re venting about That One Person

in the same vein, he loves to love the people/things you like

he gets so excited whenever you’re excited !!

he will in fact squeal if he’s celebrating good news with you or if that one couple in a show you’re watching finally get together he’s so soft and cute i’m screaming

going back to seugcheol, you, and hoodies

seungcheol loves to see you in his hoodies/shirts/hats/etc but complains about you stealing them LMAO

when you try to give them back, he acts hurt

“why do you want to give them back?? are they not high enough quality for you??”

and you’re like ??? "cheol, jeonghan told me you complained about not having your favorite hoodie for at least fifteen minutes, so i’m giving you back your favorite hoodie"

he’s blushing and trying extremely hard to keep his annoyed face when he replies, “FINE.”

secretly he’s happy he gets to wear something that smells like you, and slowly but surely there’s a rotation of his clothes in your closet, switching them out when he “needs” them back for an outfit

aka he is taking them with him on tour or when his schedules mean he won’t be able to see you very often so he can at least have something with him that reminds him of you

tbh he's pretty cheesy in this regard and in many other ways but he tries to act tsundere and it just comes out so cute <3

seungcheol is such a laughy boy

he loves to be playful with you

sometimes he mocks you in a childish voice, especially if you're having a playful argument about something dumb, but then laughs cutely right after so you’re not THAT mad

it frequently happens that you both get stuck in a loop of mocking each other's voices like children on the playground and after far too long of it going on you two burst into hysterical laughter

don't be surprised if seungcheol says, "i love you" after he catches his breath and wipes his tears once the laughing fit has passed

you're the only person who can make him laugh like that and it fills his heart with more joy than you could imagine :,-)

seungcheol is the sweetest, most solid partner in the world. he adores you, and he will never let you forget that because you are his favorite person in the world !!

brb i'm going to run as fast as i can to seungcheol so i can give him a big hug and thank him for existing :,-)

i hope everyone gets the seungcheol they deserve <3

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