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celestie0 · 8 months ago

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choso x reader | punk rock au [18+]

in another life ch.1 cupid's arrow

ᰔ pairing. punk rock au - bass player! choso x reader (f)

ᰔ summary. you and choso were lovers in college when him and his rock band were just nobodies with nothing but a dream, but when his band strikes a deal with an up-and-coming record label in tokyo, you make the tough decision to break up with him since you couldn’t go with him to the city. flash forward seven years, his band is the biggest rock band in the world, n you move from the countryside to tokyo with your fiancé nanami to start your new life together. but in the heart of the city, home to many, there’s one person there that still has the power to turn your whole life upside down. and when you run into him again after all those years, feelings you didn’t know were still haunting you come crashing back all at once, and you’re not sure what it is you want from your life anymore.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, punk rock au, partying, drinking/alcohol, weed usage, cigarette usage, romance, slow burn, friends to lovers, second chance romance, time skips, love triangle, bad boy choso, slight age gap (five yrs), longterm pining, jealousy, messy decisions, you know the drill

ᰔ chapter. 1/x (probably 6)

ᰔ words. 10.2k

a/n. hellooooo aaa welcome to my new choso fic :'') i'm so excited for this one! i'm just laughing at how i cannot just stick to a oneshot idea and somehow end up planning out a fullblown series instead hahah. but anyways, i hope you enjoy! thank you to everyone that wanted to be on the taglist, i'm really looking forward to diving into this story. see you at the bottom!!

alsooo my m00tie @sykosugu and i decided to post for our fics at the same time hehe she has a really spicy suguru x reader fic called 'on the run' that i highly recommend so go check that out as well if you're interestedd <33

nav. ch1 :: ch2 (pending)

“and there was something about you that now, i can’t remember. it’s the same damn thing that made my heart surrender.”

present day. summer.

“We’re gonna miss you so, so, so much, love,” Mai groans, pulling you in towards her for a hug and you reciprocate with fondness.

Another pair of arms wraps around you, grip much tighter and you protest through a difficult breath. “Do you really have to go?” Nobara asks.

You tap on the skin of her arm, urging her to ease her hold in this group hug, and she finally relents and the three of you pull apart from one another. There’s a slight gasp from your lips as you breathe in fresh summer air. “I do, Nobie, I’m sorry. Nanami said it’s the final decision.”

You’re standing on hot concrete in front of a little countryside cottage that you’ve called home for years, but will soon just be a memory. You know which light switches illuminate corners of the rooms, and which creaking wood panels on the floor to avoid when looking for a midnight snack. It’s where you spent years studying for finals, arguing with your mom, learning how to care for Ms. Roxie, and it’s where you fell in love. More than once.

Your parents gave the house to you and Nanami once the two of you became engaged, but that blessing was soon to be given away, as Nanami received news six months ago that he was being promoted and relocated to Tokyo. Now, you have two bags in your hands, your purse slung around your shoulder, and a suitcase filled to the brim with the life you’ve tried to stuff in it. Your taxi driver has the other suitcase, because there were some things you couldn’t leave behind after all, and he’s putting it in the trunk right now.

“Nanami is so rude to take you from us,” Mai sighs, “but at least you’ll be one of those cool city girls now. So scary. I heard trends change faster there than the leaves on Rowan tree during spring.”

Nobara lets out a gasp that’s only half exaggerated. “No way! It can’t be!”

The taxi driver calls after you with a quick question, to which you answer back with a shout from where you stood. A quick glance at your watch tells you it’s time to get moving, as you’ll be taking a connecting train once you reach Tokyo that you need to be on time for. And then he’ll be there. Nanami will be waiting for you there, to lead you into the life that he’s started to make for the two of you.

“I’ll call so very often,” you promise the two of them, “and I will miss you two so very often as well.” Tears prickle in your eyes, and it seems to be contagious as they shimmer in Nobara and Mai’s eyes as well. Another group hug takes place between the three of you, harsh sun beating down with birds chirping in the distance as you try to take in the last few moments you’ve been granted of this place. “Take care of Roxie for us,” you say through a sniffle, “to you, it may seem like you’re only the bearer of food for her, but I promise that little kitty will love you two like no other.”

They both nod at you as you pull away, and you swipe at a tear that rolls down your cheek as you roll your suitcase down the pebbled walkway of your now past home.

The taxi driver helps hoist your suitcase into the trunk and places your other two bags into the back seat. You take a seat at the front with him, clicking the passenger seatbelt, and you roll down the window to wave bye with blown kisses as the taxi driver pulls away from the rocky mud road with crunching under the wheels. You watch Mai and Nobara and your home in the side view mirror until they’re no longer visible, but their voices of farewell linger in the air for a moment more.

“Alright, ma’am, bound for Tokyo!” your taxi driver chirps, his rough-looking hands opening and closing a few times to stretch out the joints of his fingers before tightly gripping onto the steering wheel again.

“Yes, Tokyo,” you murmur softly, gaze set out the window of the familiar street shops and stretches of patchy trees you know you’ll miss once you’re in the city.

“What’s your name?” the man asks, a thick country accent rolling off his tongue, with a sweetness like honey.

You turn your head to look at him more closely. The hair of his eyebrows is bushy, somewhat unkempt, and he has thick lines across his cheeks and forehead that can only mean that he’s lived a lot of life.

You tell him your name and he nods slowly as the two of you stop at a through road, a few school children hurrying past before he turns right onto the main road. “That’s a nice name. Which one of your parents gave it to ya?”

“Um. Both of them?”

He lets out a noise of acknowledgement, and doesn’t ask a further question. You smooth out the fabric of your long skirt with a hand, then toy with the band of your simple watch. Just when you think a comfortable silence has fallen between the two of you, and you think you have the luxury of losing yourself in your thoughts with sights beyond the polished glass window, the man speaks up again.

“Alright then, miss, tell me a story.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Pardon?”

“We’re gonna be spendin’ three hours in this car together, darlin’. It’s either I talk your ear off or you talk mine off,” he says, broad shoulders rolling backwards once as he gets comfortable in his driving position.

“Uh…do we need to talk at all?”

He glances over at you for a moment. The car wheels grind over rocks on gravel road near an agricultural field, and his fingers flex once again on the wheel. “You younger generations are so stuck in your own worlds. Entertain some conversation with the poor old taxi driver, will ya?”

You sigh, folding your hands in your nap neatly. “Alright. I don’t really have many stories to tell, though.”

“A young lady like you, packin’ up her whole life to move to a big city? I beg to differ,” he counters.

His words have you tucking your bottom lip under your teeth, a few blinks of your eyelids to process his observation of you. Your mind searches for stories to tell. Maybe that moment last week when you watched a momma duck waddle across a bridge with all seven of her baby ducklings. Or maybe you could tell him about that time you drove your car into a ditch the night of the comet festival and you swear you saw a UFO in the sky. The story you’ve been telling a lot lately, though, was the one of how Nanami proposed.

But then there’s a different story that comes to mind. With hazy images of blinding stage lights in dim venues, cigarette smoke wafting through the air, sounds of bass and drums and cheers. Smell of dry grass, the feeling of your back against a blanket, heart beating fast underneath the stars in front of a twinkling lake. And forever in your memory, the patterns of his inked skin.

“You got a boyfriend?” the man asks, suddenly.

“Are…are you hitting on me?” you ask awkwardly.

“Oh, no, ma’am,” he shakes his head, lifting his left hand up from the steering wheel and turning the back of it to face you. A silver ring adorning his fourth finger shimmers from the reflected sunlight through the window. “Happily married. Been with my missus for 22 years.”

A small smile makes its way onto your face as you relax into your seat a little, feeling calmer. “Oh, I see. I’m sorry for assuming. And I have a fiancé, actually.”

“Oh?” he chirps, stealing a quick glance at your left hand that was still folded neatly underneath your right one in your lap. “How come I’m not seein’ a ring?”

You tug at the small chain around your neck, a chill felt as diamond stone and cold metal drags against the skin of your sternum before you pull out your own promise of marriage, dangling it in front of your chest for him to steal another glance at. “I wear it around my neck. I’m a pottery teacher, so I usually take it off when showing my students any demos. I figured if I kept taking it off like that, I might lose it, so I just wear it around my neck now.”

“That’s interesting,” he comments, “It’s a real nice ring, that’s for sure! Tell me about this man you’re marryin.”

Your heart aches at the thought of Nanami. It’s been six months since you’ve seen him, since he relocated to Tokyo first, and you’ve missed him every day since. You were in the middle of the academic year at the elementary school you taught at, so they asked you to stay back, but Nanami had already accepted the promotion, thus the two of you made the decision that he would move to Tokyo first to get situated and you’d soon follow in the summer. It was a lot of stress to handle as just one person; searching for apartments on top of managing the heightened expectations from his boss from his new role, but he did it all without a complaint. Because he loves you, and that’s who Nanami was. Someone who would move mountains for you. He’s worked hard to make a place for you in Tokyo, one to call home.

“He really loves me,” you say to the man, softly.

“And you love him?”

“So much.”

“Was he your first love?”

Your breath catches in your throat from his question, a small chill running down your spine. The silence that settles could’ve lasted two seconds or two centuries, and you never would’ve known.

You lick your lips before answering. “No, he wasn’t.”

“Hmm…” the man hums. Bumpy roads are now smooth as he turns onto properly laid roads, the exit from your town onto intercity roads. “I can tell.”

“You can tell?” you ask, skeptic in your tone as you tilt your head at him.

“I can tell from your voice that there was someone else before. Someone who meant a whole lot to you, but he went away for some reason,” he says.

You’re not sure why there’s a lump in your throat from his words, a heavy thing with so much substance that it threatens to weigh your heart as well. Your eyes study the side of his face. “You’re getting all of that from my voice?”

The man’s expression is blank as if it were tabula rasa, something so different from the way you’ve felt for so long now, like your heart has been torn in two. There was something so tempting about it; the luxury of a clean slate. Of a new beginning. A fresh start. And it’s hard not to imagine how you would’ve painted things differently.

“Tell me about him,” the man says, the story he was looking for having been found. “Your first love.”

“He…” you start, shocked that you’re actually answering, but it’s like an invitation you can’t resist, “he was my first boyfriend…my first serious boyfriend. I met him the summer after high school. During a summer like this one.”

seven years ago. summer.

chapter 1. cupid’s arrow.

“C’mon, faster!” Mai exclaims, her hand wrapped around your wrist to tug you across the dim streets of downtown.

“Just— wait— Mai, please, slow down,” you’re stumbling after her, feet failing to keep up, and you almost crash right into her when she comes to a sudden halt on the sidewalk.

“This is it,” she says, staring up at the sporadically blinking neon lights of what appears to be a small venue, black marquee letters that spell out Backseat Serenade Tonight @ 10pm stand out to you in a way that feels haunting. “We’re so late, let’s head inside.”

Mai drags you inside, and the security guy is less than thrilled by the commotion as he stands in front of closed double doors. You can feel the bass of music vibrating the walls, accompanied by loud shrill screams and chants coming from inside, and the red velvet flooring underneath your feet fuel you with static as you two approach the man dressed in full black.

Mai fumbles with her purse to pull out her phone, and the man scans the barcoded tickets on her screen before giving the two of you wristbands to wear and then he opens the door for the two of you.

The inside of the venue is small but packed, minimal lighting save for moving lights that illuminate the band on stage, but it’s even harder to see anything over the heads of people with their hands up in the air. Mai’s grip on your forearm is tight as she roughly weaves the two of you through the crowd, determined in her gait but you feel the need to apologize to the people she’s shoving in the process. You’re surprised at how fast the two of you make it to the front barricades, thanks to Mai’s nimbleness alone, and your eyes raise to the scene onstage through wafting smoke through the air.

“Alright, alright, alright,” one of the band members chimes right as the final instrumentals of the song begin to fade. His hair is a pale silver under dusty lighting, pushed up from out of his face by a black headband snapped to his forehead, and his eyes are distinctly blue. He has an electric guitar hanging from his neck by a thick black strap. He raises both of his hands up into the air, waving them down a few times to calm down the crowd, and there are scattered hushes surrounding you and Mai. “This is our last song, and we just want to thank you all so much for coming out tonight! This crowd’s the best we’ve ever had!”

The people cheer in response as a light and relaxed melody begins to tune together from the instrumentals on stage. You hear Mai groan beside you. “What the fuck?! We missed the entire set?!”

Your hands curl around the cold metal of the barricade dividers and your eyes sweep across the stage. There’s a man in the far back with short black hair, bouncing his leg up and down as he’s seated behind a drum set, fidgeting with wooden sticks in his hands, and you’re puzzled by the fact that he’s wearing a very poorly fitted suit onstage. Off to the right, a man with pink hair is messing with the headphones snapped to his ears in front of an electric keyboard, spread fingers pressing down on chords, and you can vaguely see the black nail polish at the tips of his fingers. A woman with mid length blonde hair and pink highlights stands at the front, her hand wrapped around the mic resting on top of the stand. She’s laughing, tipping her head back at something else the electric guitar player says over the mic, but you’ve drowned out the words because your eyes finally land on what’s directly in front of you.

With an almost bored expression on his face, a man stands with a matte black bass guitar hung from his neck as he has one foot up on the top of a subwoofer located flush to the edge of the stage. His hair is raven black, longer at the nape of his neck with shorter layers scattered, and tendrils fall over his face. There’s a glint to his polished black shoes off of where you’re standing, and he’s wearing tight black jeans that cling to the thick and lean muscles of his calves and thighs, with a leather belt fastened around the circumference of his hips. The shirt that’s tucked into his jeans is just as tight to his skin, and a small gasp leaves your lips when you take in the sight of his arms covered in intricate patterns of ink. His right arm is practically covered from the wrist all the way up to the cut of his short sleeve, likely beyond, and his left arm has ink traveling up to his forearm only, like he’s still working on mapping it all out. You watch the way his biceps flex as he bends his arms, bringing his hands up to his face to push his hair back, and your heart is keeping fast rhythm with the music.

“Cho!” the woman at the front speaks into the mic, turning her head to look at this man who you’re sure is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. “You’ve hardly said a single word tonight, baby. Not that that’s unusual though. Why don’t you say a few words before we kick off the last song?”

A bunch of whoos!! and ahhhs!!! and yesss!!! scatter throughout the crowd in the form of cheers and you watch the man furrow his brows together, a scowl forming on his face. There’s a band of black underneath his eyes that runs across the bridge of his nose, with perpendicular lines resembling arrows running down his cheeks. Dark purple eyes that match the dark shadows around them glint under flickering stage lighting as he takes his foot off the speaker and walks a few steps backwards to position himself at his stationed mic.

“Fine,” he says, and you’re watching the way his lips barely brush against the mic as he speaks, “This is our last song. It’s called Lost Cause. Enjoy. Or don’t. It’s up to you. Who the fuck am I to tell you what to do.”

There’s only a slight beat of silence from the crowd before they’re cheering again, while his band members just stare at him stunned. The white-haired electric guitarist yells into his mic something like “THAT’S IT?!” before the drum player cuts him off with three taps of his sticks in the air, and then the song commences from them on practiced reflex.

The energy from the crowd is loud in the last few minutes of the show, smoke rising in the air from the machines spread across the raised stage, and you can’t tear your eyes away from the bass player. You rest your forearms on the cold metal in front of you, the sight of Mai jumping up and down in your periphery as she headbangs and shakes her hair.

The bass player’s eyes start to scan the venue within what seems to be the final chorus of the song, chin tipping up and fingers continuing to strum as he assesses the back of the crowd first, then gaze darting throughout the center, before he begins to study the front barricade. You watch his every movement, mapping the trail of his sight, and your heart skips a beat when those dark eyes finally fall on yours.

His eyes briefly flicker to your left, to continue his study of the crowd, but it’s as if his brain just registered something with a delay, and he quickly moves his gaze back to you in a double take. His eyes widen, bored expression quickly turned into one of surprise with a glint to his pupils, and you swear you’ve been struck by an arrow to your heart.

“Yaaaay! Thank you everyone!” the woman at the front exclaims, pulling her mic from the stand to walk around to make work of the crowd. The white-haired man approaches the edge of the stage with a pleased grin on his face, high-fiving all of the outstretched arms, and the man at the keyboard simply waves a few times before incessantly tuning buttons on his headphones. Drum boy hasn’t stopped playing some sort of loud rhythm as an encore. Your sight is set back onto the bass player, and he’s looking off somewhere else now. Somewhere backstage.

“Hey!” the white-haired man exclaims once he’s made it in front of the two of you. “Mai! You made it!”

She reaches out to grab his forearm, tugging down harshly so he’s stumbling and dropping one knee to the stage floor, kneeling. “Of course I was gonna make it! Thanks for the tickets,” she’s yelling over loud ambient cheers and music, “this is my friend y/n, by the way. Oh, and this is Gojo, he’s the guy I was telling you about.”

You nod at him, and try to accept his outstretched hand when someone bumps you from behind and your hand is in favor of stabilizing yourself over the divider instead.

You can barely hear the laugh from Gojo’s position on the raised stage. “Just meet us backstage! We can chat for a bit with proper introductions and all.”

As the crowd begins to dissipate with people moving through the sets of double doors out back, Gojo hops off stage to take you and Mai through a side door that leads into a hallway that lines the back of the stage. You look up into the high ceilings with metal structural poles banding between the walls, and the dim yellow lighting in small bulbs bolted to the walls like a runway remind you of movie theater exit routes.

“So, what’d you guys think of the show?” Gojo asks, his arms raised up and hands interlocked behind his neck in a casual-not-so-casual way as he sends the two of you a lazy look over his shoulder.

“Well, we only made it for one song since miss barista over here was running late from her shift,” she sighs, whacking your arm once with the back of her hand. You glance down and realize you didn’t even have the time to take your frilled and wrinkled apron off. “But, from what we did get to hear, AMAZING! AWESOME! SPECTACULAR!”

Gojo is grinning wide as he turns around to face the two of you, continuing to walk but backwards as he slaps the raised hand that Mai had in the air for him. “I’m so glad, I felt the pressure to please was high since I’ve been hyping up our shows to you for so long.”

“We’ve only known each other for like two weeks.”

“I know. But PSYCH 210 lecture at the ass crack of dawn really brings two people together, y’know.”

Mai and Gojo continue to laugh and talk about random things college-related, and there’s a stirring feeling in your chest that you’re surrounded by people older and much more well-lived than you. You’ve just graduated high school, barely a few months ago, but Mai was a few years older than you, so any time she tries to introduce you to her college friends, you feel the need to perform or be someone that you’re not so they’ll like you, despite the fact that you’re aware of the fallacy in that. And tonight, that responsibility feels much more daunting for some reason.

There are voices heard further down the hall, and as you approach, you notice the drum guy, keyboard guy, and devilishly handsome bass guy are all loitering around in that area, along with a few other people they seemed to have invited backstage.

Gojo walks up to them, grabbing onto the bass man’s hand firmly before patting him on the back, then slings his arms around the other two. “This is Higurama,” he says, rubbing the top of the black-haired guy’s head with the knuckles of his fist, “he does drums for us. And this is Sukuna,” he says, about to repeat the same gesture to the top of his head but his wrist is grabbed and twisted, “ow, fuck, fuck, fuck– sorry.” Sukuna lets go of his wrist, scowl dissipating into sadistic amusement, and Gojo’s holding his wrist, now slightly red from the burn, with a pout on his face. “He does the keyboard. And all the techno sounds. And some other stuff I’ve frankly no fucking clue about.”

The two of them acknowledge you and Mai, along with the few other people who Gojo seems to know as well, and then Gojo’s approaching the bass player again before resting his elbow up on his shoulder, leaning his weight onto him and the man just crosses his arms across his chest, sending Gojo a side-eye. “Mai, I think you two have met before, but this is Choso. Choso Kamo, our bass player. Best bass player I’ve ever known to be honest. Be careful though, he might bite you.”

Choso scowls, rolling his shoulder back once to get rid of Gojo’s resting elbow. His eyes are on yours, boring into you deep, and when he darts his tongue out briefly to wet his bottom lip, you finally notice the silver lip ring near the corner of his mouth. “Hi. Nice to meet you,” he says, hand outstretched and you shake it with a mention of your name to him. The skin on his fingers feel rough from play, a small sacrifice to pay for the talent he’s harnessed over the years from plucking at strings. His eyes sweep down you once. “Why are you dressed like Strawberry Shortcake?”

“I–” you start, glancing down at your attire and feeling the heat pool in your cheeks, “I just got off a work shift. I work at a cafe.”

“Oh,” he responds, and you notice his hand is still holding onto yours, Your eyes trail the patterns on his skin, visible in more detail up close, and you find yourself lost in every line and swirl and scale and skull and cross, the only thing breaking you out of your trance being Mai’s jab of her elbow to your ribcage.

You gasp, snatching your hand away from Choso, and when you look up at his face, there’s a hint of amusement on it.

“Babes, he was asking you a question,” Mai says, looking between you and the man in front of you.

“Huh?” you ask, suddenly flustered and you swipe your palm down your work apron to wipe the sweat that begins to perspire at your palm from the lingering heat of his hand.

“I was asking if you liked the show,” Choso says, tilting his head to the side and now he’s allowing his eyes to travel all across you in any way he wants.

“I loved it,” you respond, almost breathlessly, “it was great. I mean– we only saw, like, one song. But still, really amazing.”

“Only one song?” Choso asks, his eyebrow raising, “that’s a shame. You’ve gotta come to more shows then.”

Before you can respond, there’s a feminine voice heard down the hallway, sounding an awful lot like the one echoing off the speakers inside the concert venue, and then the blond woman who was the lead singer of the band skips right up to the group formulating in this hallway before wrapping her arms around Choso’s neck and pulling him down towards her in a kiss.

You’re standing there stunned, eyes immediately averting from the scene of the two of them in front of you, but in the corner of your eye you can see his arm wrap around her waist briefly before he pulls her away from him, and the release of her lips from his makes a sound that for some reason creates a pit in your stomach.

“Cho, baby, I just had an insane conversation,” she says, still practically hanging from his neck as she stands on tiptoes, “with this record label guy. He’s apparently hot shit in Tokyo, and he wants to offer us this city gig ‘cause he thinks we’re a potential sign-on, and–”

Choso’s hand reaches to the back of his neck, gripping around her wrist to pull it apart from her other one, and then her arms fall to her sides and her heels flatten to the ground as she blinks up at him. “That’s cool, Sana, but can we talk about that later?”

Gojo’s arms cross his chest as he leans forward, glaring at the woman. “Yeah. And as a band, not just with your lover.”

Sana rolls her eyes and scoffs, placing curled hands low on her hips. “He’s not my lover, bitch. Unless he’s my lover like you’re lovers with a blunt on a sunday– sucked off in a car ‘cause you’ve got nothing better to do.”

“That’s offensive to both of us,” Gojo grumbles but Choso just sighs, unbothered, as he rubs at the back of his neck. He makes eye contact with you again, and his expression sobers as though he forgot for a second that you were still standing there.

Sana turns to you and Mai. “Hi, I’m Sana, nice to meet you guys. Sorry, I thought you two were some of our other friends, otherwise I wouldn’t have kissed Cho in front of you. I hate PDA, trust me.”

Mai lets out an awkward laugh as she shakes her hand, and you almost don’t want to shake her hand, but you do just to be polite.

“You didn’t hate PDA that one time I was about to bag the girl I’d been talking to for weeks and you decided to grind your sorry excuse of an ass right up against me in front of her,” Gojo grumbles.

She waves a dismissive hand in the air. “Whatever, she thought you were gay anyways. Would’ve done yourself a favor if you actually grabbed my ass.”

She ignores the insulted gesture Gojo makes, cutting off whatever words he was about to spew with words of her own. “What are you girls doing after this? We’re having a post-show party, you two should come.” She glances at you. “Uh, love, I’d ditch the apron though. Unless it’s, like, some sort of fetish for you.”

You’re defeated as your arms cross your torso to grip the hem of your apron and pull it up over your head, shaking your head a bit to allow your hair to fall back into place, and then you fold the frilly article of clothing neatly before hanging it over your arm. “It’s not,” you sigh, too exhausted to be subject to the title of your occupation anymore. A small flicker of your eyes to Choso tells you he’s staring at you.

Sana shrugs. “So you pretty ladies wanna come?”

Mai shakes her head. “No, sorry, my baby here,” she says, wrapping her arm around yours tightly, “just graduated high school recently, so she’s too young for a party. I’ve got a responsibility to look after her. And throwing her into a room full of sleazy drunk punk college dudes is the opposite of looking after her.”

Sukuna comes around, leaning his arm against the wall, smirk on his face, as he eyes you like you’re something to steal. “Just graduated high school? So you just turned eighteen, sweetheart?”

Mai glares daggers at him. “Get the fuck away from her, Super Senior. You’re icky. Also, case in point proven.”

Sana whacks the back of Sukuna’s head, and he all but growls at her. “Stop being creepy,” she reprimands him before turning to Mai again. “No, I swear, it’s not like that. It’s chill, minimal alcohol. No drugs. Just a small get-together with a few of our fellow friends, and friends of fellow friends, from the music scene.” She leans against Choso’s arm, wide eyes looking up at him, but he doesn’t lean into her. “Right, Cho? No scary guys for her to worry about?”

His eyes narrow at you, raking down your figure again, and his chest moves a little faster with his breath. “I’m against it. It’s no place for an eighteen-year-old. You’re a fucking idiot for trying to invite a girl who just recently graduated from highschool to a house party. She’s practically a kid.”

Your heart sinks from his words, and you feel juvenile standing in front of him, in a way that makes you angry and embarrassed at the same time, and you can’t bite back the words in time, “Whatever, at least I haven’t been on crack since the day I was born like you probably were.”

Almost all heads in this small hallway snap to you, if they weren’t already there before, wide eyes blinking before Gojo bursts out into a laugh, which dominoes into Mai’s laughter, and you barely register the way Sana looks you up and down once before forcing a smile. Choso’s surprised expression turns into a disgruntled one as he crosses his arms across his chest, and you can’t help but watch the stretch of his inked skin over his muscles as they flex.

“I’ve never done crack, shortcake, and your lame insult only proves my point on your immaturity,” he scowls, leaning his upper body forward towards you, and his gaze briefly drops to your lips.

Sana comes in between the two of you, pressing herself up against him to get him away, and he takes an involuntary step back and now he’s scowling at her too. She turns around to face you, and there’s that forced smile again. “Uh, y’know what, sweets? Cho is sooo totally right, no place at all for a—I’m sorry, how old did you say you were?”

“Eighteen,” you say with a slight grit to your teeth.

“Oh! Yeah, no place for you, sorry,” she says, with a small jut of her bottom lip to signal a pout.

You roll your eyes at her, then glance past her at Choso who’s looking at you like he’s still got a few retaliating words for you on his tongue, but then he’s dropping his gaze to the neckline of your shirt, eyeing the shape of your breasts, even dipping further down your legs and you let out a scoff.

“You sure enjoy checking me out for someone you think is practically a kid,” you spit back.

He’s not angry this time, the corner of his mouth simply tipping up slightly into a smirk. “I meant you’re too young to drink, but you’re old enough to fuck, so spare me the attitude.”

Your cheeks flush at his comment, nonetheless made in front of a group of people who were practically strangers to you, and you’re about to give him a piece of your mind when Mai grabs your forearm and Gojo places himself between you and jerkface.

“Woah! Look at the time,” Gojo chirps, glancing at his wrist that was absent of any time-telling device but he rolls with it anyway, “should probably head out now, since the venue’s closing soon. Y’know, grab our stuff.”

Mai nods her head at you in response to his words, sending a single glare Choso’s way before exchanging some pleasantries with Gojo and then dragging you down the hallway with her towards the exit.

“Hey–” you begin to complain, her grip on you starting to hurt, and you eventually yank your arm away from her before she opens the backdoor exit. “Let’s go to that party.”

Mai sighs, leaning her back against the door and crosses her arms. “No way. Your mom wanted me to get you home before midnight,” she says as she glances at the time on her phone, “and it’s close to midnight.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m an adult now, I don’t have to adhere to a midnight curfew, like I’m fucking Cindarella.”

Mai raises an eyebrow at you from the profanity, recognizing the fact that it’s something you just forced into your vocabulary in a way that doesn’t suit you. “I already said no.”

“Take me or else I’m going to tell your mom about the nipple piercings you got last week.”

Mai hisses a sharp breath through her teeth. “You’re a bitch.”

“Take me,” you deadpan.

She tilts her head back so that it hits the metal of the door, and then she’s pushing her back against it to open it, the rush of cold wind from outside brushing past the two of you as she steps into the night and you follow her. “Oh my god, fine. But only for a little bit, and let’s get the lie straight right now–you had explosive diarrhea at the concert so I couldn’t take you home right away since you were incapacitated in the restrooms.”

“What? Why do I have to be the one with explosive diarrhea?” you ask, frown on your face but there’s a skip to your step as you follow her down the street to where she very poorly parallel parked and you open the passenger side door. She doesn’t bother answering you as she settles into the driver’s seat and her car roars to life with a few struggling turns of the key in ignition.

“No drinking,” Mai says, voice strict with eyes locked on yours, and it’s the last thing she says before she starts driving.

The house is just a few miles from the venue location, and Mai seems to have been there before since she turns the navigation off once she turns onto a street that has her driving switch to from perusal to more casual.

Gojo is the one to greet you two at the door with wide eyes and a drink in his hand. You notice he’s changed out of his stage attire into something more casual, and likely in a rush too since his hair is disheveled, and you figured that you and Mai barely got here after they did. The surprised look on his face is quick to turn into a pleased one at the sight of the two of you. “Oh sweet you two actually came,” he comments, waving a hand for you two to come inside, “figured Kamo would’ve scared you off.”

You roll your eyes, “where is that jerk? I still have a few choice words for him.”

“Babes, let it go,” Mai sighs, “Not worth your time.”

“I concur,” Gojo says, “but, if you really want, he’s upstairs putting some of my stuff he borrowed for tonight’s show back into my room. You can…” he glances down at you once, “uh. Cuss him to death? Or whatever you can manage, I guess. But just don’t fuck on my bed, please. That’s my only rule.”

“Why do you sound like that’s a rule you’ve had to make often?” Mai scoffs, amused, while your cheeks feel hot.

Gojo slumps his shoulders in some type of comical defeat. “I don’t wanna talk about it…” he mumbles, voice trailing off and turning on his heel to walk away while Mai follows him off with more follow-up questions he doesn’t seem receptive to answering.

Your eyes glance over to the staircase, studying for a moment as loud party music fills your ears before making your way over and up the steps. As you head down the hallway leading into bedrooms, the floorboards creak until your sneakers even over soft carpet, and you hear soft sounds of clattering off to the left. There’s a door that’s half ajar leading into a warmly lit room, and you deftly peek your head through the opening.

Choso stands near the foot of the bed inside a messy room, black boxes and cases and wires surrounding him as he fumbles with unplugging some sort of audio station pad from another piece of hardware. His hand grips tightly around the thick black rubber coating of the wire, and you watch the flex of his knuckles that tense the veins running up his arm, sleeve of the shirt he’s worn all night stretching to accommodate the roll of muscle at his upper arm. With a solid yank, the chord releases itself before the wire whacks him straight in the face and he grumbles a fuck under his breath and he rubs the skin of his cheek, to which you can’t help but let out a small laugh at the sight of.

His furrowed and frustrated expression turns into surprise as his eyes flicker to the entrance of the room. He stands up straight, and then there’s that bored expression again. “Oh. Shortcake. I thought I said you’ve got no business being here.”

“Yeah, about that, I’m waiting for you to apologize to me,” you say, leaning sideways against the doorframe as you cross your arms over your chest.

He sighs, eyes moving away from yours to busy himself with the jungle of equipment he’s practically drowning in, as if he couldn’t be bothered by your presence right now. “Apologize for what?”

You make your way inside the room, foot pushing aside anything sprawled on the floor that’s in your way so you can continue to approach him, and you stop just when you’re just a step away. His gaze is still set to the ground as he’s crouched over slightly, but it shifts from the speaker he was toying with to the shape of your shoes instead.

“Apologize to me for being so crass,” you say, “after we had just met.”

He slowly straightens his spine, and you’re a little shocked to find the height that he has on you. His expression is curious, eyes narrowing slightly like he has you all figured out already, and it pisses you off. “Crass is such a prissy word to use, princess. Try ‘apologize to me for being a massive dick’ or something, and I’ll start to take you more seriously.”

“Why are you so rude?” you ask, anger building up inside of you all of a sudden. “I’ve barely met you, I don’t see how I could’ve upset you in any way. Yet you’ve already insulted me in multiple ways tonight, and it’s not a cool look for you. Trust me.”

“You’re the one that basically called me a crackhead,” he counters, but there’s no real offense behind it.

“Yeah, because you called me a kid,” you say, face tightening even further with anger, “even though I’m an adult.”

He sighs, closing his eyes in irritation, and tilts his head up to look at the ceiling briefly as his mouth hangs slightly open, all as if he’s running thin of the capacity to deal with this conversation, and then he looks back down at you again. “Shortcake, I didn’t call you a kid ‘cause of your age. I called you a kid ‘cause you’re just so–” he starts, eyes traveling down your body paired with a vague gesture of his hand towards all of you, and you find yourself shifting on your feet to stand a little more poised, “you just seem so innocent and clueless and, uh, forgive me, naive.”

“You’re the clueless one here if you still think negging a girl will get you anywhere with her,” you say, hands clenched in fists at your side now.

There’s a hint of a smirk on his face as he tilts his head at you, some of his dark hair falling over his forehead from the motion and a few strands weave with his eyelashes. “I’m not trying to get anywhere with you here, sweetheart, unless you’re wanting that,” he says, voice almost purred at the end as he steps over a guitar case on the floor to get closer to you.

You’re unable to make eye contact with him when he’s close and you can smell the earthy notes of his cologne, mixed with another scent that seems more distinctly him that makes your head spin. Your gaze takes in the sight of his forearm, the one with scattered tattoos trailing up his arm but not yet fully inked in. You wonder what he’s saving the space for, and what he’s willing to let in.

When your gaze flickers up to his face again, you’re a little surprised to see his expression is softer. He suddenly holds his forearm up in front of you. Your eyes signal confusion to him, but he just keeps his arm up the same.

“You’ve been ogling my tattoos since we met,” he says, voice low, “if you’re curious, then just have a closer look.”

Your breath picks up in speed, and you hesitate for a moment but it’s true. You were curious. Your hands shakily hold onto his forearm to keep it still as you study the ink on his skin. You twist his arm as much as his joint allows, and he lets you handle him in any way you want, and you swear the snake tattooed on his skin moves as if it were alive. A dark blossoming rose with highlights of burgundy red catches your eye near his elbow, and you brush the back of your hand against it. Your fingers accidentally find his pulse at his wrist, and you find his heart is beating fast.

You run a flat palm up his arm, the skin to skin contact feeling intimate, and your fingers stop when they tuck under the fabric of his sleeve. You feel the warmth and curve of his bicep, lightly wrapping your hand around it, and you blush at the sight of how small your hand looks on him.

“What does this one mean?” you ask, not meaning for it to come out as a whisper, but you feel like his answer is meant to be kept a secret. Your thumb swipes over small roman numerals permanently etched into him over muscle.

“It’s my dad’s military tag,” he responds, voice quiet like yours.

You tear your gaze away from his skin to look up at him, and you realize he’s closed enough distance between the two of you to where his face is just inches away. From the moment you looked up, his eyes have been on your lips, and his brow furrows as if he’s fighting some voice in his head that’s testing this harmony between the two of you in this moment.

You swear he’s about to kiss you, since there could be no other explanation for the way he was looking at you, but instead he clears his throat and his face is first to distance from you before he pulls his arm back as well, and then a small step backwards. “Sorry,” he says, and he almost sounds awkward. It startles you, because it’s the first time he doesn’t sound cool or calm or collected.

“That-” you start, “...wait, what are you sorry for?”

His eyes widen, and you see the heaviness under them for a moment, “uhh…I’m actually not too sure.”

Your head feels clear now that he’s not close enough to breathe in, and you blink a few times as your annoyance from earlier resurfaces amidst the lingering energy he just broke between you two. “Start with ‘I’m sorry for calling you a kid, and then also just now calling you naive and clueless,’” you say, foot tapping impatiently, “and then, in front of all your bandmates, mocking the fact I’m not old enough to drink, and shamelessly traveling your eyes over me, and then–” your breath catches slightly as the words fail to leave your tongue, cheeks feeling hot, “and then saying–” you try again, but the thought only falls flat, and he’s taking a step closer to you again.

“And then saying that you’re old enough to fuck?” he asks, finishing your sentence for you, but there’s no remorse in his tone at all.

His hand suddenly finds the small of your back and he pushes gently so you take a stumbled step towards him, like he needed to have you close to him again. His lips brush against the top of your head, and the sensation sends a hot feeling through your chest. “Choso,” you reprimand him.

“Fuck,” he exhales, like in cynical disbelief, “my name sounds so sweet coming from you.”

It makes no sense, but you grip his shirt at his chest just to make contact with him, and you brave yourself to look up at him, wondering if he can see the hint of worry in your eyes, because he already feels like something you can’t resist.

His eyes are dark now, different from the tenderness in them before, and he’s freely studying the features of your face. “I don’t want to fuck you, Shortcake, if that’s what you’re worried about. You’re a little too good for me to do something like that.”

His words say one thing while his eyes say another, his arm wrapping around your waist to keep you close, and you’re astonished at how little he cares about the clear contradiction in his words from the way he holds you. His gaze slowly travels down from your eyes to your lips.

“What about–” you start, heart beating fast in your chest as you see the glimmer of the silver ring pierced through his lip. You bite back the words.

But he reads your mind, because his head dips down towards yours and he captures your lips in his, slow and sweet at first before pressing more firmly, more decisively with both hands flying to hold your waist. A moan muffles in your throat at the sensation of his bare fingers coyly traveling under the hem of your shirt, and you can’t help but slide your arms up over his shoulders, locking them behind his neck to pull him down closer to you, and he sighs in response as he presses your hips flush against him. The chill metal of his lip ring has the plush of your bottom lip tingling cold, and when his tongue swipes across to warm it for you, your mouth opens with ease. You taste spearmint on his tongue, and his lips curve against yours in what feels like an amused smile, large hands now slid so far up your shirt that his fingers reach the band of your bra.

“Hey, Cho, do you know where–”

The trill of a feminine voice in the air cuts through harshly, and he pulls his lips from yours but not without a moment of reluctance. You two turn your head to the door, and you see Sana standing there, eyes wide and blinking as she takes in the sight of the two of you standing in what feels like a guilty proximity from how her eyes silently curse you.

You can only manage an awkward laugh, fist shoving against Choso’s shoulder but his hands are still placed firmly on the curve over your lower back, dangerously close to the plush of your ass, and your hips are practically pinned to him while you do all you can to lean your upper body away. “Oh–sorry, this…is not what it looks like–”

“I…” Sana starts, and you can see the hurt in her expression, but she quickly corrects it, “Oh! Ah, was just lookin’ for Cho here,” she says, making her way into the room, and a harsh shove of your fist against Choso’s chest finally has him relenting to let you go. Your posture immediately stiffens when she approaches Choso’s side, and she playfully pushes his arm but the effort is weak. “Kissing girls in Satoru’s room is seriously not a good idea, Cho. That freak probably has cameras in here to make sure people don’t bump uglies in his room again after that New Year’s party.”

Choso gives her a pointed look, like he wasn’t caught up on that drama, but you’re just standing there with your eyes flicking between the familiarity of the two people standing in front of you. Why wasn’t Sana jealous? She was looking at you ten seconds ago like she was a whole lot of jealous.

“What are you looking for?” Choso asks her, and she holds her red plastic solo cup with her drink in it out for him to hold as she crouches down to the floor to sift through the equipment now surrounding the three of you.

“My lucky mic,” she says, “Gojo said it’d be here.” There’s a hint of something in her voice, something that mirrors betrayal if you’re perceptive enough.

You watch Choso lick his lips once, eyes darting to you, before he’s crouching down too to help her look. “For something that allegedly means a lot to you, you sure do a shit job at looking out for it,” he comments with a sigh before pulling out a black case from under three other ones and handing it to her. “It’s here.”

“I’m–” you say, taking a step back and almost tripping over a guitar case, “I’m, um, going to head downstairs. Mai is probably looking for me.”

Choso raises an eyebrow at you from where he’s still crouched down next to Sana, and he’s about to speak when Sana cuts him off.

“Okay. Bye,” she says, still rummaging through things mindlessly even though she had already been given what she was looking for.

Choso makes a move to stand up, like he wants to see you out the door, but Sana’s hand grabs him by his forearm, eyes still not meeting his, and there’s a beat of confusion in his eyes as he studies the side of her face. But you know what sort of look she probably has in her eyes right now, and you know only because you’re also a girl, and all girls know what it’s like when a guy you love doesn’t want you in the way that you want him. All you can do at this moment is feel sorry for her.

The atmosphere in the room begins to suffocate, and you head out of the door in a rush.

present day. summer.

“He kissed ya the day he met ya? Hmph! That wouldn’t fly with me,” the man seated beside you says, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he shifts slightly in his seat to puff his chest out.

“Hmm,” you hum as you look out the window wistfully, memories that you had locked up for so many years opened like a pandora box that fills your chest with warmth but has your fingers trembling with anxiety because you know how it all ends. “You wouldn’t…let a man kiss you on the first day he met you?”

The driver humors you with a hearty laugh from his chest, at least. “Not talkin’ about it that way, darlin’. I’m talkin’ about my daughters. I’ve got two girls of my own. A man should keep his hands to himself the first time he meets a lady. At least that’s what I’ve taught ‘em.”

There’s a small smile that tugs at your lips at his words, the love he has for his daughters heard clearly through his strict tone. You left out a lot of the details that probably would’ve angered him on your behalf even more, so the fact he still ended up getting worked up about it has you a little amused and reflective at the same time. “How old are your daughters?” you ask, tucking strands of your hair behind your ear, watching the wind-rustled plains of grass that you two have been driving by for a while now.

“They’re a little younger than you,” he comments, his expression now a bit more serious, “one just graduated from college, she’s startin’ more school in the city soon, and the other’s still in highschool. She’s turning sixteen next week.”

“Ah, sixteen,” you muse, “that’s a confusing age.”

“You got that right,” he gruffs, “the other day, she called me on my way home from work to bring some drink called a boba. Fifty-two years of life and I never even knew there was a damn thing called a boba! Why would anyone want swirlin’ stuff in their drink?! Anyways, the shop got her order wrong, and when I brought it home, she refused to drink it, called me the worst dad ever, then stormed upstairs to slam the door on her room. I turn to my wife, and she’s shakin’ her head at me like I’m the one that did something wrong!”

You laugh, then press your lips into a smile. “I’d have to agree with her on that,” you joke, and he lets out another disgruntled noise that has you laughing again.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve lived with my wife and those two girls for over two decades,” he sighs. “I’m used to it by now. All three are equally pains in my ass, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Your smile drops a little as you look at him more contemplatively. There’s a glimmer in his eyes as he speaks, and you realize it’s familiar, but the answer of where you’ve seen it before fails to arrive.

“My youngest,” he starts again, “she’s been listenin’ to really loud music lately.” He presses one of the buttons underneath the AC vents, static noises coming to life before he changes the output to bluetooth. “My wife says it’s some sort of phase, but I’m not likin’ the music. Always sounding tempered and inappropriate.” He plays a song from his phone paired to the car, speakers flowing with music, and a chill runs down your spine the moment the first few notes fill your ears. A song so painfully familiar, so connected to your soul it’s as if your heart still keeps time with it to this day.

“See what I’m talkin’ about?” the man says, “Lots of words about skin and cigarettes.” With a shake of his head, he lowers the volume. “She’s obsessed with this band, it’s probably a band similar to your old lover’s from the sound of it. She’s got posters of ‘em up on the wall, and she took the picture of us on our first fishing trip together out of the picture frame on her desk and replaced it with this man. This silly-lookin’ white-haired man that always looks like he’s just pretending he knows how to play a guitar. Hmph! She keeps saying ‘dad, I wanna go to their concert!’ There’s no way in hell I’m allowing that.”

You stare down at your lap, brow furrowed from the realization flashing through your head, and your thumb nervously passes over the skin of your other hand. In your periphery, you see him glance over at you once, and he sighs before stopping the music and speaking up again.

“It’s fine,” he says, “my youngest got her sister into the same band, and she likes one of the other ones. Plays bass. He’s too rough-lookin’ for my daughter. Arms covered in tattoos, he’s even got some on his face! She keeps dreamin’ about havin’ him for a boyfriend, but if she brought that home, there’s no way I’d approve. I’d scare him off with my rifle.”

Your heart is beating fast in your chest, and you realize what a small world it is. Or, you realize just how big Choso’s world must be now. So much bigger than he or any of the other members of his band could’ve ever imagined. For once in a lifetime, so rare and pure, are dreams that are fully realized.

“Gosh,” you respond when you realize you’ve been lost in your own revelations for too long, “that’s an…extreme response. You sound like my father, though.”

“Hm,” he responds, “I’m sure. Did your father approve of this lover of yours? The one that’s makin’ moves on you so fast and too soon?”

You lean back in your seat with your head hitting the headrest. It’s been years since you’ve felt like you’re being lectured or reprimanded for anything, but the feeling comes back to you at this moment as if no time had passed at all. No matter how old you get, you’ll never forget how humbling the feeling was when you thought you knew everything at eighteen, just to look back and realize you didn’t have a single clue.

You sigh. “No. He didn’t approve. Far from it.”

seven years ago. autumn.

chapter 2. the juvenile & the delinquent.

[to be continued]

a/n. eeeeeppp thank you very much for reading n supporting my new fic!! i hope you enjoyed :') still a lot more to uncover n unpack hahah i'm so nervous to start a new fic but i'm also very excited!!! i love choso sm but i also love nanami so this is gonna be interesting to write. also TYSM to everyone that wanted to be on taglist for this omg your support means the world to meeee. love you all sm.

taglist: @joemama-2 @sweetpo1son @lilluna12 @polarbvnny @4y3sh4 @sedona-the-l0bster @horisdope @ilovenana88 @thexmistress @atsushirolll @flvrrg0d @strawnanamilk @nighttwingg @indieotterxoxo @pirana10 @bakuhoethotski @tvdumarvelhpsimp @lavender-hvze @whereflowerswenttodie @alwaysfreakingout @kaitoluver @3xv5s @wrenabbadon @erwinslut @winsga18 @ynishalee @yungbloode

love u all so much!!

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chr1sfilmed · 19 days ago

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rude!chris x crybaby!reader

summary: after you pleasure chris, he refuses to stay and begins to act cold once again.

involves: smut, bj, aftercare refusal !!

not proofread, only short!!

“mm’ choke on my cock you slut,” chris groans as he holds you by the back of your head, his fingers gripping strands of your hair as he fucks your face.

moans fell from your mouth each time his swollen tip hit the back of your throat, send vibrations pulsing through his hardness, “fuckkkk,” chris growls out as his hand tightens on your hair.

you immediately feel hot spurts of cum cost the back of your throat making you gargle, even almost choking. his pace slowed as he rode out his high, hitting the your throat every thrust, he places both hands on the wall leaning his body weight onto his arms, his cock still laying upon your tongue.

the pressure releases from your jaw as chris pulls his girth from your mouth before grabbing a box of tissues and ripping a few from the box before wiping the mix of saliva and cum from his harsh length.

your hand reaches towards the tissue box which is now on the dresser which helped you get up from the uncomfortable position on the wooden flooring, you gently wiped the mix from around your mouth and catch the saliva and cum dribbling from your chin.

as you put your shirt back on, you peak over your shoulder noticing a bored chris laying on his bed, “what’s wrong, do you like wanna watch a movie or something?” you ask him worried you have done something wrong as you take a seat at the end of his bed, “uh nothink but i have some better things to do than watch a movie..” he pauses as you look at him confused “so can you like go??” he finishes with a scowl on his face.

a rush of regret hit you like a gust of wind as you realise what just happened, chris is kicking you out because he has “better things to be doing” as he said.

you quickly grab your jacket which is hanging on the back of his bedroom door, “oh okay..” you say as you grab your phone and the keys for your apartment before twisting the door knob and exiting his humble abode.

you rush downstairs trying not to cry especially as his brothers are most likely in the room next to your exit out of this embarrassing situation, your face begins to heat up as you hear one of his triplet brothers voices speak up.

you turn to see that it’s matt, whose sat on the couch facing you with a lit joint between his lips, “where you off to, thought you were stayin’ the night.?” matt questions, you clutch tightens on your jacket as you try not to break, “uh no, i have somewhere to be,” you say as you watch him reply with a nod.

you spin on your feet as you take the last steps to the door before opening the door and mumbling a bye to matt with a tight curl of your lips.

chris makes his way downstairs soon after you left, taking a seat beside matt before opening his phone, “yk i thought she was sleeping over.”

matt coughs out, “who you talkin’ bout?” he questions. “the girl that was just here?” he tells him, referring to you.

“yeah she was but i cba with her, she’s wayyy to clingy, why you even askin’ bout her?” chris replies, “she looked like she was gonna cry so i thought you did some’ that’s all,” matt shrugs as he stands up leaving chris alone on the couch.

chris has a moment of realisation on what he said to you and how rude he was being, for a second he almost felt guilty.

random tags!!

@zombiesturniolo @mattsslutt @clumsycunt @mattyssluttt @ssabrinaaa @strniohoeee @sturni0l0-l0ver @sweetangelgirl7

#sturniolo #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #rude #blow your mind #sturniolo fanfic #blurb

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antimony-medusa · 5 months ago

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Guys, every time I post something about like “you may not realize this but you’re really coming up on a kink here, consider tagging”, as the post escapes my circle I keep getting people coming into my notes like “YEAH I’m sick of those FREAKS in the fandom, get them out” and like that is not what I’m saying at all.

I have been posting things because I think some people aren’t realizing how they’re coming across in some cases, or not realizing that this connection is tropes they’re super into has a specific name. It happened just the other day with someone coming up to me like “wait intox kink is a thing”? And yes. These are all things. There are names for all these things.

I’m posting these things because a) it starts to get rude to take some of these tropes and insist there’s nothing but vanilla posting happening in this fic. In the same way as you wouldn’t show up to work in a bikini there are fic subjects that are rude to drop on people unwarned.

And like, when I hit things I’m not into unwarned there’s a whole spectrum there from raising my eyebrows and continuing to having to click off a fic, but I do not have a moral or ethical problem with people writing family relationships I consider to be suspect. I think you should tag it to be polite but in the same way as I would go Huh about someone coming into my work in a bikini, I think they’ve misread the tone of the room, but they have not committed a mortal sin. I’m not saying that this person who showed up in a bikini is someone we should shun out of the community. God, I have hit legit triggers unwarned for before, and I don’t enjoy that, but I don’t think the person who did this is a terrible person or something. You messed up but you’re still like, fine.

But I’m also posting it because b) knowing that what you’re into has a name can be an experience full of joy. Mortifying? Yes! Especially if you realize that this is a theme through multiple of your works and you had no idea! Ask me about my fucking discovery that I found dubcon interesting and I’d been writing YA novels with romantic interactions structured around uneven power deferentials. I wanted to throw myself into the sea and never write again.

But once I went ohhhhhhh that’s why I found interactions where one person had a dearth of options to be interesting, I could b) not put it in my work unwarned for and not for all audiences c) investigate that theme more fully and decide if I wanted to celebrate it structurally and focus in on it or just include it as a fun highlight d) seek out other works with that tag and see other people exploring that. e) understand the baffling reactions I had going on from people where sometimes I could bring up a story and it would go well and sometimes they would hate it and it seemed random? Connected to Whump? Me trying to do romance was bad? No, it turns out one of my friends hates consent issues and I think they’re fun. You know how much easier that made interactions with that friend?

Like, part of the posting I have been doing is because there are tropes you don’t bring up in polite company. Incest is one of them. Consent issues. Daddy kink. If I was doing these things and putting them in the platonic tag, I would want to be warned that I was doing it. And sometimes the tone of my posts has gotten a bit hysterical because seeing endless waves of this stuff presented as though it’s vanilla can make you feel like you’re in the mirror dimension. *I* know that you shouldn’t be doing that, but everyone around me had shown up to the exam wearing a banana bikini. They are gonna go out into the work world like that. Do they not know? Etc.

But like if you spend enough time with yourself you’ll find you’ve got one or two interests you have to pick the friend group to talk about because people will think they’re weird. Everybody is like this. People are strange and complex. I don’t want to get into pointing and going ahahahahahahah look at that, and I’m sorry if I’ve gone down that path.

I just think that it would be helpful if we use the right words for things occasionally.

#fandom meta

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dilftaroooo · 1 year ago

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heyy there

can i req just like dirty like absolutely disgusting, downright nasty rough sex w toji 🌚

tags/tw: degradation + toji is so mean ;( + and he stuffs ur panties in ur mouf.

I think "rough sex" paired with "Toji" is a good combination, bestie, because he fits that category like bread on butter.

But before he starts anything, he has to get his doll all prepped up and ready before he pushes himself deep into your needy cunt. He's delicate in the beginning, making sure he warms you up with all his filthy words and lovely praises that you have no other choice but to submerge yourself in his affection. He's very good at making your nether regions below drip with aching desire.

Though, once he feels that wetness leak onto his calloused palm, savoring your taste by putting his coated fingers on the base of his tongue, sucking fervently before removing with an obnoxious pop, that's when the real feast begins...

Your back laying firmly on the soft cushion of his futon, knees bent and touching your shoulders, feet resting on Toji's pecs, and a pair of your panties rudely stuffed in your mouth because according to Toji, "You don't know when to shut the fuck up-". He's already gotten multiple noise complaints from his neighbors, God only knows how much he can take before he's asked to leave.

The loads of cum Toji filled you with emits a cacophonous squelch as he pounds your gushy pussy senseless and Toji falls in love at the sound. The power of his thrusts has you babbling like some fucking idiot and you're even more incoherent with your panties in your mouth.

"You keep talking to me like I'm gonna understand you. I don't know what the hell it is you're telling me. What? Is it too much, hm?" He'd question you in a mocking tone, belittling you even more as though fucking you in a mating press wasn't humiliating enough. You mentally curse at yourself when your answer is a quick, pathetic grunt — sounding out of breath because of the restraining position Toji has you in. It's like music to his ears and he smiles out of spite.

"Ooh it is, isn't it?" He sounds even more condescending than before and you hate it. "My poor doll can't handle all this dick, can she? No? She can't? Oooh," He's gonna make sure he keeps you in that reserved spot beneath his feet, pleading for mercy as he plows into your vulnerable state.

"No—" He starts again. You can feel his tip hit your belly button before he pulls out for the umpteenth time. "—she," Your vision is obscured with a blurry view due to you rolling your eyes to the back of your lids. He pulls out and you can sense the head of his angry, red cock pulse subtly at your entrance, "—can't." before ramming it back into you with more aggression than the rest of his thrusts.

There is but so much you can endure with him fucking you like this, but you like to pushing your limits teehee.

#PHEW #good lord #y do i always write these when im sleepy as hell?#toji smut #toji x reader #toji x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk x reader #tw: degradation

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bonny-kookoo · 1 year ago

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Jungkook x Reader/ Yoongi x Jimin

𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓣𝓸𝓸𝓽𝓱 [Teaser]

Yoongi and Jimin are each proud owners of hybrids, and these days, slowly falling in love with one another. And everything could be so perfect- if it wasn't for you absolutely resenting Jungkook- for no reason?

Tags/Warnings: Human!Yoongi, Human!Jimin, Rottweiler hybrid!Jungkook, Cat hybrid!Reader, Enemies to friends to lovers, mentions of past traume, some Yoonmin here and there oops, Main story focus are MC and Kook though

Length: ~850 words

Read Here!

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

"But she hates me!" Jungkook complaints, as he stands in the cabin Yoongi is currently unloading the groceries in. "There's no way she'll sleep in the same room as me." He huffs, and Yoongi sighs.

"Well, she has to learn. I already talked to Jimin about it-" He says, putting everything into a box that doesn't have to be stored in the fridge. "-and he agrees that he's spoiled her quite a bit until now. She needs to learn to be a bit more independent." He explains calmly, though he's internally very well aware of your distaste for his dog hybrid. He knows exactly why- but he also respects Jimin's decision to not tell Jungkook anything about your past trauma, claiming that that's something you need to tell, no one else.

And Yoongi agrees with that- but he also feels for Jungkook, who's been really trying to make you warm up to him. He already struggles to find friends due to his intimidating hybrid side and sometimes rather chaotic personality. Seeing you so defensive against him does clearly hurt, no matter ho much Jungkook tries to play it off.

But for once, Yoongi also wants to be a little selfish. He wants to spend time with Jimin, alone time away from you both, just to properly figure out where he truly wants this to go from here on out. It's why he's organized this trip in the first place. To find out if this could truly work out.

And he fears, deep down, that it won't. Because if you and Jungkook don't get along, there's no way Yoongi can ever be happy with Jimin.

A few hours away from the Cabin Yoongi and Jungkook are already setting up, you're pouting next to Jimin in the car, slumped down and with your arms crossed. "Making that face won't make me turn around, princess." Jimin says, voice light- but inside, he's torn. This is going to be tough for you, considering that you're gonna have to stay with Jungkook during the night- and the poor dog hybrid has no idea that you don't actually hate him. You don't hate at all, in fact.

Your defense mechanism when confronted with something you fear however, is to lash out. And that is most of the time taken out of context, making you appear rude and arrogant, when in reality you're just trying not to seem weak or vulnerable.

Because in the past, that would immediately make you the perfect target. Pushed aside and scolded for everything that wasn't ever your fault in your first home, used as a punching bag for other hybrids in the shelter later on, you had to somehow make up a tough façade so you wouldn't end up in those positions ever again. You learned to keep yourself safe by being the one who bites first- and it took Jimin years to truly gain your full trust.

He fears that that's all you can do though. That he's going to forever stay the only person of comfort for you.

And that's an issue. While he himself had been a bit defensive about his treatment of you with Yoongi, he knows that the older man is right. Jimin has been wrapping you in layers of bubble wrap, has spoiled you and nursed your bad habits into what they are today simply because he always saw the scared, shaking hybrid back at the shelter.

But that's not you anymore. You technically have no reason to be scared of anything anymore- but Jimin understands now, after talking numerous times about it with Yoongi, that he's partially at fault for your lack of social skills.

Jungkook had come from a good household- had been raised well, so Yoongi had never really experienced anything like Jimin did with you, but nonetheless, his advice still counts, and is still valid.

You need to learn at some point. You have to realize that there's nothing to fear anymore- and that Jungkook isn't an enemy ready to eat you alive in your sleep.

"Come on, stop pouting now, hm?" He tries, running a hand over your head once at a red light. You just look out the window. "Is Jungkookie that scary?" He asks, and you shake your head.

"He's dumb." You deny, putting your legs up and onto the seat.

"Hey.!" He scolds gently. "Jungkook isn't dumb. He's trying hard, okay? You could be at least civil with him, sugar." He tells you, and you sigh at that, leaning against the door.

"I don't want to." You say defensively, tail angrily flopping around. "You just say that because you wanna be with Yoongi." You huff.

"Partially, I admit that." Jimin nods. "But I also agree with him that you need to be nicer. Jungkookie is really trying to be friends with you, you know?" He sighs.

"I don't care.." You mumble to yourself, angrily looking out the window. You know that Jungkook isn't a threat- but he's still scary to you. He's tall, and a lot of muscle, and he's loud, and energetic, and just.. scary. Intimidating. Potentially dangerous. And that potential alone is enough to make you feel threatened.

Jungkook and Yoongi are currently ruining your perfect life you had with Jimin. So you've got enough reason to be absolutely pissed.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #yoongi imagine #jeon jungkook imagine #jimin imagine

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kyojurismo · 1 year ago

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— SECRET MEETING

# sanemi shinazugawa

synopsis : you are in a secret relationship with the wind hashira and his desires become unbearable right before he’s about to leave for a new mission.

tags : fem!reader, nsfw, kissing, nipple play, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex (don’t be silly), 1.2k words, not proofread.

a/n : COME GET YOUR FOOD !!! alright okay uh, i decided to finally finish one of my wip and it turned out like this. pls lemme know if i missed a tag, i’m actually pretty bad at tagging smutty works lol. pls keep in mind that english is not my first language so i’m sorry for any error . . . anyway, i hope you guys enjoy <3

you walked out of the hashira meeting beside shinobu, chatting with her. you smiled at her, nodding, before someone grabbed your arm and stopped you. “uzui-san, i swear–” you turned and met sanemi’s face, stopping mid sentence. “shinazugawa-san,” you offered him a smile.

“i need to talk to you… about that mission,” his tone was low, since shinobu was still near waiting for you. his eyes silently communicated with you and when realisation hit you, you nodded and turned to your friend. “shinobu-chan, i’ll see you later. i need to speak with shinazugawa about an important matter,” you explained, bowing to her. “oh, no worries! see you later,” she grinned at you, confusing you a little, and turned around to walk away.

what— your thoughts were interrupted when sanemi started pulling you with him towards a more private place, away from prying eyes.

“i told you to meet after the meeting because i’ll leave soon, dumbass.”

you sent him a glare, offended. “shinobu was talking with me, it would have been rude if i–” you gasped as sanemi leaned closer and kissed your lips fervently. his hands grabbed your hips, as he moved even closer to your body. you didn’t protest as you put your hands on his shoulders, gripping them as his kiss became more heated.

“i missed you so much,” he groaned as his hands started pulling at the buttons of your uniform, desperate to feel your skin under his palms. “d-don’t tear it again,” you tried to help him, careful not to ruin your uniform once again. once your chest was free, his hands moved to caress your skin and he started kneading your breasts. a soft moan escaped your lips as you closed your eyes.

sanemi’s lips traced the skin of your neck before he moved lower and started biting your skin, his fingers pinching your hardening nipples enough to make you gasp. “w-we shouldn’t… you need to stop,” you noticed him kissing down your body until he reached your belt. “i’m not gonna wait two weeks or more to have a taste of you,” his voice was gruff, but full of desire, and it was enough to make you clench around nothing — and of course agree with him. you gulped and noticed him glancing up at you before kneeling in front of you.

his warm hands started caressing your legs, moving up under your skirt before pulling it up to expose your underwear. your cheeks grew hotter as he smirked at you, noticing a wet patch on it.

“needy, huh?” he licked his lips before removing your underwear, fresh air hitting your center. his eyes stared at your most intimate part with pure lust and hunger. he looked so hot, you couldn’t—

"..sanemi!" you gripped his hair, your head hit the wall behind you. your eyes were closed now, your parted lips caused a few whimpers to slip out before you had to cover your mouth with your own hand. sanemi held your thighs with urgency, as if his life depended on giving you pleasure. you pushed your hips towards him, making his head completely disappear under your skirt. "you taste so good," he groaned against your cunt, lapping and sucking like a starved man.

you tried hard to keep any sound from escaping your mouth, knowing damn well anyone could pass and hear the two of you. not only you two were doing something indecent right under the sun, but no one knew you two were dating — no, everybody thought sanemi could barely stand you, his fellow hashira.

“n-nemi!” you whimpered, securing your hand around your mouth once more as you got distracted by the approaching orgasm. “you close?” you nodded eagerly, your legs quivering. at that, sanemi stopped and lapped at your throbbing clit one last time before getting up. “what the hell?!” you whispered angrily, annoyed. you were so close and sanemi had the audacity to leave you hanging on the verge of flooding his mouth with your sweet essence. it was a loss for him too, though.

“i just remembered the master asked uzui to come back a few time later, that jackass could hear us loud and clear and you know he won’t keep it to himself.”

oh. oh! you were quick to move your hands and undo his belt, pulling his pants open and moved the fundoshi enough to grab his hard cock. “shit baby– should have told you sooner,” he half groaned, smirking at your sudden eagerness. you pulled him into a kiss, shutting him up. sanemi got the hint and cupped your cheek with his hand, caressing your hot skin. you stroked his tip, gathering a few drops of precum before starting to pump him a couple of times before sanemi pushed your hand away as a low grunt escaped his lips.

“turn around,” he said gently, kissing your cheek. you did as he asked and felt him pull up your skirt, sanemi spanked your ass as he lost himself for a moment, admiring you. you bit back a moan, feeling the familiar sting. he pulled your hips towards him, making your hands rest against the wall for leverage. he didn’t hesitated further, pushing his cock into you.

you both moaned, a bit too loud for your judgment. as he started thrusting into you, sanemi’s hand wrapped around your mouth letting you moan freely against his palm. your warm walls clenched around him, making him groan. “fuck— you feel amazing,” he rested his forehead between your shoulders. his other hand gripping your hip hard enough you were sure it was gonna leave a handprint.

sanemi’s thrusts grew desperate both for the fear of someone hearing and for the approaching orgasm, for the both of you. you cried out right into his palm, wetting it with your saliva as one of your hand desperately grasped at his wrist. you came hard around him, your juices starting to run down your thighs as sanemi kept moving, his hips slapping against your ass. he was good at keeping quiet, while you were crying from the burning sensation coming from between your legs — a very pleasant sensation.

sanemi hand moved to grope your chest, suddenly needing to feel more of you. his lips met your neck, as he groaned into your skin while he painted your gummy walls with his seed. the feeling of his cock twitching inside you while he came made you clench around him. you shivered when he whimpered at the feeling, as you milked him until he finished emptying himself.

as he removed his hand, you gasped for breath. sanemi pulled away and shivered as he slipped out of your warm and welcoming pussy, already missing the feeling. you turned around slowly and noticed him smiling at you. “lemme help, mh?” he helped you fixing your clothes and silently thanked him.

“good luck on your mission, shinazugawa-san,” you winked at him and then you two shared a final kiss, before parting ways. you bumped right into tengen and tried your best to act casual.

“oh, [l/n]… i thought you left with kocho,” tengen smirked down at you, as if he knew something. “i uh… forgot to speak with oyakata-sama about an important matter,” you replied, a bit taken aback. “ha! right, always focused on your duty as a slayer,” uzui teased you, chuckling, and you tried to not make him suspect anything more as you smiled and bowed to him before walking away.

sanemi too bumped into uzui, but he pushed him out of his way and simply walked away. “you and [l/n] are bonding, huh?” sanemi stopped right in his track, but tried not to turn around. “i still despise her, uzui.”

“what a couple,” he said to himself, chuckling.

reblogs & comments are super appreciated! thank you for taking your time reading it, i hope you enjoyed it. have a good day / night <3

#📂 — writing !!#sanemi shinazugawa x reader #sanemi shinazugawa x you #sanemi shinazugawa x y/n #sanemi shinazugawa blurb #sanemi shinazugawa drabble #sanemi shinazugawa imagine #sanemi shinazugawa one shot #sanemi shinazugawa fanfic #sanemi shinazugawa smut #kny sanemi #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba fanfic #demon slayer #demon slayer fanfic

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tinkerbelle05 · 1 year ago

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~Pretty in Pink~

Characters:Jaime Reyes x Fem!reader

Genre: Fluffy

Summary: (Requested) Thanks for the request, and I am so, so sorry this is late! 🎀

Request: Can you write a Jaime Reyes fic where he has a bimbo gf. Like she's just so bubbly, pink, soft, ykyk but she has like no filter and is a little on the slow side. I just wonder what their relationship would be like. She'd totally leave her hyperfeminine stuff at his place and his sister would just tease the living hell outta him! That would literally be so cute! Thnx pookie!

Warnings: Slight suggestive things but nothin too crazy

Jaime’s Bimbo GF

You two met while he was on campus. He saw you at some event, welcoming the freshman or something like that. He couldn’t remember, but he remembered you. Decked out in everything pink, you were beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. He wanted to talk to you. To introduce himself to you. To get to know you.

He was positive there was a beautiful soul underneath that beautiful face.

And he was right.

You were kind, funny, smart. And so much more. Though, you had a nasty habit of saying things that first came to your mind.

You’d have Jaime laughing with the observations (at times verging on insults) you’d give to people.

“Why his butt out like that? Dude can afford Jordan’s but not a belt?”

And…

“I don’t get people that go bare face but have a 10 inch lashes on? If your gonna do all of that, then at least but some blush on. Some lipgloss at least, jeez.”

At times, you don’t understand that you are being rude or mean. To you, you were just pointing out the obvious.

Speaking of makeup though…

You wore it. Lots of it. Of course you’d be wearing pink but you would switch it up. Though the color would always be bright and colorful. You weren’t a pastel type of gal.

You would force Jaime to be your personal bag carrier when you go on shopping sprees to the mall. His limit was 5 bags per hand, even when you begged. He cheered you up with some boba and ice cream though.

Eventually, most of your stuff was in his room. Your scattered clothes in his dorm room and your make up items all over his dresser and bathroom counter.

And obviously this habit of yours carried over to when you and Jaime went home for spring break. It was a pleasant surprise that the both of you lived in the same state, nevermind the same city.

Which leads to…

“Jaime Reyes, get here right now!” Jaime heard his mother, Bianca yell at him.

Jaime ran over to his mother fast, the urgency in her voice had him thinking the worst; maybe there was a spider or a robber

Or…

A pair of lacy pink panties she held in the air. At the sight of the panties, Jaime froze in his place.

His speechlessness didn’t faze his mother at all as she gazed sternly at him, “Explain. Now.”

After an hour of interrogation, Bianca demands to meet you. Your charming personality and softness was welcomed, especially since she was fearing the worst when she saw the lacy underwear.

His family loves you, and you were a permanent figure in their household l. Spending holidays with them and hanging out in general.

But back to you and Jaime tho…

He’ll let you put make up on him. Just ONCE. And there could be no photos or anything. These were the terms you two agreed upon after you begged and nagged him for months about it.

Somehow though, Milagro managed to somehow take a picture (Jaime thinks it’s her evil sister powers) and now she will never let him forget it.

Even when he thinks that she had forgotten all about it, she’ll stare at him and say, “You looked so cute with that blush. What was its name again?”

Tags: @alienstardust, @scryarchives, @asvterias, @marmar-c, @wintersdeadd, @fhhahaha12, @allthingsvicf, @niluuuuu, @starii-light, @louiesdaydream, @666kpopfan, @sodacatz, @bluecray0nn, @strawberrycreamb, @conicoroahre, @losingmywayyyy, @nightwingandhissquad, @shslsimpette, @dilflover-3, @dcnerd98, @renamiel, @tid4lwave, @17ppm3, @fullsiiner, @zerosinterweb, @devilslittlehelper

Taglist, & Masterlist, & Reqs Info

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mountainficss · 10 months ago

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i’m really obsessed with your writing!!! you’re sooo good <333 i was wondering if you had any thoughts on vernon? 🤭

!! mentions of: switch!vernon, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, bondage

hi there, anon! hope you’re doing well today <333 thank you soo much for reading my writing and sending me a submission, it means the world to me <3 i apologize for not responding sooner! i had some assignments i had to work on today smh.

i’m glad you asked because i was just thinking about vernon the other day! i was wondering what type of person he’d be in a more intimate relationship. he seems like such a wild card to me.

vernon is such a quiet sweetheart. i feel like vernon would be a very protective person. not a possessive type of protective per se, just more of a “i love you so i’m gonna step in when i feel like it’s necessary” type of protective. so if he sees someone attempting to talk to you and you’re visibly uncomfortable that’s a no-go for him. he can always tell when you’re not comfortable or happy. he won’t ever be rude about it he’ll just kind of interject and whisk you away claiming that it’s urgent. he just can’t bear seeing you in situations where you’re not comfortable. i also see vernon being a quality time type of person, i feel like he’d literally be attached to you at the hip. like you’re gonna go get groceries? vernon’s coming and throwing random stuff in the cart. you’re gonna go shopping just for funsies? vernon’s tagging along and giving you things to try on in the fitting room. i feel like he’d just enjoy being around you even if you’re just running boring errands. he’d make boring trips fun for sure because that boy is funny 😭 he makes me laugh i’m telling you lmfao.

now as for the bedroom…

i’m still kind of stumped by this because again vernon is like a wild card to me! i feel like vernon would be a big pleaser and would just be down for whatever you like or want to try. so i’m thinking vernon is a bit of a switch. if you want him to fuck you into the mattress so hard you can’t walk tomorrow he’d happily do that for you. but if you want him to just lay down and look pretty while you ride him and run your fingers through his hair he’d also happily do that for you. as a dom i can’t see vernon being anything but sweet to you. he’d live to serve and would fuck you in whatever position you want. you’d definitely be his little pillow princess and he loves it that way <3 he’d always put your needs first and would make you cum once or twice before he even fucks you. would press little pecks to your face as he fucks you slowly, studying your cute expressions and always making sure you feel good. as a sub i think he’d be very obedient. i don’t think he’d ever feel the need to act out or disobey. would be very very good at following orders because he knows in return you’ll give him the best orgasms of his life. he’d make the cutest little sounds as you pleasure him, would be a little bit more vocal compared to when he’s domming but still kind of quiet. he’d probably be okay with trying anything at least once but i have a feeling he’d enjoy some light bondage. i think he’d like it when you grab both of his wrists with one hand and pin them above his head while you pleasure him. knowing that you have complete control over his movements would turn him on. probably would like cuffs or rope too 👀 overall just a very thoughtful lover. i looove cutie vernon so much <333

#seventeen smut #thoughts #seventeen #smut #vernon #choi hansol #vernon smut #vernon svt #vernon scenarios #hansol smut #seventeen hansol #mountainficss

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anystalker707 · 1 year ago

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It's not going anywhere [1/2]

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x [gender neutral] Reader Words: ~ 3 300 Summary: You were a slave to the Celestial Dragons, saved by Zoro, who decided to make you part of the crew and help you adjust to the new life. Tags: Loving Zoro / Very boyfriend content / Fluffy ending <3

Requested by anon "I want to request Zoro x Male reader. Male reader was a slave (...)"

MASTERLIST

It was weird, to be honest. Not uncomfortable, but curious and unsettling. You had spent so long serving those stupid Celestial Dragons that you had forgotten what living was actually like, which sometimes made you feel angry knowing how much time you’d lost. It was no use being angry now, though. Not with having found a new family. There was no need to waste more time.

A sigh escaped your lips as you observed the deck below and the vast sea, sitting on the wide seat along the walls of the Crow’s Nest. It was a sunny day, with the sunlight reflecting on the sea water and making the weather a little humid. Nami had promised you would stop at an island to enjoy the weather if you had the opportunity, but Luffy, Chopper, Usopp and Frank just put together a pool on the deck to have fun either way. Sanji prepared some cold drinks he had delivered around and didn’t fail on coming to the Crow’s Nest to deliver some to you while throwing rude words at Zoro. It was funny.

The thought of the crew made you smile. They didn’t look down on you or act as if you didn’t exist.

A groan and a slamming sound made you look away to see Zoro breathe heavily, with his hands on his waist and looking down at the barbell. “You can go down there, you know,” he said breathlessly. “It’s not like you’re stuck here or anyone will yell at you.”

“I know.” You smiled a little. Zoro was just one man, a single person, that could take all the guards and the Celestial Dragon by himself—you weren’t sure if it was just to save you, but he did so either way and you were happy he had taken you with him. He’d never answer why, though, but no one else complained. “I just like being here with you.”

Zoro raised an eyebrow at you, but clicked his tongue with a smile, shaking his head. “Won’t you drink more?” He pointed to the tray that Sanji had left on the ground. The jar was halfway filled and ice cubes still floated in it.

“I...”

“You can have all you want.” He sighed and moved over to serve himself some of the juice, also making a motion to offer to serve more for you, but you walk over there and serve it yourself.

Whatever Sanji put in it, it was so good! You tried not to drink it all at once, but, fuck, it had been forever since you were able to eat and drink things that tasted decently and weren’t spoiled! It was almost impossible getting enough of it and—

“Oi!” Zoro said and then you could feel a hand on the back of your neck, pulling you back a little. “It’s not going anywhere! No need to rush!” The sudden voice made you inhale and start choking, so he immediately took the cup away from your hands and patted your back a little. “Damn, I—”

With a gasp, you immediately bowed down, pressing your eyes shut to be ready for a slap or something. “S—Sorry, sir—”

A hand on your shoulder brought you up again immediately. “I told you you don’t need any of that bullshit here.” Zoro handed you your glass again and grabbed the jar to serve you more juice. “It’s just... You don’t need to eat and drink so fast. It’ll give you a stomachache or something at some point and that’s not gonna be good.” His gaze didn’t meet yours the whole time, and his face was a little flushed while sweat still trickled down his skin, but you couldn’t observe for a lot longer; he clicked his tongue and you looked down to see some of the drink spilled down on the ground.

Only having one functional eye did have him struggling with the notion of depth when it was not regarding fights. You gently placed a hand over his wrist to guide the jar over the glass properly. His skin was warm. It was almost disappointing to let go so he could put the jar away.

“Thank you,” you whispered, refraining yourself from saying or doing anything wrong again. Talking without all those honorifics was hard. So was not cleaning and serving everyone else. Your hands trembled a little as you watched Zoro drag closer the cloth he used to clean the sweat away from the ground to clean the drink he had spilled. You could tell he knew; he knew what you worried about and what you held yourself back from doing, but still, he just smiled when your gazes met.

“Be careful this time.”

Zoro continued training for most of the day while you sat there. Calm days without needing to get up all the time felt like a blessing. The way you didn’t have rags as clothes nor did your muscles hurt all the time. No bruises or scratches covered your body anymore. Sometimes you would catch yourself touching your neck out of habit and the fact there was no collar anymore made you so happy; something stirred in your chest and you wanted to do everything, run, jump, hug everyone. Or just be. It was so peaceful to just sit there and observe the others, too.

Zoro was a quiet person, so it was peaceful to be around him, but it was easy to find someone else to have a nice talk with whenever you were in the mood. Chopper, Franky, Usopp, Brook and Luffy were really funny while Nami would talk to you about good islands to visit. Robin once in a while would tell you about her research while Sanji would talk about simply anything if you showed up to keep him company as he cooked. Being a taste tester for him was great.

No matter what, Zoro ended up being your favorite person to spend time with, easily. Either for the fact he had saved you or the way he treated you, it was very enjoyable to even just sit there with him in the Crow’s Nest while he just worked out or napped. He encouraged you to try working out with him once, but... it wasn’t a good idea, at least not yet.

“I think lunch is ready, Zoro.” You mumble, faintly hearing Sanji shout at Luffy, most likely to wait for everyone else. It was a routine, apparently.

“Oh?” Zoro dropped his weights again with a sigh. “Well then, let’s eat.”

Not everyone was at the kitchen yet when you got there, but Sanji was already finishing setting the pots at the table and the food smelled good as always. Chopper, Usopp, Luffy and Franky were already there as you’d heard earlier, and Nami sat at the counter, clearly not wanting to get involved in their messy fight over stopping Luffy from eating just yet.

Their loud banter had you a little intimidated, afraid anyone would accidentally elbow or kick you, but you quickly rushed forward seeing Zoro already taking a seat. You were about to sit down next to him when Usopp sat there instead, too caught up in laughing with Luffy to notice. Hell, what were you supposed to do now? Would he be annoyed if you asked him to sit there? For sure. You didn’t want any of them to dislike you or—

“Idiot!” Zoro clicked his tongue and hit Usopp on the head. “(Y/n) sits there! Haven’t you learned that?”

Usopp gasped, face falling as he held the bump on his head and stood up from the seat. “Sorry, (y/n)-chan.” He said with a faltering voice, bowing a little, but he quickly went back to normal once he noticed the rest laughing at him.

You suppressed a chuckle by smiling, and finally sat down next to Zoro, nodding in a silent ‘thank you’.

“Today I prepared some special meals!” Sanji set a pot on the free space on the table with a smile. “It’s not everyday that I prepare those dishes, so enjoy. Don’t forget to save some space for the dessert either! I’m sure you’ll love what I prepared with the fruits we got from the last island!”

“Really? Thanks so much, Sanji!” You smile wide, already excited to start eating. Sanji prepared food that was way better than whatever you could manage to snatch from the Celestial Dragons’ feast. And the best part was that you could eat all you want.

Sanji chuckled and patted your shoulder lightly before he walked away once again to come back with the drinks this time, but not without kicking Luffy on his way and telling Franky to go call Brook and Robin. Waiting patiently was an easy task, though, giving all the time you spent standing next to tables watching the others feast.

You sighed, driving your eyes away from the food to watch Zoro picking at his hand. He must've sensed your gaze, raising an eyebrow at you then following your gaze to his hands.

“Calluses.” Zoro justified, showing his palm; you brought it closer to inspect. It had calluses both from the weight lifting and handling his swords. Your hands had calluses from the forced, harsh word. The sight of it made him frown a little, but you smiled as if to silently tell him not to worry.

His hand was big compared to yours. You pressed your palm to his, just observing how bigger his hand was, then you held it to turn it over. The back of his hand had scars, but they were white lines hard to see if you didn’t pay any attention, along his knuckles and fingers, and... His touch was also very warm. Not a lot of people touched you gently and even fewer made you feel that way, like something was bubbling in your chest. You blinked and looked at Zoro, but he also looked at your hands, with his cheeks flushed. Unfortunately, there was no time to question him about anything because Luffy startled everyone by shouting about food the moment the whole crew gathered.

“Want me to put some food for you?” Zoro asked, but you shook your head and did it itself.

Everything was so new. You had no idea how, but Sanji always managed to make the best stuff ever and it was hard to hold yourself back from eating almost like Luffy did, just unable to keep up with his speed, but you just wanted more and more.

“Oi! What did I tell you?” Zoro held onto the back of your neck again. “It’s not running away!”

You immediately took a pause, swallowing the food you already had in your mouth to look at Zoro with pleading eyes, but all he did was to roll his eyes.

“If you get a stomachache...” He said in a warning tone, going back to eat.

Instead of just shoving it all in your mouth, you instead started to eat it slowly, which was difficult at first, but you slowly got used to it, taking a moment to enjoy each bite of Sanji’s food and each sip of the juice.

“How do you like it, (y/n)?” Sanji asked with a smile from across the table.

You thought for a moment and nodded. “It’s perfect! Never had anything better not even when I stole food from the Celestial Dragon’s feast!” You chuckled, watching him widen his eyes before his gaze softened with a smile.

“Sanji’s food really is the best!” Luffy said, followed by something you couldn’t really understand through all the food in his mouth; something that immediately earned him a hit on the head by Sanji yelling about good manners.

The hit, however, made Luffy elbow a glass and spill some of the juice on the table. It was a reflex; you gasped and stood up, only stopped by a hand holding onto yours. Zoro didn’t even stop eating, just shooting you a look. His hand didn’t let go once you sat down again, only doing it when you finally relaxed—because Sanji made Luffy clean it himself—and went back to eating. You looked at him for a moment, but he didn’t return the look, continuing to eat.

The day went by rather calmly and the night eventually fell, bringing chilly breezes that didn’t do much other than cooling down the weather a little, hence it continued warm. You could already feel the tiredness heaving your eyelids when you left the kitchen after having helped Sanji with the dishes, but instead of heading to the quarters, seeing the Crow’s Nest lights still on made you change your route at the same moment.

No one else walked on the deck and it was already kind of dark, only with the light of the galley and of the Crow’s Nest illuminating around, and the faint loud talk coming from downstairs cut under the sound of the waves.

You started climbing the ladder to the Crow’s Nest for the thousandth time that day, smiling in relief when you finally reached it. Zoro’s head immediately turned to you and he furrowed his eyebrows a little. He was sitting on the couch, taking care of his swords like he had the habit to. He only interrupted the silence when you sat down next to him.

“What are you doing here?”

“Making you company.”

“You know I’m on the night watch tonight.” Zoro sighed, shifting a little.

You shrug, gently grabbing the sheath of... Wado? Your fingers gently traced the patterns, observing it from close. “And?” The question had him hum in response, making you pout a little. “I don’t want to be alone tonight. I still have nightmares sometimes, you know that. You know I like spending time with you.” It was a reminder Zoro didn’t really need, but you felt like it was impossible to stress it enough. Still, it sounded a little pressuring, didn’t it? “But I can go—”

“Stay.” Zoro said simply, so you just sat there, making yourself comfortable next to him to watch him work on his swords. It was quiet and you didn’t seem to disturb his focus or anything, which made things quite enjoyable even if you were just sitting there doing something mundane.

You felt the urge to tell Zoro something. Sleep did want to get the best of you, but there was still something that didn’t sit right yet, and the way you couldn’t find the right position to sit against Zoro was somewhat a hint. Finally, he sheathed his swords again and set them aside, giving you the freedom to curl up against his side properly. Unlike the first few times ever, he didn’t tense up nor did his breath hitch this time, he just sat back on the couch and lifted his arm for you to press to his side and let it rest around you.

At first, you thought you had the urge to be near Zoro all the time and do these things because you had an extreme sense of gratitude towards him, but then it felt like... Something else. Zoro’s presence would make something stir in your chest and also give you that feeling you didn’t feel in forever—the feeling of not being afraid of your surroundings nor anyone else, of being able to sleep without fear of being awoken with a kick, or to make a mistake without worrying about a slap across your face. It was easy to feel home near him. You curled up closer to him to get more of that feeling or to calm it down a little because the way it grew made you believe your chest would burst.

Maybe Zoro noticed it. He had a good instinct when it came to you.

Zoro’s fingers played with your hair and massaged your scalp in a way that was so relaxing, almost compelling you to give in to the sleep already.

“Why don’t you lie down?” He nudged your side and pointed to the futon in the corner.

“No. It’s warm here.”

He sighed. “Are you cold? It’s warm tonight.”

“No.” You sighed, and he just let you be for a moment before he was shifting around so you’d have your head on his shoulder and legs thrown over his thigh. Quite comfortable. A soft hum escaped your lips in a wordless appreciation while you melted more against him, feeling his fingers continue to run against your scalp. “Zoro.”

“Hm?”

The words got caught in your throat, so you just hugged him more instead, taking a moment to bury your face in the crook of his neck. He had a specific smell. It was better when he did shower, which he started to do more often after some point.

“What’s it that got in you today?” Zoro nudged your side again, his voice carrying a teasing tone; your lips curled into a smile at the same time. “You know I’m not going anywhere.”

“Shhh...” You still held onto him tightly, which had him grumbling more under his breath. It made you giggle.

“Clingy.”

You giggled again. “Don’t pretend you don’t like it.”

Zoro exhaled in the same tone he did when he smiled—the type he couldn’t help. “I never said that.” And that answer made you hum softly, pressing yourself closer.

It was good, sitting there with your eyes closed and just feeling everything; you couldn’t help even if your heart beat fast in your chest. Usually, you’d just curl up next to Zoro or lean against him, other times rest your legs on his lap because it was convenient, but never anything that... intimate. His fingers trailed down the back of your neck and rubbed the base of your neck gently, in a soothing motion.

“(Y/n).” He was the one to whisper this time, voice gentle. You hummed in response, but nothing came, only his persisting touch on the back of your neck until you finally pulled away enough to look at him, blinking a little since the lights felt too bright for a moment. He looked at you then reached out a hand, touching your cheek, and the simple touch already made a shiver run down your spine. His thumb ran against your cheek gently, but it also felt intense enough to make your breath stop in your throat. “You’re beautiful, you knew that?”

Your cheeks warmed up with that. “I—I...”

Pride laced the smile on his face. “Can I kiss you?”

The question made you want to ask why. Why would he want to kiss you? Like, ever. Still, that feeling in your chest twisted again, and you were nodding before you could notice it.

Zoro’s lips were warm. They also felt like home. His touch was so caring; intense and soft at the same time, hence you couldn’t help but to melt as you kissed him back gently, at first nervously, but something about the way he held you had you slowly melting into his touch. It was almost as if whatever you felt couldn’t be contained in your chest.

“Zoro,” you whispered, but caught his lips again with yours at the moment he hummed in response. His breath fanned on the space between your nose and your upper lip, with the faint smell of sake it usually had. He hummed again, deepening the kiss as his grip on your cheek grew firmer. Letting go wasn’t easy once you kissed. Even the short breaks for air seemed like forever, taking away precious moments you could spend with your lips pressed together.

Either way, you had to pull away at some point. Zoro could almost see stars in your eyes as you looked at him, which ended up making his cheeks flush as well and he sighed deeply, feeling as if a weight was taken off his chest. He only came back to reality when he felt your touch, hesitant and lingering over his jaw. Your fingers traced it and went down until he could feel them trace the scar that crossed his chest. The touch had him shivering this time, and he couldn’t help but chuckle before leaning in to give you another kiss.

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

[PART TWO]

#one piece #roronoa zoro #x reader #x male reader #x female reader #gender neutral #zoro x reader #one shot x reader #imagine #oneshot #monkey d luffy #nami #nico robin #sanji vinsmoke #usopp #strawhats

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a-b-riddle · 2 months ago

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Boundaries

Just to address a few things

Scroll to the bottom to see the gist of it but if you had any questions about certain things that are okay/not okay.

Taglists: You won’t get blocked for asking lol. I know it’s a common thing, but I just don’t do it. It’s hard enough to have the motivation to post and so many of you ask to be tagged in the next part that it’s a lot for me to keep up with.

Negative comments: I like criticism when it helps. If all you’re going to say is “hey, this sucks” I’m gonna block you lol. I don’t get paid to do this. But if you are saying “hey this makes me think reader is white or black or less ambiguous” point. it. out. Please. If it is going to help me improve my writing or your experience reading it, say something. If you don’t wanna comment, message me. But being like “your characters are pieces of shit” doesn’t help and idgaf about listening to your opinion on that. But if something makes you feel out of place or I should have put a trigger warning and forgot, tell me.

Update?: I will no longer respond or engage with readers who ask for an update on the chapter and that’s it. Not what you liked or that you liked it in general. I appreciate the enthusiasm, but I won’t engage in a simple ‘when are you updating?’ in my asks. If you say “I liked _____.” “I can’t believe they ____” along side it, that’s perfectly okay.

Rudeness: you’ll be blocked. This isn’t goodreads. I’m not getting paid for this. This is a hobby. If you shit on my hobby, I will block you. If you are rude to other readers, you will be blocked.

Spamming with likes, comments, reblogs: I’ve said it once and l’ll say it again. You are not being annoying. You are not making me upset by going through my blog and reblogging whatever you want. I love that you are finding content you enjoy whether I wrote it or not. Idc if I get 99+ notifications because of you or see your name pop up on a daily. I do not mind. Quite the opposite 🫶🏻 don’t feel like you’re ever being annoying for trying to engage.

Requests: my requests are always open, but I may not always get to it. Right now I have 243 asks 💀 but you’re always welcome to send asks. Even repeatedly with different scenarios.

Political/religious views: my political and religious views are not always reflected in my writing, but I’ll go ahead and clear the air. Personally, I don’t think I could go through with an abortion or write about it, but I have literally offered to pay for abortions for my friends or hold their hand if that’s the route they chose. I am pro choice. From what I have read and my understanding of the situation, I am pro-Palestine. I am anti-military, pro-veteran. I am left leaning. I am a Catholic trying my best. I celebrate other religious holidays with my friends like Diwali and Ramadan when I can. I don’t care who you love as long as it’s not a minor.

In short, ways to get blocked:

Being rude to me

Being rude to others

Trying to argue about how a story should be written

Trying to bring your own politics onto MY blog.

Finding out you’re a minor.

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your-local-grinning-cat · 6 months ago

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The Ultimate Compilation Callout

Hey Guys! AR OOC once again to say I am 100% done.

I'm done with this. I thought it was finally dying down and the drama was finally getting to be over with but then she came back and is now trying to say that we are the ones in the wrong. And she is STILL trying to blame Leona's mod when, as both @/castaway-achlys and I have stated numerous times at this point, they were asleep during the entire event. They did not ask for us to defend them. We were both just tired of hearing our friend be exhausted and stressed out by her.

And the fact that so many people have come out to give their own experiences of her being rude and cruel to them just proves this is not a singular event.

I'm putting all this under a cut because it's gonna get long guys. In fact, I’m probably going to end up needing to create a couple reblog chains to get it all out.

But I'm done playing nice. I have all the receipts. Like I went allllll the way back to when the discord was first created. I caught her in her first lie.

Which, coincidentally, her very first lie in the Discord server happened on the very first day it was formed. What a way to start.

I call her the Malleus mod as an identifier in these screenshots, because unlike her, I am not petty enough to reveal peoples’ personal information on the internet just because I don’t like them.

HOWEVER. I will remind everyone that she is not JUST the owner of the Malleus account. Even if you don’t want to look under the read more because there are a LOT of receipts, know that these are all her known blogs.

I do not condone harassment. Harassment is basically what started all this. Just block and go.

Malleus Draconia @/therealmalleusdraconia

Falena Kingscholar @/the-falena-kingscholar

Aijuka (A Leona gf OC) @/the-one-aijuka

Jack Howl @/frosh-jack-howl

Fellow Honest @/fellow-honest

Meleanor Draconia @/meleanor-draconia

Baul Zigvolt @/baul-zigvolt

Sebek’s Mother @/thethickestone

Marja Felmier @/marja-felmier

And her latest: Eric Venue @/ericvenue

(Bonus non-rp blog @/thetwistedminds)

Before we get too far into it I will say there is a slight color code! But only a tiny one!

Gross light green color - look at that lie! 👀

Gross darker green color - a lie is revealed! 🤭

Orange - note the date/time! 🗓️⏰

Let me show you what I mean in the lie I’ve already mentioned - her very first one. :)

There we have the orange, telling you to note the date. That’s because I was wanting to make sure it was known that the pet posts were made on the same date that the discord was created.

And then we have the gross light green around Malleus mod claiming that this bunny is her bunny and that it was her bunny’s birthday recently.

Now here is the follow up with the gross darker green of a lie revealed. 😌

And there we have it! The color coding system and her very first lie told the very first day the Discord channel was active and easily disproven with an image search.

Now let’s get into the FUN STUFF! /sarc

We’re going to be doing some rehashing here but I’m also going to probably be including some new things so stay with me folks! This’ll be a ride! Buckle up!

So, originally I was thinking I'd start with the current drama. But considering that a lot of that has already been covered and what hasn't been covered needs more context, I'm just going to keep going in chronological order, I guess.

I've been up for over 24 hours compiling receipts, editing them to protect IDs, and then getting them all sorted so let's finally do this so I can pass out!

First up is something that actually has been covered a bit but I'm going to expand on it slightly - her blatant lie to @/elysia-nsimp (I'm not tagging anyone because I'm not forcing anyone to get notifications on this lmao).

Here's what everyone has already seen. But to expand on the event, we didn't call her out on her bad behavior, even though we probably should have as she had just lied straight to another mod's face about her blog ownership. I simply DM'd the mod in question privately to make sure they were okay and then tried to keep the peace in the main chat.

Because, believe it or not with this major callout post, I don't generally like confrontation. But I stepped in there for Elysia and I stepped up during this for Leona's mod.

Now, later that night, she posts this as if nothing had happened and she hadn't just been told that she needed to work on her roleplaying skills:

Uh huh. Sure. That's your last account. Because you have shown so much self-control when it comes to filling character voids within the twst rp community already. I'll be generous and give you a month before you break.

Now these next ones need a tiny bit of background information and a note: the Malleus mod is German and, as far as we know, lives in Germany. These next pictures are little indicators that she has not experienced the United States at all. These indicators may not seem important now, but they will be in just a little time. So keep them in mind for after the pause.

You cannot tell me anyone who has spent any length of time in the United States has not at least heard of Walmart.

Quick pitstop to say wow! You didn't even make it a month! Congratulations!

Also, note the question from the admin and the pretty obvious passive aggressiveness from me. We were sending plenty of hints that they needed to stop - sometimes coming outright and saying it, sometimes simply implying. Either way, we were all ignored.

She says she's not a mind reader. Well, apparently she's just not a reader period.

Now... a bit of an oddball here. And I want to say I do not necessarily think this is a lie. I am including it for a lie that is coming. The one that I included all those America comments for.

I'm sure you will note that I said that I don't "necessarily think" it's a lie - indicating that I do think it could be a possibility. That would be correct.

She has been lying since day one and, after this doozy of a story I'm about to share with you, I honestly don't know what to believe when it comes to her.

So.. to sum this up...

We went from a cringe ask from an OC account that she didn't want to answer -> the asker wasn't supposed to be on tumblr because they were underage (???) and was trying to date her irl and somehow had all of her information (oh but don't worry guys she deleted the ask!) -> he found her social media accounts and sent her NSFW pictures and started spam liking, demanding pictures of her kids, sent pictures of her at-the-time boyfriend, sent pictures of his family and his kids -> so she blocked him on everything and then started spam creating the rp accounts to see if he did it with other people or if it was just her (...mmmhmmm...) but nope he was only interested in Malleus -> she then apparently moved to America for a bit to crash with her boyfriend because this underage person went to Germany to find he.

Oh, by the way, why was this guy obsessed with her? Oh, he was obsessed with German women. He decided that all German women were pretty. And she's German-Russian! And Russians have intense standards for women you know! After this guy found out she was German AND Russian, I mean... it was only a matter of time before he upped his game to try to find her!

Guys, she's not saying she's too beautiful for her own good - the underage stalker speaks for itself!

Now, since this stalker found her through her Malleus account and was obviously very determined, you would think the first course of action would be to, ya know, delete the Malleus blog. Right?

No, no, no! Then she would have to start all over and, of course, if she switched accounts she would be forced to make a post on her current blog saying what her new blog is and he would just find her there. That's why she's trying to make her other accounts more active than her Malleus account (her Malleus account was still, by far, before all this happened, the most popular of all her rp blogs)!

Can I also mention that in that post announcing her pregnancy ON HER MALLEUS ACCOUNT WHERE SHE SUPPOSEDLY HAS A STALKER, she had tagged ALL OF HER BLOGS AT THE TIME?

But yes, Malleus mod. I definitely believe your story. :)

Please. Please tell me you all can understand why I just cannot find it in me to trust a single word coming out of this woman's mouth.

Especially now that during this whole drama, she has been lying through her teeth and trying to pin the entire blame on Leona's mod.

Now this part is nearly over (thank whatever gods anyone believes in) but let's just post the last few of the "before drama happened" pictures, shall we?

...I'm realizing I didn't underline the part where I called her out for having that many blogs in the gross dark green of a lie caught... oops. This is what happens when you have far too little sleep.

But either way, here is another time when she was called out on a lie of hers. And her little comment at the end means she read it and she acknowledged us.

She just didn't care because it didn't suit her.

~~~~~~

ALRIGHT!

THAT'S THE END OF PART ONE!

Yeah. This is going to come out in PARTS. I can't cover it all in one post because there is a picture limit.

So, I'm going to end up making a reblog chain...

Eventually.

Real talk? I need to sleep. Desperately. It's nearly two in the afternoon where I am and I have not slept yet.

Do not underestimate the power of spite and my loyalty to my friends. Both are very strong motivators.

But my body's needs are finally winning.

When I wake up, I'll have the Ultimate Drama Arc to post and expand upon and then the Return of the Drama Arc.

Yay. (said in the most unenthused voice ever lmao)

Anyway. Enjoy all this. I'm gonna go die. /j

#I am SO DONE #seeing what she posted?#seeing how she tried to turn this around on us?#No.#ar speaks #ar speaks ooc #twst rp #call out post #callout post #PART ONE #HELPPPPP

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lutawolf · 1 year ago

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My Personal Weatherman and the D/s element Ep 4

If you haven't read the others, they can be found here.

Ahhh, nothing gets me going like a sub wearing what their Dom picked out. That subtle ownership. Why yes, I do pick out all my husband's clothes except the dreaded work clothes. I refuse to take the blame for those tacky things.

Right off, we can easily see that this is not an M/s situation. The fact that Segasaki is asking Yoh what he wants to do, tells us exactly what we need to know. Yoh is explaining what he is going to do. That is not something a slave would ever even think to do. We can easily tell that he is a subby sub though, cause when Segasaki brings out the Dom, Yoh eases back.

OMG, that chin grab! @bl-bam-beyond pretty please gif that chin grab.

That chin grab with the "No." Ugh, how all my lovely subs doing? Are you still here? Have you been able to finish the show? Or are you stuck here on rewind?

Yoh actually questions Segasaki as to why not. Anybody still thinking Yoh a slave? Cause not to be rude, I can't fix stupid. This boy, a brat. Fuck, this whole scene is really showcasing their dynamic. "But we made a promise." "Tell her that you can't go anymore. Do it. Do you even know why you are in this house." And once again, we're back at the misunderstanding stage.

A fangirl, I see. OMG, this is adorable. Yoh is like, sure. Let's look at the tie of my Dom, bestie.

Yoh calling with Segasaki standing over him. This episode is killing me in the best possible way. Don't revive me! (No! I have not taken my ADHD meds, don't judge me!) "I was ordered to stay home." Hahahaha! Then the ahhhh, after he tells her that he will make it up to her. Letting you know he was likely just punished by Segasaki. Yes, my mind went here.

Then the reward of the head pat, "you did good."

youtube

She showed up to check on him! Woot! Haha, she is about to find out who is boyfriend is. Hahaha. I'm dying. Meanwhile, his boyfriend is like, "guess it's time for a face off." Ya'll I'm not okay. I'm laughing so hard.

And Yoho stepped over a line and got put in his place. But he is too busy having a crisis to care! ��🤣🤣 Her face is my favorite.

That effortless lie. He wasn't feeling well. Uh huh. I love these two dumbass friends. I need sake too!!! I'm dying. Shit, I can't breathe through the laughter.

Now it's Yoh's turn to be jealous. Ahh, he got drunk and fell asleep on the floor. The places we find comfortable when we are drunk.

Nope, he doesn't want to go to the bed. I love the outer dialogue we are getting. I really enjoy that we get Yoh's side of things and from his perspective, but this rounds it out a bit for me.

And look at that beautiful smile when Segasaki finds out she's married. "Are you in your rebellious phase." Does this sound familiar to certain people whom I will not mention by name!?! Hmmm! Brats! Stop breaking my heart! Make him stop Segasaki, make him stop!

Fuck, I love these two so much. Everything he is describing is very much a Brat Tamer. Bossy but gentle. Controlling but caring. Charming and unreasonable. Brat Tamer.

The way his squishes Yoh's face! Ahhh, these two are gonna kill me!

"It would be nice if you stayed drunk forever." Because of the honesty. Segasaki likes Yoh's quirks, but he also wants the honesty and the connection.

I need the curry story now! But apparently, I must wait. Heavy sigh.

Hope you guys enjoyed this! Let me know in the tags if you did. 💜💜💜 See you next time.

#my personal weatherman #taikan yoho #segasaki x yoh #luta talks my personal weatherman #luta talks kink #coconuts mafia #Youtube

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starcrossed-lov3rz · 3 months ago

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Me and the Devil - Part 2

Logan x Popstar!OC/Reader

Series: Series Masterlist

Warnings: MDNI, mentions of death threats

Tags: Logan, Wolverine, X-Men, Popstar!OC (or Reader with a Name!), Bodyguard!Logan, fake dating, they hate each other at first, romcom, sexual tension, (smut in future chapters)

Words: 1.2K

Description: Lyssa is an upcoming popstar with a cult-like following. After her mutant sister is murdered, Lyssa uses her fame to advocate for mutant rights. Even with her fans’ support, Lyssa finds herself the target for hate. After receiving numerous death threats, she reaches out to Charles Xavier to ask for assistance.

Logan has been around the block a time or two. He’s certainly paid his dues at this point. Now Charles is putting him on babysitting duty?! Logan could be out there doing real work instead of following some spoiled pop princess around day and night. It’s not her fault, she actually seems nice. She needs to toughen up if she’s going to survive.

Chapter Song: Brooklyn Baby

Check out more works in my Masterlist!

“Your room is across from mine,” Lyssa said, tossing Logan his hotel room key. “We leave for Chicago bright and early.”

Logan caught the key deftly, sliding it into his pocket. “If anything happens, or you hear anything out of the ordinary-“

“I know the drill,” Lyssa rolled her eyes, “I call you.” She walked off, hitting the call button for the elevator.

“You forgetting something, bub?” Logan passed her his phone, “put your number in there.”

Lyssa groaned, “would it kill you to say please every once in a while?”

A growl of annoyance was the only response she got. Lyssa entered her phone number before snapping a picture of herself flipping off the camera.

“The hell is that for?”

Lyssa tossed the phone to him, hopping on the elevator. “Profile pic, gotta make sure you know exactly who is putting that radiant smile on your face everyday.”

“Wonderful,” Logan said sarcastically, following her on the elevator.

“Hey, hold that elevator please!”

Lyssa and Logan looked up to see a man running towards the elevator. Out of instinct, Lyssa put her hand out to stop the doors from closing. Lyssa stepped back to let him in while Logan sized the man up. He was tall, just a little shorter than Logan and stocky build.

“Hey thanks sweetheart, I was worried I wouldn’t make it,” the man said.

Logan’s attention moved to Lyssa, taking in the way her polite smile dropped as she scrunched her nose at the pet name. She didn’t know this man, and she was definitely irritated. “Don’t mention it,” Lyssa said flatly.

“Wow, no need to be rude baby,” the man purred, moving closer to Lyssa. The stench of liquor rolled off of him, and Lyssa flinched back.

“Back off,” Logan growled in warning.

The man rolled his eyes, moving to grab Lyssa’s arm, “I think the lady can speak for herself, can’t she?”

Lyssa froze, eyes darting towards Logan in a silent plea. In an instant, Logan planted himself between Lyssa and the man. “I won’t say it again. Back. Off.”

“Come on baby, you’re not gonna apologize for being so rude to me?” The man didn’t back off, trying to sidestep Logan to get to Lyssa. She hid behind Logan, grasping the back of his jacket. “Women, am I right?” he sneered. “Are you her boyfriend or something? Maybe you should keep your bitch in line.”

Logan sighed, turning to look down at Lyssa. “The easy way or the hard way, bub?”

Lyssa’s eyes darted up and she shook her head. Logan wanted nothing more than to beat the shit out of the man in the elevator, but if Lyssa didn’t want to escalate then he wouldn’t.

“Here’s how this is going to work,” Logan growled, hitting a call button for the next floor. “Once this elevator stops, you’re going to get off and take the next elevator to wherever the fuck you crawled out of.”

The elevator stopped with a ding as the doors opened. “Or what?”

Logan’s hand shot out to stop the doors from closing. “Get. Off. Now.”

The man’s eyes narrowed and his fist shot out, hitting Logan square in the nose. Lyssa screamed at the punch. Blood ran down Logan’s face. Logan shrugged his shoulders back, cocking his head back and forth as his body reset and reknit the broken nose. He hit the emergency stop on the elevator, shrugging off his jacket to wrap it around Lyssa.

“What do you think you’re doin-” the man watched in horror as Logan healed in front of his eyes.

“The hard way.” Logan said as he hit the man with a right hook. He grabbed the man’s shirt collar, throwing him up against the side of the elevator and hoisting him up, feet dangling. Logan pulled an arm back, and the man flinched, throwing his hands up to protect himself. A light touch on Logan’s arm stopped him. He looked over to see Lyssa shaking her head.

“Just let him go,” she said, “I think he’s got the point.”

Logan growled, extending his claws out. They stopped just before reaching the man’s face. “It’s your lucky day.”

“I-”

“Now get the fuck out.” Logan threw the man out of the elevator before closing the doors and hitting the floor button. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Lyssa muttered. “Next time, you don’t have to get physical.”

Logan snorted, the noise turning into a full belly laugh. “Don’t have to get physical? Princess, I’m your bodyguard. My entire job is getting physical.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“As long as you’re safe, I can live with that.”

Lyssa and Logan walked to the end of the hall in silence, stopping at their rooms. Lyssa keyed in, and Logan brushed past her. “What the fuck?” she hissed, “are you gonna tuck me in or something?! Get the fuck out.”

Logan stalked around the room, checking for intruders. “I’m trying to make sure your room is safe. I don’t do well in hotels, too many smells to pinpoint.” He flipped lampshades upside down, looking for cameras. Satisfied there was nothing out of the ordinary, Logan checked the window locks.

“Smell?! Are you a bloodhound or something?!” Lyssa hissed.

“Something like that,” Logan snorted.

“Wait, what do I smell like? Please say I don’t stink,” Lyssa sniffed at her arms. “I really don’t think my self esteem could handle if I smelled bad and my new bodyguard was too nice to say any-”

“Has anyone ever told you that you talk a lot?” Logan slid the curtains shut, content that the room was all clear.

Lyssa groaned, “that really doesn’t answer my question.”

Logan huffed a laugh. “You should be good tonight. I’ll be over in the morning.” He pulled his phone from his pocket. “If you don’t check in by 5:30 AM, I will be over to make sure you’re okay.”

“5:30 is ridiculous, I’m not doing that.”

“Fine, 5:45.”

Lyssa hummed, “still not good, but I get the feeling it’s the best I’ll be getting.”

“Now did you actually want me to tuck you in? Cause if not I’m going to need you to quit blocking the door.” Logan said, moving towards the door.

“You ruined a good moment, Lo,” Lyssa snorted. “It almost seemed like we were getting along.” She sidestepped around Logan, letting him past her and out into the hall.

Logan snorted, “sure thing, princess.” He keyed into his room, and turned to face Lyssa before going in.

“Night Logan.”

“Night, princess,” he said. “Oh and, maybe wear a little less perfume. You don’t need it, you smell fine.”

Lyssa face heated and she slammed her door shut. Logan chuckled as he heard the two deadbolts click shut.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

NOTE: Chapter 2? This fast? Yeah, half of this was written in speech to text (then fixed in post). If you're here from my other fic, The Vow Spoken Through Time.....Chapter 12 in two days!!!!!! Might have a little fun and make a playlist for this fic, we will see!! ~ Lacie <3

Taglist: @100percentlazybonez , @nerrivm , @mooniesthings , @kmatrixx1130 , @dragonpunsart

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#x men #xmen fanfiction #deadpool and wolverine #wolverine #wolverine x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine fanfiction #james logan howlett #james howlett #logan x you #logan x reader

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felinecryptid · 1 year ago

Text

A Local Delicacy

or the fic where hobie stares at pav and misses all the vital information

(please pay attention to the tags ✨✨ no cw's for this one)

"Wha's this thing called again?" Hobie frowned at the small, inflated crisp looking thing.

'It's called a Pani Puri, stop being so difficult," Pav reached up to hit him on the head, failing not so miserably. Hobie wanted to laugh at his disgruntled face. It had been a hot minute since they had hung out. Plus, Miles could probably use a break after the entire 'destabilising the multiverse' debacle. Pav had immediately dragged them to a nearby stall stacked to the top of the colourful umbrella with these Pani Puris, while blabbering non stop about foot traffic.

Hobie supposed some things transcend universes. Like crowds. Stray animals in narrow alleyways. Rude people. Rude cops. His crush on Pav. Capitalism. You get it. Hobie was broken out of his thoughts by the stall keeper handing him a tiny leaf cup. It was 5 centimetres at most.

"What are these for?" Gwen asked.

Pav smiled. Hobie's heart skipped a beat. "For eating. You'll see." He answered cryptically.

"Thoda time lagega beta, abhi kate pyaaz khatam hogaye," The stall keeper started chopping onions at the speed of light, his knife clacking against the ratty wooden board.

"Koi nahi kaka, aap aaram se karo," Pav bounced on the balls of his feet, replying to whatever the stall keeper said, in his sweet voice. Hobie loved when Pav spoke Hindi, there was something so flowy about it.

"What did he say?" Miles asked. Hobie was curious too. He only caught the heavily accented 'time'.

"He said it's gonna take a few mins, he just ran out of onions."

"That cutting board does not look hygienic," Gwen said, as Pav manoeuvered everyone to stand in a loose circle around the vendor.

"Arey bahut saaf hai beta! Very hygienic!" The stall keeper nodded at her, now chopping coriander. Gwen went red. Miles burst out laughing.

Pav looked embarrassed as well, and Hobie wanted to just. Hold him. He'd settle for standing close to him as he tried to sputter out something.

"Bura mat manna kaka, aapko pata hai yeh videshi log kaise hote hain." Pav scratched his neck, flashing a winning smile at the vendor and Hobie felt something stab in his heart.

"Chalega chalega, badi hi gori dikh rahi hai, pata chal gaya yahan se nahi hai." The stall keeper said while arranging the dishes around. "Uske liye kam tikha dun?"

"Gwen, do you like spicy food? Miles?" Pav asked.

"Nope." said Gwen as Miles nodded.

"What about you, Hobie?" Pav turned to him, his deep brown eyes glinting something pretty in the late afternoon light.

"Sure, why no'." Hobie shrugged, a grin inexplicably tugging at his lips. Pav turned back to the man, saying stuff in lilting tones Hobie didn't understand.

The stall keeper nodded, and cracked open one of the crisps, scooping peas and potatoes inside it and adding the green liquid and onions inside it. He swiftly placed it in Hobie's cup.

"Tha's it?" Hobie was unimpressed. This little thing?

"No, bro, you gotta eat it to get more. Put it in your mouth all at once. Don't nibble at it, or it'll get soggy and get all over your clothes." Pav said, entirely shoving his own Pani Puri into his mouth like a visual example of what to do. Hobie looked at the Pani Puri in his cup for half a second more before deciding to fuck it and copied Pav, mouth closing over the stuffed crisp.

Flavours exploded on his tongue. The sweet tanginess, the crunchy onions and the spicy peas; it was nothing Hobie had expected it to taste like and nothing like anything he had eaten in his life. He chewed, feeling the bits of the crisp puri poking all around his mouth, but that was the experience. It felt otherworldly yet somehow fulfilling. Hobie automatically extended his hand for another one.

Gwen got hers, stuffing it in her mouth, with no small amount of trepidation visible on her face. It was valid, considering she started coughing the moment she chewed it, going 'hoff, hoff, hoff!' which Hobie took to mean 'hot, hot, hot!'.

"Goddamnit Gwen, how are you gonna eat dinner with us?" Miles said easily eating the puri without breaking a sweat, his Puerto Rican taste buds used to the level of spice.

Gwen glared at him, face red and sweat dripping. "Can't you cook unspicy food for me?"

"Mami will never let you in again if you eat like a white person,"

"I am white."

"Yeah, and?"

"Hooo- kaay! Calm down children! Gwen, we can go get a kulfi for you later. Miles, stop antagonising Gwen," Pav made a 'chop' gesture at them, shaking his head frantically.

The vendor had plopped another one in his cup and was holding another one in his hand waiting for them to finish bickering. Hobie ate it, only a few drops of the green liquid spilling on his fingers. And the next one as well. And the next one. This street vendor was so fast, the fuck? With only Pav and him at the stall, because Miles was busy with Gwen, the vendor seemed to make three for each one Hobie ate. Pav didn't look bothered at all, scarfing down every one as it came.

"'oly shit, Pavi, ask 'im to slow down, 'M strugglin' 'ere, mate," Hobie managed to speak in between the positive barrage of puris.

"No way, it's part of the vibe, dude, keep up," Pav was way more graceful, easily talking between the Puris, time seeming to favour him and him only.

"Seriously?" Hobie muttered on the tailend of a particularly large Pani Puri. Pav grinned again, his right canine getting caught on his own lip. Hobie was well aware that he had a staring problem, and if he didn't get himself together, Pav will be too.

"Okay, okay," Sometimes Pav looked at Hobie in a way that had him swearing his feelings were requited, and this was one of those looks that made Hobie wonder how he's still standing up straight and not a puddle on the floor like he felt on the inside. "Kaka, thoda ahistha dena, Hobie bhi yahan naya hai."

"Theek, theek, beta," The vendor laughed. "Apke aashiq ko impress toh karna padega."

Pavi choked on his Pani Puri. Hobie turned to him concerned, as he said something in 3 octaves higher than his normal voice.

"Kaka- aashiq nahi hai woh- hum bas dost hain," Pav said, wiping tears from his eyes with his sleeve.

"Meri beti bhi apne bf ko dost bolti hai. Woh dono bhi ek dusre ko aise hi dekhten hain. Usko lagta hai mujhe nahi pata lekin ham bhi toh aapke umar ke the," The vendor winked, and Hobie was sure this conversation was not about anything he could imagine. Why on earth would this random man be winking at Pav? "Aur hum yeh bajrang dal jaise vishwas nahi rakhte, pyaar toh pyaar hota hai na?"

"Ji kaka." Hobie could see Pav's blush that seemed to radiate because why else Hobie would feel flustered too? "Ahem," Pav looked at his wrist like he was looking at the time, except he did not have a wrist watch on. "Kaka abhi hame jana padega- chemistry coaching hai- kitna hua?"

"Itni jaldi? Theek hai, sukhi puri lelo," He said, handing over two flatter crisps. Without the liquid. Hobie felt it was easier to fit this in his mouth after all the other Pani Puris. "Sath rupay hue,"

"Kya kaka, angrez dekhte bhau badha dete ho? Main akele khata toh chalis ka hota," Pav said, his voice taking a complaining tone and Hobie was surprised to find him even more endearing.

"Beta, jab aap dhanda karoge tab samajh mein ayega, abhi apko coaching nahi jana?"

"Han, kaka, din dahade loot lo," Pav said, and Hobie got a sense of defeat from his slouch, as he forked over what Hobie assumed was the price of the Pani Puris. "Let's go, before uncle embarrasses me in front of someone."

"You paid money to your uncle?" Hobie thought it'd be easier to get around in Earth-50101 as time went on, but here he was, getting more questions and no answers as he hung around.

"He's not actually my uncle, I'm calling him that out of respect. It's a cultural thing, don't worry about it," Pav answered, grabbing Hobie's hand as he wove between the forming crowd. Hobie sighed, letting Pav drag him around, his hand warm in Pav's soft palms.

___

i have nothing to say.

translation (not literal translation bc then id have to explain a shit-ton of grammar, slang and indian pop culture to yall):

Thoda time lagega beta, abhi kate pyaaz khatam hogaye - it's gonna take some time, [I] just ran out of the chopped onions

Koi nahi kaka, aap aaram se karo - no problem uncle, take your time

Arey bahut saaf hai beta! - oh its very clean, kid

Bura mat manna kaka, aapko pata hai yeh videshi log kaise hote hain. - please don't be offended uncle, you know how foreigners can be like.

Chalega chalega, badi hi gori dikh rahi hai, pata chal gaya yahan se nahi hai. - It's okay, she looks very light skinned, [I] assumed she wasn't from around here.

Uske liye kam tikha dun? - should [I] make it less spicy for her?

Kaka, thoda ahistha dena, Hobie bhi yahan naya hai. - Uncle, please slow down [the pace], Hobie is new to this too.

Theek, theek, beta - Alright, kid

Apke aashiq ko impress toh karna padega. - [I know] you have to impress your boyfriend.

Kaka- aashiq nahi hai woh- hum bas dost hain, - Uncle- he's not [my] boyfriend- we're just friends,

Meri beti bhi apne bf ko dost bolti hai. Woh dono bhi ek dusre ko aise hi dekhten hain. Usko lagta hai mujhe nahi pata lekin ham bhi toh aapke umar ke the. - My daughter also claims her boyfriend is just a friend. They look at each other the same [way you do]. She thinks I don't know [about them], but we [adults] used to be your age.

Aur hum yeh Bajrang Dal jaise vishwas nahi rakhte, pyaar toh pyaar hota hai na? - I don't believe stuff like Bajrang Dal. Love is love, isn't it?

Ji kaka. - Yes, uncle. (in this case)

Kaka abhi hame jana padega- chemistry coaching hai- kitna hua? - Uncle, we need to go- It's time for my chemistry tutorial classes- how much [were the Pani Puris]?

Itni jaldi? Theek hai, sukhi puri lelo, - So fast? Okay here's your [aftersnack snack (that's that least complicated way to explain what a sukhi puri is)]

Sath rupay hue, - it's 60 rupees.

Kya kaka, angrez dekhte bhau badha dete ho? Main akele khata toh chalis ka hota - C'mon, uncle, y'all see a foreigner and increase the price? If I was here alone, this would have cost 40 rupees.

Beta, jab aap dhanda karoge tab samajh mein ayega, abhi apko coaching nahi jana? - Kid, when you grow up and have a job, you'll understand, now, don't you have classes to attend?

Han, kaka, din dahade loot lo - yeah, okay, why don't you just rob me,

Some context (you dont need to read this)

kulfi is an ice cream equivalent, usually flavoured with almonds, pistachios and saffron

beta literally means 'son' but its used to refer to any kid who's very young relative to the speaker's age; and also for jokes b/w buddies but that's a different thing

kaka literally means 'father's younger brother ie uncle', but can used to referred to any man who isnt related to you and is about the age of the speaker's parents; there are also other terms depending on by who and how you were introduced to the person

Bajrang Dal - an anti-societal group against religious and sexual minorities(as defined in the indian constitution, do not come at me with politics). Famous in pop culture for being vehemently against valentine's days and premarital eye contact (you think im joking)

The Chemistry Coaching thing is a big deal. Kids have great pride about which institute they go to. The institutes teach accelerated courses for specific competitive examinations, usually in an unethical way. It's considered kinda shameful if you don't go to one. (very dystopian, ik)

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