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brickmvster · 8 months

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please don't go (i'll eat you whole) | Leon Kennedy x Reader

synopsis: You make love to Leon before he leaves you.

word count: 1,906

warnings/tags: leon kennedy x fem reader, established relationship, smut with feelings, angst, pre-spain or just pre-mission in general, some light fluff if you squint kinda (i'm sorry), p in v sex/penetrative sex, unprotected sex, aftercare

author's note: i'm gonna be honest. i am a little nervous. more so than usual bc this is my first time writing for leon! i love him so much, he's definitely one of my comfort characters, and i wanted to write something angsty but also kinda bittersweet like this for a loooong time and i finally got around to it. i really hope you guys enjoy, comments are always appreciated <3 this has been proofread more than once, but just in case, any and all mistakes are mine! also, just fyi, i wrote this with re4r leon in mind, but you can imagine whichever leon floats your boat if you really want to lol.

p.s. it's not written in here but pls pee after sex 😭

minors do not interact, please and thank you!

You clung to him for dear life; as if he was going to disappear in front of your very eyes.

You were above him, peering down into his deep eyes. His eyebrows were knitted together in pleasure and his lips, which were currently rosy and swollen after the frequent kisses you had given them, were ever so slightly parted as soft groans emerged from his throat. His large hands never stayed still for longer than a minute – he gripped your waist before sliding them down to your ass, kneading the soft flesh before moving them up toward your breasts, squeezing gently, before bringing them back to your waist, where he helped with guiding your languid movements. You moved your hips like an expert, riding him as if you’d never have the chance to again.

With the rain pattering against the window and a sliver of moonlight filtering through the room, it was almost like a scene from an erotic novel. The room carried the scent of sweat and sex and was filled with the noises that spilled from your lips non-stop. You didn’t even know how much time had passed – but you knew it was late. You knew Leon had to be up in the morning. But you wanted to prolong this moment with him for as long as possible. Leon wanted to as well, as every time he got you close to your peak, he slowed down, dragging out your orgasm in a way that was almost painful, but you enjoyed every second of it.

You were growing tired, your legs beginning to shake as your rhythm became a bit off-kilter.

“Leon…” You moaned, his name coming out so softly it almost wasn’t audible. But Leon, ever so attentive, heard you loud and clear, and he knew what you were trying to tell him.

He flipped you over with ease, while he was still inside of you, spreading your legs further apart and starting up a steady pace. All you could do was grip the bed sheets, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he drilled into that spot that made you see stars. He wasn’t aggressive or rough, but his thrusts were certainly hard-hitting and relentless, and you knew you only had a few minutes.

At some point, you closed your eyes as you tried to focus on your impending orgasm, feeling as if you were in a complete haze – but Leon’s voice pierced through your foggy mind.

“Please look at me.” He said, his low voice sounding a bit strained and even a little desperate; who were you to deny him of what he wanted?

It took a momentous amount of effort, but eventually you were able to open your eyes and keep them open, looking up at him. Leon lowered himself a little, allowing you to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. The slightly different position made his thrusts feel even deeper, and you cried out into his neck, your fingers going into his shaggy blonde hair.

“Keep looking at me. Please.” He said softly, and so you did, maintaining eye contact with him the best you could as he continued to piston his hips into you. Suddenly, Leon was becoming blurry; you could feel the wetness on your face as tears began to fall. Leon often made you cry during sex – he was a fucking god in bed after all and usually made you feel so good that he’d leave you sobbing from the intense pleasure after multiple orgasms. And while that was definitely the reason you were crying now, you also knew that there was an underlying reason for your tears. Leon knew the other reason, too.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” He asked you sweetly, still keeping up his quick pace. All you could do was nod fervently, digging your nails into his back. He always loved when you did that.

“Yeah? My sweetheart is gonna cum for me?” He urged, and the pet name that rolled off of his tongue only made matters worse.

“Fuck, Leon–please, give it to me.” You said, your voice trembling. You felt all of the telltale signs. There was a tight coil forming in your lower stomach, ready to pop like a balloon. Leon could sense this, could hear it in your voice and could feel it in the way your pussy was squeezing around his cock. He raised himself just a bit, lowering his hand down between your legs, using his thumb to rub your clit in circular motions while he continued thrusting.

Leon’s name emerged from your throat so loudly that you even drowned out the rain. Your eyes squeezed shut, your back rising off the bed in a beautiful arch, your climax hitting you in waves. You felt like you were in heaven, the tears falling even more freely from your eyes now. Leon just ogled at you like you were a work of art. In his mind, you were.

He was also close, and mere seconds after your orgasm his own came crashing down on him too. With a few more sloppy thrusts he found himself stilling inside of you, his release filling you to the brim. The feeling of being so full of him was one that you would never grow tired of.

Eventually, you came down from your peak, your limbs feeling like heavyweights. All you could do was lay there and cry some more, letting every single emotion overtake you completely, your sobs shaking your entire body. Leon was comforting you in an instant, pulling out gently and lying next to you, allowing you to bury your head into his chest. The two of you laid like that for several minutes, with Leon cradling your head and rubbing your back.

You did calm down after some time passed, and that’s when Leon tried to get up, but you clung to him again.

“Please don’t go.” You said, your voice small and hoarse. “Don’t go, Leon, please.”

“I just wanna clean you up, okay?” Leon replied, wiping away the wetness on your cheeks. You didn’t even care that his cum was leaking out of you and making your thighs a mess – you just wanted him to stay by your side. But you knew he was just trying to take care of you, so you reluctantly released him.

Leon kissed your cheek before getting off the bed and going to the bathroom. While you waited for him, you tried to keep your eyes open. You didn’t want to sleep, because falling asleep meant that morning would come quicker, and truthfully you didn’t want the morning to come at all. You knew it would be coming no matter what, though – but goddamn it, you tried to prolong it the best you could, even when your eyelids were growing heavier by the second.

Leon came back, now clothed in his boxers (that you didn’t even notice he had thrown back on), a small washcloth in hand, and a glass of water that he set on the bedside table. He pushed your legs apart yet again and wiped you clean, touching you so gently as if you were some kind of porcelain doll. It only made your heart grow fonder. You were going to miss these moments of tenderness.

He made you sit up, just enough so you could drink the water that he had prepared for you. You took a small sip, to which Leon encouraged you to “drink a bit more, sweetheart,” so you did, and when he was pleased, the glass returned to its spot on the bedside table, and shortly after he was crawling underneath the comforter with you.

The warmth of the comforter and Leon’s body next to yours made it even more difficult for you to stay awake. Leon saw you struggling, catching the way you would doze off and then immediately wake yourself back up.

“Please, rest.” He muttered into your hair. You hugged him tighter.

“Do you have to go?” You asked him, even though you knew the answer.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Was all Leon could say in response.

You felt a lonely tear roll down your cheek yet again. But you were far too exhausted to cry some more. Instead, you sat up, looking at Leon intently. He returned your direct eye contact, sitting up himself to lean against the headboard and match your height.

“Promise me,” You started, holding out your hand. Without hesitation, Leon held it, locking your fingers together and giving your hand a slight squeeze.

“Promise me you’ll come back home.” You asked him, like you always did before he left for a mission. Every single time, he would give you the same answer.

“I promise.” He replied firmly. You knew deep down that asking Leon to make promises like this was unrealistic. He never fully understood what he was getting himself into until he arrived at the mission location – and you knew that despite his skills as a trained government agent, accidents always happened, and there was no way to know when things would go awry when he’s out in the middle of nowhere. But hearing him utter those two words before he left eased your worries just enough.

Trusting Leon was always easy.

“I love you.” You said softly, fitting back into Leon’s side perfectly, like you belonged there.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” Leon replied, before tilting your chin up with two gentle fingers and kissing you with a fiery passion. You two lazily kissed each other until sleep started pulling you into its dark embrace. You didn’t fight it this time, resting your head on Leon’s chest and drifting away to the sound of his steady heartbeat.

The next morning, the two of you shared one last breakfast. You mostly sat in comfortable silence. You asked a couple questions about the mission, but didn’t get straight answers – it was confidential. You knew that already but always liked to ask questions anyway.

Right as Leon was about to walk out of your door, you stopped him. You took a few moments just to stare at him – he was as handsome as the day you fell in love with him.

You brushed some hair out of his face, kissing him slowly, savoring the feeling of his lips on yours for these last few minutes. When you pulled away, you were sporting a warm smile, feeling your eyes sting as tears threatened to spill. You kept them at bay.

“Don’t you dare–” You paused, your trembling lips making it difficult to speak. When you collected yourself, breathing in and out, you continued.

“Don’t you dare ruin this jacket. I love it on you.” You said, referring to the brown leather jacket that Leon had bought himself recently and was currently wearing. He had a tendency to ruin clothing items on his missions, and you hoped this one would survive.

Leon chuckled. The sound immediately filled you with warmth. You were going to miss that sound; God knows how long you’d have to go without hearing it everyday.

“Copy that.” Leon replied, a laugh bubbling out of your throat.

You shared one more embrace. The final hug was one the both of had trouble ending. But it had to come to an end eventually.

And then, Leon was gone. All that was left was a memory.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil smut #resident evil 4 remake #resident evil 4 #re4 leon

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cho-aaacho · 5 months

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I love you, truly. There's no doubt in my mind.

Masterlist

Characters : Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Fushiguro Megumi, and Choso.

Gojo Satoru (Childhood Friend)

"Ah, isn't it cute?"

"Yeah."

You simply nodded as Gojo Satoru, your childhood friend, invited you on an aquarium date. It had been a while since you had spent time with him, cherishing these small moments together.

You couldn't recall exactly how long you had known Satoru. As far back as you could remember, you had been his best friend a long time ago, sharing the same blue sky, laughing, lovingly touching each other's hands, playfully giggling, and embracing both his joys, sadness, and happiness.

Some describe him as nonchalant, others as arrogant and annoying, yet to you, he is just like a petite star in the veil of the night sky. So bright yet teasingly distant, just beyond your grasp.

You're acutely aware that being his priority or even dancing in his thoughts is beyond reach. It's clear to you that his actions toward you are merely as friends.

Since high school, your heart has been sealed within him, keeping it concealed within the recesses of your mind.

...why does God plant the seeds of love in your heart only for them to remain unwatered and untouched by Gojo Satoru?

He chuckled upon noticing your prolonged gaze, a soft smile forming on his lips, causing warmth to spread to your cheeks.

"Do you remember when we were kids and you told me you wanted to be a teacher? Well, now I've stolen that dream, and I'm the one who became a teacher," he remarked. "And remember when you said you wanted to become a skilled baker? Well, I stole that dream too!"

You rolled your eyes, feeling a tingle of irritation. "Yeah, you've stolen every dream I have, and I ended up as a pathetic office worker. But... what exactly are you trying to say?"

His attention shifted to the aquarium, snapping a few photos before continuing. "Hmm... what if I were to say I stole your start? How does that sound?"

"What do you mean, Satoru-kun?"

"Yuuji... he mentioned something about this before we set off on our little date. He mentioned that you had planned on something. I don't think he meant to spill the tea because it was supposed to be a secret. But you know how bad Yuuji is at keeping secrets, so, well, he let it slip."

He paused, then added, "The thing you want to say this day is... Satoru-kun, as unbelievable as it may sound, I'm absolutely head over heels for you. I love you."

He giggled. "And since I stole your start, it means, like, you know what I mean, right?"

Now your mind is full of cherry blossoms...

A smile curled on his lips. As he gets closer, your shoulder touches his, making your heart beat so fast. How could he know this so fast? Did he know that you loved him for a very long time?

He shook his head and removed his sunglasses, perching them atop his silver hair. He stared at you with a soft smile. "I love you. Will you be mine?"

Geto Suguru (Boss/Employee Relationship)

"I wish I could see you not only today but every day. Please stay by my side," Geto expressed lovingly.

The memory of Geto's heartwarming words lingered in your mind. It's so endearing, isn't it? How could he leave you with this feeling? Did he even try to find out or ask you after this?

You still remember that time. It was a nice morning during spring, and you both indulged in green tea and sakuramochi on the terrace. Talking about sakura and kakigori. You found yourself just nodding and smiling, unable to find the words to respond.

Perhaps... you're too shy to face him, or it was the shock of his unexpected confession, considering your interaction with him is always in a formal atmosphere.

His words were consistently warm, polite, and kind towards everyone, but sometimes they left you confused about whether they were sincere or merely of his inherent kindness.

But you knew too well; it's just a part of Geto's natural charm. Despite occasional rudeness towards non-jujutsu-shi, everyone adored him for his personality, a trait you've always loved in your deepest heart.

This time, Geto invited you to the planetarium. He expressed being in a good mood to take you out, releasing his desire to spend quality time together, and affirming that you're the only one who fits with him on this date.

Despite the comments from everyone that the date was so childish and corny, you eagerly accepted the invitation. You loved this idea.

He said he has always loved stars and planets since he was a little kid, and this kind of date would refresh his sweet childhood memory.

That morning, when he came out of his room, it was the first time you saw Geto dressed casually instead of in his priestly attire. You couldn't help but notice how effortlessly appealing he looked, hinting at his charm, his pretty face, and his warm eyes. Everything about him is indeed beautiful.

"Shall we?" he said, extending his hand. You felt the warmth and gentleness of his palm as you squeezed it, eliciting a chuckle from him.

His large palm brought a sense of protection and security as it touched your skin, making you happy. It was the first time you felt such intensity from touching Geto Suguru, sparking curiosity about whether he had done this with anyone else.

"Are you happy?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

"Of course, Geto-san. How could I say no to an invitation from someone like you? I'm grateful for your company."

He nodded and smiled, then paused. "So... would you mind if we did this again in the future? Perhaps... for something more romantic and intimate?"

You blushed. "Um..."

"Oh, sorry if I confused you. What I meant is," he leaned in closer, gently touching your hair, then traced your jawline with a smile.

"I understand if you don't see it as romantic, but, well, I'd like to ask if you want to meet my friend next week. She's a talented designer and has crafted some beautiful wedding dresses."

"What do you mean?"

He chuckled. "I was thinking of having you try on her wedding dress. I know she has one that would look stunning on you. I envision you wearing it, sitting by my side, like a good couple, because... I want to marry you."

Nanami Kento (Secret Admirer)

"Oh, flowers?"

Haibara teased, peeking over from his desk with a mischievous grin. It's been a month now since you started receiving these surprises. Adorned at your desk whenever you come to the office in the morning.

At first, it was just a card, but then the next week came flowers, followed by your favorite cake, coffee, and even a keychain featuring your beloved mascot. Yet, each gift arrives without a sender's name, leaving you intrigued.

You attempt to inquire with your coworkers, hoping to find alternatives and answers from them. Unfortunately, they seem unaware of the sender's identity, giving a hint that they can't help you with this.

"Aren't you happy that you have a secret admirer? I can see it in your eyes," Nanami says, his gaze fixed on the computer screen as his fingers dance across the keyboard.

"I'm just wondering why they're hiding all these gifts and remaining anonymous. I'm not a teenager anymore; this kind of thing only makes me anxious, you know."

He pauses briefly, shifting his attention from the computer to you, who is engrossed in checking documents at your desk.

"I wouldn't consider the sender creepy or anything, because whoever it is seems to have a deep understanding of me. Like, when I mentioned to Haibara-kun that I had a migraine, the next day I received migraine medicine."

Paused, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. "Or when I mentioned I wanted to eat chocolate truffles, the next day they appeared on my desk. None of this feels coincidental, I must admit."

You stroke your chin thoughtfully. "I suppose... I appreciate it when someone shows they care about me, but it'd mean even more if I knew who they were. You see, I've always been alone since I was a child, so when someone shows me their kindness, I'll love them sincerely."

"So, what are you going to do with this?" Nanami's voice was tinged with anxiety.

"Maybe I'll bake a cake or something for them as my gratitude. My grandma gave me a recipe for baking a cake, and she called it Cake For Someone Special."

You force a smile and gaze at him. "But, I'll probably say goodbye to them if I have met them, and... thank you?

Nanami's voice changed, sounding anxious. "Eh... why?"

You chuckled. "The manager transferred me to another office. It's a new office for what I know, and they needed a new staff."

After hearing this, a burning sensation stirred within Nanami. He attempted to quell it by conjuring thoughts in his mind. But a question flooded his thoughts: How could this happen to me? Should I reveal the truth? That I—

"Nanami-san..." You began taking on a mysterious tone. "You know... everyone has unique handwriting. Do you believe that each person's handwriting is unique?"

He frowned but remained silent.

"I've been observing all my coworkers and noticed that each of them has a different handwriting. Well, some share similarities, but there are still noticeable differences."

You glanced at him. "And your handwriting, Nanami-san, is truly remarkable. It seems to reflect your personality—kind, caring, and observant."

You continued, "Some believe that handwriting can reveal a person's personality. I don't claim to be an expert, but I've noticed similarities between your handwriting and our little anonymous. So, are you—"

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his words trailing into the air.

"Yes, I know it sounds ridiculous and weird. I was the one who sent you gifts, cards, and everything. I know I may sound creepy or cheesy, but... I just want to share my feelings with you. Sorry if I'm not gentle enough with all of this, but please... don't leave me. I'll send the gifts once again, with my name on them, as long as you remain by my side."

It felt a bit odd hearing Nanami speak those words in front of you at the office. Yet, deep down, there was a sense of joy upon hearing them. Something inside you is blooming like a flower. Beautiful.

You chuckled softly and whispered, "Who said I'm going to leave you? I simply mentioned that our manager might transfer me, but I'm not necessarily agreeing with it. So how about we grab lunch after this? And we can talk about this later, right, Nanami-san?"

Oh... Lord, how smoothly Haibara's plan was working on Nanami. It was quite satisfying...

"And, again, Nanami-san. I'll never leave you."

Fushiguro Megumi (cuteness)

He adores flowers. Everything about them always makes his heart float like a delicate feather. He can't recall exactly when his love for flowers began, but it's likely influenced by his sister.

As one of the florists in town, Megumi loves to visit you to admire the flowers and buy some for his sister.

It's quite uncommon to find a man with such a sweet appreciation for flowers. He explained that it stemmed from his sister's passion, and he loves cherishing and feeling happiness from them.

For you, it's delightful to connect with someone who shares similar interests, and you hold this bond with Megumi.

Megumi has also taken the time to learn Hanakotoba, and he happily shares his knowledge with anyone, including you.

Whenever he talks about flowers, you can see the kindness in his eyes and the warmth of his compassionate smile, sometimes leaving you feeling a bit bashful.

One day, when he visits you, there's an air of gloom and sadness surrounding him.

Though you're unsure of what has transpired, you detect a hint of sorrow in his demeanor.

He may be reluctant to divulge the details, or perhaps he's attempting to shield his sadness, but it's clear that he needs someone to confide in or share his sorrow.

"Are you alright? You seem rather down," you remark, your gaze drifting to the orchids nearby.

"I... I'm not sure if I am. It's just... you know, a little problem."

You couldn't help but chuckle at the fleeting glimpse of upset in his eyes. Still wondering how to cheer him up? Perhaps you could try a bouquet for free or a comforting cup of hot chocolate for your dear friend.

It's so rare to see him this gloomy; usually, he's always seen with a warm smile around you, signaling his comfort in your presence.

But this time... feels different.

"I can help you, Megumi-kun."

He is gazing at you, falling into stillness while brushing back his hair. "I want to give my friend a gift, but I don't know her favorite."

Oh... her?

So... it's because of a woman? What kind of woman is changing Megumi's mood all of a sudden?

There's nothing wrong with that, but why does it feel uneasy to you?

You halt your thoughts and shake your head, knowing it's best not to jump to conclusions.

You tease him and giggle to lighten the mood. "Oh, who is she? Your new girlfriend?"

A hint of blush renders his cheeks, and despite Megumi trying to hide his shyness, you can still see it. Oh... so cute. Cute.

"N-no, it's not quite like that. She's a good friend, someone truly special. She's always there for me, supporting me, showing me love, and I want to express my gratitude somehow."

Deep down... you're aware that his feelings for this woman go beyond friendship. It's evident in Megumi's eyes and the way he proudly talks about her.

"I see..."

Well, he may be in love.

"How about you give her gerberas?"

He frowned. "Why?"

"Well, red gerberas represent unconscious love or being fully immersed in love. It looks like your feelings for her are more than just friendship. But I'm sorry, Megumi-kun. I don't have gerberas."

He smiled softly and nodded. You felt content seeing Megumi's mood shift to warmth, gentleness, and softness, especially when you noticed the sparkle in his eyes when you mentioned gerberas.

"Why do I forget about that one? Thank you for reminding me."

The last thing you remember is that Megumi ran through the entrance, leaving you standing alone in the shop. A sigh escaped from your lips, and a strange emptiness enveloped you, wrapping you alone in the corner.

As you returned home from work, the moments of the day almost faded from your mind until you spotted Megumi standing in front of your apartment.

You have no idea how long he's been there. But it was a beautiful afternoon when the sun went down and was replaced by hues of twilight. All you can see is him grabbing something that looks like a bouquet from afar, but you aren't sure.

"Megumi-kun, what are you doing here?"

Now, as you gazed at him, he stood there, tenderly holding a bouquet in his hand.

"There's something I need to discuss about our relationship, something I need to confirm with you. It might seem trivial, but... I feel it's important to say," he began, his smile warm and genuine.

As he handed you the bouquet, you noticed a bouquet of gerberas nestled within, elegantly wrapped alongside a beautiful envelope. It's simply beautiful, just like him, Fushiguro Megumi. It was perhaps the most exquisite bouquet you'd ever laid eyes on.

Caught between reality and a daydream, you found yourself stuck by Megumi's smile. How could all of this be happening to you? Was it truly meant for you—the flower, the letter, his confession, everything?

"You're simply beautiful, and I love you," he whispered softly. "I want you to be with me."

Choso (First Kiss)

"The rain doesn't seem to be letting up. How are we going to get home?"

"I'm not sure, but stuck in the classroom isn't a good idea. I should hurry home, or my brothers will worry about me."

"Heh, you're such a good big brother."

Rain falling to the ground creates a calming atmosphere. The aroma of moist soil is in your nose. It always leaves a pleasant, romantic impression.

A peculiar feeling began to invade your mind, pleading for assistance in escaping these situations. It was dark and cold, and you hate them. All you could sense were raindrops, Choso's humming, and the ticking of the clock. It leaves a blue atmosphere for you, to be honest.

His eyes gazed at you with a smile on his lips. "Yeah, maybe we could use an umbrella, but I think you'd hate it if we used that ugly one."

You joking. "An umbrella? Well, maybe it would be nice if we used it. You know, it sounds... romantic."

A warm feeling began to invade your system as you said that. You weren't sure if he could notice or sense the tease, but your rosy cheeks gave it away.

"Oh, you want to try it?"

A smile waltzed across Choso's lips. He studied your face before nodding. His gaze, as warm as the sun, locked onto yours, desperately vying for your attention.

He sidled closer. "You know, just trying... it won't hurt you."

He shared his laughter with you, a symphony of joy that danced through the air.

He reached for his umbrella in his bag. "I'm not lying," he said. "I always brought an umbrella from home; so shall we?"

Your gaze swept over him, scanning what the umbrella looked like. Well, it doesn't seem bad, like he said earlier, despite how tiny it was. It could fit both of you. Choso is a tall man, but you're sure that the umbrella will fit both of you. And you think it will be good if you're close to him.

"What do you think?" His words hung in the air like a playful challenge. "Would you like to try it?"

You nodded in agreement and, without thinking. Now that your attention is drawn to the outside, the raindrop is still falling but not as heavy as before.

You can't seem to remember everything clearly; it all happened so fast. From what you recall, you're both already outside with Choso under the same umbrella. The atmosphere is cold and freezing. It's been a long time since you've shared an umbrella with someone, let alone been this close.

You try to calm yourself by closing your eyes, but in reality, you are unable to move an inch of your very fingers. It's so weird, to be honest.

"Are you okay?" Choso's voice brought you back to reality. You gazed at him and noticed that your face and his were close, almost touching his nose.

...at this rate, he'll be...

"N-no, I'm okay..."

"Come closer," he whispered. "I don't want you to get wet by the rain, or you'll be sick." He continued. "You don't want me to be closer?"

"No, it's not, Choso-kun. I just..."

He leaned in, closing the gap between you and him. Making your face even blushier than before. "You know Nobara says when you're this close with someone, you should kiss them. Do you want to try it too? Well, this is my first time kissing someone; I just want to try."

"Oh... Choso—"

But before you could respond to him, his lips had already met yours, sealing you with a warm and gentle kiss, leaving you breathless, vulnerable, and willing to surrender.

For someone who claims it was his first time, his kiss was actually good—not rushed or forced, just a tender and soft kiss from someone you love dearly.

He whispered between the kisses. "Promise me you'll stay like this..."

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi x reader #choso x reader #choso x you #choso jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen

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dejwrldarchived · 9 months

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summary — the story of how international rockstar & the international pop star met at gojo satoru's party

warning readers discretion is advised ⸻accumulated word count of 4.9k, female reader, rockstar!choso, popstar!reader, famous jjk au, told in third pov (choso pov), mentions of gojo being an actor, alcohol consumption, profanity, mentions of yuji, kechizu, & eso, kechizu and eso are described as humans, mentions of choso winning a grammy, mentions of grandpa itadori owning a onigiri shop, setting: tokyo, japan, thigh fucking, do not do the do in your grandpa’s onigiri shop, minors do not interact!

sticky note from deja — somebody asked how choso and reader would have met. so i am here to write that! i accidentally deleted the ask lmfao. so here is something quick, that turned into something long. this fic is a standalone from my previous choso fic, it takes place before that fic though | divider credit @/v6que

Choso wasn’t the biggest fan of parties when he had just gotten off tour three days ago and wanted to spend his one-month hiatus disconnecting from practically everything and everyone. He knew as soon as the month ended, it would be crunch time to prepare for his next album—plus being a judge on this music competition show. He wanted to prepare himself mentally and spend time with his brothers. But here he was wall hugging with a drink at one of Gojo Satoru’s parties. The insane thing about this party is that it was at Satoru’s place; he oddly trusted every celebrity that littered his place to be comfortable with it. Choso’s anxiety would go through the roof at the thought of someone possibly spilling wine on his couch, but this was Gojo Satoru. If he needed an interior designer to redecorate his place in four days—he’d do it.

“You’ll never guess who just messaged me saying they’re coming through because they’re in Japan for two weeks.” Satoru’s voice shrieked over the music. He waved his phone in Choso’s face so aggressively that Choso couldn’t see what he was showing him.

“The Y/N L/N.” He said. “The three-time Grammy award-winning one!”

“I’m a Grammy winner.” Choso joked, sipping from his cup, and Satoru’s crystal blue eyes stared at the raven-haired male as if he’d grown an extra arm.

“But you aren’t a three-time Grammy award winner, and I know you, Choso. We all know each other.” He corrects as he eyes his best friend, Geto Suguru, playing pool with movie director Nanami Kento. “So, if you see her. Don’t be weird. You tend to be weird around beautiful women.”

Choso’s lips parted to argue, but Gojo just shook his head, not wanting to hear whatever excuse would come out of the rockstar’s mouth before eventually going to tend to his other guests. Choso took that mental note to avoid the woman altogether. He had heard about her. If you didn’t, you had to live under the ground because everyone knew her. Even here in Japan, she had a solid fanbase. She was Pop’s current it girl, and Choso highly doubted she was going anywhere at the time, especially considering that her latest single was Number 1.

As Choso stepped outside on the balcony of Satoru’s luxury penthouse, the sound of the music blasting was left behind as he glanced out at the skyline of downtown Tokyo. His mind attempted to find peace until a voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Crap, someone found my hiding place.”

When Choso glanced over, he saw her. The one that Gojo was raving about her arrival. He straightened himself up, immediately remembering Satoru’s words. He was in front of a rising music legend at the moment. The talk of Japan since the news dropped that she was coming here.

“You do know the party host is currently anticipating your arrival?” He closed the gap between them as she stepped closer so she could hear him a bit better.

“I mean, yeah. But I just wanted to enjoy the alone time before I’m bombarded with the sea of taking selfies with so many people,” She responds with a chuckle. “I stole this bottle of champagne from his bar, though. I hope he doesn't mind.” She sips from the bottle before placing it down.

“You’re hiding from the party, huh? Didn’t think a rockstar wouldn’t be the life of a party right before him.”

Choso’s cheeks heated at her words. One.) Her eyes scanned him as if she was checking him out. Two.) He realized that she may have known who he was.

“I get one month off after a worldwide tour. I kinda didn’t want to use this night partying with people who only hit me up when they want me on the guest lists of their party,” He responds.

“So, what would you do?” The popstar asks.

“Probably hang out with my brothers. It’s been months since I saw them in person.” Choso comments with a sigh. “We have so much catching up to do,”

“Then let’s go,” She responds as she turns around to grab her miniature purse that Choso was sure could only fit about three things at most.

“Huh?” He questions. “Did you not hear me say that the party's host is waiting for you,” He repeats.

“I did, and I want to go with you to hang with your brothers,” She sighs. “I’ve been going to parties since I arrived here in Japan. Missing one won’t hurt,” She pushes the oversized shades on her face with a smile, and Choso felt his cock & heart flutter. “I haven’t been able to enjoy Japan, so why not enjoy it with a rockstar instead.”

Choso chuckles before he nods in agreement. “Well, how do you feel about motorcycles?” He asks. He rocks back and forth on his heels before giving the woman a grin as she is thinking.

“My manager would oppose me getting on one, but my manager isn’t here.” She points out. “So, what the hell.” She throws her hands up. “But we also have another problem.” She peeks over the balcony, and despite being many floors up from the ground, she can still see the flashing of paparazzi cameras.

“Oh, I came in through the backway. I’ve been to Satoru’s penthouse parties many times and learned the many exits and entrances. Don’t worry; your fans won’t get any photos of you leaving a party with some sleazy rock slash alternative musician.” He grins at her and decides to enter the place, fully not expecting her to follow behind him.

Choso can only imagine the photos if they were caught together. They probably would think he was corrupting her, or she was in her bad girl phase. Either way, he didn’t mind. But he hated people in his business, and being seen with her meant people would be in his business. It’s a reason why he’s paying off restitution to a paparazzi guy. The guy was in his business, and Choso may have broken his camera.

“Wait up! I’m coming!” Her voice screams over the music as she catches up to Choso to grab upon the black leather jacket he wore.

Just like that, the international rock and pop stars quickly left Gojo Satoru’s party. Choso had taken the elevator to the second floor, Y/N not far behind him as she was more aware of her surroundings than he was. Then, they used the emergency fire exit to exit the building. There, Choso’s BMW R18 motorcycle was where he left it. He picked up the spare helmet and gave it to Y/N.

“Just hold on to me. I promise I won’t hurt the world’s favorite pop princess.” He pulled the helmet over his face as she giggled at his comment.

“I hope not because my fans would want your head on a pike.” She smirked as she got on the motorcycle right after him. Instantly, Y/N’s arms are snaking around his waist.

“Well, good thing I also have insane fans.” Choso backfires before turning on the motorcycle, the engine roaring out Y/N’s snarky comment in response.

Choso knew that his brothers probably were at Yuji’s grandfather's onigiri shop because on Fridays, it’s busier than usual, and the old man was too stubborn to hire anybody else when he had (and Choso quote) ‘strong grandsons to help an old man out.’ Choso did not pay for the ten-year-old shop renovations for him having to come back from tour to throw on an apron and go home smelling like seawood and rice. But it was pretty late; the shop was probably closed, and his siblings were circled around a table eating what hadn’t been sold. Yuji would blabber on about his senior year and exams. Because of his dance classes, Eso would most definitely have his leg prompted up on a chair with bags of ice on it. In contrast, Kechizu head would be into his Steam deck console to even care about Yuji swiping fish cakes off his plate. He knew his brothers like he knew the lyrics he wrote; they were imprinted in his brain because they were all he had if fame, money, and luxury were taken away.

When he parked the motorcycle, he helped Y/N off it and removed the helmet. “I hope you like Onigiri.” He says.

“Well, I only tried it once from a convenience store.” Her fingers combed through her braids that traveled down her back before smoothing out the black jumpsuit she wore.

“I promise these are better.” He held the door open for her, and as he had expected, the place was closing. Chairs were placed on most tables except for the one his brothers occupied.

All of them had different dads; it was a frequent talking point in Choso's interviews with magazines, radio stations, and so on. Yes, the world knew their mother, who wasn’t the best mom—slept around. It wasn’t a secret; maybe it did help some bloggers throw jabs at him. However, Choso wasn’t ashamed of where he came from and how he was raised. Regardless if all his brothers looked differently, they were still his brothers. So what if Yuji resembled his father with his pastel pink-shaded hair and bright eyes? Or Eso, who was the tallest despite being the middle child and he had a passion for ballet dancing. Then Kechizu, who people assume was the youngest, was as quiet as can be—very observant but knew every fuckin’ fact about some retro video game. They all acted so differently—looked so differently, but they were still so close as if they were raised in the same household.

“Holy shit!” Yuji exclaimed as his eyes beamed at the door when he saw Choso and Y/N walk in. “Holy shit!” He repeated.

“Language,” Choso exclaimed as he stepped forward to ruffle Kechizu’s green-colored hair. The second youngest child swatted his brother’s hand as he tried to continue to play Fortnite. “Do we have room to add another to the table?”

“Of course, the Y/N L/N is in my presence. Todo is going to freak out when I tell him.” Yuji squeals as he moves his chair over for Choso to add a chair in between him and Yuji for the pop star.

Y/N gives them a smile that Choso has seen her give to many people—interviewers, musicians, her fans. She took the seat in between Yuji and himself, and Choso couldn’t help but to slap the back of his younger brother's head as the pastel pink-haired teenager leaned back to take a peek at Y/N’s while she sat down.

“So are you two like-”

“It’s none of your business,” Choso interjected as he glared at Yuji because he just had to be the curious cat within the brothers.

The group continued to eat, with small conversations about things from the tour to Y/N’s music. Even though she had just met his brothers, she fit in perfectly with them. Granted, he didn’t like that she did about five math problems for Itadaori. The way she made the room feel much brighter made Choso’s cheeks heat as he observed the room. Now she was talking about dance with Eso, completely lost in the topic as they gushed about the first dance classes they took.

“I was eight when I took my first dance class. It was ballet; I practically had two left feet.” She chuckles after taking a bite of the onigiri. “You have wonderful legs, Eso, so I know you’re a killer dancer.” She compliments him.

Her glossed lips formed a straight line as she thought about something, “You know, I have a show at this festival before I go home. If you don’t have any plans, I’m down a dancer for my team. I know it’s short notice, but some pretty important people will be in the crowd…” Her voice trails off as a smile appears on Eso’s face. “Only if you’re down. Don’t feel pressured because it’s me.”

“I would be honored. Send me where you guys rehearse, and I’ll be there.” Eso smiles at her as they exchange phone numbers and socials.

“Well, since you’re giving out opportunities. Can you set me up to meet a couple of people?” Yuji opened the notes app on his phone with his list. “Jennifer Lawrence, Tom Holland, maybe Megan thee Stallion too.”

“You have a rockstar older brother. Why can’t you ask him?” Y/N questioned as her eyes playfully glared at Yuji.

“He said, and I quote…I refuse for you to embarrass me.” Yuji mocked Choso’s tone and was met with a chopstick thrown at him.

Just as Choso was about to interject, Wasuke Itadori came from behind, questioning who would close up. Silence overcame the group, and Yuji even slumped lower in his seat to prevent himself from being chosen. He had closed the shop for three days straight because his brothers were ever so busy with their lives.

“Choso, since you have a guest…you guys will close up.” Wasuke tugged on his jacket just as Yuji and the others collected their things to leave. “Before you lie and say you have some band thing, I know you’re off tour and on vacation.”

“Shit,” Choso uttered as he stood to collect the shop’s keys from the older guy. “We’ll clean up and lock up the shop. Don’t need to worry.”

“Good, and don’t keep your lady friend out so late. That’s not very gentlemanly. But what can I say? Chivalry is dead when it comes to your bunch.” He gives Y/N a wink as he leads the others out of the shop, leaving the two musicians all alone.

“You have a unique family.” Y/N stands.

“You don’t have to stay to help me close up? Like he said, I don’t want to keep you out so late.” Choso tears his leather jacket off and tosses it on one of the chairs.

He sported a black t-shirt that reasonably fitted him. His biceps bulged just a bit with each flex of him picking up dishes to clean them in the kitchen. Even Y/N couldn’t help but stare as he moved around the eating area.

“I don’t mind helping, plus you’re kinda my ride back to where I’m staying.” She collected the other dishes and followed Choso into the kitchen.

“Well, let’s hurry because I don’t want to have you out too late. You probably have something to do in the morning.”

“Just rehearsal that starts at noon.”

“I remember those days. Gosh, so glad the tour is over with.” He emptied the plates and put the dishes in the sink.

“How was the tour for you? From the looks of social media, it seemed like it wasn’t a dull moment,” She points out as she rolls her sleeves up. She took the place next to Choso with a cloth to dry the dishes that Choso was washing.

“Fun. Sometimes, I love being on the road, but I like being around my family more. I get homesick like shit when I’m touring. But when I go out and perform—do what I love to do, and it reminds me why I do it.” Choso explains while passing a dish to Y/N to dry. “It feels like just yesterday I was singing in bars in Roppongi district.”

When he turned his head, he was met with her gaze. His whole body betrayed him because he immediately felt the heat in his cheeks. When Choso blushed, it was as noticeable as can be. His cheeks turned an embarrassing shade of red that took minutes to go away.

“I’m sure your brothers are very proud of you.” She smiles and places another plate to the side.

“What about you? It’s your first time performing here?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’m nervous. But it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

He hummed at her words before the two returned to washing the dishes. Their arms briefly bump into each other, and they find themselves uttering apologies for something so subtle.

“So, I’m curious to ask. Since other than the news of you performing at this music festival this week. Are you still dating that guy? That actor…” His voice trails off, wondering if that was an intrusive question.

“Why’d you ask? For yourself or your little actor friend Satoru?” Her elbow nudges against his side after she puts another dried plate to the side.

Choso was quiet for a second. When he talked to Gojo earlier, the actor didn’t seem interested in the popstar—but it was Gojo. He had his way of trying to get with someone that left many (including Gojo) confused. Choso wouldn’t deny that Y/N was attractive, but he knew she had heard it from many guys. Perhaps she didn’t want someone to view her in a lens that she’s used to the whole world viewing her as. The sultry, sexy popstar whose Playboy photoshoot went viral on every social media platform down to fuckin’ Reddit.

“Who knows with Satoru? His publicist ensures his love life is on lock. But for me, I don’t know either.” He foolishly admits. He grabbed a hand towel, dried his hands with it, and turned to face the hideous cat clock that was ticking with each second.

“You don’t know?” She asked; she stepped in front of him, blocking his view of the clock—but of course, Choso didn’t mind.

Choso sighs and tosses the cloth to the side, “If I admit it, I’ll feel like I’m viewing you in the same lens that every other guy views you as. The sexy pop star who caused a guy to faint when he met you,” Choso chuckles. “Just forget I asked..”

“Hm, you view me as something other than a sexy pop star.” She stepped forward, and Choso could get a whiff of warm vanilla-scented perfume. Her eyes glanced up at him through her lashes, and again, she saw the faint red color stain Choso’s cheeks.

“From this conversation and you ditching a party despite being the main reason everyone came, I can tell that you want to be viewed through a lens other than the sexy popstar,” Choso admits. “And I think that’s why you decided to come with me. You knew I would be able to view you in said lens without trying.”

He couldn’t read her expression, but he could tell just by her taking a step forward, suffocating his personal space, that he was correct. He bites at his lower lip before speaking again, stepping forward also. “If I’m right, selfishly enough—I’ll make you mine right now.”

“Quite bold of you to say Mr. Rockstar because if I remember correctly, in your GQ interview, you don’t do relationships because you hate people being in your business. The world’s most popular rockstar slash alternative musician and the pop’s current it girl being together…everyone will be in our business.”

“Fair point, but I guess that’s a risk I’ll take and many NDAs to give out.”

Choso was always a man to make the first move, but here, the popstar was leaping forward to kiss him. Gosh, he let her. If he could, he’ll let her use him as she pleases. His hand guided her to the top of the counter as he kissed her deeply. Her fingers combed through his dark locks of hair, tugging gently for a response just to slip her tongue into his mouth. She tasted so good. It's like the best bottle of champagne that someone can offer. A moan vibrates from the back of Choso’s throat as the two make out. Tongues taste each other like the last meal you two can have.

When they broke apart, Choso cupped Y/N’s face. His thumb drags alongside the soft flesh of her cheeks. “I don’t think we should take this any further in his fuckin’ onigiri shop—but fuck.” He sighs. “I don’t think I can make it to my place.” His eyes averted behind Y/N at the employee bathroom.

It was hardly used, considering that Wasuke practically ran the shop himself. Usually, it is only used when one of the brothers stops by.

“You can’t be that horny not to wait.” Y/N laughs before she feels Choso collect her hand and press it against his crotch. Her eyes enlarged at what she was feeling.

“Look what you’ve done to me; I can’t wait.” His head fell upon her shoulders, and his words were a stubborn whine.

Y/N pushes him back from in between the space of her thighs, and she hops off the counter and walking towards the bathroom. Like a dog receiving a treat, Choso follows behind Y/N in the bathroom. When the two were in the enclosed space, he turned her around so that she was facing the sink. His hands unzipped the front of her jumpsuit while his lips ghosted over her brown skin. He was nipping at spots on her neck like a hormonal college student.

“If I knew that I was going to be receiving dick from the Choso Kamo, I would have worn something much easier to work around.” She helps him pull the upper part of the jumpsuit down.

Her breast broke out the tight spandex material as soon as it came down, and Choso felt him grow even harder—aching, entirely for her. His hands snaked around the front of her waist to feel inside her nude, seamless panties.

If Choso concentrated hard enough, he could feel his precum stain his bottoms at the feel of how wet she was. His index and middle fingers that strummed countless guitars and rubbed slow circles on her clit. With the mirror that was above the sink, he was able to see her come undone. It was similar to pulling at a loose piece of thread on a piece of clothing and watching it unravel with each pull. Y/N melted in front of him. Her plump lips gasped apart to let out a sweet tune: her moans. With each motion of his million-dollar fingers, she moans louder—this time gasping out his name like a lyric in one of the love songs she’s written.

Before Choso wanted to quicken his teasing, he unbuckled his belt quickly. The sound was like music to Y/N’s ears because she attempted to step out of her jumpsuit, but Choso stopped her with a brief slap on her ass. It took her by shock, but she felt herself grow wet at the feeling of the sting going away.

“Who said you were getting my dick tonight?” He asks as he pushes the jumpsuit down.

“I’m the world’s biggest pop star now, I think I deserve it.” Y/N points out as Choso nips at the tip of her ear.

“And I’m the world’s biggest rockstar, with the current #1 album on the charts. So I think I outrank you at the moment.” He smirks as he’s pulling his boxers down just a bit for his cock to spring out beautifully.

“My tour grossed the highest,” She proudly bragged.

“In your dreams, pop star.” Choso's fingers hook the band of her panties, sliding them down—his hand palms at the fatness of her ass.

Choso could give her what she wanted. Stuff her full with his cock, but she’s been given what she wanted ever since she established herself as this star.

“So, you’re just going to edge the world's most popular pop star on like this?” She questions; a teasing tone drops from her tongue, and her eyes stare at him through the mirror.

“Something like that,” Choso brought his hand up to his mouth, gawking up a fair amount of spit to coat his cock in, and his lips curved into a devious smirk seeing Y/N eagerly wiggle herself further on him. His hardened cock poked her, but the musician had other plans.

Instead of helping slide into Y/N’s cunt, his cock wedged in between her thighs—right above the little bit of space of her panties being pulled down. Which was as lewd as can be simply by if Choso would come, his cum not only splattered upon her thighs but decorated her panties also. With the first rock of his hips, while his cock was between her thighs, the tip of it brushed against Y/N’s folds causing her to moan. The traction causes an incoherent hiss to pass by Choso’s lips as he’s rocking his cock in between her thighs.

“Fuck.” He uttered, realizing that if just thigh fucking Y/N was causing his brain to feel fuzzy like it did when he smoked weed for the first time—how the hell was he going to feel when he finally got the opportunity to be inside her. His fingers dug into the flesh of her waist as he’s thrusting his cock inward and outward of her thighs. Each movement caused her breasts to jiggle salaciously, and that seemed to add to the list of little things that turned him in while being crammed in this bathroom with her.

“This isn’t fair,” Y/N shutters over the lewd sound of Choso’s cock thrusting between her thighs.

Even though she would complain about how he was only getting off at this. That her clit was throbbing and aching for attention as Choso’s cock was between her thighs. He didn’t even acknowledge her response but instead used his feet to kick at her own to bring her thighs together just a bit more. Even brought his cock up a little bit more—finally giving the woman what she wanted. His cock was just inches away from rubbing against her folds that were decorated with her slit—occasionally, the tip of his fat cock bribes against them before he guided it back to its rightful place.

“Fuck,” Choso uttered, bringing her closer, her back now placed upon his broad chest as his hips bulldozed his cock forward.

He was trying too hard to imagine that this is what her pussy would feel like. That the fiery pit that grew at an increasing rate in his ball sack was a feeling you’ll get immediately when you indulge in her cunt. A couple more pumps of his cock in between her thighs, Choso’s cum squirts out the tip of his cock. To add to the mess he made in between her thighs, he’s pumping his cock some more sloppily. His thick ropes of cum decorated her thighs and her underwear, and Choso finally went limp as his face was red like a tomato, and his cock was a sticky mess. He just thigh fucked the world’s most famous pop star at the moment in the bathroom of his brother’s grandfather's Onigiri shop.

He reaches behind him at the paper towel dispenser to help clean her up. Silence overcame the two before Choso tossed the dirty paper towels in the trash. His face was heated from the interactions, and that tint of red still decorated his face shamelessly. His hair fell in his face, and some strands stuck to his forehead due to the sweat on it. He pulled his boxers and pants back up, buckling them immediately.

As the two shameless musicians were awkwardly cleaning themselves up, Choso, being the gentlemen, used a wet paper towel to wipe off Y/N’s thighs, and his phone that was shoved in his back pocket rang. He ignored it as he figured it’d be Yuji urging him to grab something he forgot in the shop. Or Gojo asking him where he ran off to. But instead, his manager was spam-calling him each time he didn’t answer the phone.

“You should answer that; it could be an emergency.” Y/N points out while fixing her clothes. She knew that as soon as she stepped foot in the apartment she was renting out, she would take the longest shower. Even so, she adored the scent of Choso imprinting her skin.

“You really can’t transition off a tour without a scandal. What the hell happened to you were going to spend time with your brothers and lay low.” His manager’s voice yells through the phone, causing him to pull the device away from his ear.

“I don’t know what the hell you're talking about.”

“Answer me this, Choso. Are you with Y/N L/N right now?”

Choso’s eyes look at Y/N, who is applying a coat of clear lip gloss. Her body is leaning slightly to be closer to the mirror above the sink.

“Maybe…” Choso’s voice trails off, expecting the worst.

“Well, the world knows you’re with her right now. I sent your bodyguard and a private car to come pick you guys up immediately. They’re probably already surrounding that freakin’ onigiri shop.”

Choso didn’t let his manager talk his head off any second longer as he ended the call to force a smile on his face that Y/N knew something was wrong. She’s seen the fake smiles from many people that she has lost count. Something happened.

“Well, my little popstar. I think our careers are about to take a turn.”

#choso kamo smut #choso smut #choso kamo x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #anime smut #choso fanfic #black reader #female reader #jjk x black reader #angelshubnetwork #⊹˳⁺ ♡ 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝒻𝒾𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

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strangeshoepatrolbandit-alt · 8 months

Text

A Wolf In Sheep's Clothing.

Summary: He's a wolf in sheep's clothing. You're the sacrificial lamb. (What it was like.)

Warnings: Wolf and lamb imagery, mentions of sexual interactions, one of them being Non-Con... I think?("Making love", "fucking", "thrusting".), naivety, mentions of murder and blood, killing Lucy Gray Baird, being a Trophy wife, lies, mentions of breeding, being trapped in a marriage, getting hunted, guns, mentions The Hunger Games, mentions hanging(Sejanus' death), rebellion, being a shell of yourself, being tied up, getting rid of a body(Lucy Gray), toxic relationship, controlling!Coryo, Coriolanus' being 'bony'.

Fem!Reader.

I'm trying something new with my writing.

He lured you in.

He was one of the best Academy students and the only power he had was his name.

He spoke with you over open and discarded books, spewing with his charming words.

Sweet naive you.

He pressed soft kisses to your lips and thrusted in a pattern that made you see stars. Cosmic. Making love.

He was kind to your family, he was kind to your friends. He cared for you.

°•°•°

He was a mentor in the tenth Hunger Games, his tribute was Lucy Gray Baird. He helped her win, cheating for her from behind a screen while you supported him without knowing what he's done.

He was caught, and his punishment was becoming a Peacekeeper. Originally for District 8.

You threw a fit in his bedroom, crying and crying over again, begging the universe to not separate the two of you.

Dependent.

His hands held your face as he looked between both of your eyes, his own going back and forth. Left and right.

"No, you wont." He sounded so firm, but his voice still held the softness he could only have for you. "I'm going to 12. I will make sure to see through with it. You will go to 12."

And like a lamb led to the slaughter, you did.

°•°•°

You watched him beat a man, defending Lucy Gray like she was still his responsibility. You swam in the lake with him, holding onto him and laughing without a care in the world. You broke down with him after Sejanus' death. You stayed in the cabin with him and Lucy Gray.

The three of you planned a future that would get you all killed. You spoke the same words that had your dear friend, Sejanus, hung in front of a galore of witnesses.

Murdered.

Martyr.

You were oblivious to the way Coriolanus was cracking, something finally going off in his brain. He broke down.

He revealed what he's done. He told you both about Sejanus. He's why Sejanus Plinth, Bobbin, and Mayfair are dead.

Backstabber.

Murderer.

Lucy played it cool, keeping her calm as to not draw suspicion.

She grabbed your arm and a basket, making it seem innocent as she told him the two of you were going to pick katniss.

"Lucy Gray," He stared as she opened the door, a bright smile on her face as she gripped you tighter. "It's still raining."

"Well, we're not made out of sugar." And with that, she pulled you out. The two of you walked together until you were out of sight from the cabin windows.

And then you heard him.

Screaming, yelling, gunshots, running.

Cat and mouse.

Snake and bird.

Wolf and lamb.

Lucy Gray was dead beside you, and Coriolanus Snow was her killer. You were on the ground, your lover on top of you, tears spilling from your eyes as you stared at your lifeless friend. Coriolanus' hands dug into the plush of your body while he forced you to stand, holding your wrist with one hand while dragging Lucy with the other.

Back at the cabin, you were bound enough to where you couldn't run, but watching as Coriolanus wrapped up Lucy Gray's body and dumped her in the lake you all swam and laughed in just days before.

"No loose ends." He repeated to you as he forced you into the cabin, tying you to the bed the two of you slept on. "Besides you. But you won't tell anyone, will you?" He asked softly, wiping your tears and pushing back your hair.

You shook your head repeatedly, breathing heavily and staring at him with wide eyes.

"Good." He let out a breath as a smile grew on his face, now caressing one of your cheeks. "Good girl."

He leaned in and kissed you, ridding you of your clothes while you cried. He wasnt sweet. He didn't kiss the tears away, they just seemed to egg him on. This was not making love. He was fucking you while you were vulnerable.

You didn't get to leave Panem. You didn't get to run off and live a fairytale.

Coriolanus brought you back to the Capitol, solidifying you to him by announcing your engagement to him.

He didn't stop. Not even when he moved in with Sejanus' mourning parents, not even when he killed them.

Not even when he became the president, and you the First Lady.

You were both in your twenties, living better than you used to.

Coriolanus was no longer bony, no longer hungry. He no longer wore the clothes his cousin, Tigris, would make him. His hair was no longer buzzed like it was when he was a Peacekeeper, and his personality was different than when he was eighteen.

You're still intimate. You live, work, eat, sleep together. Your womb is warm for his seed. You're married by Panem and Capitol law. But you are not partners. He is the dictator. You're the trophy First Lady. You dress exactly as he likes. You act exactly as he likes. You move exactly as he likes. His word is law. Yours is nothing. And every moment you are his, you wonder what it would be like to not have to dance to his puppet strings.

He lured you in.

Sacrificial lamb.

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x female!reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #tbosas #tbosbas #tbosas x reader #thg series #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader

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philistiniphagottini · 12 days

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*slams door open*!WUTHERING WAVES!? My gamer in arms, may I humbly request Calcharo with his chubby s/o overstimulating them cause he's been gone so long and missed their pussy👉👈

Thank you for the request my brother in arms, I do enjoy Calcharo a lot. I hope you enjoy this horny mess, thanks for indulging me~

cw. smut, penetrative sex, creampie, overstimulation, oral sex (fem receiving), female reader, female chubby reader, minors DO NOT interact

“Ah, Calcharo~”

You choked on a hiccup of pleasure, kiss swollen lips parted around his name as your voice dripped from your tongue like cloyingly sweet honey. Heat licked at the base of your spine and slowly pooled into the pit of your stomach, making your toes flex into the soles of your feet as you writhed between the sweat soaked sheets with bliss. Your lashes fluttered over your burning cheeks, pulse pounding in your ears as you raked your nails over Calcharo’s broad shoulders; desperate to find purchase and hold on for dear life as he drove his cock into your fat cunt with an almost animalistic intent. It had been far too long since he had felt the warm hug of your pussy and it was already driving him to the brink of madness as his cock ached to fill you with another thick load.

His skin was scorching hot as a bolt of electricity raced along the curve of your spine, the tips of your fingers tingling with numbness as you tangled them in his long mane of silver locks. A warm puff of air curled around your skin as Calcharo nuzzled his face between the scorching valley of your tits, tongue lapping at the beads of perspiration dotting your clammy skin as your taste lingered in the back of his throat. He swallowed the budding saliva on his tongue as he drove his dizzyingly thick girth deeper into the soused walls of your pussy, splitting apart the slick folds with every firm rut of his hips as he nudged the tip of his weeping cock deeper into your already messy cunt. His grip on the sheets beside your head tightened, fingers threatening to tear the fabric asunder as another groan stirred in his throat. He stared down at you with lidded eyes, unable to tear his gaze away from the sumptuous sway of your plump body. Saliva pooled in his mouth once more as he sucked the pert tip of your nipple into the hot, wet cavern of his mouth, tongue flush to the bud as his teeth grazed the sensitive flesh.

You struggled to peel your tongue off the roof of your mouth, your salacious moans bouncing off the walls and filling the stuffy air of your bedroom. You could barely hear your own thoughts over the slick sound of skin slapping against skin in a carnal dance, causing the hot knot in the pit of your stomach to twist tighter. Your blood simmered hotly in your veins as your pussy squelched from the previous loads stuffing you full, slick pearls beading along the seam of your silky soft lips. You shivered under the touch of Calcharo’s wandering hand, the tips of his fingers calloused after countless harrowing battlefields. Every hair on the nape of your neck stood on end as he moaned hotly around the teat stuffed in his mouth, beads of slick dripping down the soft insides of your thick thighs under the lashing of his sharp tongue as his hand groped your body, like he was trying to commit every dip and curve of your skin to memory. A sharp gasp whistled through your teeth as his hand grabbed the soft skin of your round stomach until the plush pudge spilled between the splayed digits of his fingers.

You shrieked as he pinched your nipple between his teeth, rolling it along his tongue like he was savouring a sweet as your chubby pussy struggled to swallow him. Beads of your slick dripped down the sides of his girth as he carved a path deeper inside of you, brushing up against the soft, gummy patch that made stars swirl in your wavering vision. Your heart leapt up into your throat as you raked your nails along the hard lines of his back, earning you a throat groan of approval as you dragged your fingers over the rough edges of his scars and soothed the aching burn smouldering just beneath his skin. Your tongue felt like it was made of lead as you tried to speak, struggling to think past the thick haze swirling in your mind as your body continued to climb higher with sordid rapture.

“Cal…charo” you whined with a heavy slur. “I’m gonna- gonna cum.”

The pace of his hips increased and your thighs tightened around his waist, threatening to slip as you trembled along with the violent shake of the bed frame. He let go of your breast with a loud pop, your skin sticky and wet with his saliva as he blazed a path of fire over the swell of your tits and along your collarbone. You tipped your head back until it hit the comfortable confines of your pillow with a dull thud and you exposed your throat to his hungry gaze. You could feel his cock move intimately beneath your skin, forming a small bump in your soft belly as he smothered his boiling arousal against your cervix. A constellation of tears clung to the edges of your lashes from the sudden pressure coiling in your belly. It felt like your bones were going to turn to dust as Calcharo continued to grind against you, pelvis clapping against the aching nub of your clit as the tightly packed bundle of nerves shrieked from the attention. You dug the heels of your feet into the beautiful dip in his back, urging him to press closer until you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. Your lungs pinched in your chest as Calcharo’s hand anchored to your hip, grip bruising against the plump skin and threatening to leave behind indents. He dragged his tongue along the hollow of your throat, your pulse jumping beneath the press of his bruised lips as your body teetered just on the edge of the crumbling precipice, the pressure in your stomach thrashing around like a caged animal. You caught Calcharo’s smouldering gaze through lidded eyes bloated by tears of pleasure, long strands of silver hair falling over your shoulders like a curtain of fine silk. His breath ghosted along your skin as he tasted the shape of your mouth, voice gruff and on the razor thin edge of breaking when he spoke one, simple word.

“Cum.”

You finally reached your breaking point. The hot coil inside of you shattered into tiny fragments, your orgasm tearing through your body without remorse, nor surrender. Your veins were flooded with white hot euphoria, your pussy spasming around Calcharo’s massive cock as your slick juices gushed from your sore pussy and spilled forth onto his abdomen. The feeling made him lightheaded as your pussy squirted around him, plush walls squeezing him impossibly tight as he smothered your womb with the fat head of his cock. He swore something foul under his breath before he marked you with his teeth, carving sharp indents into your flesh as he came undone with a loud grunt. He made you ride out the intense waves of your own lingering pleasure, your pussy still fluttering as he buried himself to the hilt inside of you. He groaned as ropes of his hot, viscous seed coated your walls, the thick, creamy warmth making your abdomen tingle as you were filled to the brim. The warmth overflowed and dribbled down your trembling thighs as he rocked forward, filling you with another heavy, creamy spurt that made you whine. You had already lost count how many times he had brought you to this exact same high tonight.

His soft pants puffed against your oversensitive skin as you struggled with your own laboured breaths. You stared at the top of his head in a daze, senses sluggishly crawling back to you as your head continued to spin. Calcharo slowly lowered your tired legs back to the mattress, a sigh of relief breezing past your lips as the strain in your muscles was eased. His strong hands were a soothing balm as he traced his fingertips over your skin, coaxing the tension out of you as you pawed at his body with shaky hands.

“Calcharo” you murmured softly.

“I’m here” he responded.

A wince of pain flashed across your face as he removed himself, yet you still arched up into his touch when his tongue dipped past the seam of your lips to indulge in a taste. Your drooling pussy clenched around nothing as you mourned the loss of warmth, a combination of both of your slick dripping down your thighs in thick rivulets. You weren’t feeling empty for long as Calcharo repositioned himself between your parted thighs, until his mouth was hovering over the wet seam of your pussy. The smouldering embers in your stomach were sparked back to life as you felt his breath ghost along you, toes curling into the soles of your feet as you stuffed your bottom lip between your teeth. He leaned forward, burying his nose in soft curls of pubic hair as he took a deep breath. A purr rumbled in his chest as he pulled away, thumbs spreading the fat lips of your messy cunt as he admired the delicious sight of your combined slick seeping through the soft petals of your folds.

“I missed this pussy.”

His hands pawed at your hips before slipping down your thick thighs, grabbing at the scruff of your backside as he drew you into his salivating mouth. A sharp hiss of air whistled through your clenched teeth as Calcharo sucked the swollen nub of your clit into his mouth and sucked. Your hips jolted, chasing the warm sparks of friction of his tongue dragging against the hood of your clit even as your overstimulated nerves twinged with exhaustion.

“Sensitive” you said, tears of pleasure dripping down your flushed cheeks.

You felt so pleasantly and helplessly weak beneath him, basking in his attention as he played your body like a finely tuned instrument. Your body teetered on the fine line of too little and too much. You didn’t know if you wanted to push him away or draw him in closer. All you could manage to do was whine and weakly tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling on the strands as a moan stung his throat and the vibrations went straight to your core. Your eyes slipped close as his tongue lapped at the dripping hole he had been so passionately fucking earlier with his cock, stirring your appetite for him once more as he drank your combined slick like it was a sweet nectar and he indulged in you once more.

#my writing #request #anon #wuthering waves #wuwa #wuwa smut #wuthering waves smut #wuthering waves calcharo #wuwa x reader #wuthering waves x reader #calcharo x reader #fem!reader #x chubby reader #nsft

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gliphyartfan · 6 days

Text

@yanderelinkeduniverse @stars-for-thought @imprisioned-in-the-hole @screaming-until-god-hears-me @crestfallenmermaidan @ice-cream-writes-stuff @linked-heroes @eternadreeblissa

So thank you love @lovanmari for dragging me away from my humble ditch to finish this wip that I have not looked at for over a year (maybe more I don’t even remember.)

Plus my recent rewrite for Hyrule really made me wanna write more about him and his interactions with his Fae Fam~

Yandy! You may recall the start of this wip!

Anywho, enjoy folks!

At first, it seemed like she was merely under the weather.

There was nothing to suggest it was anything more serious. She brushed off any concerns, always giving them a reassuring smile that never quite reached her eyes.

Days passed, and her condition worsened. Her skin grew clammy, and she started to withdraw more often.

She tried to push through, to hide her growing discomfort.

Her fever spiked suddenly one evening while she was helping Wind gather wood. She stumbled, her breath coming in shallow gasps, before collapsing against a tree with a pained whimper. She curled into herself, tears spilling down her cheeks as her body shook from the fever's relentless assault.

It was Twilight who reached her first, gathering her up in his arms and holding her close as the others rushed to make camp.

His heart pounded with fear as she trembled in his arms, her body so limp it was terrifying. Warriors and Time raced into the nearby town for medicine, while Four and Wind stayed behind with Twilight, trying to bring her some relief.

Hyrule had been the first to try and heal her, pouring every ounce of magic he had into her weakened body. But the illness that plagued her was stubborn, festering in a way his magic couldn’t entirely purge.

His hands soon trembled with exhaustion as he continued to try, his magic flickering like a dying flame. When he finally collapsed, drained and pale, Warriors and Time forced him to sleep, both men looking shaken by how serious things had gotten.

The camp was quiet now, the only sound the crackle of the fire and the occasional murmur of wind through the trees. Four sat beside her, watching the sweat bead across her brow, his own fear tightening around his chest. Her skin burned to the touch, and her breath came in ragged, uneven gasps.

His fingers carded through her damp hair in an attempt to soothe her when she suddenly stirred, blinking up at him with glassy, fever-bright eyes.

“You... guys… always do everything... for nothing,” she muttered weakly, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“Shh,” Four hushed her gently, adjusting her so she could sit up and drink some water. He raised the bottle to her lips, helping her take a few slow sips. “Don’t talk. You need to rest.”

“No...” she slurred, her words thick with exhaustion and fever, her gaze unfocused. “You... you do so much. Get hurt. Fight... And no one ever thanks you.”

Four swallowed hard, wiping her forehead with a damp cloth. “That’s not true. We’ve been thanked plenty of times.”

“No...” She shook her head, her movements sluggish. “No one sees you... they see the hero... just the hero.” Her breath hitched as more tears spilled down her cheeks. “You get hurt for people... and they don’t see how much it costs.”

Four’s brow furrowed, the weight of her words pressing down on him. He tried to brush it off, to deflect with his usual gentle humor, but the raw pain in her voice made it impossible. She wasn’t thinking straight, delirium clouded her mind, but there was truth buried in her fevered rambling. He stayed silent, not sure what to say.

“It’s not fair...” she whispered, her voice cracking as her tears began to fall faster. “It’s not fair what you’ve been through. It’s not right...”

“(Y/n)...” Four’s voice was soft, barely audible over her quiet sobs. He rested his hand on her arm, trying to ground her.

“I don’t want you to do this if it’s just because you have to,” she whimpered, her fingers curling weakly into the fabric of his tunic. “I don’t want you to hurt anymore.”

Four’s heart twisted painfully in his chest, her words hitting him harder than any enemy ever could. He opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off with a trembling sob.

“I hate it... I hate that no one ever told you... it’s unfair. What happened to you... to all of you. It’s not right.”

Her grip on his tunic tightened, her fevered mind pushing her emotions to the surface. She was breaking down in front of him, unraveling at the seams, and he didn’t know how to stop it.

“Don’t cry...” Four whispered, his voice cracking. “Please don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry...” she whimpered, her voice barely more than a broken whisper. “I’m so sorry you gave up so much... for a world that only wants you to fight their battles for them.”

Her words hung in the air like a heavy fog, and Four felt something inside him shift, like the walls he kept around his heart were starting to crack.

Suddenly, her hand reached out, and she brought his fingers to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles. The small gesture nearly shattered him.

“I can’t... fix this...” she whispered, her voice so faint he barely heard it.

"It’s alright, please understand that," Four said softly, his voice trembling, his control over his emotions slipping.

Vio’s presence immediately took over as the rest of the colors allowed him full control, he gently laid her back down.

She weakly protested, trying to stay awake, but Vio’s gentle assertiveness soothed her into submission.

He tucked her under the blankets, his eyes watching her every move, noting the way her body still shivered from the fever.

"It’s not fair..." she mumbled one last time before finally slipping into a fitful sleep.

Vio stood, expression unreadable as he watched over her. "No," he whispered, more to himself than to her. "It’s not fair."

——

They had all promised her it would pass soon, and she believed them, trying to put on a brave face and push through. But as the days stretched on, her strength slipped away bit by bit.

Despite their reassurances, she grew weaker. Then, she needed help just to stand up after resting, and eventually, even sipping water became impossible without assistance.

They would guide the cup to her lips, murmuring words of encouragement, but her hands shook too much to hold it herself. She could barely swallow without wincing, each small action taking all of her energy. The cold bite of the world touching her skin was nothing compared to the fire in her veins.

And still, they kept their promises. They told her she would get better, that they’d find a way.

But no matter how brave a face they put on when she was awake, when her eyes closed, their masks slipped. Desperation took hold.

And she could sense it, the fraying edges of their composure, the way their voices wavered when they thought she wasn’t listening. When they thought she was fully asleep.

Hyrule was the worst of them. He was burning through his magic faster than anyone could stop him, draining potions to the last drop to restore his strength.

He would kneel at her side, whispering incantations, hands glowing as he tried to heal her. Every time, the warmth of his magic brought a brief flicker of relief.

The pain would ebb just for a moment, and she could breathe easier, but the reprieve never lasted. As soon as the magic faded, the agony crashed back into her, harsher than before.

She didn’t blame him. How could she? She could see the way his eyes dimmed with every failed attempt, the way his hands shook as he poured every last ounce of himself into trying to save her.

Even when she weakly begged him to stop to not drain himself so harshly, Warriors pulling him back to rest and Time stepping in with stern words, Hyrule fought to stay awake, refusing to give up.

He looked at her with such sorrow, as if he were the one hurting her.

But it wasn’t his fault. She wanted to tell him, to tell all of them, that none of this was their fault.

Even if they were blaming themselves for her suffering, she didn’t hold any of it against them. How could she, when they were trying so hard? When every one of them was wearing themselves thin just to keep her alive?

They didn’t sleep. Not really. Twilight kept watch over her when she drifted off, his eyes never leaving her face.

Wild hovered nearby, fingers itching to fix something, anything, even though there was nothing for him to do. Time and Warriors were constant pillars of the group, keeping the busy so they didn’t stew in their anxiety, but she could feel the weight of their worry pressing down like a storm cloud about to burst.

The only time they ever showed how close they were to breaking was when they thought she couldn’t see, when they thought she was lost in the haze of fever or unconscious from exhaustion.

But she saw it. She saw the way Four clenched his fists, the way Wind paced, muttering curses under his breath.

Even Legend, normally so composed, had moments where he faltered.

And Hyrule... Hyrule’s guilt was eating him alive.

He would sit by her side, barely holding back his frustration, his despair. His magic, the one thing that had always brought hope, couldn’t heal her, and he couldn’t bear it.

But even in her haze, even as the pain throbbed in every corner of her body, she didn’t blame them. Not for a second.

They had done everything they could.

——

The days stretched into a blur of desperation, punctuated by moments of gut-wrenching fear and fleeting hope. It had been nearly a week since her illness took a turn for the worse. A week since they’d been scrambling to keep her alive. Despite their best efforts, (y/n) was slipping further from them each day.

The nearby village’s only doctor was useless, simply stating that it was like nothing he had ever seen, and that chances of recovery were most certainly slim to none.

Her condition deteriorated quickly. What started as extreme exhaustion had now left her bedridden, her body trembling fiercely and her skin becoming pale as wax.

Every breath seemed like a struggle, every movement too much for her body to bear. The fever raged, unrelenting, burning her from the inside. And as her strength faded, so did the light in their eyes.

Hyrule had become a shadow of himself. He hadn’t slept in days unless it was from passing out, his magic reserves draining back to empty the moment he woke up and crawled back to her.

Each time he used his healing magic, it took more out of him, the toll becoming increasingly visible. His skin was drawn, dark circles etched under his eyes, and his hands trembled as he worked tirelessly over her. His breathing was shallow, his body aching from the strain, but still, he refused to stop.

They all knew he was pushing himself too far, but no one could bring themselves to intervene. Not when the fear that they would lose her loomed over them all like a dark cloud.

Twilight, Wind, Four and Legend had taken on the task of gathering supplies, disappearing to the nearby town almost every day.

They were the fastest, the ones who could sneak in and out with ease. At first, they had relied on buying potions and medicine, but as time wore on, the merchant began to see their desperation, raising his prices to absurd levels.

It didn’t take long for the group to abandon any notion of paying fairly.

Twilight would distract the merchant with a pleasant smile, while Four split up to keep watch as Wind and Legend slipped behind the stalls, taking what they needed without hesitation. It wasn’t theft, not really. Not when the merchant had already tried to scam them.

It was necessary. They couldn’t afford to waste time arguing over prices when every second mattered.

But despite their efforts, the potions barely made a difference. At best, they gave (y/n) temporary relief, literal moments where her breathing eased and the pain receded, but it returned worse than before. The illness had taken a vicious hold, tightening its grip with every passing day.

Warriors and Time kept watch over Hyrule, though neither could hide their growing frustration.

They’d tried to reason with him, tried to force him to rest, if only so he had the strength to continue later, but Hyrule wouldn’t listen.

His stubbornness had reached a new height, fueled by the guilt eating away at him. He couldn’t give up. He wouldn’t.

“She’ll get better,” he insisted through chapped lips, his voice hoarse and trembling with exhaustion. “I just need... I need more time. Please, just... give me more time.”

But even as he said it, they could see the cracks forming. He was running on empty, his body barely holding up under the strain. And still, (y/n)’s condition worsened.

She couldn’t even open her eyes anymore, her body too weak to respond to their voices. She drifted in and out of consciousness, her fevered mind lost in a haze of pain.

When she was awake, she tried to smile at them, tried to offer some kind of comfort despite her suffering. But they could see the truth, she was fading. Her brightness was slipping away, and no matter how hard they fought, it felt like they were losing her.

At night, when they thought she was too far gone to notice, they let their masks drop completely.

Twilight paced restlessly by the fire, his fists clenched as he stared into the flames, guilt gnawing at him for not being able to protect her.

Wind and Four sat beside her, their usually carefree demeanor replaced with silent, tear-filled eyes as they held her hand and brushed her hair back, whispering to her with voices so soft it barely reached the others.

Warriors stood guard, his jaw set, his eyes red-rimmed from lack of sleep as he stared out into the night, waiting for the moment when everything would crumble.

And Time... Time sat at her side, his calloused hand holding hers, as if he could anchor her to the world with his presence alone. He was silent, his expression unreadable, but the tightness in his grip betrayed his fear.

Legend wasn’t any better. He sat farther away from the rest but still close to her, his arms crossed over his chest, but his eyes never left her. His hands were clenched into tight fists, his nails digging into his palms as he fought to keep his composure. He couldn’t lose her. None of them could.

But with each passing day, that fear became more real. More suffocating.

One evening, when the others had gone to town again, Hyrule collapsed beside her, his magic finally failing him.

He was unconscious before they could reach him, his body giving out from the constant use of his power. Warriors was the one to scoop him up and lay him beside her, his expression grim.

“We can’t keep this up,” he muttered, his voice tight with emotion. “We’re losing her and with the rate the Traveler is going, we’ll lose both of them.”

Twilight, who had been silent for hours, finally spoke. His voice was rough, filled with raw, unfiltered fear.

“Then we find another way. I won’t let her die.”

No one argued, but the despair was written on all their faces.

They had to find another way. But what? How long could they keep running to town, stealing potions, praying for a miracle that never seemed to come?

How long could they keep up the façade that everything would be okay when every moment felt like she was slipping further away from them?

——

The atmosphere around the camp had become oppressive, a heavy, choking tension that none of them could shake.

The sound of their own thoughts was deafening, and yet, no one dared to speak much. Not anymore. Not when every word felt like a countdown to the inevitable.

(y/n) was still hanging on, barely, her shallow breaths echoing through the campsite. But the fear that she could slip away at any moment had taken its toll on all of them.

Their once seamless movements now seemed jagged and unnatural.

Twilight’s steps, once so sure and steady, had grown erratic, his pacing more frantic as the days passed. He muttered under his breath, words lost to the wind as his gaze flitted between the dying fire and (y/n)’s prone form.

The others weren’t much better. Four’s usual sharp, observant eyes had grown wild, darting to every shadow as if waiting for something, anything, to happen. He often caught himself muttering to himself, strange fragmented thoughts that would normally never see the light of day.

Warriors sat apart from the rest, fingers twitching as though he wanted to reach for his sword at every sound. His jaw clenched and unclenched, a subtle but constant reminder of his fraying patience.

Legend, normally quick with his sarcasm or a biting comment, was eerily silent, his hands wringing the edge of his tunic over and over again. His eyes were dark, haunted, as if he were seeing something none of the others could.

Even Time, ever the rock of the group, had begun to slip. His movements were mechanical, too precise to be natural, his expression cold and distant.

But it was his eyes that gave him away, those sharp, calculating eyes now flickered with something wild, something desperate.

And then there was Hyrule.

Hyrule, who had been the most drained, the most exhausted, suddenly seemed to be... different.

He was still pale, his face hollowed from the constant exertion of his magic, but something about him had changed. He was oddly focused, his gaze distant but intensely sharp, as if picking up on something the others couldn’t see.

He sat by (y/n)’s side more often now, his eyes narrowing as he stared out into the distance, as though something was calling to him. The others noticed it too. the way he seemed unsettled, the way his fingers twitched as if itching to reach for something just out of his grasp. Sometimes, he would mutter to himself, low enough that only those closest could hear.

“This place... I swear there’s something familiar here,” he whispered one night, his voice barely above a breath. “Something I’ve seen before... felt before... but I don’t know why.”

The others exchanged glances, but were too focused on (y/n) to dwell on it.

Still, there was something about the way Hyrule had begun to withdraw, something in his eyes that made them uneasy.

He was debating something in his mind, that much was clear. But no one dared to ask.

Then, one night, (y/n)’s breathing had faltered. Just for a moment. Just long enough to send them all into a spiral of panic.

Hyrule had rushed to her side, using what little magic he had recovered to try and stabilize her. She’d slipped back into unconsciousness, her body colder than before.

The scare left them shaken to their core, but it was Hyrule who seemed the most affected.

That night, he hadn’t spoken. He’d sat silently by the fire, staring into the flames, his expression tight, his eyes distant. The others tried to talk to him, to see if he was alright, but he gave nothing away. No one pressed further.

The next morning, he was gone.

It was Twilight who noticed first, his eyes scanning the camp as he called out for Hyrule, his voice laced with frustration. But there was no answer. He wasn’t there. His bag, his supplies, everything was gone, as if he had vanished into thin air.

It didn’t take long for the others to realize what had happened, and soon the camp was filled with the sounds of heated whispers, their voices low but tense.

“Where the hell did he go?” Legend hissed, his hands shaking as he raked them through his hair. “He wouldn’t just leave, not without saying something.”

“He was acting weird,” Wind muttered, pacing again, his movements jerky. “He was muttering about something being familiar. Maybe he went to find it.”

“Find what?” Warriors snapped, his voice sharp. “We’re in the middle of nowhere, the village is useless cause it’s so small it doesn’t even have a doctor, and (y/n) could die any second. He knows that!”

“I don’t know!” Wild shot back, his voice strained. “But something’s not right. He’s been pushing himself too hard.”

“We all have,” Time said quietly, his voice calm, though his knuckles were white from how hard he was gripping his sword. “But abandoning us? Abandoning her? There’s no excuse.”

Twilight growled under his breath, his hands clenched into fists. “We need him. We can’t—"

“Maybe he found something,” Sky interrupted, his voice quieter but no less tense. “Something he didn’t want to say in front of us.”

“Or maybe he’s finally lost it,” Warriors muttered darkly. “We all know how much he’s been using his magic. It could’ve driven him over the edge.”

The argument continued, their voices rising and falling as they debated what to do. But underneath it all, the fact was clear.

Hyrule was gone by his own free will.

And if they couldn’t find him, or if he didn’t come back soon, (y/n) might be gone too.

——

Without Hyrule, (y/n)‘s moments of respite were non-existent.

The group fell deeper into despair. Every breath (y/n) took sounded weaker, raspier, her skin pale and cold to the touch. They tried to stay strong, but the strain showed.

Time and Warriors rarely spoke now, their grim expressions enough to convey the gravity of the situation.

Twilight remained as Wolfie, using his heightened senses in an attempt to monitor (y/m)’s withering condition.

Four kept snapping at anyone who hesitated too long to do something for her, and Legend, normally so composed, spent hours quietly sitting by (y/n)'s side, holding her hand as if sheer will alone could keep her with them.

One evening, as the group huddled in the camp’s dim light, Wild finally whispered what they all dreaded to hear.

"I can’t give her any more potions or elixirs," he murmured, his voice thick with frustration. "They aren’t working anymore."

His words hung in the air like a death sentence. No one wanted to acknowledge it, but they all knew. The potions weren’t helping. Nothing was helping. Yet even so, they whispered to her in the dark, their voices shaky and tearful.

"Just a little longer, okay?" Twilight would plead softly. "You’re strong. You can fight this."

Legend would gently press his forehead against (y/n)’s, his voice breaking. "Don’t leave us. Please. We need you."

But deep down, they all feared it was too late.

——

Hyrule returned.

He stumbled into the camp just as the group braced themselves for the possibility of that (y/n) wouldn’t survive that night.

His sudden appearance should have brought relief, but instead, it ignited anger. The others turned on him, their eyes wild with rage and fear.

"Where were you?" Legend hissed, storming up to him, grabbing him by the collar of his tunic, his voice shaking with rage and betrayal.

"How could you abandoned her!" Four cried out, fists balled up tightly.

"How could you leave?" Warriors snarled. "We needed you, SHE needed you!"

Hyrule, however, was too exhausted to flinch from their words. He stood before them, pale and bloodied, his eyes heavy with sleeplessness. But despite his worn appearance, his gaze was resolute.

"I didn’t want to leave," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "But… I’m glad I did."

Before anyone could respond viciously to that, Hyrule raised his hands, and with a pulse of his magic, rejuvenated and contrary to his physical condition, the air around them filled with soft, melodic chimes.

Time, Legend, and Warrior’s eyes widened, immediately recognizing the sound for what it was.

A moment later, the area around them lit up, as the sly was filled with a swarm of fairies, their wings shimmering like tiny stars as they descended upon (y/n), surrounding her with gentle light.

The fairies whispered soothing words, their voices like the rustle of leaves in a breeze, comforting both the group and (y/n), even though she remained unconscious.

The warmth of their magic radiated outward, the oppressive weight of the situation lifting as they began to work.

"It was a curse disguising itself as an illness," Hyrule explained, his voice faint from exhaustion. " and I could feel something off since we arrived here. Something... familiar. I didn’t understand it at first. But it clicked eventually.“

He looked up at the sky for a moment, “This place... it’s MY Hyrule, but so far into the future that I didn’t recognize it. But the pulse of magic... that, I knew."

He swayed slightly, catching himself before he fell. "I gambled. Left to investigate, and I was right. I found the Great Fairy Fountain in the same place it’s always been."

His lips curved into a small, weary smile. "To this land, it had been so long. But to her, I was only gone for a short while, despite the centuries that have passed between our time jumps. She agreed to help me... to help her." He glanced at (y/n), whose skin now glowed faintly beneath the soft light of the fairies. "Her daughters came with me, but the Great Mother has requested we bring (y/n) to the fountain so she can personally aid in her recovery."

The group stared in stunned silence, their emotions torn between anger, relief, and disbelief. The sight of the fairies working on (y/n), their gentle magic already combating the curse, was a miracle they had barely dared to hope for.

"I’m sorry," Hyrule said desperately as Legend’s hand let go of his tunic, his voice breaking from the tears he was holding back, barely above a whisper. "I did what I had to do... but I…I just couldn’t keep add it without searching for an actual solution. To actually make sure she pulls through."

As the fairies continued to work, a glimmer of hope returned to the now silent group.

——

Twilight and Warriors had barely exchanged words as they approached the merchant's stall. The merchant, initially wary but hopeful for a profitable exchange, quickly realized his mistake when Twilight’s eyes narrowed and Warriors' grip tightened on the hilt of his sword.

"We’re borrowing your cart," Warriors had stated coldly, his voice leaving no room for negotiation. Twilight’s hand hovered threateningly near his own blade, the intent clear. There would be no payment, no bargaining. They would be taking the cart, and the merchant wouldn’t stop them.

The merchant, pale and trembling, simply nodded, backing away as the two heroes secured the cart to Epona, ignoring the man's feeble protests.

When they returned to the camp, Twilight, with Hyrule’s careful guidance, gently placed (y/n) inside the cart. Her fragile body was carefully cushioned by blankets, and even then, she barely stirred.

The fairies flitted around her constantly, their magic a steady hum as they continued to combat the curse.

With everyone in place, Epona began to pull them toward the Great Fairy’s fountain.

Twilight, walking beside his loyal steed, murmured soothing words to the horse as they made their way through the winding paths, Hyrule sitting in the cart with (y/n), his focus entirely on her, the weight of his exhaustion finally showing but his resolve never faltering.

At the Great Fairy’s fountain, the air shimmered with an otherworldly light. As they arrived, the Great Fairy emerged from the glimmering waters, her presence overwhelming yet comforting.

Without a word, she extended her arms toward (y/n), and with a soft pulse of magic, (y/n)’s body floated from the cart, suspended in a gentle glow. She was carefully placed in the pool of water and magic, her limp form cradled by the shimmering light as the curse continued to be fought off.

Days passed. The Chain set up camp near the fountain, watching anxiously as the fairies and the Great Fairy worked tirelessly to heal (y/n).

Slowly, ever so slowly, the signs of improvement became visible. Her once pale complexion began to warm, her breathing grew steadier, and the oppressive weight of the curse lessened.

But exhaustion took its toll on the group. One by one, the others succumbed to sleep, their bodies and minds drained from days of fear and desperation.

Only Hyrule remained awake, too restless, too vigilant to allow himself the luxury of sleep. He sat near the water’s edge, watching over (y/n) as she floated peacefully in the glowing pool.

Then, in the stillness of the night, (y/n) stirred.

Hyrule’s eyes widened as he saw her eyelids flutter weakly.

For a brief, fleeting moment, her eyes opened, just a sliver, as if she was struggling to take in her surroundings. Hyrule’s breath caught in his throat as he knelt closer, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Shhhhh…” He gently hushed, as if trying to calm whatever unease she may currently feel, his voice barely audible, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the moment. "You’re safe now. Everything is going to be alright."

Her eyes, though heavy with fatigue, seemed to register his words. A faint glimmer of recognition passed through them before they fluttered shut again, her body relaxing as though she had accepted his promise.

Hyrule let out a shaky breath, a wave of relief washing over him. She was still with them. She was fighting, and now, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, it seemed like she might win.

——

The Great Fairy watched (y/n) in her pool of magic and water, her ethereal face softening with a sense of quiet awe. "I must say, her will is extraordinary," she murmured, her voice like the chime of delicate bells. "The curse was designed to break the will of its victim, to erode their strength of spirit until nothing remained. But this one... she fought it. Every moment. Impressive."

Hyrule, still weary and bloodied from his desperate journey, glanced down at (y/n) with a tender smile. "That’s just who she is," he replied quietly. "She’s always surprising us. Always pushing through the impossible." His voice softened, a note of fondness threading through it. "It’s one of the things I love about her."

The Great Fairy tilted her head, her knowing eyes gleaming with amusement, but she said nothing, turning instead to watch her daughters as they continued to flutter around (y/n), their magic mingling with her own. Though the power they offered was unnecessary now, their presence was comforting, both to (y/n) and the Chain. The fairies worked with gentle grace, their whispered words soft like a lullaby.

Hyrule glanced at the others, still slumbering deeply by the fountain, drained from days of anxiety and fear. He didn’t tell them about (y/n)’s brief moment of consciousness earlier. He knew it would only upset them that they hadn’t been there to witness it, to share in the small flicker of hope.

And so, he kept it to himself, watching over her as she grew stronger with each passing day. The curse slowly unraveled, her body regaining warmth and color, her breathing steadying until, one day, her eyes opened again.

It was brief, just a few minutes, but enough to soothe the raw edges of their hearts. She was weak, her voice barely above a whisper, but the warmth in her eyes as she looked at each of them melted the tension that had kept them on edge.

"I'm okay," she whispered, her words fragile but filled with reassurance. "I’m alright now." Her hand trembled as she reached out, and Wild was the first to take it, tears threatening to spill over as he squeezed her hand tightly.

"We were so scared..." Warriors muttered, voice rough with emotion as he knelt beside her, his mask of stoic composure cracked. "You had us worried, Dear Heart."

She offered them a faint, tired smile. "I’m sorry... but it’s alright now, right? You’re all safe. I’m safe."

They all gathered around her, voices gentle but urgent as they reassured her it was alright now, that she was safe, and they would never let something like this happen again.

As days passed, her strength gradually returned, and the nights became less suffocating as she was slowly tugged away from death’s door.

One evening, while the others slept, (y/n) remained awake, her body finally strong enough to allow her more moments of clarity. Hyrule was keeping watch, sitting quietly by the edge of the campfire, when her soft voice broke the stillness.

"Hyrule..." she murmured, her eyes half-lidded but focused on him.

He quickly moved to her side, concern flashing across his face. "What is it? Are you alright?"

She smiled, small but genuine, and it reached her eyes, softening the tired lines etched into her face. "I just... I wanted to thank you. Even when I didn’t know where I was, when it felt like everything was trying to pull me away, I always had this sense of…you. Of you right by my side."

….what..?

Hyrule’s breath caught in his throat, his heart clenching at her words.

She…had felt him?

“I didn’t know how I knew it was you. But I knew. You have no idea how much that helped.”

She had known he had been there? That he had fought the curse every step of the way?

She chuckled weakly, though it was more of a breathy laugh than anything, but there was joy in it. "Now I know how Twilight felt when he was bedridden. It’s not fun being the one to almost die."

Hyrule couldn’t help but smile back, a quiet chuckle escaping him despite the weight of the past days. He gently took her hand, holding it between his own as he replied, "You were never alone. Not for a second. Never."

She squeezed his hand, her strength fragile but there.

As (y/n)’s eyes grew heavier, she gave Hyrule a weak but sincere smile. “Thank you... for never giving up on me...” she whispered, her voice barely audible, each word a fragile breath. “Not once…”

Hyrule’s heart clenched as the words hit him, the gratitude and warmth in her tone making his chest tighten painfully. He opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. The emotion swelling within him was too strong, and he could only manage a soft, shaky breath.

“Rest,” he whispered instead, his voice tender, barely holding back his tears. “I’ll watch over you. You’re safe now.”

Her eyes fluttered closed, her stamina finally spent, and her breathing evened out into the quiet rhythm of sleep. Hyrule stayed there, staring at her for a long moment, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. He blinked rapidly, willing the tears not to fall.

After a few moments, he slowly lifted his head, his gaze shifting to the Great Fairy who had been watching the exchange with a gentle, knowing smile. Her eyes glimmered with warmth, and the soft chime of her magic hummed in the air, as comforting as a lullaby.

“She... she thanked me,” Hyrule whispered, his voice breaking slightly as he sniffled. “I... I did a good job. I helped...”

His voice was fragile, raw with relief and exhaustion, and as he spoke, he let the weight of everything he had been holding in finally settle. He had helped. He had made a difference.

The Great Fairy’s soft, melodic chime filled the air, and with it, a pulse of magic swept gently over him, a warm wave of love and affection that radiated through his entire being.

The sensation was so soothing, so full of comfort, that even the other sleeping heroes unconsciously relaxed, their bodies softening in their sleep as if the magic had touched them too.

Hyrule sniffled again, wiping at his eyes as he gave the Great Fairy a grateful, tearful smile. He had helped. He had done his part to save her, and now, she was going to be alright.

Everything was going to be okay.

#finally finished this Wip!#linked universe #lu #yandere linked universe #linkeduniverse #yandere lu #lu time #lu hyrule #lu warriors #lu twilight #lu four #lu wind #lu wild #lu legend #lu sky #great fairy

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stardustbarbarians · 9 months

Text

I'm Using You*

*You're Using Me

A Jake Kiszka / fem!reader fic

Summary: Jake interrupted your night of relaxation for some fun.

Tags: this is literally just smut. like fr no other notes. so that being said, MDNI DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT

Words: 1.4 k

A/N: yeah I got drunk one night and found a new song and thought "hey that'd be fun". So here we are. This, like, just barely passes a blurb, so hurray new Jake fic. Title taken from Sin So Sweet by Warren Zeiders. Enjoy! <3

+++

You and Jake had a… well. Let’s just call it an “unconventional” relationship.

During the light of day and in polite company, you two hardly ever looked in one another’s direction. It was rare that you two would speak when the sun was above the horizon.

But when the stars began dotting the skyline and darkness covered the world like a blanket… well, let’s say that it was rare you two weren’t touching.

“Say my name,” he growled directly into your ear, his fingers plunging deep within you as his other hand dug bruises into your neck with his tight grip.

Your bare back was pressed into his chest, his arm snaked between the valley of your breasts as he held you in place.

You were gasping for breath, grasping at any part of him you could reach. Your claw-like nails left mulberry indentations in the shapes of waning crescents on his skin as you attempted to get a grip on the pleasure flooding your veins with each drive of his fingers.

“Jake,” you breathed, unable to conjure up the mental capability for actual vocalization.

He let out a deep chuckle that you felt in your own chest. The vibrations added to the scratch of his callouses scraping against the walls of your pussy made you shiver. But it was nothing to the bodily reaction you had to his next action.

“Good girl,” he praised, breathing directly into your ear.

Spreading your legs even farther apart to give him better access, you nearly spilled your cum against his thigh you were sitting on. You could feel your entire being shiver with the words, a choked noise struggling to leave your lips.

“And since you’re being such a good girl, do you know what you get?”

At this point, Jake took it upon himself to press his thumb onto your clit that was swollen from where he had sucked and lapped at it relentlessly earlier. Only thing about that was you weren’t allowed to cum from his tongue. No, you had to hold onto every fucking shred of your self-control to not explode all over his face. He had growled in your ear that he wanted to prove just how easy it was to make you cum by just using his fingers. He was in a mood when he barged into your apartment that night, a darkness in his eyes as soon as you looked into them.

You hadn’t even gotten the chance to finish your greeting to him before he was grabbing you by the hair and smashing his lips into yours. It got heated immediately, just like all of your interactions. He was so mad that he had managed to rip your sleep shirt to shreds as he attempted to take it off. You would’ve been upset if it wasn’t so hot.

He had then proceeded to hoist you up so that you had to wrap your legs around him, walking you over to your couch where you had been watching true crime documentaries before he knocked on your door. He had all but thrown you down onto it, climbing atop you and shoving his tongue into your mouth. Instantly his hands began roaming, his guitar calluses dotting his fingertips scratching against the soft and sensitive skin of your breasts. Your breathing had begun to come in bursts, each exhale laced with a small mewl of pleasure. He knew that you liked it when he just took what he wanted from you, so made sure to do exactly that.

Jake circled the pad of his thumb quickly over your nipple, causing shockwave after shockwave to travel through your body. The entire time, he had been nipping at the skin of your neck, knowing that when you woke up tomorrow you’d have purple blemishes all over the skin there; his signature and claim on you.

“What do good girls get?” you managed to whine out. Underneath it all, you were impressed that you were able to form a coherent response.

“They get to cum,” he whispered against the shell of your ear, pressing his teeth against it after he finished speaking.

That was all you needed. You had been teasing the line of release for so long now, you feared you were seconds away from imploding. At the words, you had cum all over his thigh, your body shaking as your hips rocked back and forth against his fingers in order to milk your pleasure for all it was worth. You let out the most pathetic noise to ever grace your ears, knowing that your face probably matched your tone.

It had amused Jake endlessly, that laugh of his ricocheting through your body and only adding to the pleasure.

It was seconds later that you fell limp against his chest, spent completely after how hard you had just cum. Jake used the opportunity to turn your head towards his, immediately locking lips with him. They were rough, the chapped skin scraping against your soft lips. But you had no complaints. It was part of the experience of Jake.

“Was that good, pretty girl?” His voice was just barely above a rasp, his eyes dark with desire.

You simply nodded your head, a blissed out smile on your lips. You felt like you were melting from it all, feeling like chocolate that had been left out in the sun for too long.

“Good.” He repositioned you with your back laying down on the couch, caging you in with his arms. “‘Cause we’re only just getting started.”

That was the only warning you had gotten before he began unzipping his jeans and pulling his cock out from his boxer-briefs. You couldn’t help feeling like the prey to his predatory look, looming over you as he stroked his cock.

You had gripped his shoulders as he lined himself up, your nails burrowing into his flesh as he plunged into you. You were already so slick from his spit, your slick, and release that he all but slipped in to the hilt with no resistance.

You cried out at the sensation, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he slipped inside of you. Even though you two had done this all before, it never failed to take your breath away how wholly he fit inside of you. Your hole and walls began fluttering around him as he paused in order to allow you to adjust to his size, staring down at you intensely with this smirk that made your heart jump.

Once you felt comfortable enough for him, you nodded your head and whispered out an “ok”.

“Buckle up, angel,” he purred with a smirk pulling at the corner of his lip before setting a pace that made you see stars.

Each drive into you milked moans out of your throat, each one louder and more emphatic than the last. If your eyes had been opened, you would’ve been able to see Jake’s cocky grin as he relished in your pleasure.

Eventually, it got to the point where even Jake was making small noises with every thrust. You had done this enough times with him that you knew what this meant.

“Come on, baby, take what’s yours,” you egged on, knowing that it would push Jake further towards the edge.

And just like you predicted, Jake was hurtling towards release. With one well timed squeeze of your walls around him, Jake began sputtering for air and pulling out of you quickly before spurting his cum all over your chest and stomach.

He loomed over you as he took a moment to catch his breath, stuffing himself back into his pants before zipping up and leaving for the bathroom. You watched him disappear down the hallway, burying your head into the pillow behind your head and waiting for your heart rate to slow down.

It was a moment later that you snapped your eyes open after feeling something cold and wet hit your chest. You yelped in surprise, seeing Jake chuckling twistedly at your reaction.

“Real mature, Jake,” you bit, taking the washcloth he had thrown at you and wiping yourself off. You shot him a dirty look as he continued to laugh.

“You seem to think I’m mature enough to let me fuck you nearly every night,” he shot back.

Rolling your eyes, you got up to your feet and threw the washcloth at him.

“Don’t be seen leaving my place!”

“You think I want people to know I came here??”

“Just get out!” you yelled, half a mind to watch him to make sure he left. You didn’t have to. You were reassured of his departure by the slamming of your front door.

“Prick,” you muttered under your breath, setting off to shower and resume your night of watching true crime documentaries before you had been so rudely interrupted.

+++

Tag List:

@doodle417 @sammykiszkasunusedshoes @jmks-housewife @ageoferin @alwayssotiredbutneverofyou @honor-gvf @etoilesnoor @ascendingtostardust @godlygreta @s0livagant @gretavanflowerpower @morganic-goods @dannythedog @baguettejuliette @fan-girl-97 @gaby-gvf @age-of-nyahh @mzbrightside @myownparadise96 @brokenbellsgvf @xserenax-13 @sammysvanfeet @strugglingtodoshit @loofypoofy @chalametpwk @seventieswhore @razorbladekiszka @capturethechaos @unfortunatelykristin @welightthefire @gretavanfleas @sammiejane22 @satanplayshisfluteforhim @thetroublegetssoloud71 @starsasone @mintysammykiszka @writingcold @tearsofbri @teddiie @GardensGateDaisy @sparrowofthedawnsworld @angelbabyyy99 @whollyfreeamongststars @gretaswhore28 @l0rdoffli3s @kay-jordan @lightmyloverry @kenzie18 @gotavansleep @roosterbbradley @freckled-wonder @flower-power-anthem @Gabyvanfleet @Sarakay-gvf @Mamalikes-gvf @josh-iamyour-mama @st4rdust-ch0rds @pr41sethemoon @fallonfatality @earthlysorrows @jessicafg03 @rossy1080 @hippievanfleet @spark-my-nature @hayley1623 @schleeble @gretavanflipflop @jakeydoesit @candycigsonacolortv

#greta van fleet #greta van fic #jake kiszka #jacob thomas kiszka #jake gvf #smut smut smut #jake kiszka x reader

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rosyjn · 1 year

Text

"are you sure you want this? if i start, i might not be able to stop..." jake sully x reader SMUT

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Jake kisses down your neck, while you hold his hair and lean back into the grass. You look up into the sky, watching Pandora's moon and the stars surrounding it.

"Mmm, hold on-" he pulls away from your neck and traces over the hickeys he left. You smile and take your hands off of his head, your pupils dilating. "I'm gonna grab something, angel," he gets up off of you and walks towards his tent. You fondle with your top as he shuffles around in there.

When he comes back out, he has a couple weaved pillows and a blanket. You laugh. You take off your crocheted top as he walks towards you, leaving it nearby. Jake gets on the ground and props your head up on a pillow.

"You shouldn't have," your palm comes to your face and you giggle while he sets your head gently on them. He reaches over and kisses your breast, you exhale.

"My pretty girl, didn't want you to hurt your neck," he climbs on top of you and holds your boobs.

"Säpom oe," you tell him. He smiles.

"Where?" he asks. You exaggerate on purpose, puckering your lips and closing your eyes. He leans forward and kisses your lips, plopping his weight down onto you. You kiss back and hold his shoulders.

"Jake, you know what we should do now?" you pull away from the kiss and push his head away, so you can look in his eyes easier. He smirks and sits back.

"Are you sure? If I start, I might not be able to stop..." he plays with the strings of your loincloth and tilts his head.

"I wouldn't want you to," your hands meet his fingers at your loincloth and you push it off of yourself before he can. His face lights up and he spreads your legs with his hands.

"Goddamn," he leans into your pussy and traces your slit with his finger, admiring your arousal.

"Ma Jakeeee..." you whine.

"Hold on," he unties his own loincloth and rubs his erection.

"Za'u," you put your arms out.

"Coming," he chuckles.

He positions himself in between your legs and kisses your cheek.

"Ready?' he asks.

"Yes, Jake," you roll your eyes.

"Don't get annoyed, or else you're not getting any," he pulls away from your cheek and looks into your eyes.

"No, I'm not annoyed, honey. I'm excited. Just get in here and fuck me," you wrap your legs around his hips.

"You're so eager, hmm? You want it so bad?" he teases.

"Please, rutxe," you beg.

"Okay, you're being good." he kisses your forehead and slowly ruts into you.

Your back arches. You whine. He stretches you out so perfectly. Just the right amount of pain at first, and then overwhelming pleasure. You throw your head back onto the pillows Jake had put for you.

"See why I brought those, huh?" he grunts and smirks. You whimper with every thrust. "Good girl," he kisses you on the mouth, you don't kiss back.

"Mmm-' your moans are muffled by his lips on yours. Your folded ears perk up at the sound of your pussy squelching.

"Kiss me back," he slows down his thrusts. You're so fucked dumb.

You breathe heavily and move your lips with his, grabbing his shoulders. You mewl and your body flutters under him.

"Good. Mmm, you're close, aren't you?" he whispers against your mouth. You squirm.

You can't do anything but whimper in response, your cunt clenching and your grip on his shoulders getting tighter. He groans.

Jake's rutting gets more erratic and desperate. He chases his orgasm and grunts like an animal.

"Oh god, you're so tight, feels so good," he whimpers and tucks his face into your neck.

He moans and grabs your hips as he spills his load into you, your pussy contracting and throbbing around him. Your eyes clench shut and your toes curl as you finish. Jake peppers breathless kisses all over your neck and face when he pulls out.

He falls to your side and you curl up in his arms. His hand tickles your back, down to your ass, where he rubs gently. His other hand is intertwined with yours. The two of you lay like that, panting in each others embrace, until you fall asleep.

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24hlevi · 7 months

Note

hihi! can i request smut prompt 4 from list 1 with bleach’s ichigo? transfem reader if possible

oh my gosh yes! ichigo my beloved. thank you for requesting! 🫶

— STAR SHOPPING

kurosaki ichigo (bleach) x transfem!reader

summary: prompt 4 ("no panties?") from my 2.5k event

warnings: language, nsfw, soft dom!ichigo, praise, unprotected sex, creampie

minors do not interact

if there was one thing about kurosaki ichigo, it was that when he loved, he loved hard. that was with you, as well. from the moment he first laid eyes on you, he knew he had to have you. he was determined.

which leads to where you two are right now.

ichigo hovered above you on his bed, one of his arms holding him up while the other trailed up and down your body. "you're so pretty," he mumbled into your lips as he kissed you. he pulled away from the kiss to look down at you, smirking a little bit at the marks scattered on your neck and chest. his hand moved down under your skirt, and a sly smile formed on his face at what he felt, or rather, what he didn't feel. "no panties? i was unaware you were capable of doing that." he teased lightly.

your face heated up at his words but you nodded your head. "just for you," you replied.

"just for me," he repeated to himself. he quickly pulled your skirt off your legs and stripped himself of his clothes, going back to his previous position. he saw the way your tip was leaking with precum and he cooed at the sight, his thumb dragging over the head of your cock. "you seem so desperate for me, are you?" he asked.

"yes," you nodded quickly, your hips bucking up as he touched you. "ichigo please."

"whatever you want, princess," he kissed your forehead softly before slowly pushing his length into you. he groaned quietly at the tightness, completely bottoming out before stilling to let you adjust. his hands gripped your hips, nails digging into your skin as he looked down at you for permission to move.

"you can move," you told him, your arms wrapping around to his back.

as soon as you said so he pulled out a little and thrusted back into you, his face in your neck as he groaned into the skin. he slowly built up a pace, mumbling curses and praises.

"fuck, baby- you feel so fuckin' good- fuck-" ichigo cursed, speeding up his movements.

whines and moans were spilling from your mouth, your nails scratching down ichigo's back as your cock only leaked more on your stomach and his. "ichi-ichigo! ohmygod," your eyes rolled back when he hit a certain spot inside of you.

"that's it, baby. just like that," he said, his hand reaching down to start pumping your cock as he continued his thrusts. "you're gonna make me cum, babe- shit! doing so good for me. just for me, right?"

"ye-yes!" you moaned out. "jus-just for you, no one else." you whimpered.

"such a good girl for me," his voice got scratchy as he spoke. "my good girl who lets me use her whenever i want. such a good girl," he whispered, his thrusts reaching deeper and deeper inside of you.

"fuck, ichigo!" you whined, feeling the familiar knot in the bottom of your stomach. "i'm gonna cum!"

"cum for me, princess." ichigo said, jerking off your cock faster. "make a mess for me, baby. cum all over me." he told you.

almost immediately after his words your back arched as you let out a borderline pornagraphic scream and spurts of your cum landed on your stomach and ichigo. you whimpered at the sensitivity as he kept thrusting inside of you, going faster trying to chase his high.

"let me cum inside you, please," he practically begged. "please, baby." his thrusts were becoming sporadic as he let out little groans and grunts.

"do it," you immediately replied. "cum in me, please."

after a few more quick thrusts, ichigo pushed in again and came, filling you up and letting out a moan as he pulled out and watched his cum leak out of you. "you did so good for me, princess." he whispered, pushing some of your hair out of your face. "let me go get a towel and i'll clean you up, okay?"

"okay," you nodded your head.

ichigo left to the bathroom and quickly returned with a small towel, wiping you down with it and cleaning you up before laying down next to you. "you should wear no panties more often," he said.

"you wish."

#bleach x you #bleach x reader #bleach imagines #bleach smut #bleach scenarios #ichigo kurosaki #ichigo kurosaki x reader #ichigo x reader #ichigo scenarios #ichigo imagines #ichigo smut #request #2500 follower event

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mrskreideprinz · 2 months

Text

| something worse than death |

albedo x reader | minors do not interact

warnings: fluff, established relationship, gender neutral reader, no pronouns for reader, he/him for albedo, very selfship coded, soulmate au (nothing explicitly said but still), i wrote this in drafts and just let my feelings for bedo spill out, super sappy and romantic (sorry), some light nsft stuff, humping and grinding, reader and albedo are kissing for most of this, reader has hair, reader is carried/swept off their feet, idk how many words this is i’m sorry.

a/n: this is a very, oddly personal fic to me and i tried letting go and just writing what i feel so here goes. this is kind of an early bday present to myself (my bday is tomorrow hehe) mutuals do not perceive me

tags: @auphelia @fleur-de-leap @suyacho @themovingcastlez @savvydabbydoo

his face nuzzled against yours, mouth falling open to let out a shaky breath. your hand reached for his, giving it a small squeeze as you sealed the deal with a kiss. your eyes flutter open only for a second and upon seeing his brows furrowed you feel something warm blossom across your chest.

everything feels blissful and a little too good to be true. when you pull away from albedo he let’s out an almost inaudible whine, and you thank the archons you were able to hear it. his eyes slowly open, expression unchanged until those turquoise gems of his land on your face, and then he smiles fondly.

he brushes away some strands of hair that fell in front of your face. “mmm, I’ve missed you.” he purrs against your lips.

you kiss him, again. “and i missed you.” and again. “my sweet, sweet, albedo.”

he hums as his eyes slowly close, now gingerly holding your face with both hands.

albedo wonders for a second if this was why he was created, to hold and love you, and then he’s sure of it. there is no doubt in his mind that’s why he was made.

when he leans in for another kiss it is no longer soft, but instead fervent. even so, his palms hold you gently, not a hint of aggression underneath his fingertips. no, what is hidden there instead are molecules and atoms that he will one day weave into stars that he’ll spread across the night sky.

every sparkling gift he shares will have been whispered many stories of his adoration for you. how he wooed you and whisked you away. so, that your love may live on even when the both of you have surely left this world. albedo promises to keep you safe from harm, even if that harm one day includes himself.

your fingers tip toe their way up his neck until they find purchase in his golden strands of hair, tugging him with yearning as your heart aches for more of him. you whisper something in his ear and he giggles in response. in one swift motion he sweeps you off your feet and carries you to the bed, pining you down with an adoring smile on his face.

albedo strokes his knuckle lightly along the side of your face, tilting his head to the side as he lets out a quiet sigh. he thinks to himself whether you’d always looked this beautiful—your hair spilling around your face while your body is cushioned on the bed—and then he smiles, chuckling to himself. of course you had. when hadn’t you? he couldn’t recall a time, not that it would matter either way. he’d love you, promise himself to you, wed you, and stay with you no matter the circumstances.

and that’s when he says those two words. “you’re beautiful.” and you believe him, because why would he ever give you a reason to distrust him?

he strokes your cheek with the pad of his thumb. “so beautiful..” he whispers, as if he himself is in disbelief of your beauty.

your eyes flutter as does your heart which beats fast within your chest. “oh, albedo..”

and like your bodies are in tune with one another, you lean for another kiss just as he does with you. his arms wrap around you, holding you close as if he fears he’d have to release you once again. he lays on his side and you do the same, whimpering in between breathless kisses. his hand finds its spot underneath your jaw just before he lays on his back and pulls you on top of him. he’s warm, incredibly so.

you can’t help but gasp as you feel his hands grab at you desperately. albedo fears for a moment that everything would soon come crashing down, that the eventual fall of his rising was to come next, but you’re quick to shush him and kiss away the tears he hadn’t realized had fallen.

he’s sure that no matter what happens after that he would end up in hell. that’s the only explanation he can come up with for how lucky he is to have fallen into your arms. everything good comes with a price, after all, and you surpass every great discovery he’s come to find.

it isn’t until he feels you grind against his lower region that he’s brought back to you. albedo holds your body in place by wrapping his arms around your waist as his hips thrust up to meet yours.

“fuck, you feel so.. mmm keep going, my love.” this is all albedo can whimper to keep from going mad.

and without a second thought you do as he asks of you. without questioning him you rub yourself against his bulge until he’s crying as he cums in his pants. he kisses you as he grinds against you, gasping each time you kiss him with am open mouth.

even after the two of you had long since stopped feeling up each other, you still cling to him. it’s weird, you think to yourself. odd how you know very little about this world but you can pinpoint the exact way to make him laugh. you know what makes him tick, what makes him truly ache with pain, but most of all you know him for who he truly is. when he cries of how ‘monstrous’ he is, you wrap him up in a warm blanket and hold him in your arms as you reassure him that he’s as human as anyone or anything could be.

and for a second, just one minuscule moment, he believes you. for a brief moment your voice calms him in ways no other could, and you heal the cold voice that speaks to him from his memories. yes, albedo thinks, this is what it means to be human. even if only for that small moment, he is human, he is real.

#albedo x reader #albedo x you #albedo x y/n #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x y/n

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thanotaphobia · 10 months

Text

diplomatic affairs

It's Missa's first time at a Federation-hosted Summit. His goals are pretty simple, all things considered: 1. Don't spill any state secrets. 2. Be of service to his kingdom. 3. Don't die.

And apparently, a secret fourth thing: Don't fall in love. It's not as simple as it looks.

introducing my first multichapter qsmp fic letsfuckinggooooo

crossposted to ao3

⋆

Despite all appearances, Missa doesn’t actually like crowds. He finds them hard to get by in, whirling languages and words spiraling around his head and not so much confusing him as they do overwhelm.

Add alcohol into the mix, and some people would consider him a downright introvert. He doesn’t drink often, but at a party like this, with people in shimmering dress and glittering jewels, he thinks that not having a champagne flute in your hand is something like social suicide. Across the room, Missa watches a woman in a soft, blue velvet gown effortlessly hand off an empty glass to a servant and take another off their tray, sliding herself back into conversation with a graceful smile and a tactful touch of her gloved hand to a chunky necklace weighing down her neck. He wishes he could be like that, like the men in uniform talking at the front of the room, the tittering groups of confident people around him.

But he’s not, so he sips the same glass of champagne he’s had for the past hour carefully and finds an open set of balcony doors. The golden light of the ballroom casts long strips of honey onto the stone floors and out across the railings, disappearing into the cool night air of the gardens below. Missa escapes into the space, where the noise is dampened some and the warm stuffy air is replaced by a cool breeze.

He leans against the rail, staring out. Above him, stars glitter. Below, the whisper of palace gardens and beyond that, the shimmering lights of a city spread out on the hillside. Another reason he feels so awkward: this is not his home. His home is a two week carriage ride away, and he feels the distance acutely.

In his grasp, his flute swirls left and then right, almost lazily. He watches the liquid inside it slosh around, and lets out a soft huff of air. It’s not even bubbly anymore– long gone flat. Missa lifts it to his lips.

“Excuse me,” someone says behind him. Missa jumps– the rim of his glass bumps against his teeth and he just barely manages to bite back a cry of pain. Instead, he just makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat and raises one hand to cover his mouth. When he turns, a blond man is standing, haloed by golden light coming from the ballroom. He’s looking at Missa with two blue eyes, wide with alarm. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay,” Missa says. He means it– the pain is already receding, and he tongues over his teeth to make sure he doesn’t taste blood. When he doesn’t, he lowers his hand from his mouth carefully. “Ah– it’s okay! I’m okay.”

“You sure, mate?” the man asks, stepping forward. “Can I get you something?”

“I’m fine,” Missa says, dipping his head quickly. “You just– startled me.”

“Not the intention, I promise,” the man says, holding two hands up and laughing a little. “I was just going to ask if you wouldn’t mind some company.”

“No,” Missa says. He’s better at one on one interactions, but an itch of anxiety creeps up inside him anyway. “No, that’s okay. I don’t mind.”

“Cool,” the man says. He steps up to the railing beside Missa, and he gets a closer look at the man’s face– slightly lined, blond hair tied back into a small ponytail at the base of his skull. He looks worn, but not defeated. A red flower is pinned to the lapel of his suit jacket. Missa glances down at his own, and the blue flower on his own. “So how have you been enjoying it?” the man asks abruptly, once again startling Missa out of his own mind.

“Enjoying…?” Missa trails off, a little confused.

The man looks over at him, raises a brow. “The talks?”

Right. Right. The whole reason Missa’s here. He wants to press his palm to his forehead and cool the rushing blood that comes to his face, but he tries to compose himself and succeeds by looking out over the city below them again.

“The talks,” he manages to squeak out. “They’ve been good, I think.”

“I saw you in a few of the sessions this morning,” the man says. Missa looks over at him, more serious now; he studies the man’s face again, and realizes quietly that he also has seen him around. “Missa, right?”

“Yeah,” Missa says. His name has no title– it was a clause of neutrality that all titles should be dropped when in the house of discussion. He searches his memory for the man’s name and struggles to put a name to him. “And you’re…”

“Phil,” he says, holding out one hand. “We haven’t formally met.”

Oh, now he knows this man.

Missa shakes the hand of the Angel of Death and is very, very brave about it. A decorated soldier, although the shiny buttons that would insinuate his status have been left at the door. He’s heard lots about this man, Philza Minecraft– Phil, apparently– and most of it has been incredibly bloody. But the man himself stands a slight inch shorter than Missa himself and while he holds himself with confidence and decorum, he… isn’t very scary. Might be the contrast of his red flower to his blue eyes, Missa thinks. The red doesn’t suit his face.

“It’s good to meet you,” he says.

“First time at a Summit?” Phil asks. Missa balks, but only for a moment.

“How’d you know?”

“You look nervous. Everyone looks nervous, their first time. It’s alright, it’s just the first introductions this morning, the opening gala now, and then everyone buckles down tomorrow afternoon for the real shit.”

“How many have you been to?”

“Oh, a few.” At that, Phil grins at him, half his face caught in the light. “So what do you think of it all so far?”

Missa mulls over the meetings he’s attended in his head. He glances back at the ballroom, eyes the waiters gliding around on silent feet with faces covered by white gauze, then says, “I think there are a lot of strong people on all sides.”

“Huh. I can see why you’re here.”

“It’s true,” Missa argues. “Each of us seem to have our problem starters and our problem solvers. I like to think we can come to a good conclusion, but at the same time, I don’t know.”

“Too early to tell?”

“I am hopeful for peace.”

“Same,” Phil says. “But like I said, I’ve been to a few of these and nothing’s happened yet in the past fifteen years, so.”

Missa has to concede his point. It might be his first time attending one of the Summits held by the Federation of Unity, but they’ve been happening for years now. And despite the constant talks of peace and love and no more war– it’s continued on anyway. By now, the Summits are basically just glorified parties for the elite, where they can shed their royal cloaks and crowns for a fortnight and pretend like they all like each other. Missa has heard some wild tales of what happens at these things, but so far it’s been pretty tame. He feels almost paranoid to step out of place, especially under the watchful, faceless gazes of the waiters.

“Don’t sound so excited,” Missa says dryly, despite it. Phil laughs, bending over slightly as he leans against the rail, and smiles out into the dark.

“It’s fine,” he says, dragging the word out. “We’ll have some fun, spread some rumors. Charlie Slimecicle and Mariana will fuck, probably.”

Missa chokes, nearly drops his glass. “What?”

Phil laughs again, turning around and squinting. Then, after a second, he raises one hand and gestures towards the ballroom. Missa turns around and looks where he’s pointing, rising up onto his tiptoes to see through the crowd.

“Charlie’s with me,” Phil says, and Missa spots Mariana after a second, then another man next to him with brown hair and glasses, a red flower on his jacket. “He and Mariana have consistently uhhh, well. They’ve been… together, yeah let’s go with that. They’ve been together for the last like three Summits and had screaming fights every time.”

This is news to Missa. “I know Mariana,” he says, watching enraptured as Slimecicle leans in and whispers in Mariana’s ear. “He never said–”

“Nobody really talks about it when we’re not here,” Phil says. “What happens at a Summit stays at a Summit.”

“Seems dumb,” Missa says, shaking his head. “Aren’t we supposed to– to cooperate?”

“One would think,” Phil says. He looks over at Missa, eyes flicking down. “Hey, are you going to finish that?”

Missa looks down at his half-empty, flat champagne. “Oh. No. Do you–”

“Sure.” Phil takes it from him and downs it with ease. Missa watches, the light striking against his Adam’s apple as it bobs, then Phil lowers the glass from his mouth and lets out a breath through his teeth. “Alright. Let’s get you another one.”

“I don’t drink,” Missa says quickly.

“It’s a party, mate,” Phil says, “Of course you drink,” and Missa doesn’t argue further as he’s herded inside like a cat. He thinks going against Phil wouldn’t be the smartest move– and he would be lying to himself if he wasn’t a little curious. Phil finds a Federation waiter and takes two glasses from them, handing one to Missa. He takes a little sip and the bubbles burst like candy on his tongue, the sharp tang of alcohol making the inside of his mouth and the back of his throat warm. Phil is watching him, and Missa watches him back in turn.

“So what’s your role?” Phil asks. Missa blinks.

What is his role? It’s not something he’s thought too much about, although perhaps he should’ve. His role is support, he thinks. A shoulder for his teammates to lean on, brought by direct order of the king. He’s pretty sure he was a last minute addition, the first new person– he has to stop, remind himself not to even think about his country’s name– the first new person the blues have brought in a few years. Of course he’d caught the attention of someone like Phil. Maybe that’s his role. A distraction.

“Diplomacy,” he says, but he’s pretty sure the long pause before his answer gave away the thought he put into it. Internally, he curses himself.

“Pretty sure we’re all here for that,” Phil points out, a brow raised.

“Exactly,” Missa says, hoping he comes across smoother than he feels. He’s not lying, at least. “So why do you… why do you look surprised?”

“I don’t,” Phil says, despite looking skeptical throughout this whole conversation. Missa’s about to open his mouth again and say something, probably something stupid, when something catches his attention. A blue flower pinned to a jacket, approaching at a quick pace, the face above the lapel a familiar one. Missa stands up a little straighter and Phil clearly notices, glancing over his shoulder as a short young man with two-toned brown and blonde hair.

“Hello, gentlemen,” he says, sidling up to their conversational space.

“Your–” Missa remembers a split second too late they’re on Federation territory, and quickly recovers with, “You’re here!”

“Sure am, bossman,” Tubbo says, looking at him with a quizzical expression. “We did arrive in the same carriage after all.” Phil coughs into his hand, covering a laugh, and Missa feels his cheeks go red. Thankfully, Tubbo turns his attention to Phil and Missa can relax somewhat. “Mister Za.”

“Tubbo,” Phil says genially, raising his glass at him. “Long time no see. How’s the weapon of mass destruction going?”

“Hey now,” Tubbo says, grinning and elbowing Phil in the side. “Hey now, Philza, I’m sure I didn’t hear you right, did I? Did I? Talking politics at the opening gala?”

“I would never,” Phil says, resting his hand lightly above his heart. Missa lifts his own glass to his mouth and swallows a large mouthful. For some reason, with Tubbo’s arrival, he feels like he might need it.

“I see you’ve kidnapped our newest attendee,” Tubbo says, and Missa sends him a mental message over their brainwaves and with the slightest widening of his eyes– help me. “Mind if I steal him back?”

“All yours,” Phil says, but Missa doesn’t miss the way the man looks a little disappointed.

“You can pick his brain for info at a later date,” Tubbo says, grabbing Missa’s arm. He’s shorter than Missa by a hot minute, and he almost has to bend down for it to actually make sense. “Until tomorrow, old man.”

“Bye, Tubbo,” Phil says. He smiles at Missa, the crow’s eyes crinkling at the edges of his temples. “Nice to meet you, Missa.”

Missa barely has time to squeak out, “You too,” before Tubbo is dragging him away. Once they’re out of sight, Tubbo heaves a giant sigh.

“Man, that guy is an asshole,” he says, and Missa splutters.

“He seemed nice.”

“He’s a manipulative prick. And a deadly one at that. I’m just glad you don’t know enough to accidentally spill any important beans. The beans must be contained, Missa. Keep it straight. Or, at least– keep it honest.” Tubbo gives his arm a little shake as Missa digests all that. He barely has a moment before there’s another weight on his other side, and he looks down to find Tina clutching his other arm.

“Missa!” she says cheerfully. Her cheeks are rosy and her hair is done up intricately on top of her head, crowned with a few flowers. Her dress, a brilliant gauzy pink, flows around her legs like water. “Who were you talking to! Tubbo, who was he talking to?”

“Philza,” Tubbo says before Missa can answer her. She gasps.

“The angel?” she asks. “No way! He’s so scary.”

“He wasn’t that bad,” Missa says quickly.

“That’s what he wants you to think,” Tubbo points out. “It’s all part of the game here. Make you think he’s not so scary, make you trust him–”

“And then he stabs you in the back!” Tina says a little too loudly. She even makes a stabbing motion to go with it, her wrist twisting out into the open air in front of them. Missa pats her arm. He has no idea what to think anymore– even if Tubbo and Tina are right, Phil had still been cordial, and isn’t the whole point of a Summit to come to agreement?

“Tubbo,” he says, turning slightly to look at the other. “Tubbo, are we even here to…”

“To…?”

“Work together?”

Tubbo’s eyes furrow and his brows draw tightly together. “Missa,” he says. “You know it’s… well, it’s complicated. But sure, we’re here to work together.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Missa asks, and Tubbo, who has pointedly not been looking at him for the past thirty seconds, pats his arm and breaks away.

“We can talk about it later, my guy. Now, everyone says the opening gala isn’t meant to be political, myself included, but let’s be real. Everyone’s digging for info. It’s my turn. You guys have fun, don’t get too wasted.”

“Okay, says you,” Tina says, rolling her eyes. Tubbo grins cheekily at her, turning away. Missa is left bereft, still bursting to the brim with questions but his mouth is sticky and tacky, not wanting to move. The cotton in his throat is hard to swallow past, so he just takes a long sip of the dry champagne. It does nothing to loosen his tongue, so he takes a bigger swig and is surprised to find the flute empty.

Tina’s been talking at him for the last thirty seconds, he realizes.

“–says that when last time he was the one to get so drunk he couldn’t come to the meeting the next morning. So they moved it this year, so all the discussion takes place in the afternoon tomorrow to give us time to recover! It’s Tubbo’s fault! It usually is– I think the Federation really doesn’t like him, but who am I to tell?” She giggles, hand over her mouth. “Don’t tell them I said that though. Or Tubbo. He’s a fan of the Feds, or at least, one Fed. If you know what I mean.”

Missa has a feeling he does not know what she means. The champagne flute has apparently magically left his hand. The world is dancing around him, ghostly lights flickering in front of his eyes. Tina seems to notice his distance and reaches up on her toes to pat his cheek– the force of it drags him back down to earth.

“Man, you good?” she asks. “Did that angel say something to you or what?”

“Phil?” Missa asks.

Tina raises a brow. “Is that his name? I thought he was a Minecraft.”

“You don’t know?”

“I dunno, I’ve never been brave enough to ask.”

“He approached me,” Missa says. “On a balcony.”

“He sniffs out his victims that way. Ooo, do you want to hear a rumor I heard about the reds? Something about toxic gas–”

“You know we aren’t supposed to gossip.” A new voice cuts through them, and Missa jumps about twelve feet into the air, yelping a little. Behind him, Bad laughs, coming around Missa’s right. “Oh, sorry Missa!”

"Oh, not this guy again," Tina complains, scoffing and rolling her eyes. “I can gossip all I want, mister party pooper.”

"Hey!" Bad frowns. "I thought you were better than that, Tina."

“Nope,” Tina says. Missa smiles at his two friends– people he knows are safe. They’re an island in a raging ocean of confusion right now, with languages and people surrounding him like hungry sharks. Missa is a fish out of water. But Tina and Bad bickering? That’s the most normal thing in the world.

“How are you, Missa?” Bad asks, looking at him. His hair has been pulled back into a slick ponytail, glasses perched delicately on his nose. As Missa watches, he pushes them up with one finger. “Anyone bothering you?”

“No,” Missa says, deciding not to tell Bad about Philza. He thinks that would be unwise. Tina also keeps her mouth shut, thankfully, and Missa’s heart swells with fondness. “Just enjoying the night.”

“It is beautiful out here,” Bad says, turning to look at the crowd of dancers. Then he glances around again, a frown sneaking onto his face. “I’m not the biggest fan of the Federation workers, though. I always forget how creepy they are.”

“You’re being mean, Bad,” Tina says. “They’re just workin’!”

“I don’t like not being able to see their faces,” Bad explains, and Missa can understand that. Occasionally he’ll catch a glimpse of a Federation waiter out of the corner of his eye, and something about the stark-white uniforms and fluttering gauzy mask makes his whole body startle.

“Just stay out of their way,” Bad says, patting Missa on the shoulder. “And you’ll be fine.”

“I’m not nervous,” Missa challenges, even though he’d expressed the exact opposite to Bad on the way here.

“I know a good way to calm down,” Tina says, smirking. She grabs Missa’s hand and jumps up and down a few times on the balls of her heels, face flushing red like roses. “Come dance with me! Come dance with me!”

“I can dance with you, Tina,” Bad says.

“Nope, no thanks,” Tina says. “I want to dance with Missa. Come on, come dance!”

“Oh, I don’t–”

“You can’t say no. I’m literally vetoing it,” Tina says firmly. “We can’t let those lessons Tubbo got you go to waste.”

“Fine,” Missa says, laughing a little as Tina laughs with glee. If it makes her happy, he doesn’t mind. Plus, the alcohol he’s consumed makes him a little looser, a little more eager to say yes. He’s in a foreign country with his friends and free reign to let loose for one night– no politics, no duties, no stress. Missa feels something lift from his shoulders, even as Tina’s hands settle into place and lead him out onto the dance floor.

“Have fun!” Bad calls out behind them. Tina sticks her tongue out where only Missa can see, and he laughs with her as they fall into step together, dancing like second nature.

“He’s so dumb,” Tina complains, and Missa lets her talk until she gets tired of talking. He likes Tina a lot– she’s comforting, and smart, and cool. She seems so confident all the time, and he knows from experience how sweet she can be. Eventually they’re both just dancing in silence except for the occasional humming from Tina, spinning in circles with a dozen other pairs.

“Tina,” Missa finally says, a question bubbling to the surface. “Earlier, Philza mentioned– Charlie and Mariana?”

“Oh yeah,” Tina says, blowing air into her cheeks. They puff up like a chipmunk, deflating as she lets out a stream of air. “Old news.”

“What about you?”

“What what about me?”

“Do you have anyone here?”

Tina goes quiet again. Missa almost thinks she’s crossed a line before she tugs him down a little. He puts his hands on her waist, lifts her a half-turn, her dress whirling like a cloud at sunset.

“Her name’s Bagi,” Tina says, right at the point where Missa is about to faint with anxiety.

“Oh,” he says, then sighs. Thank goodness. He glances around, once, twice. “Point her out?”

Tina purses her lips and he lifts her again, her hair dusting along his eyes this time. She giggles when he sets her down, and they dance another room length before she nods. “Over there,” she says, her eyes locked onto someone across the way. “She’s green.”

Missa looks, and finds a woman and a man in the direction Tina gestured; they’re talking– arguing, more like it, based on the way he’s gesturing and she’s standing there with a sour look. The matching streaks of white through their hair is interesting, as is the fact she’s green and he’s red.

“Her?” Missa asks.

Tina nods, a dreamy look in her eye. “She’s so pretty, isn’t she?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“The guy’s Cellbit. He’s a jerk. Don’t talk to him.”

“Are they–”

“Siblings. It’s a long story. Ask Bagi sometime. I’ll introduce you two.”

“Okay.” Missa smiles, and she smiles back. He’s starting to get tired of dancing, and Tina apparently is too, but the music switches from something upbeat to a slower song and it’s easier then.

During this is when Missa looks over, and finds Phil watching him. He’s standing beside two other men, one of which has a shock of white hair and a fluffy white cravat, the other bald and intense. They’re both wearing green flowers and talking amongst themselves, but in the moment he finds himself watching them, Phil is staring right at Missa through the crowds.

He catches his gaze and feels himself flush. His heart literally skips a beat, feeling as though someone’s reached their hand inside his ribcage and squeezed. His breath catches– he quickly looks away. Some people come between them and, when he glances over next, Phil isn’t looking anymore. He’s talking to the two green men, animated and smiling.

“You okay?” Tina asks. When he looks down at her (heart racing, pounding, cheeks burning) she’s smiling at him, kind and sweet and familiar. He takes a minute to calm his nerves and straighten his spine.

“Yeah,” he says. Tina laughs and spins him around, her gloved hands like ice on his shoulders.

The next time Missa looks over to where Phil had been standing, the man is gone.

#qsmp #q!missa #q!philza #team soulfire #pissa #phissa #qsmp purgatory #back to my fantasy worldbuilding roots #get ready for some sweet sweet angst #this is a pissa fic but im going to be introducing literally everyone i can soooooooooooooooooooooo #my writing

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