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#i know this is probably not exactly what you meant but i wanted to do something soft for gale
mj0702 · 16 hours
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@helen-with-an-a ... I take your raise and go all in...
The whole Barca team was gathered in Mapís and Ingrids garden having a small get together before everyone left for their holidays – or charities as that's how Alexia likes to spend her time off. There where small groups standing together having small conversations amongst themselves while Lucy got suck with the task of grilling the meat wearing a “Don't kiss the cook”-apron which Mapí, Pina and you ignored and smooched your sister quiet theatrical before you all got smacked away with the tongs aggressively. It was a nice warm summer night in Barcelona and everyone was having a good time enjoying the time with their friends. Everyone? Oh no... not everyone.
“ARSENAL??????!!!!!!!!” your voice could be heard from inside the house and probably in the whole neighborhood
The whole team stopped talking and looked towards the living room door which connected the inside with the garden
“ARSENAL???!!!!” you screeched again as you appeared in the door looking with wide eyes at Keira
“What?” your sister shook her head at your actions “You finally lost your plot?”
“Why am I finding out ONLINE you're transferred to ARSENAL??!!” you ignored Lucy and just stared at Keira
“No one...” the blonde started knowing exactly what you meant carefully making her way towards you but you already took a step back “... Bitsy”
“No... no you don't get to call me that anymore you backstabbing B...” you started before your sister interrupted you
“Oy... watch your mouth!” Lucy said getting angry herself – still not knowing what was going on but she didn't raise you to talk to Keira of all people like that
“You know what... I don't care... you're dead to me” you looked Keira straight in the eye your voice full of venom
“Bitsy” the blonde tried again tears forming in her eyes but before she made it to the door you were already gone
“What's going on Kei??” Lucy asked lowly ushering her ex-girlfriend inside getting her away from all those questioning looks from their teammates
“Arsenal offered a LOT of money for me to transfer back home” Keira sniffed as her tears started to fall “Nothing is set in stone but obviously there where rumors...”
“Fuck me” your sister groaned loudly and Ona joined them since she became good friends with Keira before she even started dating Lucy
“What's going on?” the small spaniard asked worried looking around if she could spot you
“My sister is being a plonker again” Lucy said “... she read something online and she didn't come to talk to Kei instead she got to her own conclusions and OF COURSE they are wrong but she's gone now”
“We need to find her....” Keira suddenly stood up wiping her tears away marching towards the door you left through mere minutes ago
“Kei you know it's no use... we'll find her either if the Police picks her up or if she wants to be found.. Barcelona is too big to search it... even if we pull all hands on deck” your sister said after she caught up with her ex-girlfriend holding her back grabbing her wrist
“I need to do something Lucy” the blonde said and Lucy and Ona saw how it stressed the english woman not knowing about your whereabouts
“You need some alcohol in your system” Lucy said pulling Keira back signaling Ona to inform their capitan about what happened
“What if she...” Keira started trying to turn around again
“No what ifs... she'll be back at some point” your sister said firmly “... when did our roles reverse? Normally I'm the one panicking”
“Yeah well she didn't call you a backstabbing bitch and then ran off” the blonde deadpanned while she let Lucy pull her back outside and Ona immediately pushed a beer into the blondes hand
“I knew I would find you here...” you suddenly heard behind you scaring the absolute shit out of you
“Go away” you said harshly as you aggressively wiped away your tears
“No... my english might not be good but we talk” the dark haired spaniard said as she sat down next to you in the sand looking at the Ocean
“No offense but you ask people if they work” you said raising your eyebrow
“Yeah well she was at every game... I got... confundida” Aitana shrugged her shoulders
“You what?” you looked at her confused
“Confundida... ehrm.. I not know if she works” the dark haired looked at you and suddenly understood what she meant
“Confused... the word is confused” you smiled very lightly
“Sí... confused... but that's not the... punto...” Aitana said before she thought for a second “... point... that's not the point why I walked away from a great party”
“You can walk right back... I'm not stopping you” you said defensively
“I can't... you hurt mi hermanita” the spaniard said sternly and for the first time you saw the protective side of Aitana Bonmatí off the field
“Your what?” you tried to dodge the bullet – you knew very well what “hermanita” meant
“Stop it... you hurt Keira... I want to know why” Aitana said looking straight at you while you kept your eyes trained forward watching the Ocean
“You wouldn't understand” you said sadly laying your head on your knees hugging your legs
“Then try to understand me” the dark haired said a little softer as your body language told her you try to close yourself off and she needed to act quickly
“It's easier to hurt than get hurt... It's easier to end something then being ended... she's leaving... she's leaving not only Barcelona but me too... She left before – but she left to come here... I knew it got easier again to see Lucy AND Keira again... but now? I don't want to go back to England... I rather go to Germany... but I want me family in one Place... Luce and Ona are great... they're good for each other... but no one can take Keiras place... so I rather push her away and make her hate me than to see her go through Security here in Barcelona for the last time knowing she's not coming back” it suddenly broke out of you at some point your voice cracking and Aitana saw the tears rolling down your cheeks but let you talk “... I love Leah and Beth and Kyra and everyone at Arsenal... but it's not Keiras club... not her style... Her club is City.... it's the only Jersey that fits her except for the national one... Arsenal wouldn't even know what to do with someone as good as Kei...”
“So you thought spitting... names at her would work out in your favor?” Aitana asked lowly trying to get to the ground of your actions
“I didn't think... I just got so angry...” you cried silently “.. Lucy did the same you know.. when she left for Lyon... she didn't tell me... I found out online.... I never thought Kei would do the same”
“What's the real problem?” the spaniard pushed you slightly knowing that wouldn't be all
“She... she.... she...” you started to cry harder and even you were a part of the team now Aitana and you weren't super close but now the spaniard carefully pulled you into her side
“It's okay bebé... está bien bebé... déjalo salir... encontraremos una solución...” Aitana mumbled against your hair holding you closely while you sobbed heartbreakingly into her shirt
“She'll forget about me...” you sobbed out fisting Aitas shirt not knowing what else to do
“Y/n... we don't even know if she is leaving – yes, Arsenal offered money for her but Barca is not interested in letting her go... neither is Keira – she doesn't want to leave” the spaniard said softly
“She'll just forget about me” you sobbed not getting control over your emotions
“She would never” Aitana kept her soft tone “... you ARE her pequeño... even if she got hit in the head and doesn't remember her own name – she'll never olvidar tú”
“Why would she never olive? She hates olives” you calmed down a little bit but still couldn't stop the tears
“Olvidar... you speak catalan but not spanish?” Aitana chuckled at your confusion and started do wipe your tears away with her thumb “She'll never forget you bebé”
“I could never Bitsy... and whatever you throw at me I won't go away... you are to important to me to let you go or give up chasing after you” you heard Keiras voice behind you and before you even started thinking about it your body reacted and you pushed yourself off Aitana springing up running.
This time Keira knew what your reaction would be and reacted faster than you so you ran straight into her and before you knew what was happening Keira held you in a death grip against her.
“Calm Bits... it's okay... you're okay... sssshhh... calm down” the blonde whispered against your hair as you tried to fight her
“.... you're okay...” Keira repeated it over and over again until your fighting got less and she felt the tears against her neck and how you suddenly cling to her like your life depended on it
Keira looked up meeting Aitanas sorrowful look and mouthed a “Gracias” at her friend as she kept hold of you swaying you slightly from left to right trying to calm you down
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Comet, hey - are you okay? That was brave of you and I know Sun (even if he may not show it) and Eclipse appreciate you being there. Do you remember what happened, by the way?
Eclipse will need your help. I know you may not want to help him but something is wrong and he just isn't the type to admit to it.
You're a good friend, Comet! Even if it's hard to see some days!
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.... Thanks.... I guess I should probably calm down before I talk to him.
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A-and yes, um, I remember everything that happened. I-I knew exactly what I was doing and saying the whole time, and I meant all of it, but at one point it felt like I wasn't entirely.... controlling myself.... like, I wanted to do and say that stuff but it was as if someone else was operating my body...... It was weird....
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• 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭(𝐞𝐫) 𝐅𝐞𝐲𝐝 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 Part Two
Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen imagine (?)
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Just something short, but it seems like you liked my first one, so here is Part Two. Also a bit dark Feyd here, I think.
-> Part One 🖤 >> Part Two ⬇️ >> Part Three?
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Once again, Feyd loves your gentle touches. He didn't understand them at first, they almost shocked him. He'd asked you what you were doing, twitching and irritatedly avoiding your gentle fingers. It had hurt you deeply, which he had quickly realized. He also realized that he didn't want to feel these feelings. So he drew closer to you day by day and allowed your gentle touches. Not long later, he loves them and enjoys every second of it. He would never admit it, but of course you notice it. And you also love it when he lets himself fall inside you. And it doesn't necessarily have to be sexual. When your hands caress his muscles, when you speak softly and whisper beautiful words to him. Be it about himself, about the death and dying of your both enemies or anything else that would make him happy.
Togetherness with you is very important to him. And he almost doesn't care how. Be it training, simply talking (if there is enough time during the daylight), lying in bed together at night and snuggling up close to each other, even in silence. Words don't always have to be spoken. Your closeness to each other is enough to say. Feyd would never consider silence to be bad as long as you are close together.
He often takes a closer look at your body, especially in the evening / at night. Not just to see what injuries you have sustained during training. Just so he knows that you're here with him. When he had nightmares about your death or your disappearance into the pure darkness several times, he almost didn't let you out of his sight for a few days. Just to make sure that you were still with him. toxically meant *cough* He has these nightmares regularly and is sometimes better and sometimes worse at controlling himself and his actions.
As soon as he have even a shred of time, he'll look for you. He knows all the places you like to go. And if he can't find you, he'll get angry. As soon as Feyd finds you in your or his chambers in the evening, he'll ask you where you've been. On the one hand, he is afraid that you will leave him. Another fear in him is that you will be touched by another man again. There are far too many possibilities in his head of what could have happened, when he can't find you.
The Na-Baron keeps emphasizing that he forbids you to die. At first you thought it was a joke, but each time you realize that he is dead serious. "I only allow you to bleed to death from my bites. Nothing else!" You read a lot into those words. He didn't want you to die in a fight, otherwise you would probably be weak in his eyes. On the other hand, you wonder why he would inflict all that pain to you with his teeth, when they're supposed to be, even in his words, 'love bites'.
Sometimes he unsettles you so much that it drives you crazy. However, you don't show this because you know that it would only lead to problems. But he notices your behavior and asks what's wrong. And he knows 99% of the time when you're lying. But, he doesn't always know what the truth is. But he knows exactly how to relax you and your body. actually, his words THEN only stress you out more lol
He inflicts pain on you in his own way - because he can't and won't do anything else. He bites you bloody when he's in the mood for it and he often holds you so tightly in his arms that it hurts. Sometimes it feels to you as if he could break your ribs in the next few seconds. The Harkonnen is also expressing his feelings for you, because his feelings for you are hurting him. I have explained this a little here. It makes him feel weaker, and he doesn't like that.
At the same time, you strengthen his self-confidence, but also lower it, because he had always sworn that he would never feel anything like love or similar to anyone. It had always been a weakness for him. He had loved his whores, but in a completely different way to the way he adores you.
When Feyd gets the idea, he sprays his perfume on your skin. So that everyone knows you've been with him and his scent 'sticks' to you. He also likes to smell his shower gel on you. It's like another confirmation for him that you are his when you smell like him.
When he has the time and inclination, he simply sits quietly next to you or on the bed and watches you do your hair (whether long or short). He finds the jewelry in your hair fascinating and very pretty. He's rarely seen anything like it before you. And precisely because it's you, he likes to watch you do it. Even when you do your make-up, but he's not a big fan of that. Mascara and, what he likes on you, and pink blush is enough for him. In the evening, at events, he likes to see lipstick on you.
He also finds your clothes fascinating. A lot of it is unusual, eye-catching. Sometimes more, sometimes less elegant. But you know when to wear what. But he doesn't need to see you in sexy underwear. He prefers to undress you completely anyway when he wants to be intimitate with you. But your jewelry, such as necklaces, body chains and rings, can stay on your body.
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He knows one, two pretty nightdresses of yours. Nevertheless, he wants to keep you naked or in your panties in bed, pressed close to him. If it's cold, one of his sweat pants on you is fine for him. But he always wants to have your upper body free.
Apart from inflicting bites and hickeys all over you, Feyd especially likes to do it on your back. The large surface is like a canvas for him, which he can decorate as he pleases. Over and over again. He knows that many of your clothes are backless and so his marks are perfectly visible to everyone. This is not the case with your breasts and between your thighs, so your body part lends itself very well to this.
Feyd doesn't really care about the size of women's breasts. The same goes for the bottom. It should match the rest of your figure, that's all he cares about. He also knows a lot about the female body in general. He's already happily interested in it, just to understand it. He also knows what happens during pregnancy (vomiting, sometimes tiredness, body changes etc.) and it doesn't bother him in the slightest. As soon as you're pregnant, he even wants you to lay down your weapons and rest at a certain point. You and his offspring are too important to him for you both to be hurt anywhere.
Since he has feelings for you, he almost doesn't care what gender his child will be. It was only because of you, that he saw that women can also be very good warriors. And he thinks that with your warrior genes, and his anyway, a female offspring can't be bad. A male heir is desired, but with time he can be more or less satisfied with the idea of fathering a female.
Nevertheless, he doesn't want to impregnate you until the Baron, his uncle, has disappeared from the scene. Because you only find out much later that it is traditional to murder the mother shortly after giving birth. A (Na-)Baroness is only useful for offspring, nothing else. With you, Feyd's opinion has changed completely. And once he's Baron, can make some new rules - that would be the first thing he'd change. He wants to have you by his side and give you power over Giedi Prime and the galaxy, not drag you behind him as a stupid slave or doll.
Feyd loves to have pure power over your body. This works best sexually. Knowing what he can make you feel, makes his ego soar to unimaginable heights. When he has control over your body, emotions, mind and soul and he very quickly figured out which strings to pull to make you feel good which sometimes almost kills you. He loves to bite your breasts, the inside of your thighs and your butt. All the parts of your body that can perfectly enclose his teeth.
When he realizes you're not feeling well, he sometimes bites you playfully. Often in the cheek, not particularly hard. Just to cheer you up somehow and hear you giggle. It's more serious for him when he bites you while you're asleep. At best in your back, where you can't run your hands over it. Not so hard that you bleed, but it's woken you up a few times. He lies, says he hasn't done anything. Or teases you and asks if you're even dreaming about him.
I have the feeling that he might find thicker thighs quite attractive. No matter whether it's feminine curves or muscles. He's got something to grab and bite! 😮‍💨
Feyd loves slow sex with you. He wants to touch you completely differently than he treated his pets before you. Ever since you became his fiancée, he won't touch them, even though they often try to persuade him. He doesn't consent.
He sometimes sees you, without ever wanting to tell you, as a nightmare and a sin. That he gives himself to you, has feelings for you. And will probably never really understand it. That he feels something for you that he never wanted to feel, because love has always been a weakness for him. He doesn't love like others, he loves you in his own way. Yet he knows he can't kill you, even if he sometimes wants to. He thinks that this feeling, this longing and passion for you, could then disappear - because then you would be gone. And these thoughts torment him. He finds both terrible.
Your nickname "Devil" therefore has a much deeper meaning for him than you would ever guess.
If you have seen each other very little or not at all, mostly because of his uncle, you can assume that he will spend many hours with you in a waking state as soon as this is possible again. As already mentioned, he finds it pleasant to listen to you when you have something to say. It's a wonderful pastime for him when he's done training alone or teaching-Na-Baron-things. You read a lot of books about Giedi Prime and other things, but you like much rather have Feyd explain it to you.
He also likes to take a pretty bath with you, aside from the thermals. He's not a fan of hot water, but he tries as much as he can to be close to you. He probably wouldn't admit it either, but he likes the scent of your bath salts. And he doesn't mind smelling like you sometimes.
When he has slept in your chambers and watches you sleep briefly before he leaves, he often takes something of yours with him. Jewelry works well, as he has discovered. He hides it in his sleeve or pocket, plays with it in between (throws a ring up and down, for example). He likes to have something of yours to accompany him throughout the day. If you notice that something is missing, he lies and says with a grin that you should take better care of your things. Then the stuff suddenly reappear.
He couldn't describe how much he loves it, when you lean your head against his chest. No matter whether you are standing, sitting on his lap or snuggled up close to each other. When you place little kisses on his chest muscles, he likes to kiss your skull and nuzzle your neck and hair. Until his comforting purr turns into a deep growl and you know he's in the mood for you.
It is absolutely no problem for him to satisfy you orally during your menstruation. He did it the first time so that you would realize that he is not disgusted by you in any ways. It's also supposed to be a sign of his feelings for you. He loves to taste your blood, which is sweet to him all the time. And he doesn't care from which part of your body you're bleeding. The main thing is that he gets as much of it on his tongue as possible without having to kill you. On the other hand, he hopes it will distract you from the pain. (Again, he knows a lot about the womens body.)
Feyd sometimes imagines what it would look like, when you would to bleed to death in his arms. The red liquid would look so beautiful on you, decorating your body like jewelry. He would smile - probably not even realizing that you are dying - your beauty dazzles him, his perception and senses. There are moments when he looks at his knives and swords and thinks about which one he could use to cut your skin and flesh. But he manages to shake the thought aside, because he knows that it would only cause you pain. And he doesn't want that. He sometimes finds release in his dreams and is happy when he wakes up to be able to hold you close to him and hear and feel your heartbeat.
✨Did I forgot something? 🤔
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withleeknow · 10 hours
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wishful thinking. (07)
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chapter seven: built to break
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summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.
pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut; the gorlies are fighting...?, not much for warnings in this chapter ig word count: 4.3k note: i finally got off my ass and wt is finally back lol. i had a last minute change of plans and thought "oh! you know what would be pretty neat? if we prolong the angst so everyone can be sad for longer!" <3 and this is how i announce that the next chapter is not wt8 but wt7.5 and it's written from his pov <3 merry christmas
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
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I’ll hold my breath as I wait for your answer I’ll leave it up to you Tell me whether it’s yes or no Baby, love me or leave me tonight
Love Me or Leave Me - Day6
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The warning signs, they're there. You can see them before they materialize. You know your own tells.
Your metaphorical bags are packed, your shoes are already on. You're about to run again, leave a half empty house before it has the chance to become a home. No one has to tell you that you're a flight risk; you're well aware of it yourself.
Wednesday Min: got plans tonight? You: booked and busy with ze old canvas Min: tomorrow? You: same thing probably. sorry Min: u're working hard lately You: yeah this one is just driving me crazy and i need it to turn out decent Min: it'll be perfect. it's u
Thursday Min: running errands at the store Min: want me to bring u anything? that caramel popcorn u like?
Friday Min: don't work too hard. remember to eat
That was three days ago, the last time you'd heard from him after you left him on read. It wasn't a complete lie; this project is driving you kinda crazy and you do need it to end up a decent piece, but you weren't exactly holed up in your apartment to slave over your painting. And you suppose Minho didn't find it all that suspicious because you tend to do this sometimes - disappear for a couple of days and force yourself to focus whenever you had a project to finish, before you come back to everybody again. You've come back to him before; it stands to reason that you'll do it again.
It's been about two weeks since you'd seen him, though the memories of that evening are still fresh in your mind - the evening of the group dinner, when he'd kissed you goodnight and left for his parents' house the following day. True to his words, he did send you pictures of the cats - ones of Soonie wearing a matching hoodie with him, a few of Doongie and Dori napping at the foot of his bed. There was an accompanying text - The kids miss you - along with a frowning emoji, and it made you wonder if what he really meant was I miss you.
You wanted him to miss you, because you missed him too.
The photos brought a smile to your face despite the predicament you found yourself in. A smile that was short lived, a smile that was soon wiped off when you realized your heart shouldn't be swelling with that much affection for him. It shouldn't, but the truth was that it did and you don't know how to live with it.
Love isn't something you've ever learned to hold.
It's beautiful yet full of thorns, and your hands are too clumsy to ever keep it from slipping from your fingers.
You remember when you first met Minho. Freshman year, at some popular senior's house party.
It feels like forever ago when you were just an awkward freshman at orientation who didn't have a single clue on how to make friends. Jess was your first friend in college, and you'll always be grateful that you got along well enough that she adopted you into the group with the rest of the guys.
You didn't cross paths with Minho until you were already acquainted with everyone else. On the night of the party, you remember being enamored with him for those couple of hours, and it wasn't the side effect of too many solo cups of cheap beer. Who in their right mind wouldn't be infatuated with him? He was beautiful, absolutely alluring, and you would always tell him as much.
Back then, he had brown hair, slighter shorter than now but it was tinted with the most gorgeous shade of red. You didn't know much about Minho, only been told that he was pretty quiet and might be off-putting to new people. It was sort of true; that night, you were intimidated by the aura he exuded. Mysterious, couldn't be bothered, didn't seem to give a shit. He looked like a scary little thing, while you were the new kid who was only trying to observe everyone's dynamics, not wanting to overstep any unspoken boundary.
To this day, you're still not sure what really happened, how you two immediately clicked and he's been one of the most important parts of your life ever since.
Maybe it was just him. Maybe it's always been him.
Minho, the one who makes you smile when all you want to do is curl up and cry. The one who makes you laugh when you look for joy but the search comes up empty. The one who grounds you every time you lose your way. Your anchor, the safe harbor you can always return to. The light at the end of a long, long tunnel.
You don't know where you stand, don't know where it goes from here now that everything is changing. He told you so himself, that nothing changed for him, but how could he possibly know that everything is changing for you? And it infuriates you to no end because you don't even have anyone to talk about this with. You're the only person whose world is being turned upside down after all.
You can't tell your friends because they can't know about you and Minho. You can't tell Minho because what would you even say? That you think you're in love with him? That the implications of what it means are devastating to you?
For the first time, you regret everything. Kissing him that night, sleeping with him, becoming whatever this is with him. Letting down your guard and falling for him somewhere along the way and you didn't even stop to notice it. You regret all of the decisions you've made up until now, because they've only led you to the point of no return, the point of losing him. You made bad decision after bad decision after bad decision, until you couldn't anymore. All along, there's been no one else to blame but you.
Maybe it hasn't happened yet, but it's inevitable. You will lose him. You are going to lose him.
There's no other ending, no other alternative that you can imagine. You're going to leave because you're a coward and it's what you do best. You ruin things before they get a chance to hurt you. You leave because if you don't leave then you'll be left behind, and you'd rather not bear the brunt of it.
Now, when you think of Minho, the thought is always accompanied by a painful reminder - Nothing changed for him.
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When you get to the cafe, Hyunjin and Seungmin are already seated in a corner booth, three drinks in front of them, one of which they'd ordered for you before you arrived.
You slide into the seat next to Hyunjin, smiling at him appreciatively for the drink. There's still over half an hour before you have to walk to your shared class, over half an hour before Seungmin parts ways with you two to do whatever or whoever it is that Seungmin does on his off days.
"I still think it's Nara," Hyunjin says, casually sipping his iced coffee.
"Nara from your Lit class last semester?"
"Yup."
"Why?"
"I saw them talking at a party once."
"Okay. And?"
"And what? That's it."
"That's... all the evidence you have to back up your claim?"
"Pretty much, yeah."
You wave your hands in front of them. "What are you bozos talking about?"
"He’s still trying to figure out who Minho is hooking up with," Seungmin is the one who answers you without missing a beat, then he turns back to Hyunjin. "Anyway, it can't be Nara. She's dating Jaehyun on the basketball team."
The friend next to you flails his arms like a petulant child, like he couldn't have possibly seen this coming, like he was so sure that he had finally solved the mystery. "Great. I'm back to square one again."
You straighten your back and reach for your drink, tentatively gulping down the beverage as if it'll hide the fact that you've gone stiff the second this topic is brought up. You feel bad about it, sure. These are your friends that you're lying to after all. They don't have to look anywhere far; the answer to the secret is right in front of them.
"We're still on about that?" you ask in the calmest, most nonchalant voice you can muster. You usually consider yourself a believable liar (which, to be honest, isn't really a flex at all), but whenever someone mentions this little arrangement between you and Minho that shouldn't be common knowledge for anyone else, you feel like you're been put under a spotlight for the whole world to scrutinize.
"Duh," Hyunjin says. "You know, I'm kinda surprised that you don't know. You two are like, attached at the hip sometimes."
You give him a thoughtless shrug, your hands fiddling with the sticker on the plastic cup as you avoid looking at either of your friends. "Maybe he just wants to keep private things private, y'know? You wouldn't like either if all of us is suddenly all up in your business. And besides, what if it's just casual?"
Hyunjin scoffs. "Please, I'm an open book. I tell you guys everything. I tell you every time I hook up with someone."
"Yeah, but you see, literally no one needs to know that," Seungmin says.
The taller one only scoffs, waving his hands around dismissively in Seungmin's direction before he turns to you. "If it was just casual, would he save her name as - oh my God, I forgot what her contact name is. Freaking bird person or something."
You make a face. "What?"
"Dude, seriously?" Seungmin rolls his eyes. "You forgot one word? Dove? What is the matter with you?"
Perhaps it's the half-hearted teasing judgment in Seungmin's voice that makes Hyunjin take offense and drop the topic. The conversation veers off course when they start bickering like children in the busy cafe. You suppose it works in your favor, but you can't focus. You drown it all out.
Your hand is still on the cup but the sticker has been left alone and forgotten, half peeled off, half still clinging to the plastic underneath the condensation.
The single word repeats itself in your mind, over and over and over again.
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The entire time you're in class, you don't really focus on anything. You can't bring yourself to listen to whatever your professor is saying, not after what Hyunjin and Seungmin told you earlier. At some point, your friend has to nudge your shoulder to bring you back down to earth when usually, you're the one who has to remind Hyunjin to pay attention. Class ends soon enough though; time tends to fly by when your mind is lost elsewhere.
"What's wrong with you today?" he asks with his bag slung over his shoulder, slowing down his steps to match your speed as you walk out of the lecture hall together.
You scratch the back of your neck sheepishly. "Nothing's wrong. I was just tired."
"You wanna grab dinner with me and Felix?"
Any other day, you would've agreed in a heartbeat. But today, you want to be alone. Sometimes, you'd rather wallow in your own misery than settle for a temporary distraction.
You're still stuck on the conversation from earlier, on the small detail that Hyunjin and Seungmin had let slip in the cafe.
Dove.
His dove.
Maybe it doesn't mean anything. Perhaps it's only a nickname that he's assigned to you out of mere platonic fondness, but it makes you conscious about the dove on your own wrist nonetheless, the one that you feel compelled to hide from your friends underneath your long sleeve.
"No, it's okay," you tell Hyunjin. "I'll just go home and sleep it off."
"Okay. I can walk you for a bit," he says. "Just wait with me here. Minho's coming to give me back something he borrowed."
"Minho's coming?" you ask too quickly for it to sound casual. There's a panicked edge that you can hear in your own voice, though you don't think Hyunjin picks it up as he unlocks his phone and types something on the screen.
"Yeah, he was at the library. He's coming over right now, should only be a couple minutes. Then I'll walk back with you."
You shift on your feet uneasily, but you cover it up by rubbing your hands on your arms to pretend like you're just cold. There's no excuse that you could think of that would justify why you can't stand here with Hyunjin for just two more minutes, without giving it away the fact that you're avoiding Minho.
You take in a quiet breath, put on your best brave face. Casual, nonchalant. It's just Minho. Just Minho...
He comes up from behind, where you can't see him. A warm hand gently lands on your shoulder, and it takes everything not to shy away from his touch. It takes even more not to lean into his side.
You've missed it. You've missed him.
"Hey." He smiles at you while Hyunjin only gets a nod in acknowledgment.
"Hey." You return the smile, though you're sure you look a little rigid. You can tell there's an inkling of confusion in his eyes when he senses that your energy is off, but you're thankful he doesn't comment on it, at least not in front of Hyunjin anyway.
You don't notice the paper bag in his other hand until he hands it to your other friend with a simple Thanks, to which Hyunjin just nods along in a silent You're welcome.
"I was going to walk with Y/N for a bit and then meet Felix for food," he tells Minho. "You wanna get burgers with me and Lix?"
"No, thanks. I'm not hungry, I had a late lunch. I'll take the walk though."
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You didn't plan on being alone with Minho today, even though you knew you had to talk to him eventually. You just thought you had a little more time, at least until you got your shit together and face him with a brave façade.
Minho's hand brushes yours the entire time you walk, and it's nothing if not confusing. It's unbearable, the way your fingers twitch with the urge to intertwine them with his.
It persists even after Hyunjin has waved you goodbye to you two and turned to head wherever he and Felix agreed to meet. You think Minho would hold your hand now that it's just you and him, but he doesn't. He lets your skin continue to brush, lets you suffer alone and wanting in your sunken disappointment.
It has very little to do with him and everything to do with you, the conflicting thoughts inside your head piling up one by one the more time you spend in his presence.
Dove, the brief display of jealousy at Yeonjun's party, the way he looks at you sometimes that you can't really decipher the meaning behind, how he kisses you so tenderly that it can't possibly be strictly platonic. You want these things to all mean something, and yet...
You want him to hold your hand, but you know you'd wave it off if he tries to reach for your fingers. You want him to stop you right then and there to kiss you breathless, just as he had that night two weeks ago, even though you're sure you'd only dodge his lips and push him away. You want to stay, you want to leave. You're terrified of things changing, but you wish that something, anything, would be different for him; that you aren't the only one who's spinning out of control. You love him, but you wish you didn't.
Eventually, Minho asks, "You okay?"
It's not until now that you realize this is the first time you've ever been this quiet around him. You purse your lips, glancing down briefly at your feet as you keep on treading the rest of the way home. "Yeah, all good. I'm just tired," you tell him, visibly unenthusiastic despite the smile you try to fake. "I just need to sleep it off."
"The project stressing you out?"
"I guess, yeah."
"And here I thought maybe you were avoiding me," he says, half a joke, half inquisitive. "Were you?"
"Was I what?"
"Were you avoiding me?"
You give him a weird look, one that's meant to be dismissive and call his question ridiculous even though you know you've been caught. And maybe it's the over-the-top glance that you throw his way and the way your pitch goes higher when you reply, "Why would I be avoiding you?" that makes him stop walking.
On the other side of the street, there's a couple of kids in high school uniforms, exchanging shy glances and sharing fond giggles.
Minho calls your name softly, and it's like you're just waiting for the ball to drop. You don't want to turn back and look at him, but what other option do you have? What else is there to do?
You can't decipher the expression on his face. He's still calm, but the air has turned serious, the silence of the mostly empty streets surrounding you only serves as the soundtrack of your impending heartbreak. The tender and innocent laughter fades away when young love moves further and further from where you stand. "What?" you ask with faux nonchalance as you look at him, another attempt at stalling. Biding your time even though a few more minutes aren't going to do any good for your case.
Anyone with half a braincell could tell that clearly it's not the truth, let alone someone who has learned to read you better than the back of his hand. He doesn't look like he believes you, though he doesn't push it, much to your surprise.
"Okay," he says after a moment of studying you, and this should be the part where you heave a sigh of relief because he's letting you off the hook for now, but your chest doesn't feel lighter at all. Your head is clouded with dread, with the anticipation that you're only delaying the inevitable.
You walk the rest of the way in awful silence, because you know that he knows something is wrong. You try your best to appear composed, but he sees right through you. You know he does.
You must look like a frightened animal, one that's about to take off running any second now.
When you reach your building, Minho is quick to keep you with him before you can make up a lame excuse and bolt.
"Hey," he starts, his voice so impossibly gentle that it hurts. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"
Heavier and heavier, it weighs you down until you feel like your chest is going to collapse. The nerves gnaw on you, clawing into you until you feel your heartbeat quicken, the overwhelming dread simmering low in your belly.
"I know," you say, but deep down, what you're really thinking is, Not this. This is the one thing I can't tell you.
"Is everything okay?"
It's the way that Minho's got his gaze set on you with those deep brown irises, the concern so apparent in them that it hurts you. It's the way he looks like he wants to reach out and touch you - a comforting hand on your shoulder or your back like you're so familiar with - but he has to hold himself back or you might slip away.
It's him, how he always puts you first, how he cares about you in ways that you've never been cared about before. He understands you, he sees you. It feels like it could be love if you let the lines blur just enough.
Is love supposed to hurt? Like this?
Maybe it's not that you don't know how to hold love. Maybe it's because you're not meant to hold it at all. Insignificant, unlovable.
And... it's the reminder that cuts through the dread like the sharpest knife.
You leave his question unanswered, because nothing is okay and you can't tell him any of it. You can't lie to him either, because it's the last thing that you want to do to him.
Instead, you ask, "We're good... right? We're okay?"
"What do you mean?"
You gesture between the two of you, though you're not sure what that's supposed to signify. "Just...," you trail off for a second, hesitant. "Nothing's changed, right?"
Minho doesn't answer right away. He looks at you for a moment, searching for something in your eyes that you can't tell if he's able to find.
He nods, seemingly wistful as he says, "Nothing's changed."
He seems unsure about it, at least more than he was just a few weeks ago when he told you the same thing in your apartment with his fingers wrapped around your wrist. The tug between his brows - though barely noticeable - tells you as much.
Is it because something is different now? Or does he only sound uncertain out of concern, because of you and how you're acting?
Then he continues, "For me, at least."
And there it is.
It's the confirmation this time around that turns you inside out so his simple words could cut into you.
You swallow thickly, put on a smile like you're pleased with his answer even though you're trying your hardest to stop yourself from shaking. Whatever energy you had left is instantly drained from you just because of a few words.
Your sentences get smashed together, tangled up like barbed wire and they only make you bleed when you try to pull them apart. All your nervous tics coming out to play despite your best efforts to keep them at bay. A frustrated hand running through your hair, gripping at the roots a little harshly. Your bottom lip pulled between your teeth and your eyes turning glassy for a split second before you blink the moisture away, because you can't let Minho see you like this. See you trying to keep your pathetic heart intact while he's none the wiser.
He's fine. And unlike you, he's going to be okay when this is over.
Unavoidable and inevitable, the end will come whether you like it or not. You're the only one who won't make it out unscathed, and it will only shatter you into more pieces the longer you drag this out.
Just rip the bandaid off. Salvage whatever you can. Stop digging the grave even deeper for yourself.
One second, then two, then three. You don't speak until you have enough faith that your voice is even enough to carry out a few sentences.
"Okay, uhm... I think I need some time for myself. We should..." But it isn't, and you crack halfway through. The sound is deafening to your own ears. "We should take a break. We should stop this."
Minho doesn't question if you mean the secret between the two of you, or your friendship entirely. Instead, he asks, "Why?"
"I told you." You clear your throat. "I need time for myself."
You can't tell what he's thinking, but the knife twists inside of you nonetheless.
He takes a step closer, you take a step back.
You watch as his face falls, and the same feeling mirrors itself within the confines of your ribcage. Your heart drops at the sight of his eyes, deep brown irises stained with a little confusion, then a little hurt though it lasts for only a few seconds. The slight slump of his shoulders, the absence of the familiar playfulness he always sports when he's with you.
He blinks.
"Time for yourself, or time away from me?"
You say nothing.
You don't address his question directly, and your reluctance to do so is a loud enough answer in and of itself. "Why does that matter? What's the difference?"
"It matters if I did something to upset you."
"You didn't."
"Okay. So?"
This is confusing, because he's not letting you rip the bandaid clean off and you don't know why. "Nothing's changed, right? If it didn't mean anything to you, why can't you just drop this?"
Minho is quiet for a beat. His eyes are searching again, but this time, you think he finds something.
Everything is still and you hate it - the silence of the streets, the scrutinizing orange glow of the streetlights as if they're watching the scene unfold, even the innocent cat that's sitting by itself on the balcony on one of the floors higher up. You hate all of it.
"I never said it didn't mean anything," he tells you.
It makes you a little angry for some reason, and there's enough red to cloud your vision because his words are contradicting and you're tired, you're so exhausted that you can't focus on what it is that he's really saying.
"So you lied to me?"
"I've never lied to you."
"I asked you before and you said nothing's changed. Now you're saying whatever this is didn't not mean anything. Make up your mind."
It gets redder when he keeps his eyes fixed on you, still so calm despite the frown that has returned to its place between his brows. Still so collected, while you're being pulled apart at the seams.
The ball doesn't drop the way you expect it to. It keeps falling so insufferably slowly, hanging over you like it's mocking you for being stupid, like it's milking every second of suspense to make you implode.
Until Minho speaks next and suddenly, it feels like the air has been sucked out of your lungs. His voice, still so soft and tender. His eyes, reading something in yours that you can't bear to admit out loud.
"You really don't see it, do you?"
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all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 24.06.2024]
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xxsycamore · 3 days
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Ok so like hrengtadzk💀
Napo and MC fucking but like the unlocked door. Someone walks in. huehuehuehue
Basically I'm gonna say it again cuz I was being incoherent. Napo and MC run off in the middle of the day (like you said in your public sex hcs about him) and someone does catch them behind a (un)locked. There's people who get off of it me
Pretty that's exhibitionism but somewhat without consent
Ludy your imagination is dangerous
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Napoleon + getting caught
Yes, it happens exactly how you pictured it, riding off the waves of excitement brought by the risk, with Napoleon teasing about how "Anyone could walk in, but we don't have to worry because you claimed you can be quiet, isn't that right?", being confident about his own ability to remain alert while fucking you. And truly, he is helping you stay quiet, be it by commanding you to bite the pillow or by clasping his hand tightly around your mouth.
Still, it's bound to happen sooner or later. Maybe he was too worked up and couldn't wait to pounce on you, maybe he fiddled with the key but never actually turned it in the lock... Suddenly the world has narrowed down to the two of you, all heavy breaths and rustling clothing and shallow thrusts that minimize the wet noises of copulation and the sweet nothings he says in your ear, making you toss your head to one side and then the other as if you want to deny the obscene thoughts he puts in your head... and you both get a little too much into it. And the door creaks open, the sound falling on deaf ears, as someone walks in.
Luckily, with those quickies, Napoleon always happens to be on top of you. It's only natural, that way he'd have complete control over every move, and you have to leave it to the commander in the room to conduct his strategy when the stakes are that high. It ends up working in your favor when you get caught in the act. Napoleon is the first to react, senses sharpened with years in the making from his past life, and even though his muscles tense, he remains completely still, shielding you with his body. You might have a more jumpy reaction, but he's got you in his grasp, knowing that it's best for you to remain where you are rather than try to crawl out from underneath him.
Not that the unfortunate resident who walked in would stay for long enough that you and Napoleon have to consider separating from each other. The guy excuses himself in the very next second and is out of sight before you can get a grasp of what's happening. You probably missed it, but it was something in Napoleon's eyes that drove him away. The door is slammed shut again and Napoleon is still buried inside you.
For someone who is always making himself available and cares deeply about helping his housemates, you understand that if that person remained just a second longer here, it would have meant that the mansion was burning down. At the very least.
Now, his following actions would be completely decided by your own reaction to what happened. He'll get on his elbows to have a better look at your face, he'll caress it and ask if you're alright. He'll say he's sorry for being so reckless. He will not touch you anymore if you got turned off by it.
But if you didn't... if you let him know that you're genuinely okay with what happened, if you rock your hips into his and show him how much you want him still... he won't be able to hold back anymore. He'll pin your hands down to the bed and fuck into you with new vigor, not even understanding himself in that moment. It could be his possessiveness clawing at him, making him want to erase the other person's presence from your mind completely. Even if they likely didn't get a glimpse of anything else than your face, isn't that enough to feel jealous over? Those are the lewd expressions that you do only for him. Noone else gets to see them.
Or maybe that's exactly what he achieved. By showing how much he owned you in that moment.
As a whole, it's pretty much hit or miss for him - largely decided by his partner's reaction to it, but also because the pleasure he gets out of it is momentarily and he'd be thinking about it afterward with an aftertaste of jealousy and regret in his mouth. He's not going to feel awkward facing the resident afterwards but he might still have to mention something about it, depending on who it was.
The situation ranges from Arthur's flirty "ohhh, space for one more ;) ?" (he's just trying to make it less awkward before he walks out of the room. i think.) to Isaac being traumatized for at least a week, to Sebastian rushing to his room to write in his diary, to Theo complaining out loud while he walks away about how he already has to be mindful of the same thing happening with Arthur and how he's this close to moving out.
5/10 "Liar. You're saying you liked it just a little bit, but I felt you tightening around me. Is this turning you on that much? Being watched as I take you? Do you wish they'd stayed longer, so you can make it clear to them how I'm the only one who can claim you, leave you well-loved and leaking my cum? You'll regret leaving me with this information, Nunuche."
-> (ALWAYS OPEN) send me a kink & I’ll give you a headcanon and rating for Napoleon!
🦶foot fetish 🥵breeding kink 🥕pregging 😈dom/sub 🍈breast kink ⛓bondage 🩸period kink 👄marking 🐺predator/prey 🏙public sex 🤗praise kink 👅 cunnilingus 🍌blowjobs (receiving)
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perfectlysunny02 · 1 day
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Several Sentence Sunday✨
here’s an excerpt of my newest fic poison in our veins (a prompt submitted by @tofanasmuse 💙) shout out to @diazsdimples for looking over it today, all my love, James🥰
Evan Buckley knows a booty call text when he sees one… he thinks. He’s both received and sent out many over the years.
So certainly the ‘you up?’ text he gets from Eddie Diaz at one o’clock in the morning, two days after they meet, is meant for someone else.
He sends back ‘??? Wrong person?’ without a second thought. There’s no way that was for him. Sure, they’ve been cordial ever since they pulled that bomb out of that man’s leg, but Buck wouldn’t call them friends exactly. He turns back to the movie playing on his laptop, the ding of his phone only going off moments later.
‘Is this not Evan Buckley?’
Eddie’s response brings Buck up short. So did he mean it for him? This is so confusing, Buck genuinely does not understand. The only conclusion is that he must be reading into it too much. He hasn’t had a hookup in so long, he’s probably just losing his touch. Eddie probably didn’t even mean it like that, anyway.
‘What do you want, Eddie?’
He isn’t expecting him to call in response to his question, but sure enough, Eddie Diaz 118 is flashing across his screen.
“Hello?” He asks, confused, his eyes flashing back his movie, wondering briefly if he should pause it before deciding not to.
“Just thinking about how much you’ve been a brat since I got here,”
tagging: @actuallyitsellie @whatisreggieshortfor @theotherbuckley @shyaudacity @wildlife4life @desert--moonchild @notnowtobey @persephones-stars @runicnotation @twopercentboy @tiltingheartand @tizniz
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avocadorablepirate · 12 hours
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What Do We Call This? - 12
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Pairing: Trafalgar Law x fem!reader
Summary: On a quest to find what you've been looking for, you acquire the help of the Straw Hat pirates, who've agreed to let you temporarily join them. There are however many challenges that come along with your temporary recruitment - an alliance with a certain Trafalgar Law being one of them.
Word Count: 2.1K
Warnings: fluff, angst, kinda slow burn, swearing, the occasional OP spoiler
A/N: I'm too sleep deprived to proofread the entire final part, so I decided I’d split it. But honestly I don’t know the heck I’ve written here either.
The next part will probably come out some time during the week, or I’ll just post it next week. Anyway, I hope you like it!
—⁠☆✿☆—⁠
The celebration after the battle should have been a moment of relief for Law. Two Yonko’s had been defeated, thus ending the alliance with the Straw Hats. They had finally accomplished the initial goal of the alliance, and yet Law found it hard to join in on the festivities. His mind was occupied by the tension between you and him. He had tried to approach you several times during the night, only to be met with avoidance, and it was driving him to the edge.
Fortunately, he finally managed to corner you at one of the stalls, and pulled you along to a quiet corner. However, the initial determination that he had felt before talking to you, instantly dissipated at your words.
"Your alliance with the Straw Hats is over. That means you won't be sailing with them any longer." You paused, taking a breath as if gathering the strength to continue, and Law felt a sense of dread wash over him as he braced himself for your next words. "And since I'm onboard their ship, that means we won't be sailing together any longer."
The words hit Law like a punch to the gut—something he had dreaded but always feared would come. However, hearing it aloud was an entirely different matter. The whole reason he had wanted to talk to you was to sort things out, and then gather the courage to ask you to join his crew. He had always hoped that maybe a part of you would have liked to come with him. Now, that hope was shattered.
As you continued, Law watched you avoid his gaze, clearly struggling with your own emotions. His mind raced. He knew you were wrong, that his feelings for you went beyond mere protectiveness. But his words came out in a jumbled rush. "(Y/N)-ya, that's—that's not what I meant—"
You cut him off, shaking your head firmly, and with your final words to him turned and left. Law clenched his fists, frustration and helplessness bubbling inside him. He watched as you walked away, each step feeling like a knife twisting deeper into his heart. He wanted to call out to you, to stop you, but the words were stuck in his throat.
That night, Law found no peace. He wandered the festival with his crew in a daze, his mind replaying your conversation over and over. The celebrations around him felt like a cruel joke, a stark contrast to the turmoil within him. You had said that maybe you would meet in the future, but Law knew that in this line of work, it was very unlikely. The thought of this being the last time he saw you shook him to the core, and he was desparate to do something about it. But what could he do? You had already made up your mind.
_____________________________________________
As Law exchanged “farewells” with Luffy and Kid, he stole a glance at the Thousand Sunny, hoping to see you. But you were already inside the ship, likely avoiding him, or so he assumed. As he boarded his own ship, Bepo approached him, worry plastered across his face, "Captain are you sure we're ready to leave? You said you wouldn't leave without her."
Law gritted his teeth, those hadn't been his exact words when he had told his crew about asking you to join them, but in his heart he knew that was what he meant. Leave it to Bepo, to know exactly what he was thinking.
"Raise the anchor," was all he said as he walked further into the ship.
The Polar Tang set sail, the Thousand Sunny and the Victoria Punk not far from it. As if not already irritated, Eustass' snide remark only seemed to serve as fuel to Law's raging annoyance. Ignoring his crew's protests, Law yanked at the helm, steering the ship towards the very waterfall they had climbed to reach Wano.
While his crew braced for impact, Law stood determined. His thoughts however, drifted to you. Luffy had done the very same thing as him, and just like the Polar Tang, the Thousand Sunny was plunging down the same waterfall. "Strawhat-ya that idiot!" Law muttered under his breath (rather hypocritically). His gaze shifted to the Thousand Sunny, and what he saw left him reeling. In an instant, he summoned a blue orb.
_____________________________________________
You were helping load supplies onto the ship when you heard faint voices come from the harbour below: Kid, Luffy and Law. After your conversation with him at the festival, you had called it an early night and started your morning loading the Sunny to avoid running into him. But now, something urged you to take one last look at Law, to just lean over the railing and catch a glimpse of him. So you did just that.
Law stood next to Luffy, his usual stoic expression in place, except now the dark circles that lined his eyes were all the more prominent. A pang of guilt swept over you, knowing you might be the cause.
"You should go down and say goodbye to him." A voice jolted you away from the railing. Your face flushed when you found Robin standing behind you, a knowing smile on her face as she let out a chuckle. Her eyes sparkled with amusement, making you feel a bit self-conscious.
"What?" you asked, flustered.
"You want to talk to him, don't you?" she said gently, her smile widening as she watched your reaction.
"We already did last night," you muttered, trying to hide your unease. You looked away, focusing on the supplies in front of you.
"A real man would say goodbye to you again," Franky chimed in from behind a stack of crates, and despite yourself, you let out a soft laugh. You went back to your task, trying to push away any thoughts that made you question your decision. But as you lifted another crate, you couldn't help but steal another glance over the railing. Law was walking away from Luffy and to his ship, figure slowly disappearing from your view.
The Thousand Sunny set sail, and you busied yourself with organizing the remaining supplies, lost in thought, and completely unaware of Kid's taunting remarks. It wasn't until you heard Usopp and Chopper pleading with Luffy that you snapped out of it.
"What's going on?" You approached Sanji, who watched the pair desparately try to hold back Luffy from the helm. Before he could respond the roar of water filled your ears, and your heart raced with fear as the ship suddenly plummeted.
Instinctively, you grabbed onto the nearest stable object, which happened to be Sanji. Clinging to him in fear for your life, you left the cook stunned.
Luckily, the Sunny landed safely in the waters below. You sighed in relief as you released Sanji and fell to your knees, desperately trying to catch your breath.
"(Y/N)-chan~," you heard Sanji gleefully call out to you moments later, though his voice sounded almost muffled. The next thing you heard was Sanji cursing at Law. As you looked up to see what was the cause of his irritation, a familiar sensation washed over you - a feeling of displacement. You shut your eyes in fear as you felt nothing beneath you, bracing for impact. But instead of a rough hardwood floor or the cold ocean water, you felt a pair of arms around your waist and back.
You opened your eyes to find yourself aboard the Polar Tang, in Law's arms. His grip was firm, and his eyes held a mix of frustration and desperation. For a moment, you were lost in his intense gaze, but reality quickly set in.
"Tra! Give her back!"
"What are you doing?" you exclaimed, trying to wriggle out of his hold. "You can't just teleport me here!"
Law set you down, his eyes locking onto yours. "I'm not going to let you go with them," he stated firmly, leaving no room for argument. "The Straw Hats don’t understand how your powers work. If you go with them you'll keep hurting yourself, pushing yourself until it's too late." Law's expression hardened. "I won’t let you go," he said, his voice laced with determination.
You took a step back, shaking your head. "This isn't your decision to make. Transport me back to the Sunny," you demanded.
Law remained silent, his eyes never leaving yours. His jaw tightened, and it became clear that he had no intention of complying. Frustration bubbled up inside you. You glanced behind, seeing the Sunny getting farther away.
"Send me back now," you said, your voice resolute, but Law shook his head. "It's too far now. Stay on the Polar Tang."
Not wanting to hear anymore protests, Law turned away, leaving you on the deck, and headed into the sub, instructing his crew to follow. Only Ikkaku stayed behind. She approached you with a somber expression, offering a hug when she saw your tear-filled eyes.
"C'mon, let's get you some tea."
She led you to the kitchen, sitting you down at the table before making a cup of tea. Once it was ready, Ikkaku sat beside you, gently nudging you to get your attention when she noticed you staring blankly at the table.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked noting your pained expression. Her question was enough to break you - opening the flood gates. You buried your head in your hands, trying to hide your tears, but Ikkaku had already noticed, pulling you into another hug as she stroked your back in comfort.
As you clung to her, your shoulders shaking with each sob, the weight of your frustration and helplessness poured out. It wasn't just about being left on the Polar Tang; it was the feeling of having no control, of being swept along by decisions made without you. Ikkaku's steady presence and gentle touch were the only anchors you had in that moment of emotional turbulence. The warmth of her embrace slowly began to calm the storm inside you, bit by bit.
After a while, you managed to pull yourself together, your breathing becoming steadier. Ikkaku didn't rush you, allowing you to take the time you needed. She continued to sit beside you, her hand soothingly rubbing your back.
"Why does he have to make things so difficult," you mumbled, sucking in a breath as you tried to calm yourself.
Ikkaku handed you the steaming cup, her expression sympathetic. "He's just worried about you. But I admit, he should have handled it differently."
Once you had managed to regulate your breathing you took a sip of the tea, the warmth soothing you slightly. "I get that he's worried, but he can't just force me to stay here. It’s not fair."
Ikkaku nodded, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "I know, and I'm sure Law knows too. He just let his feelings cloud his judgment."
You looked down at your cup, your emotions swirling. A silence settled between you, broken only by the soft hum of the submarine.
"Hey, why don't you get some sleep for now. We can figure this out tomorrow," Ikkaku suggested, finally breaking the silence. She hesitated, but added, "Maybe we can find a way to get you back to the Straw Hats," she said with a small smile, and you tried to offer her one as well, feeling a bit of the weight lift off your shoulders, despite knowing that it would probably be months before you saw the Straw Hat pirates again. "Thank you, Ikkaku."
Unbeknownst to you, Law had been listening. After talking to his crew, he had intended to retreat to his quarters to collect his thoughts. However, as he passed by the kitchen he heard the sound of crying, and he couldn't bring himself to walk away, stopping at the door when he recognised your voice alongside Ikkaku’s. He quietly listened to your conversation, and his heart sank when he heard your words, immediately regretting the pain he had caused you.
As footsteps approached the kitchen door, Law swiftly stepped back, attempting to compose himself. He debated leaving but hesitated, knowing you were about to exit. Moments later, you emerged from the kitchen, your eyes red and swollen from tears, and you locked gazes with him.
"(Y/N)-ya," he began, his voice strained with regret, but you cut him off.
"Don't," you said, your voice hoarse. "I don't want to hear it. "
You turned away from him, heading towards your cabin, and Law watched with a heavy heart, tempted to pull you back. But he stopped himself, hoping that if he gave you your space, eventually he could explain himself to you, and you would understand.
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A/N: I hope the next part doesn’t seem too rushed considering it’s the ending :/
taglist: @trafalgardaria @deathsmajestysworld @cottoncandyloverrrr @magnificenttaledreamland @kitsunechan707
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live-fast-pet-frogs · 23 hours
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Apology Tour Thoughs (and prayers)
1. Ok Blitz didn't warn Stolas about the assassination attempt on him but wasn't he like literally in the room when Stella answered the phone to Striker?? Like maybe he didn't think it was about him but I thought that was the whole joke of that scene? Maybe I remember wrong but I'm pretty sure Stolas meant to know about the fact that Stella wanted him offed.
2. Verosika my QUEEN. And honestly mature asf! The way she has these parties to help people move on from Blitz, and the way she seemed genuinely happy to hear that Blitz aknowledged that he is problematic and that he wants to change. Idk if I could be that happy for my toxic exes who weren't even as bad as B.
3. Like many people pointed it out it seems like Blitz is taking all the heat for their mutually toxic situationship and I am not jumping on the "Stolas is an abuser" bandwagon because I don't think he is, he was far from a victim. I don't think saying that VivziePop is coddling him is accurate just yet as there are more episodes left that might address the issue. Let's hope it will. I think somebody else from a powerful position, maybe another not-so-stuck-up Goetia should have a convo with him about his end of harmful behaviour. Because he probably thinks the worst bit of what he did was the transactional part of their relationship and it was very good for him to realize that on his own and rectify the situation but in the case of such a big gap between their social status it is way more complicated. He DID make Blitz feel less than on multiple occasions where he came off as condescending. It was probably not intentional on his part and that's why he doesn't think he did that. So maybe either another imp should call him out on it or a fellow Goetia. Or even Asmodeus as he would know exactly what being in a relationship with an imp is about! Just like a little "FYI, you might not see an issue with saying/doing stuff like this but it's actually super disrespectful for the other person" kind of thing. Just have it addressed.
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strqyr · 2 days
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I think a big thing with Cinder and Mercury in regards to power is how while it does help them in at some point in their life it never actually helped them get what they want and now they are stuck in a place where with Cinder she is constantly chasing after power but with Mercury he is left without anything really so he chooses to stay in a position where he is most comfortable even if that position is actually incredibly uncomfortable it feels a lot safer than the unknown.
Side note I feel Mercury is actually a pretty good depiction of depression in the show in ways depression isn't usually showcased in media like I feel there are a lot of little things that all add to a character that has been pretty depressed for a long time
yeah, mercury's situation actually explains it perfectly: marcus stole his semblance and told him he'd get it back when he got strong -> mercury got strong, but never got his semblance back.
part of him was stolen and there's no clear way for him to get it back, so now he's aimless, sticking with what he knows best, telling himself he's exactly where he's meant to be, but where he is isn't good for him and like you said, it isn't exactly a position he's comfortable in.
and it's. mercury's already been through what i think cinder is going to go through. marcus made a promise that mercury would get his stolen semblance back, but didn't keep it; salem promised cinder power but so far hasn't kept her end of the bargain, and even when she made moves to allow cinder to go after the winter maiden, she sent cinder to the last place penny would be in while sending the hound directly to her. if this parallel is intentional, then i'd bet that when cinder fulfills her end of the bargain—bringing the crown to salem—, she'll quickly learn that her usefulness to salem has run its course, and salem is under no need to help her steal the other maiden powers further.
the only difference between mercury and cinder in this regard is that mercury is the one whose power was stolen, while cinder is the one doing the stealing—which would be an interesting point of conversation between the two, since i don't think cinder knows about mercury's semblance, and man. if cinder has to sneak into vacuo against salem's orders, that'd probably be enough for mercury to connect some threads to his own past, and how salem, just like his father, has no intentions of actually following through with her promise to cinder.
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puppyeared · 7 months
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its so hard to watch time pass when things like careers and assignments exist. what do you mean im supposed to take that seriously
#I have an assignment that was due a week ago and I really really dont want to do it. I have to but i dont want to#im probably making it worse because my brain has built a wall around it so now i can’t do literally anything else until thats done. but#because I don’t want to do it I’m just kinda stuck. turns out this is what they meant when they said emotional regulation is part of#exec dysfunction.. I’ll have a thought like if I get a little bit of it done now i can get it over with. I can just submit something#and then not even 5 minutes later itll be like ugh but I have to draw all the assets out. I have to write things and make spreads ugh#and its just flopping between those two things. i hate it when ppl are like well how much time do you need to work on one thing#because BOY id love to know too. I’d love to know exactly when my brain wants to cooperate with me and work around that but I cant#even my period can’t decide when it wants to punch me in the stomach. which is kinda funny in the grand scheme of things but still#its so weird im just lying on my bed thinking abt all this like damn.. the time will pass anyways no matter what I decide to do.. damn….#if I submit that assignment now and take the L I literally won’t die. it’ll just be a deduction on an assignment nobody will ask me about#I know this but I’m still stressing myself about it so my thoughts aren’t really connecting to my body. weird#maybe its because Im having a hard time looking forward to things. theres definitely a lot I should be living for but I don’t really feel#a strong attachment to it I guess? it’s been like this for a while with holidays and meeting with friends so I just don’t#I kinda figured its because im pretty passionless and its more like passing interest. but it’s not very fun when it feels like I’m going to#be living distraction to distraction for the next 70 years or so lol#idk it kind of feels like slowly bleeding out. which is funny because I actually did experience blood loss this week#had a 30 minute nosebleed and literally could not stand. also it felt like someone was pinching the back of my brain which was interesting#yapping#does this count as vent#vent#Ive just been making an oc carrd and contemplate changing my blog header for the past 3 days honestly
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honeybard · 4 months
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Okay okay I have a few ideas, feel free to do one or a few or all or none!
One of your ocs interacting with a character from bg3, or perhaps one of your dnd podcasts (I think the gotg characters especially would be a fun clash with the high-er fantasy settings). Or maybe a clothes-swap or something like that
One of your first blorbos interacting with your latest blorbo
Your ocs or blorbos re-enacting some kind of famous historical art piece (like The Last Supper or something)
Uh. Something space related
Okay that's less ideas than I thought I had >:\ oops
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(Tavs count as OCs right?) Their name is Briar, they're my begrudgingly nice rogue (heavily influenced by a certain wizard) and regrettably since BG3 will only let you pick 1 companion to romance this is the only way I can live out my Karlach/Tav/Gale dreams
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toastsnaffler · 23 days
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ykw actually I am angry + disappointed w them. I've been pushing how I feel aside and trying to make it my own fault so it's all contained but I think theyve just been mean. and they really should know me better ik I try to pretend I don't expect more from them so I feel less hurt when they do things that upset me but we've been friends for years by this point. like come on.
#just got home and went to put my shit away but my flatmate was in the kitchen and i got suddenly so mad i had to walk back out#not going to do or say anything while im this upset. i need to be a lot calmer before i can even be in the same room as her#like okay. so originally it was just the two of them getting drinks and theyd rather it was just them bc i dont drink. thats cool#it wouldve been difficult for me to join them after work bc travel. and ik theyd done this before just the 2 of them and had fun#i can fully respect that its why i said no and stuck by that decision when she asked again#but to not mention she was taking the day off work and btw i just found out that BOTH of our other old flatmates joined in too#to not mention that they were travelling that entire distance and that it wasnt just drinks it was a whole day out together#thats just mean. why wouldnt you tell me that why did none of them say anything.#and the fact they did the exact same fucking thing last weekend too i didnt know about that at all#like i need to stop trying to justify it. im allowed to feel unwanted and excluded bc thats exactly what theyre doing.#im tired of feeling like other people dont want me around. i know i can be difficult and annoying sometimes. but im really not that bad#and we're meant to be friends!!!!!! like youre supposed to like your friends. and want to spend time with them. or at least i do#and yeah everyones annoying sometimes thats just part of being alive ur supposed to tolerate it if ur friends#im allowed to want to feel like im wanted. im allowed to want ppl to care abt me. that shouldnt be too much to ask for#but the overwhelming message im getting at the moment is they dont want me around. and when i am around them i feel like they dont listen#to me and that they dont really care how i feel unless it directly involves them or theyre responsible for it#i feel like they dont see me as a real person that exists. only a version they have in their heads and they base all their assumptions and#decisions off that version instead of directly communicating with me. and constantly avoid me under the guise of 'giving me space'#when im upset or having a difficult time and most need support from other people. i just feel really unseen#and ik that part of how i feel IS exacerbated by insecurity and depression. like they do care to some degree#but also a lot of it is evidenced in the way they act towards me. mainly my roommate bc shes the person i interact with most#and personally i find the most direct ways of showing u care abt someone are showing up for them. and making them feel seen#and maybe not everyone feels the same way. but thats how it works for me anyway#so to repeatedly exclude me and avoid acknowledging that ive been having a difficult time is the opposite of that to me#which is the point im trying to arrive at... sorry ik ive probably said similar things repeatedly the last few weeks but i feel like its#crystallising a bit like this is the core reason why im so sensitive and reactive atm and why i got so upset by it#idk. not tonight bc im still very emotionally raw but maybe tomorrow if im calmer i should explain that i was upset + why to her#i avoid doing that so often when im upset bc i dont think theres much point in having a conversation abt it unless u expect some kind of#resolution from it. or if you want an apology but idrc abt being apologised to the crucial thing is what theyre going to do different#and i love her but shes very resistant to changing her behaviour bc of other ppl being upset by it. and like i said before she has
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munamania · 8 months
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something that makes me feel guilty is the fact that seeing that persons face rn literally makes me angry. they walked into class and i nearly winced. and in all fairness they were quite kind to me. outside of the several kind of odd red flags. girl whatever. to be quite frank i am a horny bastard and vocal proud etc but few people interest me enough to actually want to hang out with and get to know And i have deep seated intimacy issues so it's like. we really dont have a shot unless the circumstances r exactly right on a full moon perfect thursday of a month etc like. well and tbh i probably would have fucked around with this person but i dont... care... about some big relationship w them.. and i know i could be a relationship girl like eventually i have it in me to have a muse that's what im built for i think idc but not rn... rn i need to hang out with my friends and do my film stuff and have people that maybe wanna make out sometimes is that so much to ask for. for a lesbian at a bar to want to make out perhaps. ** for there to be lesbians at the bars to potentially make out with.
#and i am quite lonely yes thank u for asking. yeah someday id love to get to know someone again in the context of falling in love#what about it. so what now. i dont think im meant for our understanding of romantic love but boy do i crave it#why am i having this moment rn. well ok consider im on my period all i could think about this morning was [redacted] and both parties#of my dyke drama were back in class today. and the one gay person that i think has a crush on me but we dont see each other super often#so im just. guessing based on the way awkward lesbians communicate. idk#and i feel really just mean but i quite literally dont have it in me to pretend to be nice to this person anymore#i wasnt like. some villain for realizing we were acting really coupley and being like oh shit because i didnt want to hurt them#. and trying to communicate and put some distance between us when i thought they were probably in too deep. it's unfortch it took me a sec#but jesus christ yk i cant walk around and feel awkward about it forever. and im frustrated by the fact that we're just acting so odd#but again frankly i think it's largely bc they have an unhealthy relationship with dating. THROWING HORIZONTAL PUNCHES HERE.#OK. STONES FROM A GLASS HOUSE. IM AWARE. REAL RECOGNIZES REAL.#and YET. despite my past insanity. ive been kind. i can understand disappointment and a little awkwardness#but jesus would you rather i pretend to be in love with you for months and then really break your heart.#this is where i get mean and make a joke like well hey if we couldve had weird really mediocre sad angry dyke sex abt it#that would have been cool with me. but alas. we're here instead and it's fucking with my friendships too#and like we were kind of ok friends too. what now. its just u me and this brick wall u built between us bitch#now was EYE not answering texts for a minute. we dont need to get into it.#because the thing IS if i dont play things exactly right. and im not good at that without prior planning. i will accidentally say or do#something that i know. again. from being insane myself. would be just enough for them to hold onto hope#and im not trying to do that to them you know. i was trying to help with the detachment. shitty as it may be. i dont fucking know dude#this post is going to make me look kind of. well. whatever u guys have seen me at my worst. mostly. and post#ok one last thing sorry if this makes me sound like i have a giant ego. like wow heres this person who really liked me and im just shitting#all over them. not what im meaning to do but whatever
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cicadaland · 9 months
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the brain is very interesting also I just procrastinated for like five hours at least I sort of got half of the outline done on this essay but man this day really sucked I hope tomorrow is a lot better. I feel awful it's already going to be two days late and I don't even know if he accepts late work PLUS there's other late work I have to finish tomorrow and Thursdays are such busy days for me. I seriously need to log off but then I'd get distracted by like the wikipedia talk page for the article on the Haudenosaunee like I did last night
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tonycries · 3 months
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Great With Kids? (You Can Have Mine) - C.K.
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Synopsis. When your younger brother gets a new babysitter, only two questions linger on your mind: 1. How come your parents didn’t trust you in charge? 2. How dare the sexy babysitter be so perfect - it made you want some attention too.
Pairings. Choso Kamo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, babysitter! Choso, male masturbation, voyeurism (from reader), Choso with nipple piercings and eyeliner hngh, unprotected, 69, choking, overstim, oral (male + female receiving), creampie, dirty talk, friends-to-lovers, Choso is down BAD and always has been, mentioned younger brother, swearing. 
Word count. 9.0k
A/N. Gojo longfic next time because I miss my pretty blue-eyed princess.
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Your younger brother’s new babysitter was hot.
With a capital h. 
Scarily hot, in fact, that it made you wonder why the hell people stopped having babysitters past the age of 14.
Ah, Choso Kamo, the ever-elusive eldest son of the Itadori’s from next door. You still remember the first time you met him - well, mostly. 
The world was rocking gently at exactly 12:34AM after a night out with your old high school friends. And so were you, stumbling tipsily into your driveway, soaking up the warm summer air. 
Fumbling with the doorbell, you fully expected your parents to still be away on that extravagant couples’ cruise they’d won - one that probably cost more than your tuition.
Which also meant you expected the old lady from down the street to be babysitting tonight. Still wide awake and absolutely bursting at the seams to give you a detailed rundown about the neighborhood tea - who’s divorcing who, and her top suspects for who stole her prized garden gnome. 
What you certainly did not expect was for that door to swing open and to find yourself face-to-face with the most ridiculously attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on. Shirtless.
Dazed, your eyes involuntarily sweep his figure from head to toe - taking in every inch of those dark, sleep-mussed locks falling effortlessly around his slightly smudged eyeliner, all the way down to the chiseled- oh god, were those nipple piercings?
Alas, the universe isn’t on your side, and you don’t get to confirm, because suddenly the door slams right in your face, almost rattling off its hinges at the force. The sound echoes in your ears as you blink in disbelief at what the fuck that was. Was that real - was he real? 
You double check the address you’ve known for years - just in case - because, hell, if you were dreaming then this was a damn good one. Taking a deep breath, you try to focus on something that won’t make your head spin before reaching for the door again.
But before your finger could even graze the doorbell, it cracks open once more. The same mysterious man towered before you, this time - you note, with a tinge of disappointment - wearing a snug t-shirt that still doesn’t do much to hide that godly physique. 
“Not that m’complaining, but who’re you and why’re ya in my house?” you manage to slur out, voice betraying the shiver that runs down your spine at his intense gaze. He simply leans against the doorframe, arms crossed and expression unreadable. 
“Choso,” he drawls lightly, eyes never leaving your face. Shit, even his voice was hot. 
You nod slowly, mind racing as you blearily try to remember just where you’d heard that name before. Some family friend? Nah, you’d know him if that was the case. An actor? God, he sure had the looks. 
Mercifully sensing your struggle, he clears his throat, snapping you out of your drunken reverie. “Not surprised you haven’t seen me around, sweetheart, but my parents live next door.” he offers, tone laced with amusement and something else you can’t place. “M’babysitting your brother for tonight.”
You almost don’t hear the second part of his explanation, because it hits you like a ton of bricks - oh shit, this was Choso? Choso either-a-hallucination-or-a-vampire Kamo? 
In all your years of having the Itadoris as your neighbors, you’d only seen fleeting glimpses of their eldest son - a flash of black hair at the window, or a sculpted, tattooed arm waving off Yuji at the doorway. And, well, you didn’t know what exactly you’d anticipated. You just didn’t expect him to be so…hot. Or stand half-naked in front of you.
God, he made you more dizzy than the alcohol. 
“Damn,” you mutter under your breath, more to yourself than anything. Yet Choso still hears, quirking an eyebrow, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Everything alright there?” he hums, the hint of a tease in his tone. Smug bastard.
You nod your head, clutching onto the doorframe for support as you lean in closer. “Mhm, perfect.” Wait- was that a blush dusting his face? Damn, this dream just keeps getting better and better.
Liquid courage coursing through you, you bat your lashes, too tipsy to even attempt a wink, “Well, Choso, let me know if ya need any help babysitting, jus’ know I’m always down to-” 
And then - perhaps to save you from the embarrassment of an awful pickup line - that’s when the universe decides to remind you of exactly how many kamikaze shots you’ve downed. The world lurches beneath you. Your hands scramble for something - anything - solid.
Ah, falling down really does feel good, especially when the ground is so warm, and soft. Smelling faintly of vanilla, with a hint of sunshine. 
And then it’s all black. 
To match his eyes.
---
The smell of vanilla still lingers in your mind as you slowly pry your eyes open, squinting against the harsh morning sunlight streaming in through your window. Groaning, you feel as though you’ve been run over by a truck. Five of them, in fact. 
Trying to will away the pounding headache, you bury yourself deeper into the snug covers of…your bed…that you’ve been tucked into? 
Oh shit. Sitting up with a gasp, you hastily try to rub away the sleep from your pointedly makeup-less eyes, remnants of last night now flooding back to you with a surge of embarrassment. 
Choso. Shirtless. Babysitting. Shirtless. But most importantly - your awful display of drunken flirting. The man appears once in a blue moon and you hit on him? Perfect. Great. Wonderful. 
And just as you’re entertaining the idea of convincing your parents to move neighborhoods, you realize with a jolt that he must’ve been the one that carried you up here and took care of you. Even after all of that. 
With a sigh, you rub your temples, wincing as it throbs at the laughter carrying from downstairs - one of them so decidedly Choso. Deep voice ringing in your ears, you can almost feel the lingering traces of his strong arms holding you flush against his chest, or the warm hands gently wiping off your eye shadow.
And it seems Choso had a penchant for interrupting your barely-lucid thoughts, because the door creaks open, ripping through the heavy silence in your room. Heart in your throat, you startle as Choso carefully steps into your room, a soft smile playing on his lips.
“G’morning,” he says, voice so gentle that some small, strange part of you thinks you could listen to it forever. “Feeling any better?”
You offer him a sheepish grin, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks at the memory of your drunken antics. “Yeah, I think so. Thanks for... well, everything.”
Chuckling softly, his gaze softens as he steps closer, taking in your slightly-disheveled appearance. “It was the least I could do, sweetheart. Now, c’mon, your brother and I are making pancakes.” 
You fidget nervously under his gaze, suddenly feeling self-conscious even as he turns to leave the room at your silence. Say it, you idiot. Say it. 
“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, words tumbling out in a rush. “I didn’t mean to... y’know, act like a Victorian man seeing a woman’s ankles for the first time-” 
“It’s al-”
 “I swear I’ve seen ankles-”
A large hand cradling your cheek, his thick rings searingly cold against your chin as he tilts your chin up to meet his warm gaze - and those suspiciously red cheeks. “S’alright, sweetheart. I didn’t mind.” 
And, well, if this was his way of shutting you up then by God was it effective. Because you didn’t trust yourself to speak even as Choso gives you an easy smile. Even as he withdraws his hand, the air thick with something you were too hungover to overthink about. 
Not until he turns back to the door, flashing you a teasing smile, “Besides, it was kinda cute.”
And with that, Choso steps through the door with the audacity of someone that hadn’t uttered words that sent your mind reeling. 
As the creak of the door echoes behind him, Choso’s warm touch still sears into your skin. Something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach. Only one thought rings clear in your hazy, still-hungover mind - one that makes your cheeks flare: this was going to be a very interesting summer.
You just didn’t realize how interesting it would be. Not until two weeks, four days, and sixteen hours after you first met Choso. 
It starts out innocently enough, taking the early shift at your internship, volunteering to help with the chores - you find yourself subconsciously making excuses to be around him whenever he’s scheduled to babysit.
You’ve probably learned everything there is to know about the man by now - from the way he likes his eggs (sunny side up) to that time he accidentally dyed his brother’s hair neon pink while trying out a recipe for homemade hair dye. 
Likewise, Choso happens to be the only one who knows that you were the one that accidentally caused that flood in your dorm that required five floors and two plumbers to resolve. 
At this point, Choso’s at your house more often than not - where Choso is, there is you, and where you are, there is Choso. And your brother…and sometimes Yuji, but semantics.
“Semantics” are probably why you find yourself rushing home straight from your internship, ignoring every invitation for an after-work drink - to see your brother, of course. No other reason - definitely not because of the way Choso will inevitably be there too. Or because of the way his smile makes something strange coil in your stomach. Or-
Okay, maybe you speedwalked up your driveway faster than usual a little bit because of Choso. But as you’ve said - semantics.
Yet, sometimes you even think there’s a familiar flicker of something more in those dark eyes.
Nahhh. 
Stepping into the yard, the air thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and the deafening sounds of splashing, a smile tugs at your lips at the awfully wholesome view that greets you.
Your brother and Yuji are locked in a fierce battle, water guns being brandished like the most seasoned warriors.
And Choso - towering over everyone else - was at the epicenter of the chaos, his laughter booming over the commotion. Shirtless. Again. 
His bare, tattooed torso gleams in the light, muscles flexing with each movement as if sculpted by the gods themselves. Droplets of water glistening on his dark hair like diamonds in the fading light.
Traitorously, your cheeks burn as you step closer, desperately trying to rip your gaze from the milky abs peeking out and the tantalizing glint of metal winking so sinfully at you under the sun.
So he does have nipple piercings.
God, you have to get your mind out of the gutter.
As you approach, Choso’s grin widens, a playful sparkle dancing in his eyes. Without hesitation, he scoops up a large water balloon and takes aim, launching it with frightening accuracy in your direction.
The icy water hits you before the realization, and you squeal in surprise as the balloon connects right with your chest, seeping into your shirt. Glancing down with a startled laugh, you realize a moment too late that your once-pristine white shirt is now completely see-through. 
Heat rushes to your cheeks, but the damage has been done. Smug bastard, you think, glancing up at Choso, slightly red-faced yet wearing a sly grin as he surveys the aftermath of his well-aimed shot.
“Shoulda just told me if you wanted a peak, you lecher. This shirt was expensive, y’know.” you call out, mock-glaring at the man that stood so infuriatingly beautifully in front of you.
Choso throws his head back in a laugh that makes something tingle all the way down from your toes to your burning cheeks. “Maybe you shoulda just kept your guard up, sweetheart,” 
You scoff, “Maybe you should stop being a distraction then.”
His grin widens, reaching for another nearby water balloon, “S’not my fault you’re so easily distracted. No need to be a sore loser.”
“Oh, it’s on now.”
“Well, well, looks like we have a new contender in the water war,” Choso remarks mischievously to the kids, gesturing towards you. Yeah, really smug bastard.
Ah, what the hell. This shirt was on sale anyway.
---
Now, Choso knows you’re hot - always has.
Ever since that first day he moved in next door, when he stumbled upon you sunbathing in your backyard wearing that sinful bikini. And, well, after hours of moving boxes upon boxes of Yuji’s dumbbells, the mere sight of you was like the gates of heaven spread wide open for him. 
But, especially now - all drenched and disheveled. Your shirt sticking to your curves like a second skin in all the ways that should be illegal - and also makes some strange part of him slightly jealous. Beaming smile directed right at him - shit, this might as well just be the final nail on his coffin. Death by you.
Amidst the chaos and confusion, you're a force to be reckoned with. Choso can barely tear his eyes off of you, breathless and victorious in pure adrenaline-fueled bravado, declaring “Beg for mercy and I’ll let you off easy, Choso.”
“Kinky, but absolutely not, sweetheart.”
Clutching a particularly large water balloon, raising your hand high high high - hurtling it straight at him with an unapologetic smirk, “Then, better run for your life.”
Oh? Maybe Choso was a masochi- what was that- 
A flash of his favorite lacy pink, your poor buttons faltering at the sheer force of your throw. Choso doesn’t even feel the cold splash! square on his chest as he’s drenched icily from head to toe. Too transfixed.
Too focused on trying not to make it obvious he’s mentally calculating the chances of your shirt coming off altogether…
Eyes locked on the sliver of soft skin peeking out at him. Only registering you and the traitorous rush of heat flooding his cheeks - and his cock - as he averts his gaze, internally smacking himself for letting his thoughts wander into such dangerous territory. 
Both thanking and cursing the gods above, Choso realizes with a pang that he’s not just screwed, he’s absolutely twisted, tangled, and tied up in knots.
So utterly screwed, in fact, that he probably needs to make a quick run to the bathroom now.
Like, right now.
Shit. 
With a muttered excuse of a bathroom break, each step more urgent than the last, Choso can’t help but wonder if the water balloon incident was some sort of cosmic punishment for his wandering thoughts. Some divine intervention from his ancestors for being such a pussy around you all these years.
And as he slams that bathroom door closed, bunches his pants bunched underneath his heavy balls, and takes his throbbing cock in his hands, Choso thinks he might just see the gates of heaven - well, at least he’ll be able to give his ancestors a piece of his mind there.
With a groan, he leans against the closed door, eyes scrunching shut as he takes his swollen cock in his fist. Leaking hot precum and glistening in the dim bathroom light. He grips the base tightly, pulsing and achingly hard for you. 
Cold rings searing against his skin, Choso wastes no time - wanting to get this over with and join you again more than anything - starting up a hasty, desperate pace up and down his length that makes his knees buckle. Tighter on the base, just teasing his furiously flushed tip. Pink. Pink to match your bra.
With you so sinfully soaked through, wearing that goddamn lacy bra out there, Choso wasn’t as strong a man to possibly get you out of his mind. He can’t help but imagine your sultry smile, how it would look wrapped around his cock. 
Arm straining now, a shiver runs down his spine - all the way to his throbbing erection. “Shit.” he breathes, “J-jus’ like that, sweetheart.” 
Head only filled with you, and your lips and you-
He milks his base tighter - would you take him all in one go? Look up at him with those beautiful, teary eyes as you choke around his cock? 
One hand pulls in urgent, jerky little moves that have his hips bucking into his fist. The other reaches up muffle the fucked out moans leaving his swollen lips. God, it would take everything it had in him to not fuck up into your pretty lil’ mouth. Watch you cock-drunk and taking him so well. 
Or maybe…
Eyes rolling to the back of his head, Choso fights back a groan as he reaches a hand up to teasingly thumb under his slit. Delicate beads of precum dripping onto the cold tile with a deafening drip! drip! drip! Smearing at the way he rubs maddening little circles under that one spot, grazing his sensitive veins. 
Maybe you’d be a a fucking tease - run your tongue under his pulsing head so agonizingly slow. Knowing you, you’d probably pull away as soon as he bucks his hips into your mouth. Lips swollen and glossed prettily with his precum as you whisper, “Now now, baby. If you don’t act like a good boy then you won’t get to cum~”
“Sh-shit, hah-” Choso thinks he’s going insane, he can practically hear your hums as you kiss along his length, tongue darting out to trace his throbbing veins so obscenely. Flicking at his sensitive head. Eyes sparkling - ready to positively devour him. 
All for him. 
It’s too much. 
“Ah- Ngh, fuck.” he moans hoarsely, letting out a low, fucked-out little call of your name. “More. Need m-more, sweetheart.” 
Body shuddering violently, sweat dripping from his brow, Choso’s thighs quiver as he fucks his fist at an almost-animalistic pace. Chasing his release with reckless abandon. 
Choso’s heart pounds wildly in his chest as he tries - and fails - to maintain control. Raspy whines of your name escape through the crevices of his fingers, cracking ever-so-slightly in a way he knows he’d be embarrassed about if he was in a better state of mind. 
Giving up his futile attempt, long fingers snake down below to cradle his balls in a way he knows you’d do better. Tugging and pulling at a jerky rhythm that matches his hand. 
Some tiny, practical part of his brain hopes - prays - that you won’t call off the water fight early and come up to check on him. He knows he should hurry up, he knows he’s fucked if you ever found out. Shit, he should bake you apology cookies tomorrow.
But fuck are so you perfect for him. Voice so pretty and eyes so warm as you turn your gaze to his undeserving self. He’d kill to see if you still look at him that way when - if - he absolutely ruins you.
Would you be able to take all of him? Would you pout adorably until he shoves his dick down your throat? Gagging as he hits the back of your throat over and over - oh how Choso would love to mess up your mascara. He’d fucking tattoo your lipstick stains on his dick if he could. 
“Cum f’me, baby.” you’d mewl, and shit would he burn down this entire world to hear you call him that. “Mm, fill me up with your cum, wan’ taste you, baby-”
“Fuck,” he curses again, voice thick with need, and tight balls twitching so sensitively. “Fuck...fuck fuck fuck. M’gonna cum- shit- gonna cum, sweetheart.”
You - all see-through white shirts and lacy bras that drive him wild. Giggling with the audacity of someone who isn’t making him slowly lose his sanity. You with prettily lips painted white with his seed. Cum and saliva mixing into a lewd pool on the sterile tile as you suck the soul out of him. 
You. 
And then he’s cumming. 
A raw, drawled-out keen of your name and he’s spilling into his fist. Thick, hot spurts of cum that paint his palms white in a way he wishes he could do to you. And behind his closed eyes all he sees is you - you you you-
You, dragging out his orgasm so torturously, lips decorated with his seed, dribbling down to your lacy pink bra, gushing so lewdly down your ready throat. You with your eyes dazed, lips swollen and quirking up into a fucked-out smile as he does so well for you - cumming, all for you.
You, with your wide eyes and disgust on your face as you realize just what he’d been doing on this suspiciously long “bathroom break”.
Shit.
Body still twitching with the shockwaves of probably one of the Top 5 orgasms of his life, Choso all but collapses against the bathroom door, panting heavily, utterly spent. For a moment, he lies there, wondering if this is what heaven truly felt like.
But as the euphoria of his high ebbs away into nothing but mere tingles, a slight wave of nausea crashes over him. 
Sighing, Choso reaches for the paper towels, ready to clean up his mess. If only you were there to milk him dry then he wouldn’t have to-
God, he was definitely baking you apology cookies tomorrow. 
Now, when it started drizzling shortly after Choso left, you took it upon yourself to usher the kids back home and hand over his t-shirt personally like the good samaritan you are - out of the goodness of your heart, of course. 
Not for any reason whatsoever because you were hoping to get at least one more glimpse of those sinful nipple piercings up-close.
Okay, perhaps there was a slight ulterior motive involved. 
Either way, what you’d expected was for a flash of silver as you handed over his drenched t-shirt. Or maybe that familiar easy smile to warm you up from the icy water.
Literally anything but to find yourself frozen outside the bathroom door, cunt dripping, and ears ringing with the muffled echoes of his pornographic groans.
At first, completely mortified, your fight or flight instinct had kicked in as you realized just what those rhythmic, fucked-out little grunts meant. Only for you to choose neither option - staying rooted to your spot with the utterance of one, simple, word - your name.
Confusion whirls in your mind almost as much as the throbbing in your cunt, knees weakening. Heart thumping louder and louder in your ears at each whine of your name. Shivers running down your spine - all the way to your wet cunt as it really sets in that this was Choso. And he was fucking his fist in your bathroom. To you.
And you didn’t mind?
In fact, you find yourself leaning against the door, thighs squeezing together - mere inches away from where you imagined him slumped against it. Soft strands sticking to his forehead, cock hot and heavy, aching for release. Ragged breathing as if caught off guard by the intensity of his own pleasure. Broken whispers of your name leaving him over and over-
Really, you know you should give him your privacy. But if the white-hot ropes of pleasure running up your spine are anything to go by then, well, is it really that bad?
You have half the mind to just reach down down down - just a little release. Almost jealous of Choso-
Click!
You’re sure you could rival Usain Bolt with the way you ran down those stairs. Cheeks flaring, his damp t-shirt still clutched tightly in your hand. Mind racing with only one thought - this little fuck wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.
---
You can barely remember what transpired after your little discovery. You couldn’t decide who looked more dazed - you or Yuji, who was being practically dragged out that front door as Choso exited hastily with vague mentions of baking and cookies
And in the ringing silence that followed after that front door slammed, you couldn’t help the smirk that found itself onto your face. This was going to be fun.
But if there’s anything you’ve learned about Choso - it’s that even after twenty-something years on planet Earth, that man can not take a hint.
You somewhat had an inkling after the fifth time you decided to sunbathe in just a skimpy bikini at exactly when you knew he’d be watching. Well, you might not have gotten any reaction other than an extremely flushed face at the window, but at least you knew he’d have more very fun bathroom breaks.
Hell, one time you even bought ice lollies for the whole house - but especially Choso. Making sure those dark eyes followed every lick and trail of it dripping down your fingers under the scorching summer sun. Ultimately resulting in nothing more but a heavy gulp and for his ice lolly to hit the grass faster than it could even begin to melt. 
Ugh, should you get your brother to start another water fight? That went down well last time. 
It’s only after another failed attempt at trying to get him alone and a few hours of deliberating whether you should ship your interrupting brother off on a cruise too that you realize you have to get out the big guns.
“The big guns” being stealthily organizing a sleepover for your brother at the Itadoris, then inviting Choso over for a movie night. Simple, right? And, well, if anyone asked, you could just say the movie just so happened to be rated R. 
It wasn’t too hard to convince your brother that a sleepover with Yuji would be the best thing since sliced bread. The excitement in his voice palpable as he agreed, not suspecting a thing.
You just didn’t think it would be even easier to convince Choso to come over with a simple playful text of “Netflix no chill. Haha jk…unless?” But then again, when has Choso not surprised you?
And that night, as your brother eagerly headed off to Yuji’s place, you couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of guilt - but, hey, it was for a good cause, right? 
It’s a win-win either way - your brother gets to spend the night with a friend and you get to be here, so achingly close to Choso on that couch. So close that you could feel the heat radiating off of him, stealing glances at his sharp profile as the conversation flows easily about the movie playing on screen.
Shifting ever-so-slightly closer, electricity crackling between you two was palpable. You smile in anticipation, after all - you weren’t lying about the movie being rated R.
Now, Choso certainly didn’t come over to your house tonight expecting a wholesome rerun of Cars 2. However, he also wasn’t expecting the blockbuster action movie to suddenly unfold into something so steamy.
Goddamn lecherous directors and their goddamn pervy movies.
Eyes firmly trained on the ground, instead of the actress currently fake-moaning dramatically onscreen, Choso tries to ignore the subtle shift of your hips or the way the temperature in the room has currently increased by about 10 degrees. Or the way your moans would sound a million times prettier in his ears.
Alas, Choso was not a strong man, and he especially tries to will away the blood rushing straight to his cock right now - but how could he? You were such a vision of temptation, so close and warm and close to him on the couch.
This was absolute torture. 
“God, this is so painfully fake. Don’t you think so?” your voice rips through the deafening silence between you two, tone careful and balanced, startling Choso out of his little reverie.
His eyes flicker hastily to meet yours, and for a moment, he seems caught off guard by your sudden interruption. “Oh, yeah.” voice rough with a hint of nervousness. “I’ve seen better performances in middle school plays.”
You nod, the tension between you thickening as you lock eyes. “I mean, who even writes this stuff?” you continue, leaning in even closer to Choso, words positively dripping in sarcasm. “It’s like they’ve never actually had sex before.”
Choso lets out a shaky laugh, the sound strained as he shifts subtly in his seat - but not subtly enough. Because you catch the way he desperately tries to adjust his now-uncomfortably tight pants. Success. 
“Yeah, exactly,” he clears his throat, ripping his gaze away from yours.
You study him for a moment under the dim lighting, noting the way his hands clench and unclench in his lap, the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he struggles to control his breathing. He was nervous. Nervous and horny - exactly where you wanted him. 
A sudden rush of adrenaline courses through your veins, and you lean even closer to the man. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two - you relish in his strangled gasp as your tits press so enticingly against his arm. 
“Choso, just a thought.” you hum casually, lips mere inches from his ear. “Wanna recreate the scene better?”
His breath hitches at your words, muscles rippling so deliciously beneath your touch. “Do you know what you’re saying?” he rumbles, lowly. Eyes darkened and unreadable.
You smile, heart pounding against your chest as your lips brush against his earlobe. “Absolutely.”
It was like something snapped.
Because then he’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him. Because goddammit you haven’t spent the last month sneaking glances at those pretty lips for nothing.
Movie completely forgotten, Choso is warm under your touch - all sculpted chest and urgent pulses as his lips kiss you dizzyingly. Groaning lowly as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.
He breathes you in with an infectious desperation that bleeds into his hands, wandering every inch of your skin - as if he didn’t have enough time. And he probably didn’t. Distantly, Choso thinks that no time in the world would be enough to absolutely fucking wreck you the way he wanted to.
Large, hurried hands grope your chest, squeezing so teasingly in a way that almost made you think he was trying to feel out what bra you were wearing - lacy pink. His favorite, of course.
You minx.
Urgently tugging the hem of your tight shirt over your arms, Choso tosses it god-knows-where. Mouth watering as he pulls away to greedily take in the heavenly view of your heaving chest - the same one he’s shamelessly fucked his fist to for too long.
God, you were perfect. With a soft, little oh! Choso leans down to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses on every bit of exposed skin he could reach. Nipping, and tugging lightly. Relishing in the way you whine for his lips again.
Threading a hand through his soft hair, you lightly pull him back to you. Breath fanning his face, lips ghosting over his own.
“Kiss me, you fool.”
And, well, Choso didn’t have to be asked twice. Molding his mouth against yours once more. Letting your lips part, you intertwine your tongue so sinfully with his. He tastes just like he looks - so intoxicatingly delicious.
With a breathy sigh, he lightly taps the curve of your ass. Hands lingering for far longer than necessary, kneading the flesh in a way that has your skin searing. 
You get the signal. Urgently, you loop your legs around his waist. “Choso- bed.” you whisper, muffled in-between kisses. “Now.”
Shivers run down your spine at the way he chuckles darkly, “Honestly, sweetheart. I don’t even hah- know if we’ll make it there.” Mumbling against your lips, “Would you kill me if I take you right here right now?”
“I’ll kill you if you don’t fucking do something.” you hiss, words dripping in desperation. Ah, but Choso, ever the merciful man, shuts up whatever other retort on the tip of your tongue with his own. Kissing you with almost-bruising intensity as he gets up from his seat. Strong arms securely wrapped underneath you, holding you flush against his warm skin.
Choso doesn’t pull away even once as he hastily makes the route to your room. And honestly, with the speed at which your back hits the soft mattress, bouncing at the sheer force at which you two fell on top, you wouldn’t even be surprised if he teleported there.
Now safely in the confines of your room, you all but rip off Choso’s snug t-shirt. Those familiar obscene nipple piercings winking at you under the dim lighting in greeting. 
“Always wanted to do this.” you murmur, surging forward as if on autopilot. Lips latching delicately onto the pretty pink nipples, tasting the cold metal on your tongue. 
“Oh- oh, fuck. A-always knew you had a thing hah- f’my piercings, sweetheart.” Choso breathes out, letting you have your fun. His favorite bra now at the foot of your bed. Fingers deftly sneaking under your skirt, blood rushes straight to his cock as he feels the positively soaked state of your panties - if you could even call them that. 
Sanity snapping, he immediately flings off your skirt. Throwing it somewhere across the room with no care or concern for where it ends up. All so he could look down at oh-
Oh god, if you had to describe Choso’s face as he takes in the sight before him - it would be absolutely losing his sanity. Your pussy dripping and clenching around nothing - all for him.
Strings of slick trail down your thighs as Choso hooks one, long finger under your slutty g-string, tugging impatiently.
You keen as the cold air hits your dripping cunt. Yet Choso’s eyes stay locked hungrily on the sticky fabric intertwined around his fingers “Guess you were expecting this, huh?” he murmurs, voice thick with desire. 
Scoffing, you buck your hips up for something - anything. “I’ve been wanting to fuck you since that first night I hit on you, y’know,” you admit, the heady air of your room melting away any reservations you had previously. 
And that seems to snap Choso out of his trance - eyes flickering over to you, darkened with something so carnal that it makes your cunt throb. “Oh yeah?” he mumbles, swiftly stuffing the g-string in his pocket before leaning down, hot breath hitting your ear. “Now, what was that pick-up line you were gonna say that night?” 
You gasp in embarrassment, heat flooding to your cheeks at the memory. “Wha- that doesn’t matter. I was drunk and-”
Smack!
The delicious sting on your ass hits you before the realization that Choso smacked you. He smacked you. Even later do you realize that you like it - slick beading so obscenely at your sloppy hole.
“What was it, sweetheart?”
You shudder at the tone that leaves no room for argument. The words tumbling out of you as Choso caresses soothingly over the handprint on your ass. “I- it’s stupid. I was gonna say that I’m down to sit on your face, baby.”
“Thought so,” he grins, pulling away from the dizzying proximity. Shifting - well, more like manhandling - you to flip positions. 
God, you could almost sink into his muscles as he lays back on your bed. Voice low and dangerous as he utters words that go straight to your dripping pussy, “Now, sit on m’face.”
And before you know it, you find yourself hastily straddling Choso’s pretty face. Hands snaking down his milky abs, lips kissing along his tattoos, catching purposefully on his sensitive nipples. 
Warm breath fanning your quivering cunt, he reaches up to cup your ass, nudging your needy core to his mouth. Kneading. Groping. 
Not stopping his ministrations even when your slick oozes slowly, torturously through your swollen folds and onto his awaiting tongue. A maddening drip! drip! drip! ringing in your ears above your thundering heartbeat.
Choso groans at the mouthwatering sight above him. You - spread so shamefully open for him and clenching around nothing. 
“Luckily for you, sweetheart, wanted you to sit on m’face ever since I saw you.” sweet juices flowing down his throat, words muffled against your throbbing lips. 
He barely even gets the words out before he’s surging forward. Licking a long, languid stripe up your heated folds. Again. And again. Faster at the pretty moans that spill from your lips.
Pushing his tongue in between your slit, past that first, tight ring of muscle. Bullying it deeper and deeper. Chin pressing against your throbbing clit, ravaged at each movement of his face. 
He caresses your warm walls, relishing so filthily at the way you clamp down on him in surprise. “Hngh- oh shit, baby. Ah-”
Your sweet moans are music in his ears and shit - you called him “baby”. It’s as if every wet dream he’s ever had has come to life as Choso dips in and out at a ruthless pace. Pulling out to tease your dripping entrance, pushing past mercilessly into your plushy walls. In and out in and out in and out-
His cock strains so painfully against his pants at the way your sloppy hole sucks his tongue in so obscenely - almost as if it hurts to part. Tongue fucking you the way he wishes he could with his cock right now.
“Oh- Hah- Choso! Fuck, baby. S’good.” your body arches into his absolutely depraved tongue. 
Desperate whines spilling incessantly from your mouth at the way he quirks his tongue up just right to graze that spot he knew would have you grinding down on him for more. “Ah! Right there - jus’ like that!”
As if he knew exactly how to drive you wild. Exactly how to break you. You almost don’t notice the mindless, shallow little thrusts of his hips into your open palm. Almost.
Eyes snapping open at the tremors, you reach a hand across his quivering thighs. All the way down towards the very obvious dark patch on his pants - right where his furiously hard tip was leaking thick, relentless precum that made your mouth water. 
Oh, how you’d kill to taste him - see if the rest of him is as intoxicating as his mouth is.
So you do. 
Choso was so pussy-drunk in-between your thighs that you think he barely notices the way you fumble with his belt. Shakily pulling those pants down just enough to glimpse the rock-hard erection that those boxers do nothing to hide. 
“Shit,” you whisper, voice strained with need. 
You always imagined Choso had a big cock - but this was ridiculous. Your pussy clenches in both nervousness and anticipation as you imagined the delicious stretch of him splitting you apart on it. Breaking you. 
And that’s probably when Choso notices - you clamping down so filthily on his tongue. 
“Oh?” he rasps, voice sending white-hot vibrations of pleasure right up your spine. “Didn’t think you were so desperate for my cock, sweetheart. Gon’ make me cum, hm?”
Now, you’ve always thought of yourself as a woman of action rather than empty words. Which is probably why you urgently pull down his boxers. Choso’s painfully hard erection springs out, hitting his lower abs. 
You take a moment to admire the long, heavy cock in your hands - a deliciously pretty pink on top, furiously leaking glistening precum. Saliva pooling in your mouth - you shove it as far down your throat as you possibly could. 
Oh, how many times in his life has Choso imagined this moment right here. In the shower, right before bed, right after waking up too. You’re really a dream come to life. 
A startled, strangled moan of your name leaves Choso’s kiss-bitten lips as you take him all in one go. Only to pull back and spit once- twice on his throbbing cock. The steady stream of spit cool - followed so maddeningly by the warm heat of your mouth once more. You start up a torturous, filthy pace bobbing your head up and down on his cock.
He strains his head to catch a glimpse - even just one - of your nose pressed against his pelvis. Breathing in the heady scent at the tufts of hair at the bottom, already wet with precum and spit. His dirty girl. 
Popping off with a lewd squelch, “Feels good, baby?”
“Feels perfect.”
But he wasn’t gonna fall far behind.
Immediately attaching his lips with yours once more, Choso dives nose-deep in your dripping cunt. Rolling your throbbing clit in between his lips. Flicking his tongue along the sensitive bud in a way that makes your head feel so light. He alternates between a slow, languid torture on your clit and fucking into you unforgivingly.
Your movements stutter as you teasingly lick at his sensitive slit. The salty flavor of his precum is probably your favorite taste now. That bastard.
Reaching down, you cup his heavy balls, massaging the tender flesh in harsh, hasty circles that match your mouth down his length - up and down up and down up and-
Muffled moans and lewd squelching filling the heated room. A rhythmic, sinful cadence that both of you were losing your sanity to. Movements more frantic now. Desperate to make the other cum. Desperate to be first.
Letting out soft, raw grunts, Choso fucks up his throbbing erection into your mouth. Your eyes water as his tip abuses the back of your throat. And it makes you wish you could see how messy he looked right now. All smudged eyeliner and slick-glossed lips. 
Gagging around him, a mixture of drool and precum drips sinfully down the corner of your mouth as you increase your pace, pooling messily on his lower abs. Sloppy - so sloppy.
So it only made sense that your orgasms were the same. 
Pleasure dizzyingly overwhelming, you gush around Choso’s mouth with a stifled squeal. Stars behind your eyes, vision blurring, mind blanking - the only things you register being the languid tongue lapping up at your sweet juices and the guttural groan of what sounds like your name as Choso shoots thick, hot spurts of his cum down your throat. 
Throat burning as the salty taste fills your senses, you milk his cock for more more more- his dick pulsing and stuttering in your mouth. Cum staining the fresh sheets below - a problem for later. 
Right now all you were focused on was riding out your high, grinding almost animalistically on Choso’s pretty face. 
You’ve barely removed yourself from him with a lewd pop! before Choso’s wrestling you back onto the mattress. Two fingers squishing your cheeks into an embarrassing pout, cold rings digging into your skin. The other hand snaking in between your thighs to play with your still-twitching cunt. 
“Didn’t say we were done yet, sweetheart.” he mutters. You weren’t done - no, far from it. Because fuck a refractory period - both of you were going to take all you could get.
And before you can think of anything else, Choso is leaning down, hand prying your lips apart for him into a brutal kiss. Teeth clashing, lips bruising. He forces his tongue down your throat. Tasting himself before you barely get a chance to taste him as well. 
“Hah- fuck-” you flinch as he swears into your bruised lips. “So fuckin’ sweet. You taste so good sweetheart.” The sheer debauchery and ache of his cock too much for him. 
Tasting him. Tasting you. Both a heady flavor that leaves you yearning for more. 
You bite down on his bottom lip in retaliation, relishing in the drawn-out groan that rumbles into your mouth at this. The kiss is feral. It’s animalistic. It leaves you feeling so fucking dirty. 
And you barely recognise the dazed, predatory glint in Choso’s eyes as he pulls away, his mind clearly miles away as he spits once. Twice. Three times on your face.
The wads of saliva and cum hit your face with a warm, wet jolt. You whine at the way it seeps into your skin, dripping down your cheeks so fucking obscenely. Pooling at the sheets below in a way that makes you feel sorry for whoever had a shift at the laundromat tomorrow.
“Now, what do we say, sweetheart?”
A fucked-out, delirious smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you realize - yeah, you wouldn’t have it any other way. “Thank you.”
Not even when Choso lets out a dark chuckle, throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders and manhandling you so that you’re splayed out so shamefully for him. Dripping cunt spread for his greedy gaze and clenching around nothing - aching for him. Begging for him.
Not even when he lines up his still-rock hard cock at your entrance, tip - angry and red - weeping so desperately as he nudges at your sloppy hole. Dragging his head along your folds collecting every bead of slick, just grazing your pulsing clit. Every muscle in your body trembling and anticipating what was to come.
You mewl at the stretch as he presses in - deliciously painful, boderling insane, and exactly what you wanted right now. Splitting you apart on his throbbing cock. 
And especially not when he bottoms out inside you in one, harsh thrust. Burying himself inside your sloppy walls till his twitching balls smack against your ass. 
“Ah- hngh- oh fuckkk.” you keen in both pain and pleasure - broken, raw moans leaving you uncontrollably. But not for long, because suddenly Choso’s shoving two ringed fingers in your mouth, bullying their way inside till you’re gagging and moaning around them. 
Pressing right at that spot on the back of your tongue that makes your eyes tear up so prettily. Hey, if he couldn’t see you choking on his cock properly, the least he could do is see you choking on his fingers, right?
“Now now, wouldn’t want anyone else to hear, hm? Our brother’s would get worried.” he chuckles. Pure, dark amusement in his eyes as he takes in your swollen lips, the teartracks down your cheeks, how utterly beautiful and debauched you look underneath him. So much better than any lust-hazed imagination of his.
And yet, even when you’re being gagged and split apart on his cock, you find it in yourself to be mouthy. Words muffled around his thick fingers as you raise a brow. “There’s no one else home, though?.”
The corners of Choso’s lips lift into a devilish grin, “The neighbors, sweetheart.”
His tone is teasing, but there’s an undercurrent of seriousness that sends a chill down your spine. He’s just joking, right? Right?
“Wha-”
And probably because he was losing his patience - and partly to shut you up - Choso begins to move.
Pushing past the resistance, beginning to fuck into you in shallow, uncontrollable movements of his hips. Just little motions to get him off, groaning at how sinfully tight you were - the way you were sucking him up so good.
Next time, Choso thinks, reaching down a hand to draw tight, little circles on your poor, abused clit - next time he’ll fuck you right. Hours upon hours of teasing you so you don’t know what it feels like when you’re empty without him. 
But fuck does he think he could just about pass out right now.
There’s no going back now. Choso fucks you in a way that makes you feel so deliciously filthy. Plunging into your heated cunt with no restraint. Thrusts positively savage.
Pulling all the way back so that his leaking tip just barely kisses your sloppy entrance, slamming down down down, Choso fucks you at a merciless pace. Relishing the delicious stretch of your cunt as he thrusts into you with a desperation that surpasses the need for reason. 
“Sh-shit, sweetheart. God, s’tight. better than I ever could’ve imagined.” he moans breathlessly, brows furrowing, eyes rolling to the back of his head, the feeling of you milking the absolute soul out of him just too much.
“Oh, yeah- wanted this for so long-”
You yelp every time he rams his cock into you, the smacking of his toned pelvis against your thighs stinging almost as deliciously as his tip kissing your cervix. The obscene slapping of skin on skin makes your cheeks burn - both pairs as his heavy balls smack against your ass each time he shoves his throbbing cock into you.
And because you can’t leave him alone, of course, you find your nails digging harshly into his muscled shoulders. 
Pulling him impossibly closer. You want more. You need more. 
Maybe you say those words out loud - you don’t even know anymore, too delirious and cock-drunk from Choso and your last orgasm and Choso - because his eyes widen ever-so-slightly, mouth falling open into a small oh. Your cunt twitches at the surprised, fucked-out little laugh that leaves him,  “More? My sweetheart wants more?”
And, as you’ve come to learn with Choso - anything you want, you will get. 
“Then fucking- take it.” he grunts lowly, each word punctuated by a harsh thrust of into your plush walls that sends both of you spiraling deeper and deeper into insanity.
And God does he make you take it. Every inch of him fills you, stretching you beyond your limits - both your cunt and your senses as he leans down to bury his head into your neck, hips moving so sloppily, hiking your leg further up his shoulder. The change in angle making you see stars.
Your hips buck up in tandem with his, uncontrollable little ah! ah! ah! leaving you at each thrust. You whimper in pleasure and overstimulation into the heady room, “Yes. Yes yes yes- wan’ cum. Need more. Need you-”
“Fuck- Hngh-” is all he manages to gasp out, pleasure overwhelming his sensitive cock. Choso’s balls twitch almost painfully as they keep smacking your ass. Brain still not keeping up with his body because shit, this is all he’s wanted for years, the least he could do is make you cum before him.
“Sh-shit, sweetheart.” he rasps into your heated skin, “So close- m’ so close.”
You all but sob at his words, “M’too- hngh- ah, m’gonna cum, baby.”
You didn’t expect the petname to be what breaks him, but then again you didn’t think there was anything more left to break. Because Choso groans gutturally, cock twitching inside you “Shit, you’re driving m’crazy, y’know that?”
“I know.” you mewl, voice breaking at the way he increases his frenzied pace on your clit. You could barely even call them circles, just filthy little movements to get you closer and closer to the edge. So close. You writhe beneath him, desperate for release.
And what you didn’t expect was for Choso to connect his sweaty forehead with yours. You take a second to admire just how beautiful he is - all smudged eyeliner, tousled hair, your release still shining on the lower half of his face, and yours. All yours. You could probably stare at the sight forever.
Choso’s hot breath fans your face as he moans breathlessly against your lips, words slurring together as he ruts into you mindlessly, “Always did, y’know?”
“I know.”
“No- y’don’t hah- understand, I- for so long fuck- I-”
“Choso, just kiss me.”
And then you’re kissing him. And he’s kissing you like you’re the most precious thing on Earth. A slow, tender little dance that doesn’t match the way he rams his cock inside you. 
And then you’re cumming. Stars behind your eyes - or maybe those were tears - clamping down desperately on the harsh, jerky movements of his glistening cock that fuck you so sinfully like his little slut. 
White-hot pleasure runs down your spine, or maybe that was Choso - painting your insides the prettiest white you’ve ever seen. Shooting thick, hot ropes of his seed into your waiting pussy. A creamy ring forming around his base as he spills his cum into your snug cunt as he moans against your lips.
It’s messy. It’s sloppy. And as Choso fills you to the brim, hips still unforgiving, seed dribbling out of your dripping pussy at the way it was so overfilled - you think that it’s all you could ever want. 
As his cock twitches finally, exhaustedly - and you distantly wonder how the fuck it isn’t seizing up - Choso collapses onto you, thoroughly fucked-out. Finally pulling out with an obscene squelch, you hiss lowly at the pool of cum that forms beneath you. Gushing out of you sinfully. 
A weighty silence in the air as you both try to catch your breaths.
In the haze of your orgasm you realize that even after all that transpired, he still isn’t laying his full bodyweight on you.
Too afraid to break you.
To break whatever this tender little understanding in the air was.
And it makes some part of your heart clench so delightfully. Subconsciously, you thread a hand through his damp hair, breathing in that familiar smell of vanilla and sunshine - and the heady scent of something so Choso. It makes you intertwine your body so impossibly close with his, not knowing where one of you ends and the other starts.
“My parents are coming home tomorrow.” you start, casually. 
“Mhm. But I’ll still be around here, sweetheart.” Choso rumbles into the crook of your neck. Kissing soothingly over the marks he’d made in the heat of the moment - some carnal little part of him proud of the way you looked like you were fucking thrown to a pack of wolves. 
Words hiding a tense little fear beneath them as you probe further. Something prickly and scared rolling around in your stomach. “For babysitting?”
“Nope.”
Settling deeper into the covers, basking in the afterglow of him. You know you should get up and clean, but right now this was all you wanted. And maybe no other words were needed. 
“God, am I glad your parents aren’t home.” 
Except maybe those. 
You chuckle as you pull back to stare into those deep, dark eyes. Cheeks flaring at the tender little warmth in them much more than they had when he was fucking you so sinfully. A devious idea coming to mind - because now that you got a taste, you were absolutely hooked.
Choso Kamo was absolutely intoxicating.
“Well, we still have time so how about-”
A distant click!
“Honey, we’re home~!”
Shit.
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A/N. Fun fact this was originally supposed to be called Timeout! but it was giving too much me during beep test.
Plagiarism not authorized.
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paganinpurple · 1 year
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AO3 Etiquette -UPDATED
Based on both decent and not so decent replies, I have made some changes to my original post below.
It would seem a whole new kind of AO3 reader/writer is emerging and it is becoming clear not everyone quite understands how the website community works. Here is some basic guidance on how most people expect you to go about using AO3 to keep this a fun community archive that funtions correctly:
As well as likes, kudos is for when the story was interesting enough to make you finish reading. If it sucked or was badly written, you probably left. If you finished it, you liked it - so kudos.
If you really liked it, you should try to comment. It can be long and detailed or a literal keysmash. Writers don't care, we just love comments.
No critisism unless the author has specifically asked or agreed to hear it (so use your notes to say if you want some constructive feedback). Even constructive critisism is a no-no unless an author note tells you it's okay. No, posting it online is not an open invitation for that. Many people write as a fun hobby or a way to cope with, among other things, insecurity and just want to share. Don't ruin that for them. I've seen so many authors just stop writing coz they can't handle the negative emotions the critism brings, and it's only meant to be a fun thing shared for free (pointing out tagging errors is not included in this).
Do not comment to ask the author to write/update something else. It's tacky and off-putting and will probably have the opposite effect than the one you want.
There is no algorithm, it's an archive. Use the search and filter function to add/remove the pairings/characters/tropes etc. you want to read about and it will find you the fics that fit the bill.
For this to work, writers must tag and rate stories. This avoids readers finding the wrong things and missing the stuff they want. I don't care how cringy that trope is in your eyes - it gets tagged.
The tag exception is if you don't want to tag a million things or spoil your story, you can rate it as "chose not to use warnings," and maybe tag the bare minimum.
Don't censor tags. How can someone exclude a tag if the word isn't typed out correctly? There are no content bans for terms so don't censor them.
If the tags are mostly content/trigger warnings, especially if they are things considered very fucked up or graphic, you might want to use "dead dove - do not eat" to ensure people know that you're not messing around with tags and what they get is exactly what you've warned them about.
Character A/Character B means a ROMANTIC or SEXUAL relationship of some kind. Character A&Character B is PLATONIC, like friendship or family.
Nothing is banned. This is an rule because banning one thing is a slipperly slope to banning another and another, until nothing is allowed anymore. Do not expect anyone to censor for you. Because of the tags system, you are responsible for your own reading experience.
People can create new chapters and sequels/fic series any time after they "complete" a story. So it's considered perfectly normal to subscribe, even to a finished story. You can even subscribe to the author instead just to cover your bases.
Do not repost stories or change the publishing date without an extremely good reason (like a complete top to bottom rewrite or an exchange youve written for going public). It's an archive, not social media. No one cares what's the most recent, only what fits their tag needs.
Instead of deleting a story you wrote if you hate it - consider making it anonymous or orphaning it so others can still enjoy it, without it being connected to your name anymore. If you still want to delete it, fair enough.
It's come to my attention that metaworks ARE allowed on AO3, which is something I wasn't aware of. So if you do post an essay or theory, please tag it as such so others can choose to search for it or exclude it. Art is also allowed.
The only reason this archive works is because NON ONE PROFITS. Do not link to your ko-fi or patreon or mention monetary gain in any way or you violate the terms and risk having your account removed. If anyone does link, it leaves the archive open to people claiming it's for profit and having the whole thing removed.
I KNOW there's plenty more I missed but I'm trying to cover most of the basics that people seem to be struggling with.
I invite anyone to add to this, but please explain, don't berate.
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