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#previous shit in this game as possible
revvethasmythh · 8 months
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met up with mattis again at last light inn and that kid is literally my son. my criminal rogue son who I can bully into giving me things by pointing out that if he doesn't I'll just steal them later and wouldn't that be embarrassing for him
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toytulini · 4 months
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i made an oc thats at least nicknamed "Stupid" and im constantly thinking about what a power move that is tbh
#toy txt post#i miss it i should play w her more often but it was going to be for a dnd thing that ive all but abandonded bc i feel like#i cant. do that but it sucks bc i had some cool fun concepts and characters but it was hard enough back then when i was just insecure and#knew nothing about dnd and was intimidated by the mechanics but wanted to try dming for some reason but now i just straight up dont know#what to do but i really enjoy those characters. i should just unlock the secret channelsand scrap the dnd game idea for now and keep the#concepts and im sure i could come up w something if i ever actually learned anything about that shit#anyway. my point being. im obsessed w my character i made up and you should be too cos its good shit#toxic anarchist half dragon demigod with authority issues whos an alloaro clown named Stupid Cupid.#i think her pronouns were whatever but also it/she? when i say toxic i mean it did have a bit of a Clown Cult.#Cupid i think is possibly its given name and Stupid was her clown ass addition and yes i do know of the song and yes it is on its playlist#obsessed w all the stupid overpowered characters i made in that universe. they were such good concepts. gulliver obviously. charybdis#silas (cupids father + previous (now deceased) god of chaos)#cupids mother who i dont think i had a name for yet but she was supposed to be kind of a neutral lawful (in a rules lawyering way)#moon paladin who hatefucked the god of chaos after failing to kill him which she was trying to do out of devotion to the moon#and she supposed to have what i can only describe as chainsaw powers? and she destroyed every gun in existence and killed anyone who knew#how to make them until there were no guns left bc silas kept being annoying w guns and was trying to use them on the moon. for reasons#so she really pissed him off and impressed him before she finally got to him and tried to kill him. and if she was even a minor god instead#of a 'mortal' it wouldve worked and thats the only reason he didnt die from her. and then her child. stupid cupid the clown#grew up and had issues and started a clown cult and wandered around usurping warlords and dictators before putting her aim on silas#and trying to kill him. but failing not bc she was mortal but bc he outsmarted it. but he couldbt bring himself to kill it so he had her#put to sleep for a thousand yrs until someone else killed him(he pissed off a stupid seagull druid who lured him into the path of Charybdis#who he'd ALSO pissed off and Charybdis mega killed him and then the gull druid was made the new god of chaos just to have someone fill the#roll but then they kind of suck at it? they did not want that much responsibility altho the immortality is nice. when they took over they#released cupid whos a bit of a legend but then the vibes are super weird bc cupid Definitely wants to usurp and take on the mantle of#chaos deity and gulliver idolizes her but doesnt feel great about just handing that over to it? and cupid has to grapple with not being the#one to kill silas. almost everyone she knew is dead. her mom isnt. the world has changed a lot. she finds out her cult is still going and#gets excited? but they have Changed. it disgusts her now. they are not the radical clowns she intended. the vibes are weird. she denounces#that and tries out piracy. she manages to get the moon paladin living chainsaw power?#despite not being aligned w their ideology at all. wow nepotism. then it was going to spiral into some fucking meta galactic shit and have#well. ran out of tags. anyway i miss this character i should figure out what im doing w this universe cos theres no way im dming rn 🙃
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the-maladjustedjester · 8 months
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The inherent eroticism between a condemned and their executioner
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thecherrygod · 2 years
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thinking about hdb while holding my head in my hands and suffering
#my posts#i cant fully articulate this#idk if i have the time either#but. help. i will tag this with my organization tags. i may see this at some other time and maybe ill be able to so#disco elysium#hdb#im just thinking about him and martinaise harry and his childhood and the 15th indotribe thing and dora#how probably considering the type of friends he had and how they all ended..... they were probably all like him personality wise#like. im not saying they were bad people like harry was kind of an asshole but not fully#like they were all a bunch of teens in a bad situation trying to make the best of it however they can and well... didnt work out too well#but what i mean is that i think thats partially why he got that level of attached to dora? she didnt go through what he did#she had the money to not go through that she was stable she was a constant in his life that was pure and that wasnt always#going through something. a guide. harry went to her like a moth to a fire with pure devotion bc she was everything he never had#she probably also treated him different than what all his previous friends would have. i imagine her to be very gentle#and harry probably never got to know too much about people being soft so that was also. new. but somethign imposible to him#so i can see how he would love her like that to the point of basically worshipping her as god and how he would still love her#years after it went to shit even when he cant remember anything. it makes sense#i think they were engaged bc the wedding gown but idk if its said in game. but he loved her enough to want to marry her in a world#where real love isnt possible for him but only for new people in a new world he still wanted that with her even if it didnt work out#he holds to whatever he can of her as a lifeline and i. man. dude. yeah no i get him#idk how long they were together but it also doesnt matter bc of how harry is as a person#also of course at first it was all good. she was basically fixing him but he cant get fixed only with love in a world like that!#or with a life like his... it was always going to go down. and i. dude#... i am thinking about this as someone who still loves someone and we werent even dating like#i think if we dated and it went bad like. i think id be in a similar situation to harry tbh. i get him#yeah no yeah lmao i do think of this person also sort of as the only good thing in my life#and i am glad she did reject me when i confessed bc if i had fully lost her i dont know where id be? but also man its been 7 years#of the rejection and basically 10 of falling for her. i get harry so fucking badly on this one USHDGIUHUSG#ok in the end i did say what i had to say but in the tags i dont think ill make a proper post out of it#but i did write it in a way that wasnt articulated for a post so i think i was right making it like this lmao
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pepsimaxolotl · 1 year
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Fully being honest I think I need a new hobby or hyperfixation or special interest or something to destress
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sebdoeswords · 1 year
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really wish some of the witcher games' actions and consequences weren't completely arbitrary and unforeseeable
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wonryllis · 6 months
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☆ MY PRETTY DOLL ! ( enhypen hyung line reaction to you in a lingerie )
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╰ 𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝗋𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗌𝖾.
𝒏o𝓉ℯs. enhypen losing their sanity 𖥔 ݁ SMUT MDNI, requested fem!reader LIB? word count ` 1074 PLS REBLOG!!
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𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚
"my pretty little slut, you did this on purpose didn't you?" heeseung's fingers thrust in and out of you at an animalistic pace. the wet sounds echoing in the room, adding onto the arousal of watching yourself on the mirror. your back rests against his chest as he holds your legs apart with his own. one hand fingering the fuck out of you and the other grip your throat to force you to keep your eyes at the vulgar image infront.
"falling asleep on my bed with this on, baby you're so dirty and desperate," he grunts at the lewd sight, mentally drooling over the scene of you trying to push your hips forward to meet his fingers when he slows down a bit.
heeseung swears he almost stopped breathing when he came across you passed out on top of his covers, dressed in the prettiest lingerie. more like pretty you making the lingerie look so pretty. the thought of you waiting in his room like that to give him a surprise fueling his inner sex demons. feeling more turned on than ever. grinning sheepishly over his intentions.
"come on now, ride me baby," his arms hook around you as he manhandles you onto his lap. carressing your trembling thighs and slapping your pussy. he rests his palms on the bed, watching you struggle to put his cock inside after all the edging he put you through. cooing at your whiney protests to let you cum, cute and pathetic and hot. so cruel but you loved it and he knew you loved it.
𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚
"fuck baby, i can see your pussy from here," jay groans, feeling his dick twitch hard in his pants. the sleep lolling him from the previous night he spent gaming, immediately vanishing. he is so wide awake right now, orbs bulging out at the sight of you twirling in the middle of his room, showing off the lingerie you just got, for him.
it barely covers your ass, and it barely— wrong it does not cover your pussy at all, he can see it so clearly he thinks he'll grow crazy. frozen in his seat, gulping at every thought that comes to his mind, things he'd do to you right now.
"is it pretty?" you ask, looking at him with doe eyes, he feels he'll bust a nut right then and there. his cock throbbing with anticipation as he gets up from the chair, walking over to where you stand. calloused hands gently brush against everywhere, taking his time to admire your look, trying to imprint the image of it in his brain. "jayyy, do i look pretty? do you like thi—"
"yes baby, so so pretty. so fucking pretty," he's immediately grabbing you by the waist and throwing you on the bed. impatient all of a sudden as he rips the pathetic thread of a panty and shoving down his pants, thrusts his impossibly hard dick so rough into you, it's like he lost control. you drive him batshit crazy and jay doesn't know if it's good or worse that you fucking know it and use it to get what you want.
𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡
"give me a little show, princess," jake's hands twitch with desperation, so restless to touch you. though the need to savour the sight of you in that racy lingerie is strong he can't help but be seated, tense and aroused, eyes locked on your figure.
"shit, you're beautiful," the way the lace hugs your skin with the little sneak peaks of skin showing him exactly what he wants to see but not entirely what he wants to see and it makes him feel feral.
"won't you touch me?" you whine sultrily, and jake feels like a hybrid in rut, his body heating up beyond sane, dick throbbing every other second, feeling hyper aware of his surroundings and possibilities of all that he could do to and with you. he pulls you against him lips landing on yours in an instant, the messiest kiss you have ever shared, rushed and gasping for breath. there's just so much he wants to do right now he can't seem to decide what to start with, malfunctioning poorly.
"fuck, jake," yet he finds it in him to begin with rubbing you over your pretty panties, quick circles with his fingers pressing hard against your sensitive folds,"yes baby, gonna make you feel so good," he pushes you to lay on the edge of the bed before forcing your legs far apart in a snap. getting on his knees and leaving fluttering kisses on you inner thighs. shoving your panties aside and diving in to eat you out at once. from kitten licks to lapping at your slick, from tiny kisses for a tease to lips harshly sucking at your engorged clit. jake was absolutely crazed.
𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡
"sunghoon! what are you doing!" you squeal, squirming in place as sunghoon suddenly grabs you from the corridor into his dark room, and cornering you against his desk roughly pulls your oversized shirt(his shirt) up. door slightly ajar, an open chance for anyone to peak in.
"couldn't help but wonder if you're still wearing it," he whispers, hands fondling your breasts harsh and sloppy over the lace material. just an hour earlier, while he was out with jay you sent him a picture of you dressed in the most gorgeous set of lingerie ever. looking so innocently sexy he felt his breath knocked right out of him, dick hard and leaking in the middle of the mall.
"mhp— they'll h-hear us," but that is least of sunghoon's concern right now, they have heard him fuck you before, multiple times. all he cares about is that you're here, putty in his arms, adorning the hottest thing you have ever worn, fabric barely covering your intimate parts. just touching you like this makes him feel so high on cloud nine, the rush of pleasure in your little whimpers and moans trying to be quiet. nothing is more important than this.
"let them hear, fuck you're so damn pretty i'll cum just from this," his breath is ragged, fast and shuttering as he watches your face contort into the prettiest of expressions while his hand stuffed in your panties, plays with your pussy. fingers switching between flicking and pinching at the little bud and plunging into your slicked hole in slow thrusts.
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taglist ( open. ) @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @shawnyle
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kitten4sannie · 9 months
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pairing: ex! san x fem! reader feat. wingman seonghwa and instigator mingi
genres: omg actual plot ??, exes to lovers, romance, angst with a happy ending, fluff, an attempt at humor, smut finale
summary: during a winter getaway with your friends, you end up having to come face to face with Choi San, the man who broke your heart in two just last christmas.
w.c: 8.2k
tags: features the unholy trinity: misunderstandings/miscommunication/messiness, drama (i bring drama-ma-ma-ma~), alcohol use, mutual jealousy, mutual pining, lots of banter, third parties, poor sannie and reader are just two big dummies with even bigger hearts </3,, like 20 flashbacks (okay it’s like 2 but i like being dramatic sue me), too many winter analogies, insecurities, confessions, l bombs, tears, all that jazz
warnings: soft dom! san (literally the softest dom to ever exist IM SICK), subby! reader, pussydrunk san and cockdrunk reader (like these mfs are so desperate for each other it’s actually disgusting), dirty talk, pet names, praise, possessiveness, kissing, a lot of spit (leave me alone!!!), tit play, grinding, body worship, oral (receiving), passionate condomless lovemaking by the fire baybeeeee, breeding kink, bulge kink, creampies
a/n: so i listen to last christmas religiously every year and while i was jamming my hamster brain was like “WRITE WRITE WRITE” so i diddd and yeahh this happened??? lmao but fr this was the most fun i’ve ever had writing since feb filth fest…. like wtf. i gotta write plot forward fics more often this shit’s like a drug man. anyways i hope you enjoy my dear lovelies <33
*shoutout to my sweetheart bunbun @cottoncandy-girl for beta reading and hyping this fic up during the writing process. i would’ve second guessed myself twice as much if not for you. you’re a lifesaver!! mwah mwah ~~
song rec for the general vibe: last christmas by wham obv <3, fool by frankie cosmos, snowfall (slowed and reverb) by oneheart, know me by gemini, easily by bruno major, flowers and chocolate by eyedress
angst: pleaser by the wallows, do me right by gemini, homesick by wave to earth, cherie by hojean
smut: mice city by hotel ugly, between your thighs by jimmy brown, lock me in by hojean, touch by keshi, your love by brb
Masterlist
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“Hey, Y/N,” your best friend began, walking around the side of your beat-up car to the trunk where you were busy shoving various suitcases and bags into the small space and trying to make them fit. “So, don’t get mad, but–”
With a case of wine bottles in hand, you slowly set it down on the lip of the trunk, side-eyeing your friend with the intensity of a thousand suns. It was so powerful, it’d probably melt the snow that had been falling around your feet for the past thirty minutes. “Why would I be mad? What’s going on?”
“Just breathe for me, okay?” she sighed, bringing a hand up to play with a few strands of her hair. “So, you know how Seonghwa’s coming up to the cabin with us?”
“Um, yeah…? I don’t care about you bringing your boyfriend with us, you know. Just let me know if you’re gonna fuck so I can put my headphones on,” you replied, lifting the case up and pushing it inside the empty space of the trunk, satisfied that your long game of tetris was finally complete.
She quickly waved her hands, shaking her head. “No, that’s not…” she started, taking in a deep inhale, before letting it out, a wave of condensation hitting the cold air between the two of you. “He invited…someone. Someone you know.”
You bent down into the trunk to move a few items around, making sure they wouldn’t collapse on each other. “Okay? I only know you and a few other people, bestie. Who could it possibly be–”
“It’s San,” she finally blurted out, her face scrunching up in anticipation of your reaction.
Once your ex was spoken into existence again, a flood of memories from the previous year bombarded your defenseless brain and heart, causing you to stand up so quickly, you hit your head on the edge of the trunk lid.
“Oh my god, Y/N, are you okay?” your friend gasped, already at your side, helping you stand up straight and placing her hand on the one you had held against the back of your head.
“Oh, yeah, I’m good. I think that just knocked all the bad memories out of my brain. Ready to head out?” you chimed, giving her a thumbs up with your keys in hand, stumbling a bit in place, your vision fading out slightly.
Sighing, your friend reached for the keys. “Yeah, I’m driving.”
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Your friend pulled her keys out of the ignition once she parked in a free space near the cabin you’d both be staying at, turning her head to observe the way you were playing with the drawstrings of your joggers with a pout on your sullen face. “Y/N, are you sure you’re okay? You know, we’re visiting everyone else later, so you can always stay at their cabin, if you’d like. It’s much bigger and has wifi, and definitely won’t have S–”
“I’m not a little bitch,” you suddenly whined, your eyebrows furrowed, your pout growing. “I can handle being in the same cabin with my dumbass ex, okay? I don’t even care that he’s here, actually.”
She nodded her head knowingly, giving you a gentle smile. “Just let me know if you’re uncomfortable, please. And if he starts up with one of his…unique personalities, tell me or Seonghwa, alright? He knows how to handle him.”
“I can handle him myself. There’s plenty of snow for me to toss him into, or some flames if our cabin has a fireplace,” you muttered, too stubborn to admit that your heart would most likely explode as soon as you had the displeasure of witnessing his disgustingly handsome face and charming dimpled smile.
Your friend shook her head slightly, unable to keep from smiling in your direction. “There is a fireplace, yeah.”
You sighed contentedly, admiring the expanse of dense snow, the sundry of oversized pine trees, the far away mountains covered in white, and the cluster of cozy-looking cabins beyond the frosted windshield. “Finally, some good news.”
Once you both got to the front steps of the cabin you’d be staying at, your arms full of the items that you could bring from the car, the front door swung open, almost giving you a heart attack on the spot.
“Baby, you’re here!” Seonghwa gasped, pulling your friend into his arms when she set her stuff down on the porch and spinning her around in a small circle, his eyes twinkling with pure adoration.
Once Seonghwa acknowledged your presence with a warm greeting, you stood off to the side while your friend and Seonghwa kissed and giggled with each other, your arms beginning to feel like jelly, wishing someone would just stamp the words “third wheel” on your forehead already.
“That looks heavy,” you heard someone say in a deeply familiar baritone voice, causing you to whip your head towards the origin, your wide eyes meeting San’s concerned coffee brown ones. “Do you want me to carry it in for you?”
“San,” you automatically blurted out, alarm bells going off, the mini versions of you running around in panic inside your head, your fingers clasping tighter around your things.
“Y/N,” he parroted back in the same cadence, already moving closer to you, his arms sliding underneath your belongings and holding them up with ease, his navy sweater doing nothing to conceal the solid mass of his arm muscles. “Is it like, misogynistic for me to carry your things?”
You opened and closed your hands, trying your get rid of the pins and needles. “No, I’d say it’s progressive since it’s a big dumb caveman carrying my things, so women: 1, patriarchy: 0.”
San offered you a dimpled smile, his wide shoulders scrunching up slightly, as a hearty laugh emanated from his throat. “Caveman, I like that. Should I go find a cave to explore?” He tilted his head, his eyes flitting between yours and your pleasing body line. “Maybe try to start a fire?”
Your heart leapt into your throat, forcing you to gulp it down. You sneered, already beginning to push past him to enter the cabin, only turning your head back to tell him, “Start a fire and jump inside, caveman.”
San smiled at you, seeing right past your act, watching you walk away, before turning his head to look at the two lovebirds still hugging on each other. “See that? She already gave me a pet name.”
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“Fuck,” you groaned, dropping yourself down onto the surprisingly comfy mattress in the cozy guest room you were occupying, finally done with putting your clothes and toiletries away in their respective places, for the most part, also noticing that the violent hammering inside your chest had subsided.
And then your door opened.
“Yo, this cabin is pretty sick, right? It’s got a nice, cabin-ey feeling to it,” San announced, walking into your room and looking around like he owned the place. Typical San behavior. Whistling casually, he eventually headed over to your side of the bed, picking up a few skincare products that were sitting on your bedside table to study them. “Does this retinol shit really work?”
“Excuse me, but are you lost? This is my room,” you combated, not bothering to get up from the bed you were currently sinking into, simply turning on your back and lifting your head up slightly to glare at him.
“Bro.” San clutched his chest like you had just emptied a clip right in between his tits, his eyebrows turning upwards, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “Why do you act like we haven’t been inside each other?” He climbed onto the bed, looking down at you past his black bangs. “Matter of fact, I know you better than your little friend downstairs.”
You stared up at him, cursing yourself for wanting nothing more than to grab him by his stupid face and kiss him — but you wouldn’t, not after what he did. “You’re so gross.”
“Like in a sexy way, right?” he quipped, chuckling when you just shook your head. San slowly laid himself down beside you, looking up at the ceiling, reaching up behind his head and cupping the back of it to get more comfortable. “You didn’t argue against the fact that I know you better than your own self proclaimed ‘bestie’, you know.”
You let out a small sigh, resting your hands down at your sides, gripping the quilted blanket underneath you, your heart pounding inside your chest just like it did last Christmas. Did you ever fall out of love with him? Was that why your heart felt so stuck? Frozen in place? Like it was waiting for San to make it beat again? “Well, for once, you’re not wrong. I…let you in back then, obviously, so yeah, you know me better than she does. You know me better than anyone.”
San began to reach for your hand, hesitating for a second, not even realizing his walls were just as high. If only he could gather the courage to bring them down. “Y/N…”
You turned to look at San just as he turned his whole body towards yours, giving you one of his infamous gazes, his eyes closed ever so slightly, his lips parted, drawing in a breath. He lowered his hand, touching the top of yours, rubbing it with his thumb. “You know what else I know?”
Why did he have to do this to you? Just what the fuck was his problem?
“What, San?” you questioned underneath your breath, seconds away from losing it completely.
His eyes lost their playful twinkle, instead displaying sorrow. “Y/N, I–”
Seonghwa popped his head into the room. “Y/N, have you seen– Oh,” he deadpanned, displaying an oddly delighted smile for a split second, before his lips evened out. “We’re heading to the hang out now. It’s gonna snow pretty hard in a bit so it’s now or never.”
You both sat up from the bed, your cheeks burning like you had just been caught, well, inside of each other.
Seonghwa was about to say something when your friend walked up behind him and pulled him into whisper something, causing him to whisper back, the both of them nodding at each other.
You and San exchanged glances, before all four of you looked at one another. “Are you hiding things from me, pookie?” you playfully asked your friend, pouting.
“No, I’d never hide anything from you, pookie wookie baby bear!” she cried dramatically, running into the room and tackling you back down onto the bed.
San looked to Seonghwa, making grabby hands at him. “Where’s my hug?”
Seonghwa clicked his tongue, pointing at San’s thin sweater as it rose past his hips. “You better put on some more layers before we go, pookie bear. It’s cold as balls outside.”
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Instead of hanging out inside your friend’s friends’ cabin where the party was at, you loitered outside in the snow, building yourself a snowman. Maybe he’d stay by your side longer than the last one.
“Hey, what are you doing out here by yourself, ba–” San started, standing with his arm just barely pressing into yours, immediately clearing his throat, sticking his hands into his coat pockets. “Y/N, I mean, heh, sorry I’ve had a few drinks.”
You almost broke the empty beer bottle you were using as the snowman’s nose inside your hands from hearing San almost address you as baby, turning your head to look at the adorably goofy smile he had on his stupidly cute face. You bit your lip, wishing he would just say it, the layers of ice around your heart starting to crack. “I figured. Well, how come you’re out here with me, instead of shotgunning a beer or something with your caveman friends?”
Amused, San nodded his head, impressed by your ability to keep up with your shtick. “They’re too busy hanging around the fireplace, you know. The fire’s so pretty, they got distracted.” He grinned at you, grinning harder when you began to smile back at him, his heart skipping a beat at the sound of the giggle that escaped your lips. “I missed your giggle…missed you…” he murmured absentmindedly, pretending to stay busy by helping you round out the head of the snowman, while you stuck a rock into it where one of the eyes would be.
You dropped the other rock, standing still, feeling your mouth go dry. You racked your brain over his words, wanting to ask him why he didn’t stay with you in the first place if he was just going to miss you so much. You missed him too. You wanted him to know.
By the time you had made up your mind, San had picked up the rock and stuck it into the snow, completing the snowman’s face. “There we go. Mr. Snowman’s looking real nice.” He waited for a second, before turning to look at you with a concerned pout. “He’s not cuter than me, right?” When you didn’t respond, he blinked, leaning in. “Y/N?”
Instead of responding, you found yourself wrapping your arms around San’s neck, pulling him into a hug. You didn’t even say anything — you just focused on feeling his warm body against yours, recalling what it felt like to be his. His baby. If only he would just say it.
“Baby…” he whispered just under his breath, so carefully, like he risked the chance of causing an avalanche if he spoke any louder, gently rubbing your back in circles, automatically resting his head on the top of yours like he did last year. “What’s this about?”
“I don’t know, I just–” you murmured into his chest, your own about to collapse in on itself from hearing what he said, hugging onto him a little tighter than before, wishing things were different. “I…I think I’m drunk…”
“Oh…” San replied, swallowing harshly, only pulling away once you started to. He tucked a bit of hair behind your ear, giving you a concerned look. “You should come back inside and drink some water, then. Seonghwa was right to tell me to check up on you.”
Your face fell slightly, the bottle that was stuck inside the snowman drooping inside the melting snow as if it was mirroring your disappointment. “You…only came out here because Seonghwa told you to?”
“Well, I mean, he was the one that noticed you were gone, so he just thought I should make sure you were okay, yeah…” San explained, rubbing his arm.
You nodded your head, a soft smile returning to your face, not wanting San to see the hurt you felt, not yet, anyway. You were still able to hide it as of late. “That’s nice of him.”
“Yeah, Hwa’s a sweetie,” San mused, noticing the sad snowman, reaching out to fix the position of the beer bottle. “Too bad he’s taken, otherwise I’d be wifing him up and giving him the exclusive Choi San Caveman Experience. There’s a trademark on that, by the way.”He gave you another goofy smile, his smile growing when you offered him a few small giggles.
“I think you need water more than I do,” you mentioned, gently punching his arm.
San chuckled, his smile softening, wanting to say so much more than just, “You might be right.”
After a few seconds of too much silence, and too much yearning for an important conversation to take place, you instead pointed to the lively cabin behind you. “You should go get some. I’ll be back inside soon.”
“Okay, sounds good.” He put his hands back into his pockets, lingering there for a moment, before heading back inside.
You stood there for a while, watching the makeshift nose of the snowman begin to droop again, before you reeled your foot back and kicked into the base of the snowman, watching it topple over and fall apart.
❆ ❆ ❆
You lingered near the spiked punch bowl that sat inside the corner of the cabin’s empty kitchen, drinking down a solo cup’s worth of the fruity beverage and tossing the cup into the sink, not noticing another person’s presence until you turned to the side and bumped your nose into their broad chest. “Oh, shit– I’m sorry,” you apologized, backing up a bit to see that you had ran into no one other than Song Mingi, the man you had trauma dumped and cried to for an hour before having mindless rebound sex with after San dumped you. “Min, hey. Long time, no see.”
“Y/N. It’s nice to see you again. Very nice,” Mingi mused, taking a long sip of his drink, just studying you with his amused, half-closed eyes, pointing upwards with his finger. “What are the odds of this?”
“Hm?” Your eyes followed where he was pointing until your gaze settled on the mistletoe that hung from the doorway above the two of you, a memory of the past immediately lighting up the insides of your brain like the flash of a camera, the snapshot still fresh in your subconscious as though it had never faded in the first place, much like your feelings for San — but who were you to admit that to yourself?
“Jesus, what is with people and mistletoe?” you grumbled, crossing your arms over your itchy christmas sweater, ready to shield your eyes so you didn’t have to look at the two people vigorously making out underneath the red berries that were hung from the ceiling of the crowded cabin.
San hovered near you, running a hand through his hair, his eyes studying your scrunched up, flushed face, wondering how you could be so cute. “The origin of mistletoe is actually really romantic, y’know.” Once you met his gaze, his lips curled into a smile, his dimples making an appearance.
You gripped onto your sweater sleeve, smiling softly back at him, your annoyance fading. “Tell me about it then, Mr. Historian.”
San’s eyes sparkled at your reaction, his shoulder gently pressing into yours as he brought his drink up to his mouth. “Mistletoe has always been able to survive in the harshest of winters. Even when everything’s frozen…” When he lowered his hand, the side of his pinky touched yours, sending warmth into the both of your bodies. “….it still finds a way to bloom.”
You took in a quick breath, having to look down at your feet before your heart burst out of your chest as an unintentional ode to Alien and ruined the annual christmas party. “I didn’t peg you as a hopeless romantic, San.”
“I’m full of surprises, baby.” San hummed, gently taking your chin in his grasp and pressing a kiss to your lips, giggling delightedly as you buried your scorching face into his chest, his heart pounding, wanting nothing more than to show you just how hopelessly in love he was with you, but too afraid to grant you access to the very intense, very full extent of it, let alone himself.
He was full of surprises, so full of them that he was able to show such a meaningful display of love to you and still break up with you on the very same night, with little to no explanation, just a simple ‘I’m sorry.’ Choi San was truly an enigma — one you cursed yourself for still wanting to grasp, to hold, to forgive.
You looked down at Mingi’s drink only for him to motion for you to take it, immediately downing the punch until you were sucking on an ice cube and crunching it between your teeth, satisfied with the buzz coursing through your body, bitterness still seeping its way in your veins. You knew that what you were about to do wouldn’t make you feel any better, but you did it anyway, grabbing Mingi by the collar of his ugly Christmas sweater and smashing your lips against his. What you didn’t know, however, was that San was standing at the end of the hallway, with his hand in his coat pocket, there to witness how Mingi pressed you into the wall.
❆ ❆ ❆
Your friend slowly inched her way towards you from across the brightly lit, festively decorated living room full of your boisterous acquaintances having a battle with each other to determine who could be the loudest, drunkest individual in the room. Currently, it was San, unsurprisingly, who had a beer in one hand while hugging onto the obscenely large Christmas tree in the middle of the room. You couldn’t tell exactly what song he was singing, but you were pretty sure it was a romantic, mostly cheesy pop ballad from the 80s.
“Having fun?” your friend gauged softly, sitting down on the sofa in the corner beside you, clinking her glass beer bottle against yours.
You shrugged, taking a few sips of the chilled beer, crossing one leg over the other. “I made out with Mingi earlier, so that was cool, I guess.”
“You what?” she gasped, pressing closer to you, grabbing your arm and shaking you. “Y/N, oh my god, that’s so —” Her gossipy tone turned into one of concern. “But what about San?”
“What about San?” you grumbled, internally annoyed that all you could think about was San when Mingi’s tongue was down your throat. “He probably already did the same thing, considering how torched he is.”
She sighed, sinking into the couch, very well aware of how San truly felt about you, last Christmas, and how much he wanted to turn things around. Of course she would know. She had to hear it from Seonghwa, who in turn heard it from San off and on for the entire year, but she wasn’t about to speak for him. He would have to do that himself.
“Are you going to play truth, dare, or drink with us?” Mingi suddenly asked you, leaning his hip against the side of the couch, causing you and your friend to look up at him.
“Ehh.” You shrugged your shoulders at him.
He put a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it, feeling someone’s eyes burning holes into the back of his head, figuring San was watching the both of you from the tree, who indeed was, his hands tightening around his beer and the scratchy pine needles he was holding onto. “It’ll be more fun if you join in, Y/N. How bout it?”
You sucked on your teeth for a second, your eyes moving past Mingi to gaze at San across the room, who was now talking to a girl who had came up to him, your stomach sinking at the clear appearance of his dimples. Stupid caveman.
You stood up, fingers squeezing around your poor beer bottle. “Fuck it, I’m in.”
“Good, good,” Mingi replied, smiling absentmindedly, bringing his own drink up to his lips, as if he wasn’t aware of the disaster he was about to bring into fruition — and all for the chance that he could recreate the events of last year’s Christmas party. It led to him having a pretty, teary-eyed girl in his bed to take care of, after all.
❆ ❆ ❆
“Yo, I can’t believe — he actually — I can’t breathe,” someone gasped out in between soundless laughs, falling back into their chair along with their other friends, pointing at San as he trudged back into the cabin past the sliding door, clad in only a form-fitting pair of Christmas themed boxers, wiping some snow off of his shoulders, before immediately going for his mixed drink and tossing it back victoriously, one hand on his hip.
“You bitches really thought I wouldn’t do it,” San chuckled self-righteously, taking another sip, before letting out a low ‘aaah’. “Someone owes me 20 bucks. Which one of you was it?” He held up an accusative finger to one of the girls nearby, who giggled and held her hands up defensively. “It was you, wasn’t it? Give it up!”
The rest of the group laughed in response, drunkenly leaning into each other, gleeful smiles plastered on their flushed faces.
“San’s pretty lively tonight,” Seonghwa said near you, nudging you gently with his elbow. “It’s almost kind of cute, huh?” Poor man was out of the loop, but he was trying, bless his heart.
“Cute?” you muttered, raising an eyebrow at him. “He’s butt-ass naked at a Christmas party. He’s a grown man wearing boxers with candy canes on it. What on earth is cute about that?”
Seonghwa pursed his lips, side-eyeing you. “I don’t know, I just thought you’d agree with the way you’ve been staring at him all night.“
You almost choked on your spit, bringing a hand up to your hair to smooth it out. “Well, it’s hard to keep my eyes off of him when he’s being an annoying ass pick-me like that.”
“But you picked…him.”
“I did. Ages ago, Seonghwa,” you corrected him, watching San out of the corner of your eye, unable to believe that he was letting the girl slip a twenty directly into the waistline of his boxers. As soon as you looked down, San’s eyes were on you, his lips turning into a frown, immediately pushing the girl’s hand away when it lingered a bit too long, his eyes filled with bitter determination. “You know what he did to me. He spent all that time getting my hopes up all year long, only to hit me with the ‘i’m bad with commitment’ card before he left the party last year. That’s bullshit and we both know it.”
Seonghwa sighed in defeat, sinking back into his seat, biting at his lip. “I get what you’re saying, Y/N, I really do. It was unbelievably shitty for him to do that to you, but San…I think he really regrets it. All he talks about is you, Y/N.” Seonghwa turned to face you, gently touching your wrist. “He’s always loved you. He just doesn’t know how to verbalize it.”
You started biting at your lip too, simply listening to your friend’s words, wondering if there was any truth to them. It’s not like you were hearing them from San himself. That would be a different story — though you didn’t know if he was even capable of that kind of vulnerability. “I’d like to believe that, Hwa. I just…”
“Oh my god! With tongue? My virgin eyes!” someone gasped loudly at something, covering their eyes, their friends laughing at his dramatic performance.
“At least someone’s getting some,” Mingi chuckled, while eyeing you, currently holding up the same piece of mistletoe you had encountered together earlier, only this time someone else was under it. Someone that made you wish you had never even came up to the cabin in the first place.
“There’s no way…” you whispered to yourself, unable to take your eyes off of San, who was holding that same girl against him, his hands clutching her hips, his tongue halfway into her mouth by the time you got up from the couch and grabbed a water cup from the coffee table, determined to keep your tears inside your body before you stormed out, but you had to answer to your demons first.
“Y/N, he’s just drunk! He’s trying to make you jealous, okay? He’s being an idiot! Y/N, listen–” Seonghwa tried fruitlessly to reason with you, reaching for your wrist, only for it to slip out of his grasp as you made your way up to San and the unsuspecting woman.
Your bitter, frozen heart quelled you to toss the water at San, watching it splash onto the side of his reddened face, the shock of it sobering him up almost instantaneously, causing him to pull away from the woman and look at you, the weight of his faulty decisions hitting him square into the chest when he saw the tears in your eyes. “Y/N…I…I didn’t mean….I just…” Tears began to form inside his own eyes. “I just wanted you to see me.”
“I see you, San,” you whispered, your voice cracking underneath the weight of your emotional turmoil. “I’ve seen enough, actually.”
San froze in place, while what felt like cement sink to the bottom of his stomach, unable to get himself to stop you from grabbing a freshly opened bottle of booze from someone’s hands and walking away from him.
Your friend tried in vain to reason with you, getting hit with a death glare, before you stormed out. She turned to Seonghwa, whispering “Do something,” encouraging him to run over to San, grabbing him by the shoulders and temporarily keeping him upright.
“San, listen to me.”
San sniffled, his nose sporting a pink hue, as hot tears began to drip down his clammy face, sinking down to his knees, watching as Seonghwa sank down with him. “Seonghwa, I fucked up. I just wanted her to want me. I wanted her to get jealous and take what’s hers. I didn’t know how– a-and her, and Mingi– I just thought maybe if I–”
Seonghwa shook San a bit, his nostrils flaring, his fingers squeezing into his friend’s trembling shoulders. “Get a grip and listen to me!” As soon as San took in a shaky breath and let it out, Seonghwa cleared his throat. “You’re going to put some fucking clothes on, nut up, and go after her. It’s now or never.”
San wiped his eyes, trying to control his breathing. “B-but what do I say, Seonghwa? How can I possibly–”
Seonghwa suddenly pulled him into a hug, clutching the back of his head, feeling San slowly begin to relax against him. “You’re going be honest with her, San. Tell her what you’ve always wanted her to know. The world isn’t going to end after you do. She’ll still be there, and you’ll be safe.”
San clutched Seonghwa’s back, blinking away a few remaining tears. “You promise?”
Seonghwa pulled away, curling his pinky finger around his best friend’s, giving him a firm nod. “Promise.” Seeing the trust inside San’s sparkling eyes, Seonghwa reached up to ruffle his hair, smiling softly. “Oh, and give her that Christmas present you’ve been waiting for her to open.”
A small smile slowly apread across his splotchy face, before he gave Seonghwa a stern nod back, reaching his hand inside the pocket of his coat to feel what had been sitting inside and collecting dust for the entire year. It was time. Things weren’t going to end up like last Christmas. It would be different this time. He would make sure of it.
❆ ❆ ❆
With each passing minute, you sank a little further into the abyss of your memories, as well as the freshly fallen layers of snow that surrounded you, splashes of alcohol melting into it whenever you took a lazy swig and dropped the bottle back down at your side. “You dummy…” you mumbled to yourself, sniffling, your warm tears and body doing its best to combat the chilly environment around you.
Once you reached a street lamp, the warm light glowing onto your damp clothes, the memories of last year, that had once been frozen over suddenly flooded into your mind so quickly, you had to lower yourself onto the gravel beneath you, resting your back against the metal of the large buzzing lamp. “Shit…” You brought your wrist to your eyes, smearing a fresh wave of tears into your slightly damp hair, realizing you had been there before, the deja vu hitting you harder than the icy night wind hit your flushed face.
“San, what’s wrong?” You stood next to your boyfriend, watching him simply stare at the Christmas tree in front of him, his hands in his coat pockets.
San clutched onto the present he had spent weeks waiting to be custom-made and even longer just staring at it inside his apartment, wondering if it was enough, if he was enough, for someone like you.
San slowly shook his head, taking his hand out of his pocket to gently grab your wrist, leaning in to ask, “Can we talk?”
“No, we’re not doing this right now,” you told yourself out loud, smacking the side of your head and shaking it back and forth to hopefully send the memory packing, but it persisted, much like the snowfall around you.
“I don’t understand, San, we were fine! We’re okay. Why are you doing this?” you cried, trying and failing to keep San from leaving the cabin, unable to catch the corner of his coat sleeve until you were both under a street lamp, the light blinking occasionally.
San slowly turned around to face you for a moment, shaking his head, keeping his tears at bay. He didn’t know what he was thinking. How would he be enough for someone like you? Poor San simply couldn’t see the beauty he saw in you in his own self. “I just can’t, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I really am.”
“Can’t what? Can you just talk to me, San? I want to understand, San, please, talk to me,” you begged him, your heart sinking further with each step you took towards him as he continued to walk away. You stopped eventually, in the front of his car, your breath caught in your throat. “So, that’s it? You’re just going to leave? Just like that?”
San stroked his hair with a shaky hand in an unconscious act of self-soathing, tears pricking the corners of his eyes, looking off to the side, before gripping the door handle of his car, as well as the felt box inside his pocket with his other hand, only seeing a blurry version of you by the time he looked back up. How could he explain how afraid he was of you and the love you offered him? How his many walls, like ice, were impenetrable, until you melted them away? It frightened him, so much so that all he could say was, “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” before he got into the car and shut the door.
“You…dummy…” you repeated, this time in a whisper, taking another swig from the bottle and choking down the strong liquor, about to force yourself to down it when you heard what sounded like a set of boots quickly shuffling through the snow.
“Y/N,” San gasped, almost completely out of breath from running through the rough winter terrain, bending forward slightly with his hands on his knees to catch his breath, sending puffs of condensation into the air around you. “I have to – tell you something–”
“Oh, now you have something to say? After all this time? That’s rich,” you scoffed, wobbling a bit as you stood up, trying to put up a front like you had done earlier, though your facade had since melted away, your quivering lips and red, teary eyes on full display. “…Go on, San…”
San finally caught his breath, his heart still hammering away inside his chest, reaching up to his head to stroke his somewhat damp raven hair, trying to swallow the growing lump inside his throat. “Y/N, I…I should’ve said this a long time ago, instead of just leaving you the way I did…”
The longer you stared at him, the longer he felt his walls crumbling around him, figuring that he had no choice but to tell you what had always been lingering on his tongue, buzzing in his heart and mind, and swimming inside his thoughts each night when he was alone. He realized it was worth the risk of having to return to a cold, silent heart, a bitter soul, and even higher walls that he could box himself inside of. To him, you were worth anything.
Your anger slowly subsided at the sight of his serious gaze, his warm coffee-brown eyes studying you like nothing else existed besides you. In fact, nothing did, inside his world, except for you. “San…” you murmured, reaching out to touch his hand, but he already beat you to it, interlacing your cold fingers together.
“I love you, Y/N,” he admitted in the softest, most convicting voice you’ve ever heard from him, slowly pulling out the box he kept inside his coat, opening it to reveal a small gold ring with a jewel shaped like mistletoe, gently sliding it onto your finger when you held your hand out. “I love you so much, baby. So much it terrifies me.”
“Oh, San…” you sighed, breathless, bringing your hand to your chest from being so overwhelmed with emotion. After a moment, you reached for his hand, squeezing it, moving closer to him, his confession and gift warming you up more than a raging, crackling fire ever could. “San–”
“If I had just told you how I felt back then, I wouldn’t have hurt you the way I did.” He squeezed your hand back, his chapped, lower lip quivering. “I wish I could take it all back. It’s all I’ve been able to think about– How I wish I could just turn back time and–”
You silenced San’s words with a gentle kiss, letting go of his hand to wrap your arms around his neck, his arms following suit, closing around your waist. You broke the kiss after a moment to whisper, “I love you too, San. Always have.” You caressed his face, making sure he felt the love pouring out of your words when you promised, “Always will.”
San let out a trapped breath of air, hugging you against him, protectively clutching the back of your head, unable to stop everything he had held inside from spilling out of him all at once.
You simply held him in your arms and stroked the back of his head, not noticing when the light above you had flickered once and went out for a split second, only to shine brighter than it did before, the light warming the exposed skin of your flushed cheeks.
❆ ❆ ❆
San sat on his knees beside the crackling fire, adjusting a piece of firewood, watching the flame catch onto it and travel along the cedar, enjoying the warmth on his skin, eventually turning his head back to admire the sight of you bundled up on the couch with a plush blanket on your lap, your hands clasped around a cup of tea, your eyes admiring your twinkling ring, before you noticed his loving gaze.
“Sannie, come here, love,” you spoke softly, taking one finger off of the cup to beckon him to you, sliding the blanket off and putting the cup down after one more sip.
“Coming, baby.” Eyes sparkling, San inched his way over to you, still on his knees, fitting himself in between yours so that he could wrap his arms around your middle, resting his head against your chest. “Mm, you’re so warm.”
You ran your fingers through his soft, still slightly damp hair, waiting till he looked up at you to caress his cheek, a small sigh leaving your lips. “I’m sorry for what I did to you earlier. I really shouldn’t have reacted like that. It was hypocritical of me.” You ran your fingers gently along his jaw, noticing the way he leaned into your touch.
“No, baby, I’m sorry,” he replied, rubbing his hands up and down your sides, pouting. “I did…that to you in front of everyone…It was really shitty…I just couldn’t think straight after I saw you with Mingi.”
Your face fell, your fingers sliding back into San’s hair to play with it. “I’m so sorry. It wasn’t…I want you to know that there was no meaning behind it, love. I was just bitter. And drunk.”
“I know, Y/N. It’s all forgiven, I promise you.” San reassured softly, responding well to your light touches, nuzzling your hand when it came back to his cheek, his fingers sliding underneath your sweater to squeeze into your sides, sending a light shiver up your spine. “But, you know what, baby?”
“What, Sannie?” Your body temperature started to increase as San brought himself up higher so that you were face to face, body to body, his palms settling onto your bare back.
“There’s meaning behind this,” he whispered, bringing his hands up to cup your face, before gently pressing his lips onto yours. You shared a few firm, passionate kisses, your lips moving against one another’s, hearing San whisper something else that sent a wave straight into your core. “Can you feel it, baby? My love?”
“Yeah, show me more, Sannie,” you murmured against his lips, his mouth slotting back onto yours, almost making you forget to breathe when his tongue began to explore the inside of your mouth.
San sucked lightly on your tongue, before moving down to kiss on your neck, his hands moving further up to unclasp your bra from underneath your sweater. “Can I please touch you, baby?” he asked with a desperation that made his deep voice go up an octave higher.
“Yes, please, touch me,” you responded with just as much desperation, arching your back into his touch when he slipped his hands up the front of your sweater, moving your tits in slow, gentle circles, his lips and teeth attacking your neck and collarbone.
“You feel so good in my hands, baby, fuck, I missed you so much,” San exhaled into your neck, squeezing the roundness of your tits in between his fingers, squishing them together, and lifting them up, only to drop them back down into his palms, groaning all the while. He pulled back slightly, rolling the hem of your sweater up a bit, his hooded, dilated eyes focused solely on yours. “Can I take this off?”
A quick nod was all it took for him to lift your sweater up over your head, your bra falling to the floor. Not wanting you to be alone, he reached behind his head and pulled his own sweater off, his sculpted, muscular upper body bathed in glowing, orange light from the fire blazing away behind him. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N…” he sighed, admiring your body like he did the very first time he saw you bare in front of him.
“So are you,” you replied, slowly running your hands up along his abdomen and back down, his muscles flexing slightly underneath your touch, his eyes following your fingers as they unbuckled his belt, pulling his pants down to reveal his cute custom briefs. “My Sannie, so precious.”
San blushed, his goofy smile slowly disappearing as he unbuttoned your pants, biting hard into his bottom lip once he got them off of you. “Baby…” Unable to just sit there and admire you, he reached forward to cup your tits, running his thumbs back and forth over your stiff nipples, lust clearly running rampant in his head and body by the way he was looking at you with such clear hunger in his eyes, his cock hard and stiff against your core. “Can I taste you?”
“Baby, you don’t have to ask, okay? You can have me, in any way–” you started breathily, feeling San’s cock beginning to pulse against you. “–Every way, Sannie. Please, take care of me.”
San suddenly clutched your hips, slowly grinding his clothed cock into your heat, while his mouth closed around one of your nipples to suck on it, his hooded eyes looking up into yours, his tongue darting out to lap at your tit.
“Feels so good, your mouth on me,” you breathed out, running your fingers through his hair, clutching it tight when he swapped your tit for the other, his jaw lowering so that he could fit more of your squishy globe into his mouth, sucking on it desperately. “Sannie…please…”
Knowing what you wanted, San pulled back to spit onto your tits, watching it drip down, before leaning back in to lick it up, his tongue cascading up and down your now slick skin, still guiding your hips against him, your legs already hooked around his slim waist. Your whiny moans were like music to his ears, taking a break from sucking and licking you to say, “You like it messy, don’t you, baby girl? Makes you so wet for me, doesn’t it?”
“Uh-huh, now come here,” you could barely get out, before you grabbed his face and slammed your lips against his, your mouths and tongues working in tandem, strands of spit dripping down your chins, San’s hands squeezing tightly into your hips, grinding against you so quick, so desperately, you were both about to reach your highs just from that.
“Sannie,” you sighed against his lips, caressing his jaw, his cock rubbing against your cunt in just the right way, your body pulsing with the need to be filled.
“Y/N,” he sighed back, pressing his forehead onto yours, the both of you breathing in the same air, the thick, throbbing length of his cock rubbing deliciously along your clothed slit until your lower halves began to jolt, your moans and gasps crescendoing in unison. “Cumming? Are you cumming for me, baby?”
“Y–esss, Sannie, m’ cumming for you,” you cried out, holding onto him as tightly as you could, your nails digging lightly into his back, feeling his muscles contracting. “Cum for me too, please, baby, let me see you.”
San let out a choked, whiny moan, panting heavily, losing his quick, focused thrusts, opting for sloppy, abrupt movements, barely about to get out the word, “B–abyyy…”
You both fell apart in each other’s arms, your eyes never breaking contact, your combined arousal soaking through your respective undergarments.
Once you both caught your breath, San reached down to rub your pussy with two thick fingers, able to see your slit through your shiny, see-through panties, his cum-covered cock already twitching back to life. “Fuck, baby, look at that…you’re completely soaked.”
“Just for you,” you nodded, spreading your thighs open further, pulling the hem of your panties up a bit to emphasize your puffy cunt, your clit pressing into the soft cloth material.
“Oh my god, baby, I need to taste you,” San suddenly whined, squeezing his fingers into the softness of your thighs, lowering himself down to take a deep inhale of your arousal, his head going completely fuzzy, unable to keep himself from drooling onto your cunt.
You slipped your fingers into his soft hair, bringing his face against your heat, sighing at the feeling of his nose bumping against your clit as he took another deep breath, shuddering when he began to tongue your cunt through your panties. “That’s it, Sannie, feels so good,” you moaned, your praise going straight to San’s cock, causing it to strain against his stained briefs.
“Mmmn,” San moaned against your pussy, licking one slow, long strip up your slit to your clit, filled with so much need for you that he couldn’t keep himself from tearing your panties off of you with one quick tug, making you gasp and release more slick, his mouth already on you to lap it right up, his other hand shoving his briefs down so that his cock could spring out against his abdomen, pre-cum smearing across his tan skin. “This pussy is all mine, baby…mine to eat, mine to fuck….mine to fill, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Sannie, all yours, it’s all yours,” you answered, clutching his hair, desperately grinding your cunt against his tongue when he held it out, looking deep into his eyes that never left yours for a second, suddenly gasping out when San spread your hole open, sending a wad of spit inside before his agile tongue slipped inside of you.
San grabbed the undersides of your thighs and lifted your lower half up so that he could tongue fuck you as deep as humanly possible, letting out a pleased moan each time his tongue entered your soaked, pulsing hole. He kept going until you saw stars, going ‘uh-huhhh, uh-huhhh’ as soon as you began to shudder, your arousal squirting out and soaking his flushed face.
“My pretty baby came so hard for me,” San sighed, licking your wetness up from your sensitive cunt and his lips, before he brought you in for another sloppy kiss, letting you taste yourself.
The longer you kissed, the more you wanted him inside you, needed him to fuck his love into you until you couldn’t remember your own name. You needed him so badly, you didnt even realize what you were doing until you had found yourself pushing San down onto the fur carpet below and straddling him, sitting on his lap in a way that showed the both of you exactly where his long, veiny cock would reach inside of you once he filled you up. “Need you, Sannie. Need you now.”
“You can have me, baby.” San’s cock twitched against your abdomen, his hands rubbing your thighs, eventually lifting you up and down onto his cock, groaning at the feeling of your pussy swallowing his length inch by inch. “Fuck, princess, have all of me.”
Instinctively, San began to buck his hips up into you, filling you up so well, you felt a bit dizzy, encouraging you to hold onto his chest, still taking his cock deep inside your cunt like you were made for him.
San must’ve agreed too because he couldn’t keep from groaning out, “Look at you, babygirl, look at the way you’re taking me, taking my cock so deep–” He pressed one hand to your abdomen, feeling the bulge his cock made each time he fucked into you, driving the both of you crazy. “Your pretty pussy was made for me, baby. Made just for me. You’re mine, babygirl.”
“Yours.” You quickly lowered yourself down to kiss him, his hands sliding up and down along your body to feel your warm skin underneath his touch, eventually settling his hands on your cheeks, wiping a few of your tears away when you began to cry from the overwhelming pleasure.
“Cum for me, Y/N…You can do it…Fall apart for me, baby, ” San encouraged in between heavy breaths, slowing the movements of his hips down, instead filling you up in a slow and meticulous manner, drawing your intense orgasm out of you. “Yes, baby, that’s it, that’s it…”
“Sannnn, oh my god, San.” The longer you fell apart, the tighter your pussy constricted around San’s cock, causing him to throw his head back, sweat dripping down along his straining neck, his veins growing more visible when he gripped your thighs tightly. “Fill me up, Sannie. Need your cum inside.”
“Cumminggg, princess, oh my god, baby girl,” San groaned heavily, lifting you up and down on his throbbing length, before fully sheathing himself inside you, coating your walls with white.
Panting, you both gazed at each other’s sweat-covered faces and bodies, knowing internally that it wasn’t enough. Not nearly.
“Again?”
“Again.”
San didn’t waste any time gently pulling you off of him and climbing on top of you instead, spreading you open and filling you back up, sighing at the sight of your mixed arousal forming a ring around the base of his cock each time he pounded himself into you. “You’re so full of my cum, baby…so full of my cock, aren’t you, pretty girl?”
“So full for you, Sannie, don’t stop,” you gasped, hardly able to breathe with the way he had you folded up, your legs over his shoulders, his cock slamming so deep inside you that you swore he was hitting your womb.
“Wasn’t gonna,” San exhaled, chuckling softly, his lips curling up to give you a smile, his eyes creasing with amusement. “Need to show you my love.”
“Show me, baby,” you sighed affectionately, smiling back at him, giggling at the sight of his eyes lighting up, before you pressed a kiss to his lips.
The wet, sloppy sound of your bodies joining together over and over filled up the otherwise quiet cabin, along with your harmonious moans, the remaining pieces of firewood still crackling away beside you. Time seemed to stop completely. It was just you and him, coming undone together for what seemed like a lifetime.
You both ended up back on the couch, your limbs and bodies entangled, snuggling together underneath the cozy blanket, talking with each other about anything and everything until your eyelids grew heavy, leading you to drift off, your fingers clasped together.
Before you could fully fall asleep, you nuzzled your cheek against San’s chest, gently inhaling his comforting scent. He smelled like aftershave, warm cedar wood, and spiced cinnamon. It reminded you of your time there at the cabin, the memories you spent together, both good and bad, swirling together to form a comfortingly bittersweet concoction, one that you would consume in every lifetime.
“San,” you whispered softly into the darkness, the fire beside the both of you now ashes and smoke.
“Yes, Y/N?” he whispered back, his arms closing around you protectively.
You sighed against his skin, your body and heart melting like the snow would begin to do as well, once the sun came up. “I love you so much, San…” You lifted your head up, hovering above him so that you could look down at him, your fingers clutching his jaw, your expression so soft San thought you might cry. “I want to show you how to share some of that love with yourself one day.”
San smiled up at you, his eyes full of so much adoration for you, it threatened to spill out of him, his fingers running through your hair. “You showed me, Y/N. Through it all, behind every word, every action, I still saw it there. That’s why I put myself first and confessed to you.” He smiled softly, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. “I’m…not nearly as put together as I seem. I just love you so much, it makes me want to be strong. For you. And…for me.”
You didn’t realize you were crying too until you saw your teardrops land on his face and slide down his cheek, wondering if your icy heart had finally melted, and that was why there were so many tears escaping from your blurry eyes. “Oh, San, my sweet San, I’ll be here to watch you grow, I promise,” you murmured, hugging onto him and laying back down to rest your head on his chest, gently rolling the ring around your finger.
San’s hand came up from underneath the blanket to rest on top of yours. He squeezed your hand and you squeezed right back. “Promise?”
“Promise,” you repeated softly, closing your eyes, your heart at peace. “As long as you promise to watch me too.”
San closed his eyes too, a few more happy tears dripping past his cheeks, squeezing you just a little tighter than before. San felt safe. Whole. “I’d love nothing more, Y/N.”
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© kitten4sannie, 2023.
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pretty-little-mind33 · 7 months
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James Potter x slytherin!fem!reader
Summary: Playing Quidditch against your secret boyfriend is usually fun…
Genre: Fluff/hurt and comfort <3
Warnings: rivalry, chaser!captain!james, chaser!captain!reader, secret relationship (previous enemies to lovers), injuries, swearing, protective!james (my baby), short-ish
JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST
It had begun innocently.
You and James had promised not to tell anyone about your relationship for one week. Only that week turned into another, which eventually turned into four, and now it's much too awkward announcing to the entire school that you've been dating James Potter—the same boy you have publicly spent years saying you couldn't stand—for almost six months.
So, you never did, and neither did he.
However, the upside of your little arrangement was that now Quidditch is endlessly more entertaining.
"You ready, Cap?" Anne, your seeker, asks as you secure your gloves around your wrists. You nod and pull on the straps tightly. This is possibly the most important game of the season and you're determined to win.
You drown out the crowd's cheers when you mount your broom, adjust your hair, and fly up to where your lovely boyfriend is waiting for you to shake his hand.
James looks handsome, with his messy curls messier from the wind, and your heart flutters unintentionally. "Y/l/n," he says and balances on his broom as he grins.
"Potter."
He holds out his arm and looks around at his team and then at yours. "Good luck," James says and you know him well enough to hear his sincerity.
You take his hand, your breath hitching when his thumb caresses across your knuckles. It's such a quick brush you almost think you'd imagined it, but then James sends you a smile—that smile—and you know you hadn't imagined anything.
You drop his hand but return his smile. "May the best team win," your voice is smooth and you hear James chuckle as you fly away from him. You don't dare look back as you hide your smile and nod to your teammates.
The game starts normally, but as time progresses it becomes obvious this particular match is more competitive than usual. James's players become more flustered as the game continues, but you don't concern yourself with them as Slytherin is in the lead. Which, to your dismay, is more uncommon than you would like considering James's team is talented.
Annoyingly talented.
However, you should have been concerned considering when Danny Shepard hits the bludger directly at you out of pure anger, you're unprepared.
The front of your broom shatters from the force and you let out a loud scream when you jerk to the side, your broom malfunctioning as you plummet to the ground.
You can hear some of your teammates call out your name in worry but when you fall onto the grass and roll into the sidelines of a muddy ditch. Your eyes water as a piercing pain makes your head pound.
"Y/n!" James's calls and when you sit up, you see him land on the ground. He lets his broom fall without a care and sprints over to you. He kneels next to you and gently holds your head up, "Shit, shit, shit, shit," James sounds terrified. You blink. The world around him is spinning and his features are blurry.
"Help!" James screams and your heart leaps. What the hell is he doing? Everyone will know. You try to shake your head to tell him to shut up but you just wince in pain. James loops his arm around your back and concern etches his face when you cry out in pain from his movement.
You don't remember much after that. Just that some teachers and your teammates had rushed to your side to make sure you were okay. You weren't. You remember some of James's friends had to hold him back when the teachers hurried you to the Hospital Wing.
However, you wake up to him next to you. James is still in his Quidditch uniform, his head in his arms, his arm crossed beside your hips, as his chest lifts and falls lightly.
You blink, adjusting to the dim light from the lamp, and your shifting must wake James up because he looks up. Sheet lines are drawn on his cheeks and his voice is hoarse when he mutters, "Baby?"
"Hi," you whisper, forcing a small smile.
It's as if his entire face brightens and in his excitement James jumps up and wraps his arms around your shoulders. "Merlin, you're really okay! I was so worried," his voice sounds tense and when you wince a little, he moves back like he'd burned you. "Sorry, sorry," he blushes pink and slumps down onto the chair again.
"It's okay, Jamie," you smile at him and then ask, "What happened?" You look around you. It's dark outside. You must have been passed out for a few hours, at the very least.
"Shepard aimed his bludger at you out of anger," James hurries to explain, "He's off the team. Definitively. No arguments."
You smile at him a little but ask the important question, "You continued the game, did you?"
James nods solemnly, "Yeah, we did," he pauses as if debating something, "Gryffindor won," he says after a moment. Your eyebrows scrunch hearing him and you groan, cursing. James is quick to hold your hand. "But you'll beat us next time, lovie. It was such a close game."
You roll your eyes at him, turning your head to bury your face into your pillow. "You're such a twat," you whine and then look up at him through your hair, "this is why I disliked you."
James's smile falters, seemingly a little hurt. "I'm being serious! You played well. Your entire team did," he whispers, stroking his thumb over your hand.
You snort, "Oh, I know you're being serious, James. You're too kind. It's infuriating."
"Would you rather I rub my win in your face?" James asks with a raise of his brow. You sit up and glare at him. Admittedly, James has never been humble about his team winning a game but this was different.
You're his girlfriend now. His injured, and incredibly competitive, girlfriend.
"Well, nothing would have stopped you before," you say and James rolls his eyes. He leans in closer.
"Well, back then, I wouldn't have cared that one of my players hit you like that."
You send him a suspicious look.
"Okay, I would have cared, but not this much."
You smile. As much as you hate James for his undeniable chivalry and how annoyingly kind-hearted he is, if he wasn't then he wouldn't be the person you loved. And oh boy, do you love him.
"I want everyone to know about us," you say suddenly. James's eyes round like saucers. His hand finds yours and he tilts his head like a puppy, an endearing confusion gracing his features. He squeezes your hand in his.
"You must have really hit your head hard baby–"
"No," you interrupt him, your voice coming out stern, "I'm ready. I'm not ashamed. I've never been ashamed. I just didn't want anyone to know because if they did then they'd meddle, and if didn't know then you were mine. Only mine."
A smile curls James's lips. "What's changed?"
You look into his eyes. "Well, now I want everyone to know you are mine."
James raises and eyebrow and he chuckles. "So basically, you're claiming me?"
"Yeah, I guess I am."
With a smile, James nuzzles into you and then kisses your cheek, right under one of your bruises. "Good, because everyone already knows about us. When you passed out, I made too much of a scene and the game was up," he says sheepishly, "It's all anyone is talking about apparently."
You giggle as his breath tickles your skin and you hold his nape. "Fucking let them, I don't care. All that matters is that you're mine."
"I am yours," James confirms into your ear, "Wholeheartedly yours, Y/n."
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kingsandbastardz · 8 months
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So for basically my whole life I'd grown up with and was resigned to accept that the chinese concept of formal/nice clothing of my and the previous generation has been western clothes. So at any awards ceremonies or performances, entertainers would show up mostly in western suits/dresses and maaaaaybe you'll spot the occasional cheongsam if they're going for a Wong Fei Hong vibe. Which, you know, kinda sucks if you have any concept of western cultural imperialism in asia.
So when the hanfu revivalist movement started, I was waiting to see when it would enter the mainstream -- my hope was for fashion designers to integrate traditional/dynastic elements into their work and make it common place enough that I can buy this shit online for ME. Because I WANT.
Though some of the designs can be a bit hit or miss, I am LOVING what various stars and entertainers are wearing out and about now.
Anyway - here's a collection of Xiao Shunyao's modern hanfu inspired/hybridized stage outfits from the last couple years. For his MLC performances, his stylists seem to be borrowing inspiration from his Di Feisheng and possibly other character costume silhouettes.
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I'd been seeing a few comments about how his outfits play with gender - and some of his outfits do! But I think the interesting thing to discuss is from which standard is he playing with gender? Because from a western perspective, the things he does with his western suit tops, belting on top of the jacket for a tightly cinched waist, and the addition of a trailing skirt = femme. But if you're talking from a hanfu-hybridized pov, that's just a modern take on hanfu and having any of those elements is not inherently femme and would often read masc to me.
So these things aren't necessarily gendered because they exist traditionally in chinese men's clothing or costume designs (ie video games, comics, historical fiction illustrations and film, etc, so therefore in the modern lexicon of masculine/acceptable for men):
presence or lack of a skirt
silky, velvety, gauzy or sparkly material choice, esp in formal or stage clothing
short or long length of skirt
embroidery
flowers/floral/bird designs
folding fans
certain styles of makeup
beading, gold, tassels, jewels
non-chunky jewelry
headbands
widely flowing silhouettes
What XSY's stylists are doing with some western clothing items are interesting. I'm convinced there have been one or two western jacket tops made of thinner material that they're folding over the front, and belting down instead of buttoning (which then matches with his other outfits that are designed specifically to do this). Then they're adding a skirt, cloak or bracer element to it.
The western portions often bring a military minimalist feel which they balance with a more gauzy material in the skirt or cloak portions.
Things I think are playing with gender:
row 1 - image 1: red di feisheng-inspired outfit
The lace-up girdle is there to match the bracers in both material and style. And it's positioned to be similar to the heavy belt that Di Feisheng wears. HOWEVER. That style of girdle/corset-like clothing item can't be divorced from the modern idea of sexy leather corsets. So imo, this waist piece on that outfit was a choice. Especially when paired with his allergic-to-collars-higher-than-his-sternum necklines. And if you take into context how masculine yet female coded his character is in the drama, the whole look evokes that.
row 2, image 1: black western suit with belt on top, hat, cloak, black boots and not-visible but also a black tassel fringe skirt
Hat and cloak moves the intention of the outfit from western toward a more Asian slant, because alone, it looks like a western black suit with western heeled boots, cinched waist with a lady's belt (seated photoshoot) and western style tassel skirt. The suit top consists of a vest and a shrug-like sleeve portion that appears masculine at first glance. But take the shrug and pair it with the tassel skirt (I can't find the red carpet photos but here is a better view of the skirt when seated), and I think you got a look that's both intentionally edging toward the femme in a western sense but also confusing matters by hiding within the parameters of both western and chinese traditional male styling.
row 2 - image 2 : white asymetrical western jacket styled in a front fold-over style, gauze skirt, trailing pearl embellishments
The more traditional leaning version of this is the white outfit in row 3 that he wears to the Hi6 Hello Saturday variety show -- the skirt portion on that outfit is one I'd consider non-gendered. Row 1, images 2 and 3 are examples of masculine/neutral uses of gauze that plays with flow of form but isn't inherently femme. This stage outfit is very western-appearing masculine suiting, until you hit the skirt which is giving me long ballerina tie-on skirt with the additional swan/mermaid pearl strings. Imo, another example of deliberately using traditional masculine styling but switching it up with the combination of material choice and make that is feminine.
row 2, image 3: black space military boots, black suiting, black -silver ombre sequin trailing skirt and white gauzy shawl with black floral design
The over all design is going for a masculine military-feel. (think this outfit for shen langhun) But instead of a thicker military cloak, it's replaced with a woman's gauze shawl and a skirt that trails behind him very much like the back of a woman's formal fish-tail gown when he moves around. If you take into context Wang Herun's outfit is a white-silver sequined dress cut in a way to also give a space-military-queen vibe, imo they both coordinated their outfits to balance out with both femme and masc qualities.
Thoughts? I'm curious what others think about this.
While I wait for the CNY photoshoot for XSY's red and black look, here's him with his stage collaborators with a nice range of skirt lengths, period influences and material choices. The woman in the center is the one with the most military-fighter design out of the bunch. The dudes are all in variations of formal-wear-with-good-kicking-boots (and lots of crotch space).
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rubycruzin4abruzin · 2 months
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love, lies, and first times
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Summary: You were made to believe that your girlfriend, Hazel Callahan, lost her virginity to Stella-Rebecca some years ago. But when the truth is revealed during a game of truth or dare, your trust in her is shattered. What reason did she have to lie, and who did she actually lose her virginity to?
Pairing: loser!virgin!hazel x experienced!reader
Contains: mature language and content, lies, smut, fingering, oral, first time, kissing, drinking, tit play, both receiving, both giving, loser!hazel, sub!hazel, biblically!accurate!hazel, reader isn’t described as fem or masc
Word Count: 6k
A/N: soo one of my pet peeves when reading a hazel fic is when hazel keeps her rings on when fingering the reader and the reader likes it? Listen, I lost my virginity to someone who accidentally kept their rings on and it was painful. I had to ask them to take them off, highly unpleasant. I kinda make fun of that here, I hope some of y’all are ready to get called tf out ;)
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“Hazel, truth or dare?”
You squeezed your girlfriend’s hand as PJ sent her a wicked grin. The senior class of the Rockbridge Fight Club had just graduated high school, and the club leaders, PJ and Josie, had decided to celebrate by throwing a party—one last ‘hurrah’ for the founding members. Now, you all sat in a circle in Josie’s dim basement, sipping poorly mixed jungle juice from red solo cups while David Fincher movies played on a vintage television in the background. Truth or dare was, of course, PJ’s idea—perhaps in the hopes that someone would dare her to kiss Brittany.
Hazel returned your squeeze, the cool metal of her rings pressing against your warm skin. “Truth,” she answered.
PJ’s lips curled into such a shit-eating grin, you began to wonder if maybe she really did eat ‘literal shit.’ “Who did you lose your virginity to?”
You smiled, already knowing the answer. Early into dating, you and Hazel had exchanged ‘first-time’ stories: yours had been with some girl at summer camp when you were sixteen, and Hazel had confessed to experimenting with Stella-Rebecca freshman year. She stressed that it was nothing romantic, simply two friends getting their first times out of the way, and then swore you to secrecy for the sake of Stella-Rebecca’s privacy. However, Stella-Rebecca was sitting right there, and you doubted she would appreciate Hazel exposing their previous affair to the entire group.
Sure enough, Hazel’s eyes widened as a blush crept upon her cheeks. “Uhhh…”
Her hand seemed to stiffen within yours, tightening its hold as her rings indented your skin. You glanced across the circle at Stella-Rebecca, who stared at Hazel with an expectant (and somewhat oblivious) smile.
“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” you murmured to Hazel in an attempt to calm her, but her grip only further constricted.
PJ rolled her eyes. “Come on, Hazel, I gave you an easy one. Everyone knows you probably lost it to her,” she gestured towards you.
It was your turn to blush. “Actually, uh…” you looked towards your girlfriend, who seemed to have lost her ability to speak. “We haven’t really, uh…”
PJ gasped as her eyes almost popped out of her head. “No way! You two haven’t jacked each other off yet?”
It was true, you and Hazel had yet to take your relationship to that level. Not like you didn’t try, you had been dating for months, but Hazel seemed to shy away every time you so much as slipped a hand up her shirt. You knew you shouldn’t pressure her, but you were beginning to feel a bit unattractive—after all, Hazel had lost her virginity to a model. How could you possibly compare to that?
Josie, ever the peacemaker, decided to chime in. “Ok PJ, let’s back off a little bit…”
Hazel seemed to relax a bit at Josie’s words. She eased her grip, and you heard her exhale a breath you didn’t know she was holding.
“I have to admit, I’m a little curious myself.” Stella-Rebecca interjected, taking you by surprise. “Hazel never talks about her sex life.”
Your face contorted in confusion. Hazel tensed up again, but your attention was focused on the girl sitting across from you. “What are you talking about?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know, sometimes we’ll be hanging out and the topic of sex will come up, and I’ll share some hookup story and she’ll just kind of… change the subject or something.”
There it was again, that familiar burn of envy like acid in your veins. “Maybe she’s jealous,” you suggested, words unintentionally dripping with venom.
Stella-Rebecca furrowed her brow, her expression innocent. “I doubt Hazel would be jealous of my sex life… unfortunately, it has more men than I think either of us would prefer.”
”Well, you were her first.”
“What?!” Stella-Rebecca exclaimed, her jaw dropping in shock. PJ cackled maniacally, clearly having the time of her life.
Hazel’s hand was clamped so tightly around yours that her knuckles were white, but you barely noticed as you stayed fixated on Stella-Rebecca. “I mean… yeah… weren’t you?”
Stella-Rebecca furiously shook her head. “Hazel and I have known each other our whole lives, but never like that. Besides, I didn’t come out as a lesbian until after you two started dating. Why did you think it was me?”
You felt like a complete moron. “I don’t know…” you muttered, glaring at your girlfriend. She refused to meet your gaze, staring down at her lap while shades of crimson painted her features. Her hand was still clasped around yours, but you forcibly removed it, too hurt to want to be touched.
“Ok, so, Hazel’s a prude. Glad we got that out of the way.” PJ sneered.
Josie reached over and smacked her arm. “So are you, PJ. Hypocrite.”
“I am not a prude, I’m a virgin.” PJ corrected. “There’s a difference.”
The game continued once the tension died down. No one dared PJ to kiss Brittany, so when it was her turn again, she took it upon herself to dare Brittany to kiss her, which the poor girl blatantly refused. After that, PJ pretty much lost interest and the game dissipated, with everyone breaking the circle to go off and do their own things. Josie and Isabel were tucked away in a corner, failing to be discreet during a heated makeout session. PJ had joined Brittany on the couch, while Brittany sipped her drink and scrolled through her phone, trying to ignore Pj’s passes. The rest of the girls, including Hazel, huddled in front of the small television, chatting through the David Fincher movies. You, however, stayed back in an attempt to avoid your girlfriend.
“How could she lie to me like that?” You asked Brittany, plopping down on the couch between her and PJ. Rolling her eyes, PJ got up and left the basement, retreating upstairs for whatever reason.
Brittany seemed grateful for your company (and relieved at PJ’s disappearance). “I don’t know, babe,” she said, slinging her arm around you and pulling you close. “I’m sure she had a good reason.”
You groaned pathetically, resting your head on her shoulder. “I can’t think of any.”
Brittany leaned down and kissed the top of your head, sympathetic to your feelings. You glanced over to the television area and saw Hazel staring back at you, watching your interaction with Brittany. She looked sad, not jealous, just sad. Those big blue eyes that would look at you with so much love were now pained, filled with remorse. She sort of resembled a kicked puppy, and every instinct in your body told you to run over and hold her, comfort her, before you remembered why you were angry in the first place.
Before you could force yourself to break your shared gaze, PJ suddenly came bumbling down the stairs again, holding an empty beer bottle. “Look what I found in the kitchen trash!” She exclaimed, commanding the room’s attention.
Josie shook her head in disbelief. “Why were you in my trash?”
“Doesn’t matter! Now we can play ‘seven minutes in heaven!’” PJ declared, moving to the middle of the room and gesturing for everyone to get the circle back together.
Brittany groaned, all too aware that this was just another one of PJ’s stunts to try and get with her. It was your turn to be sympathetic.
“Don’t worry,” you whispered to her. “If the bottle starts to land on you during PJ’s turn, I’ll intercept it.”
Brittany mouthed a ‘thank you’ before taking your hand and walking with you to join the circle. This time, you sat directly across from Hazel, as far away from her as possible. You could feel her sad puppy-dog eyes boring into you, but you refused to meet her gaze.
“Alright,” PJ asserted, rubbing her hands together. “If there’s no volunteers to go first…”
“I think our host should spin first.” Isabel interrupted, looking towards Josie with what could only be described as ‘fuck-me’ eyes.
Josie giggled as she took the bottle from a reluctant PJ and spun it in the center. Everyone watched with anticipation as the bottle slowed, almost stopping in front of Annie before Isabel grabbed it and pointed it towards herself.
“Wow, what a coincidence!” Isabel exclaimed, much to Josie’s amusement.
The two held hands and disappeared into the small coat closet under the basement stairs. PJ rolled her eyes. “It’s no fun if you pick your partners!” She yelled after them.
One thing about 'seven minutes in heaven’ that no one talks about is what the rest of the group does during the seven minutes. Do you talk? Keep playing? Listen in? You certainly didn’t know, and apparently neither did anyone else—with the exception of PJ, who set her phone timer before sitting with her ear pressed to the door.
“So… what’s everyone’s summer plans?” Stella-Rebecca asked in an attempt to fill the silence.
Annie shrugged in response. “Mostly working as a counselor for Vacation Bible School and protesting outside Planned Parenthood. Same old, same old.”
“Would you guys shut up over there?” PJ hissed from across the room. “I’m trying to listen to them fuck!”
Eventually, seven agonizing minutes finished with the screech of PJ’s timer. “Times up, lovebirds!” She shouted, throwing open the door.
The ‘lovebirds’ stumbled out of the closet in a fit of giggles. Both of their clothes were wrinkled, hair disheveled, and Isabel’s lipstick was smeared all over Josie’s mouth. The couple was immediately met with cheers and jeers from the rest of the party as they made their way back to the circle.
“Wow, thanks for warming up the closet for us you two,” PJ snickered. “Now, as for who’s next…”
“Hazel, why don’t you spin?” Isabel suggested, seizing the bottle before PJ could and passing it to Hazel.
“Oh, come on!” PJ complained, having been cockblocked yet again.
The group all shared a chuckle at PJ’s dismay, especially Brittany who was laughing so hard tears began to form. PJ could do nothing but pout until the laughter died down and Hazel reached into the center, spinning the bottle.
Round and round the bottle spun, the group watching with bated breath. The hollow glass rotated, nozzle slowing, slowing until it finally stopped on no other than… you. All previously dissipated tension immediately resurfaced as the room seemed to still, everyone recalling the incident from earlier.
“Yeah, you guys! Go in there and give us absolutely nothing!” PJ sneered, earning another smack on the arm from Josie.
You stared at the bottle, nozzle pointing directly at you, no question about it. Through your peripheral vision, you could see Hazel nervously fidgeting with her rings, unsure of how to proceed.
“Maybe we could… play something else?” Brittany suggested gently.
PJ clapped her hands together. “Nope! Rules are rules. Get in there, you two.” She seized your hands and dragged you to the closet, throwing both of you in before slamming the door.
Hazel kept her gaze fixated on her fidgeting hands while you pretended to be very interested in a small tear on one of the hanging coats. After what felt like an eternity, you checked your watch. Only twelve seconds had passed. You let out a frustrated sigh. “Well, one of us has to say something.”
She glanced towards the door. “How much do you wanna bet PJ is listening in on us?”
You shot her a glare, not finding her joke funny.
“I’m sorry…” Hazel muttered, lowering her head again.
At that moment, all of the hurt, anger, and confusion you had kept bottled up to save face rose to the surface. “Why would you lie to me?” You demanded, using her own line against her.
Her face crumpled upon hearing the true betrayal behind your question. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to…”
“Hazel, you lied about losing your virginity to Stella-Rebecca. That’s such an odd thing to lie about, it doesn’t make any sense…”
“Ok,” Hazel cut you off. “I didn’t have sex with Stella-Rebecca...”
“No shit,” you spat. “So what, you like, want to?”
“No!” Hazel insisted. “Stella and I are friends. I’ve never thought about her that way.”
“Then why have you had me believing you slept with her?” You hissed, a weak attempt to keep your voice down.
She was at it again, fiddling with those goddamned rings. “I don’t know, I just…” she swallowed, hesitating. “You told me about your first time… at summer camp… and you asked me about mine. We had just started dating. I didn’t want you to think I was inexperienced.”
“Hazel,” you sighed. “You are inexperienced.”
“I mean, like, I didn’t want you to see me as an immature little baby who didn’t know what she was doing, so I panicked and made something up. I shouldn’t have, I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean to hurt you, I swear.”
The edges of your anger blurred as you realized fear had driven your girlfriend to a desperate lie. Poor Hazel, she looked shrunken, almost. She had drawn into herself, vulnerability exposed like a house of cards in the wind. You reached out and gently lifted her chin, forcing her to look up at you and taking her by surprise.
“Hazel,” you cooed. “It’s ok that you’ve never had sex before, I don’t care.”
“Really?” She asked.
You nodded. “Of course I don’t care. I just thought you’d been pushing me away because you didn’t find me that attractive, but…”
“What?!” Hazel’s exclamation took you aback, making you drop your hand. “That’s not it at all! Shit, I was just worried I’d mess up somehow, I’ve never been more attracted to anyone in my entire life! I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. No, really! Every time I look at you, I’m like ‘holy fuck, how did I get so lucky…’”
You cut her off by crashing your lips against hers. Her body initially tensed at the sudden contact, but soon melted into yours as it had done so many times before. Your hands found the nape of her neck as you drew her closer, pressing her up against you as much as possible. Lip-locks with Hazel were familiar to you, but never had one been so passionate, so rough and yet reassuring at the same time.
When you finally pulled away, both of you were gasping to catch your breath, realizing you had inadvertently chosen each other over oxygen. You gazed upon Hazel, studying her flushed cheeks, her lustrous lips, and the way her shirt collar sat askew atop her shoulders. With the way she stared back, you could tell you appeared just as rumpled.
“Well that’s good to know,” you giggled, reaching out to fix her collar. “Listen, Hazel, you’re a virgin. So what? I don’t care who you have or haven’t been with before. If you’re not ready yet, that’s perfectly fine, really. I would never pressure you into anything.”
Back at it again with those fucking rings. What the hell could you have possibly said this time?
“That’s the thing…” she began, her gaze fixated to the floor again. “I think I… I think…”
“Hazel…” you whispered her name, placing two fingers on her arm and making her shiver.
“I… I think I am ready. I’ve been ready. For a little while now.”
Your eyes widened at her confession. “Seriously?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I want you… uh, I mean… I want to do it… with you. I just… I don’t… I don’t know how to…” each sputter was paired with imperceptible hand gestures, desperate to communicate something she didn’t have the words to say.
“To… initiate it?” You asked.
“Yes! That!” She sighed, thankful you knew her well enough to understand her babbles. “I mean, should it be planned? Spontaneous? Do I just walk up to you and say ‘hey I wanna have sex?’ Where do I do it? How? Can I just blurt it out of nowhere or does something have to be happening first? If so, then what?”
“Hazel…” she was rambling again. You placed your hands on both sides of her head, smoothing her hair. “There’s no right way to initiate it, trust me. You can just do whatever you’re most comfortable with.”
She met your gaze again, head still caught between your palms. There was something different behind her eyes, though, something besides remorse or even vulnerability. Her brilliant blue’s seemed darker somehow, almost… hungry. You finally caught on when she snuck a glance at your lips, and closed the distance between you.
This kiss was different from the last: still passionate, but gentler, lighter, as if you were exploring for the first time. Her hands found your waist, loosely gripping the fabric of your top. You reciprocated, running your thumb over the hem of her tank top and accidentally brushing over a patch of bare skin. She flinched at the unfamiliarity, and you pulled away.
“Are you ok?” You whispered, forehead pressed against hers. She nodded, half-lidded eyes not leaving your lips. “Can I…?” Your fingers hesitated just under her tank top, barely grazing the skin of her stomach. She didn’t respond. She didn’t need to. For the first time in her life, she let her body do the talking as she pressed into you, capturing you in another kiss.
Slowly, surely, your fingers inched up the underside of her tank top. You took the time to trace little shapes into her skin, moving from her waist, to her stomach, to the underside of her rib cage. Her breath hitched with each new touch; Hazel had always been ticklish, but the way your fingertips danced along her torso made her shiver rather than squirm. As her comfortability levels grew, your hand traveled up, further, further…
“Holy shit, they were really gonna fuck!”
PJ’s grating voice startled you apart like an unwelcome infomercial in the dead of night. You glared at your intruder standing in the wide-open doorway, a wicked smirk plastered on her face. “Lose track of time?”
Hazel tugged at your wrists, and it wasn’t until that moment when you realized your hands were still under her tank top (much to PJ’s entertainment). With a mumbled apology, you detached yourself and helped her smooth out the fabric bunched around her ribs. Both of your faces were burning with a mixture of embarrassment and fluster.
“You could’ve knocked, you know…” Hazel muttered, watching the floor as she left the closet.
“I could’ve,” PJ admitted. “But where’s the fun in that?”
The rest of the party watched with amusement as you and Hazel exited the closet. Your flushed features and darting glances did not go unnoticed, prompting a series of snorts and stifled laughter. Forget David Fincher, you two were your own movie.
“So, I assume it’s safe to say you’ve made up?” Josie asked cheekily, squeezing Isabel’s hand, who bit the inside of her mouth to keep from laughing.
“We sure did,” you said with a sheepish grin.
Brittany couldn’t help but snicker. “Guess that explains your rosy cheeks.”
You exchanged looks with Hazel as an idea suddenly popped into your head. “Actually, Hazel’s cheeks are warm because she doesn’t feel too good.”
“I don’t?” Hazel asked.
“You don’t,” you repeated, shooting her a look. “In fact, oh my, I do feel warm! We must be coming down with something.”
“Wait, but I don’t feel…” Hazel seemed confused until she met your gaze and understood your plan. She raised her hand to her forehead, making a big show of collapsing into the basement wall. “Oh, woe is me! It is true! I seem to have fallen ill! Cough, cough, wheeze!”
You had to fight the corners of your mouth to keep from curling. Jesus, this girl couldn’t act for shit.
“Yes… anyway we need to leave. Right now. We don’t want to get any of you sick.”
“Oh, I’m sure that’s the reason,” Josie sent you a knowing smirk.
You grabbed Hazel’s hand and ran with her up the stairs and out of the basement, the partygoers calling after you with whoops, hollers, and exaggerated kissing sounds. As the basement door creaked shut behind you, the last thing you heard was PJ’s whiny complaint. “No fair! Hazel gets pussy before I do?”
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The two of you rushed hand-in-hand from Josie’s front door and piled into Hazel’s car, you in the passenger seat as usual.
She turned to you, keeping her free hand on the wheel. “Are your parents home?”
“They never are.”
Hazel had to release your hand to put her car in reverse, pulling out of the driveway like a madwoman. You anticipated her fingers intertwining with yours again, but instead, she reached over and rested her hand on your upper thigh. Her thumb gently brushed across the denim of your jeans, sending flutters through your stomach. Hazel was getting bold.
The drive back to your house was nothing but perilous. Hazel had always been a reckless driver, but the sharp turns and disregarded stop signs were wild even for her. Arriving at your house, she parked haphazardly, jumping out before rushing to throw open your door.
“Well that was fast,” you teased as Hazel helped you out of the car. “Looking forward to something?”
Words seemed to fail her as she silently took your face in her hands, kissing you with the desperation of a castaway grasping for a lifeline. She had you pressed into the passenger door, hips flush against yours. Your palms rested on her collarbone, feeling her rapid heartbeat.
You gently pushed her away, almost swearing you heard the faintest whimper leave her lips. “Why don’t we take this inside?” You suggested, to which Hazel could only nod.
The two of you stumbled into your house, barely taking the time to break away from each other to see where you were going. When you eventually made it to your bedroom, you slammed the door behind you and Hazel thrust you against the white wood. You relaxed into her, expecting more kisses, but looked up to find her features filled with apprehension.
“Hazel…” you whispered, moving your hands to her shoulders. “Is everything ok?”
“Y-yeah…” she stuttered, her gaze dropping slightly. She had seized you by the hips, fingers hooked in your belt loops, hands beginning to tremble.
You gently lifted her jaw. “Are you sure you’re ready for this? It’s ok if you changed your mind…”
“No! No, please. I need you so bad you have no idea…” she cut you off, her confession making you blush. “I just… I don’t… I mean… I’ve watched some porn and read fanfiction but…”
“Hazel, sex isn’t anything like porn or fanfiction.”
“Oh fuck, it isn’t?” She asked in disbelief, her wide eyes making you chuckle.
“Why don’t you let me lead, then?” You suggested, calming her with a tender kiss on her jawline. “Go lay down for me, yeah?”
Hazel did as she was told and moved to lie down on your pale-blue bedspread, a favorite of yours because you thought it matched her eyes. You stayed behind, stripping down to a bra and panties as Hazel watched with unblinking eyes.
“Relax, my love,” you purred, climbing onto the bed and hovering over her. You shifted, hips brushing against hers momentarily, causing Hazel’s eyelids to flutter and a sigh to leave her lips. A smirk crossed your face. “Sensitive, are we?”
Hazel could barely speak through her pathetic little whines. “P-please…”
You planted a sweet kiss on her lips before trailing down to her neck, exploring her soft skin, discovering unknown sensitive spots: her earlobe, the nape of her jaw, along her collarbone. Your fingers flitted underneath the hem of her tank top, creeping up, up, until you felt the cool nylon of her sports bra against your palm. Hazel shuddered at the newfound sensation, and you pulled back.
“Still good?”
“Good,” she breathed. “Yes, good.”
You hooked your finger under the neck of her tank top, coaxing her to sit up slightly. Pinching her shirt collar, you slid it off her shoulders before lifting the bottom of her tank, stopping with it bunched under her armpits. She finished the job for you, and you tossed the shirts aside, not caring where they landed.
Now she was left in a sports bra the color of fog, her nipples erect and poking through the fabric. You slipped two fingers under her band, looking to her for approval. She nodded, letting you peel it off until her tits sprang free.
“Holy shit, Haze,” you muttered, practically drooling at the sight of her naked breasts. Underneath the compressive sports bras, hidden beneath layers of baggy clothing, Hazel had perfect tits: round, firm, with little pink buds sitting like cherries on top of two scoops of vanilla ice cream. “How could you keep these from me?”
Hazel let out a laugh that sounded more like a breath, not entirely sure how to respond. Leaning down, you took one of the swollen buds in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it while palming her other breast. Hazel threw her head back against the pillow, letting out cries of pleasure while her hands entangled themselves in your hair. You took your time, caressing, suckling, exploring every inch of her bare chest, memorizing each unique detail: a freckle on her décolletage, a vaguely mushroom-shaped birthmark hidden beneath her left breast.
She was, for lack of a better word, perfect. You had been so distracted, so deeply buried in her cleavage, that you hadn’t noticed time slipping away until you felt her pressing down on your head. Your name flew from her mouth in a desperate gasp. “I can’t… p-please… keep going…”
“So impatient,” you teased, mouth releasing her nipple with a pop. Hazel only whined in response, bucking against your stomach, hips urgently searching for some kind of release. You smirked, leaving her breasts and peppering kisses down her stomach, stopping when you reached the waistband of her gym shorts.
“Off?” You asked, though it was merely a formality at this point; you already knew the answer. She made a noise of approval, a mix between a groan and a squeak, and shifted her hips to allow you to slip them off her legs.
Now, there stood nothing between you two but the thin cotton of her slate-colored boxers. She was writhing, silently begging you to rip them off and have at her, but you couldn’t help but stop and admire the growing spot of wetness that had accumulated through the fabric. Her hips sputtered, shook, pairing with her pitiful whimpers to plead for attention. You, however, had other plans.
“What’s your rush, Haze? We’ve got all night, don’t we?” You were teasing her now, a wicked grin appearing as your fingertips danced along the elastic band of her boxers.
Her raised pelvis came crashing down onto the bedspread as she cried out in defeat. “Fuck… please… just take them off…”
You frowned, mocking her, using your thumb to gently encircle her clothed cunt. Her head sank further into the pillow, broken moans falling out of her mouth like beads from a shattered necklace.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Hazel. Do you always get this wet?” You asked in disbelief. Her boxers felt like a saturated sponge.
“I don’t know,” she sighed, fighting to keep her speech intelligible. “I don’t think so, maybe. I… I need you… really bad…”
“Need me?” You replied cheekily, wrapping your fingers around the elastic and slipping her boxers off in one quick motion.
Your girlfriend's naked body was now fully on display before you. You had to take a moment, admiring details of the areas she had never let you see before: a small mole on her outer thigh, or the way her hip bones protruded to form little ridges across her pelvis. Her chest heaved, lips parted ever so slightly as she awaited your next move.
“Hazel?”
“Y-yeah?”
“Are you ready?”
She took in a breath, blowing it out big. “More than anything.”
You positioned your head between her legs, leaving feather-light kisses up and down her inner thighs. Her head tossed from side-to-side, body struggling to keep still with your mouth so close to where she needed you. Testing the waters, you ghosted a kiss over her clit, watching as she shuddered upon contact.
God she was sensitive.
Finally taking mercy on her, you licked a long, broad stripe up the length of her cunt, tongue lingering on her clit perhaps a bit longer than necessary. The cries that erupted from her throat were enough to send shocks through your own body. You moved to straddle her leg, grinding against it while you ate her out—a shift not going unnoticed by Hazel, only spurring her forward.
“Ohmygod… Ohmygod fuck…” your name tumbled from her lips amidst her breathless moans. She squirmed under your touch—every lick, each roll against her shin setting her body ablaze. A smirk tugged at your lips as your mouth created a vortex around her clit, causing her eyes to roll back like a slot machine landing on the jackpot.
You didn’t get to do this for very long before her plush thighs enveloped your head. “W-what…? It feels… I think, I think I’m…”
“Breathe, baby girl,” you cooed, never taking your mouth off of her. “Just relax, cum for me. Fuck you’re doing so well…”
Her hands flew back to your scalp, legs shaking, guttural cries erupting from her throat as her orgasm consumed her. Fuck she sounded pretty. Her thighs kept you right where she needed you, only loosening once her breathing evened and she slowly came back to reality.
You lifted your head once her legs collapsed onto your bedspread, her bones feeling like jello. “Was that alright, Haze?” You asked, crawling back up to lay next to her.
“Wow,” she sighed, pupils dilated into big black buttons. “Just wow.” She laid there a moment, silently recovering, wearing a dazed, blissful expression. But then her face shifted into something sour, almost uneasy. “I don’t, I mean… I don’t know how…”
“It’s fine,” you ensured.
“It’s not,” she argued. “I mean, you were… and on my leg…”
“Hey, Hazel,” you brushed her hair back, letting your fingers fall. “We don’t have to do anything else. Tonight was about you.”
“No, no. Please, I wanna fuck you so bad, I’ve been daydreaming about it for so long.”
You couldn’t have blushed harder if you tried.
“I just… I haven’t… like you did with that girl from summer camp. What if I try and it isn’t anything like that?”
“Hazel…” you reached for her face, kissing her reassuringly. “It won’t be anything like it was with her.”
Her face fell. “It won’t?”
“Of course not,” you replied. “What I did with her, it was just sex. Nothing like this, this is completely different.”
“Why?”
You had to gather up the courage to say your next words. “Hazel… I’m in love with you.”
She finally faced you with wide eyes. “You’ve never said that before.”
“I know,” you said. “I’m saying it now.”
That blissful expression from earlier returned to her pretty face. “I love you too.”
You giggled, and she pulled you into another kiss. Her weight shifted until you were on your back, her body covering yours, legs on either side of your hips. She tried to emulate you, peppering kisses down your neck and chest until she reached the satin cusp of your bra.
“How do… uh… I only wear sports bras…”
You sat up, guiding her hands around to your back and helping her unhook your clasp. She slid it off your shoulders and tossed it aside without care, her attention fixated purely on the newly-exposed flesh in front of her. “Holy fuck,” she exclaimed on a sigh.
Another smirk crept across your face. “What? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think these were the first you’d ever seen!”
She shot you an unamused look before diving in, suckling at one of your breasts and pawing at the other. Her eyes stayed unblinking, watching you as your head relaxed further into the pillow and soft sounds spilled from your lips.
“Am I doing ok?” She asked in a whisper.
“More than,” your voice came out soft and sweet, causing the tips of your lover’s ears to tint pink.
Hazel trailed downward, her soft lips leaving kisses all the way down to your stomach, her tousled hair tickling your skin. She paused at your cotton panties, her thumb passing over the fabric with uncertainty.
“Need help taking those off too?” You quipped.
“Definitely not,” she replied, seizing the waistband and sliding them off your legs.
Hazel gazed upon your naked body as if she were an artist, and you her masterpiece. Her hands hesitated before resting on your ribs, fingernails gently scratching down the length of your sides. She bent down, planting kisses on your hip bones, reveling in your quiet whimpers.
“Hazel…” you purred, and she got the message. Her hand slipped between your legs, fingertips tracing your entrance before sliding inside.
“Ouch,” you hissed, sitting up in pain.
Startled, Hazel pulled her hand back. “W-what? What happened? Shit, did I hurt you?”
“Kinda…” you paused, trying to pinpoint the discomfort. It almost felt like she had unraveled a paperclip and impaled your core—an unpleasant sensation you couldn’t explain until you saw…
“Hazel,” you exclaimed with a laugh. “You kept your rings on!”
“Yeah…” she muttered, cradling the hand that burned you. “I thought you liked my rings.”
“I love your rings,” you assured. “Just not inside me.”
“But the characters in the fanfictions I’ve read keep their rings on, and the feedback is always positive!”
There was nothing you could do to stop yourself from giggling at her protest. “Hazel, those fanfictions are written by people who probably haven’t experienced the real thing. Trust me, rings up there? Uncomfortable at best.”
Hazel nodded, mumbling a sheepish apology and removing her rings before slipping two fingers back in. “Better?”
“Much.”
With her confidence temporarily shaken, Hazel began to move against you, slowly, steadily, studying your facial expressions. Each gasp, every subtle twitch helped her gauge what you wanted, what you needed from her. She may have gone in blind, but she was a gifted learner, and you her favorite subject.
Soon after Hazel regained her certainty, you started to feel that familiar ache within your core. “Hazel… doing so good… my pretty girl… I’m so…”
She perked up, still keeping her hands where you seemed to want them. “Really? You mean it? Should I do anything different?”
You were about to shake your head, but stopped when you got an idea. “Do this with your fingers,” you demonstrated by curling your own.
She followed suit, reveling in your little mewls when she scratched against your g-spot.
But you weren’t finished yet. “Fuck… Hazel… almost… now just move your palm…”
You didn’t even get to finish your sentence. Hazel curved her palm, stimulating your clit, and your orgasm crashed over you like a flash flood breaking through a dam. Your back arched, legs shaking, chest heaving as you rode out your climax. Hazel wouldn’t, couldn’t look away; a moment ago she had been naive, inexperienced, but now the prettiest girl she’d ever seen was creaming all over her fingers, and it was all her own doing.
Her movements halted at what she hoped was the right moment. She withdrew her fingers, curiosity overtaking her as she popped them into her mouth and moaned at the taste, instantly regretting not going down on you. Her mind swirled, flashbacks of what just happened mixing with the oblivion of what to do next.
“Hazel,” you said finally. “Come lay down.”
She crawled back up to you, laying her head on the pillow. “Did I do ok?”
You giggled. “You did perfect.”
A grin spread across her face, reaching from ear-to-ear. Her eyelids were already drooping. “I’m so tired.”
“Me too,” you rolled over, wrapping your arm around her waist and nuzzling into her hair. “Go to sleep, my love. You’ve had a big night.”
She snuggled up closer to you, muttering a barely-perceptible ‘I love you’ before drifting off to sleep.
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yuwuta · 10 months
Text
mine. — inumaki toge
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❝i just wanna say you’re mine, you’re mine; fuck what you heard, you’re mine, you’re mine.
000. inumaki toge + reader
001. fluff, non-curse/college au, slightly suggestive but barely, inumaki uses sign language and speaks like two actual verbal words
002. baby sized drabble, barely even 1k words
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Toge would consider himself patient. He doesn’t mind waiting in long lines for the release of a new game, has no problem when the trains are delayed because it means he can sit and relax in the station a little longer, can sit for hours on end doing nothing and not be bored—but his tolerance for watching other people mess with his girlfriend is extremely low.
He reasons that you continue the conversation because you think it’s merely friend and polite to do so, and you’ve always been such a pleasantly happy drunk. But Toge knows this conversation isn’t friendly on the other end—and it’s not some protective boyfriend instinct, either, he has solid evidence of this idiot talking about you to his other idiot friend in front of Toge during lecture, with no knowledge that he was behind them, or that you are very not single.
(“She’s gorgeous, bro, look,” the kid muses, showing his friend your Instagram profile, “She’s in my bioethics class, and she’s easily the hottest girl. Smart, too. Little bit of a teacher’s pet, but I don’t care, she’s beautiful. A solid eight, for sure.”)
Toge knows that if this guy ever got his head out of his ass and ever bucked up the balls to actually ask you out instead of using roundabout flirting tactics and hopelessly pining over you during lectures, that you’d turn him down. He isn’t worried about losing you, and he doesn’t doubt your love for him. It does, however, concern him that there are people who believe they have a shot with you in the first place. He can’t possibly let that carry on. 
(Also, an eight? How could this guy call you beautiful, but say you’re an eight? It doesn’t equate—Toge doesn’t believe in rating women, but you’re not an eight. You’re a fifteen on a scale of one to ten; a shining star amongst a sea of planets; the love of his life). 
His fuse is about to blow when the guy touches you, reaches for your hair and carefully twirls a bit between his fingers. He knows that move; he knows the excuse was probably that there was something stuck to your hair, but Toge didn’t see shit. He’s had enough, and promptly bulldozes through Maki’s small apartment to reach you. He’s not sure if he’s making a ruckus, or if you can sense him coming, but you turn your head in his direction, a smile spreading on your face before cheering, “Hey, Toge! Do you—”
You’re cut off by a tug on your shirt, firm and impatient—but you’re not moving yet, not quick enough, so he does it again. Your eyes seem to light up with realization. You turn back to acknowledge the boy, and that’s really when Toge really loses it. All he hears is the stupid, desperate pitch of the kid’s voice sputtering out something about finding you later and grabbing drinks for you both, even as Toge’s dragging you through the crowd.
You let yourself be pulled by Toge’s greedy hand. It’s not all that far, just into a corner of the hallway, next to a closet where Maki keeps her cleaning and kickboxing supplies. He’s tempted to pull you into her bedroom, but he’s not up for being bruised for a week. 
“You okay?” you question, voice sweet and genuine—and it makes him grimace, because you really didn’t have a clue. Not one at all. 
Toge huffs, drops your hand to sign; using his left hand to circle around his face slowly, tapping at his chin. You understand, but only partially, given the slight tilt of your head and question that follows, “Beautiful? That’s why you’re upset?” 
He blinks slowly, shaking his head and flailing his arms in the direction of the living room. You follow his hands, down the hall then back to his face, but he can tell you still don’t get it. He tries again, pointing to you, then repeating his previous sign and adding another, and he can see the realization spread across your face, followed shortly by a bashful chuckle. 
“Too pretty? Me?” you ask to confirm. Toge nods his head, all serious and steely eyes, but you throw yours back with a hearty laugh this time. He crinkles his eyebrows, repeating his initial signs this time. Hdoesn’t know what’s so funny, if you’re laughing because you’re flattered or you find him ridiculous or something in between, but Toge means it either way; wants to ingrain it into you, just how beautiful you are.
So, he raises his hands again, when your eyes have met him again, and goes slower this time—pulls his mask down for good measure, so you can read his expression more clearly—to sign one simple word: “Mine.”
You tilt your head to the side again, and now Toge is the one laughing. He thinks you might be a little more drunk than you’ve let on, or maybe you just want him to indulge you. Either way, he has no problem repeating himself, doesn’t mind telling you again and again and again. 
He takes a step forward, leaving mere inches between you. You seem much smaller than him like this, still giggling, but he doesn’t mind. Toge reaches for your rest again, turning your palm upward and using a single finger to trace the letters of the word “mine,” onto your skin.
Your laughter comes to a halt when you verbalize his words, “Mine?” Toge nods, turning your wrist again to lace your hands together, pushes yours against the wall, uses his free one to cradle your cheek. He adores the way your pupils get bigger, the way your lips part slightly in anticipation. It’s his turn to smile, pulling you towards him for a kiss and ghosting his words over your lips, “You’re mine.”
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rafebaby · 7 months
Text
Frat!Rafe has his target locked in and it's shy!reader (pt. 2)
part one / part three
Writer's note: And then here it is: part two. Can you believe it? Obviously it's not the last. I would really like to hear your thoughts and ideas on this. I have some of my own, already typed out a little bit too but still struggling to choose exactly what way I really think works best. Love y'all and thank you for your support xxx rafebaby
After your "moment" with Rafe, you decided to lock yourself in your room all weekend. Hoping it would all pass by as a bad dream. But it didn’t pass by. No matter how hard you wanted to forget about it all, memories of him and you and what happened, repeated itself in your head over and over and over again. You felt ridiculous.
This was Rafe Cameron, for heaven's sake – a guy who had every girl swooning over him. You had nothing against him, but this was literally stupid. It's as if he planted a parasite in your brain, and the parasite is him and now you're kind of doomed to have these feelings that you don't really want yourself having.
So as Monday comes around, you have a hard time convincing yourself to get out of the house to go to the first class of the week. It also happens to be the only day of the week none of your friends are in your class. But Rafe is.
Normally that wouldn’t mean a whole lot to you, but today it has your anxiety peaking. You're afraid to see him, afraid of him seeing you, afraid of embarrassment and probable rumors already being spread around campus. Maybe someone took pictures, maybe they recorded it. Not that you deem yourself so incredibly interesting but stories including campus royalty like Rafe spread like wildfire. Yet missing education for a boy and as a result of a game of ‘spin the bottle’ is something you can not justify to yourself. 
You walk into the lecture hall a few minutes before the start of the class, head facing downwards, avoiding any kind of interaction. You're greeted by the professor who is already setting up her presentation. You look up at her briefly and smile before you turn to the room to find yourself a seat, but are shocked to see Rafe Cameron sitting in the back staring straight at you.
Shit. 
You immediately break eye contact and nervously sit yourself down in the first seat closest to you Front row. With nervous hands, you manage to get your laptop out of your bag and start it up. Automatic pilot takes over and helps you find the document from the previous lecture, but you can hear the beat of your heart in between your ears, knowing he's behind you. 
Maybe you should just apologize to him after class, you think. It was kind of rude to have done what you did, was it not? After all, he never did anything wrong. Only, you have no clue what is going through his head. You've heard about him getting into fights, him dealing, him threatening other people.... But you actually didn't know him at all, so, you know, maybe he would just be happy if you just cleared the air. You're sure he could be nice, you felt it in his touch, in his pace…
Your face flushes red as the memory pops into your head again. Quickly but subtly you take a careful look over your shoulder, wary of Rafe being able to read your mind. As soon as you lay your eyes on him, his head turns into your direction, his eyes following just a bit slower. 
The teacher starts her class. “Welcome class!” You snap your head to her. “Today, we’ll follow up on the chapter we started on last week, chapter 9. We left of at page 67 in the textbook…” She goes on. 
You are definitely not going to talk to him. After class, you are just gonna leave this room as fast as possible. He's too intimidating. Too scary. 
Too handsome.
No, fuck, stop. 
During the rest of the period, you find yourself dipping in and out of attention for the lecture, struggling to take notes as time drags on slowly. 
When the professor finally concludes the lecture and wishes the class a good rest of the week, everyone hastily starts packing their belongings, eager to escape the confinement of the dusty room. Yet, nobody is as eager as you. The people passing by make it difficult to leave your spot. To them you are more or less invisible. Not to Rafe though. He follows your every move as Topper walks beside him, going on and on about the troubles of his latest relationship troubles. It was always the same with him.
“I don’t know what she wants, man. Whatever I do, I always seem to do the wrong thing. One minute we’re being all lovey dovey, the next, she says she needs space.”
Rafe’s completely unbothered. Unlike himself, Topper is a total doormat. The wait-and-see type of guy. Rafe however likes to go after what he wants. And so, without any announcements, he leaves Topper behind, following you at a covert distance. “Hey dude! Where are you going?” Topper tries to catch up with him again, but Rafe strides on. “See you later, Top!” He exclaims unentertained with his head acing his target. You’re too jittery to notice, so busy to get out fast. He can tell, but he won’t have it. This time he won’t let you get away that easily. 
➤ taglist: here
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et6rnalsun · 5 months
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ᡣ𐭩 chris sturn x fem! reader
warnings: nothing, this is pure fluff !!
summary: forcing your boyfriend to do yet another tiktok trend with you. ( requested. masterlist. )
“alright” you're already giggling before even start the video, your eyes fixed on chris's face which seemed to oscillate between amused and desperate as you fix the phone resting on a wall.
you then clicked the three second timer before quickly positioning yourself at his side, and he gave you a small playful push before smirking at the camera that was filming the two of you.
first move, you both did rock.
second, he knew you would use the same as the previous one, so he did paper and you just rolled your eyes, huffing. “i hate you”
"loser" he shrugged, before starting to eat, taking large bites of the burger. he moved slightly to the side, showing the phone your running and slowly shrinking form. with one finger he pretended to 'crush' you, shaking his head with a chuckle at his own stupidity, trying to chew as quickly as possible.
when you came back, you were out of breath. the burger was already almost finished, and you raised an eyebrow as he simply swallowed the last bite, returning to his position.
at least three times you kept doing the same things, before he beat you again. “i really don't like this game” you said sarcastically, before starting to run again.
"sayin’ that shit after she literally begged me to do it" chris spoke to the camera, taking several sips of the coke before moving on to the chips, even taking the time to open the dips. you were just too slow, and he was starting to really enjoy it.
he chose the chips because he wanted to leave you the burger. not that he would ever say that, of course.
“you literally can’t run” he huffed in amusement, watching as you placed your hands on your knees to try and breathe.
his victories continued to persist for many more rounds, losing only twice. (probably on purpose)
when you ran back to him the last time you were completely exhausted, and you naturally just leaned into him, causing him to chuckle. his arm wrapped around your shoulder, and the free one reached out for the burger.
looking down at you, he brought the food towards your mouth and made you take a bite, his head tilted to the side as he smiled at the sight.
"bro isn't that tired even after we fucked" the video ended with you slapping him.
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hqbaby · 4 months
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three — have to be
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mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader
⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.
previous — masterlist — next
word count. 2.5k content. profanity, college kids being stupid, some angsty feels
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Contrary to popular belief, college isn’t that different from high school. No one magically matures overnight and goes from being a snot-nosed brat to a sophisticated adult. Try as you might, it just isn’t the way things go.
College is essentially just high school on steroids. The cliques are more exclusive, padded with unwritten rules and covert acts of initiation. Bullies are more subtle, if not more vicious. And the gossip? Well, the gossip is just as venomous, and news spreads just as fast.
Today’s item of interest is one for the books: The big breakup between the campus crush and the golden boy who bagged her. How they ended things rather abruptly. And how they’re both already dating different people only three weeks later.
“Apparently, you cheated on him,” Nobara tells you, pulling out the lollipop she has in her mouth. “Or you cheated on him. It depends on who you ask.”
“I heard that you were sleeping with a professor,” Maki says.
You frown at her, adjusting your bag on your shoulders. “Yaga?”
“No.” She grins. “Gakuganji.”
You gag at the thought. Which sicko came up with that? Probably Kento, you think. The prick.
The three of you are on your way to a meeting for a pre-law society you joined back in your first year. You’re not quite sure you want to be a lawyer and Maki’s made it clear that she’s just in it for the parties, but as Nobara says, it’s for the connections.
A lot of college has felt like a complete scam to you, if you’re being honest. The classes are fine enough and you occasionally meet interesting people, but for the most part, you’re well-aware that everyone here’s either just coasting or trying to one-up one another. You can’t complain though. In the end, you’re a part of it all.
“I heard something interesting though,” Nobara says, and there’s a dangerous tone in her voice that has you crawling out of your skin. “More than a few people are saying that you’re dating someone new.”
Maki nods, looking at you with a raised brow. “I heard that too.”
“Someone from the business department apparently,” Nobara adds. “Someone you’re incredibly close with.”
You swallow as your two friends turn to you for an answer to their accusations. You and Sukuna made your sham relationship “official” just a few days ago and you haven’t had the time to tell either of them about it. If you’re being honest, you’ve been avoiding the topic for as long as humanly possible because you already know what they’re going to say about the whole thing.
It’s one thing for you to be friends with him despite their clear dislike of him, it’s an entirely different thing to be dating him. To the public’s knowledge at least.
“I was going to tell you guys about that,” you say quietly.
Nobara gapes, dropping her lollipop on the ground. “You’re fucking with us.”
“Before you say anything—”
“Holy shit!” Maki exclaims. She stops in her tracks and grabs your shoulders, shaking you as if to shock some sense into your system. “No. You’re not doing this.”
“I know Satoru fucked you up, but this is not the way to deal,” Nobara tells you. Her arms are flailing around as she tries to get her point across. She probably thinks you’re in too deep, madly in love with the asshole she’s done nothing but warn you about. “Where’s your phone? You’re breaking up with him right now.”
You can’t help but laugh at your friends’ hysterics. Much to their horror.
Maki’s grip on your tightens. “This is serious, babe. It’s not happening.”
“Will you just let me speak?” you say, the laughter shaking your voice. “I’m not dating Sukuna.”
They both let out a sigh of relief.
“But I am pretending to.”
“What kind of fucked up game are you playing?” Maki demands. She’s let go of you now at least. That’s something. “Explain, bitch.”
You roll your eyes and continue walking straight ahead, forcing the two of them to hurry along after you. “It’s just a thing we’re doing,” you say. “It’s basically a joke.”
Nobara groans. “Well, it’s not funny,” she says. “Why are you doing this?”
“I dunno,” you tell her. “I’m petty, I guess.”
They’re clearly displeased with your non-answer. You realize that it was more than ridiculous trying to hide it from them in the first place. There’s really nothing to hide.
“We went to a party over the weekend,” you say. “And Satoru was there… with Kimi.”
Maki purses her lips, but you can tell that she understands. She understands you more than she wants to. She was there with you before the breakup, she saw how much the whole thing had been weighing on you, and she was there immediately after it happened. She saw just how badly the whole thing wrecked you. She knows that you’re being stupid, but she also knows you.
It’s Nobara who scowls and shakes her head. It’ll take more than that to convince her.
“So?” she says. “Then date one of the many guys who throw themselves at your feet. Or get a girl! You’re due for a girl. Pick literally anyone else but him.”
You chuckle at her insistence, draping your arm over her shoulder and squeezing her against you. “I don’t want anything real right now,” you tell her. “All those people want a real relationship that I’m just not ready for, and they don’t deserve to be led on. Besides, Sukuna’s the only one I trust to do something this stupid with.”
“See, that’s how I know you’re fucked in the head,” she says. “You cannot trust a guy like Sukuna. He’s an ass.”
“He’s also my best friend.”
Nobara hangs her head at that. “You know, I wish I’d met you sooner,” she tells you. “Then, I would’ve gotten you away from that asshole before he got his fangs in.”
“I know him,” you say, leaning your head against her. “You gotta trust me on this.”
She wraps her arm around your waist and holds you tight for a moment, then sighs. “If he tries anything stupid though, I will kill him.”
“I’ll help,” Maki says. She goes in front of you, walking backwards so she can keep her eyes on yours. “You’re sure about this?”
You nod, reaching your hand out to grab hers. “I’m sure,” you say. “And it’s only for a month. I’ll probably be ready to move onto something real by then.”
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The meeting has been going on for hours. They’re not usually this bad when all you have to talk about is a fundraiser or a seminar or a statement against the school administration or something menial like that. But the agenda today is loaded.
The trip.
The big trip that everyone in the society always gets worked up over. It’s the big event of the year, a weekend where the whole group goes somewhere new and gets completely wasted. 
It isn’t enough that you do charity work or contribute to the campus life like any other club would. It isn’t enough that you all see each other on a weekly basis to party at someone’s house or head to a bar together. To truly make the “connections” that Nobara speaks of, you have to relocate everyone to a beach or camp in the mountains or get locked together in a cabin in the woods.
It’s for bonding, they say. But with how everyone’s arguing right now, you’re almost worried that the whole group is just going to end up hating each other. Just another part of the college experience as they say.
“We are not going to an active volcano for our trip,” Utahime says. “It’s stupid and, honestly, not fun at all.”
Mahito huffs at that. “What’s more fun than knowing that we could die at any moment?” he asks like it’s a completely normal thing to say. “You guys just want to go to the beach again and that’s boring.”
“Where would we even sleep?” Aoi points out.
Utahime nods and looks at Mahito with venom in her eyes. “Exactly.”
“As if anyone sleeps on these trips anyway.”
You raise your hand. “I vote against the volcano.”
“So where would you have us go?” Mahito asks. “Kento’s house?”
The man in question scoffs. “As if I would ever let you in my house.”
“I think the beach is fine,” Nobara says. “We always have fun there anyway.”
“We went there last year though,” you say against your better judgment. When Nobara looks at you like, How are you not siding with me on this? You mouth a quick “sorry.” Then, “Camping’s fun.”
“Bugs,” Mahito.
“Oh, and you think there isn’t anything gross on a volcano?” Utahime.
“What about Aoi’s cabin?” Kento.
“My dad just sold it.” Aoi.
“I vote beach.” Maki.
“Thank you!” Nobara.
The conversation goes round and round. Everyone has an opinion, everyone has something to say, everyone has something they don’t like or don’t want to do. It seems like the whole thing will never end.
“Ski trip,” you say suddenly. The room goes silent. “We’ve never been before, and it’s doable. The budget’s pretty good this year. I think we could swing it.”
Everyone looks at Kento, the keeper of the books, as he turns to his laptop to crunch the numbers. After a moment of typing, he looks up and nods.
“It’ll have to be after the children’s rights fundraiser though,” he says. “We have to make sure we can make the downpayment on the hall for the kids, but after that…”
Everyone looks at Utahime now, the club president who has the final word on everything. “Fine,” she says eventually. “Ski trip it is.”
There’s a round of “finally”s and “fuck yeah”s and patting each other on the back for a job well-done.
“Now, about the children’s rights fundraiser,” Utahime says. “We should really start planning that.”
Everyone groans and there’s eventually a call for a five-minute break.
“We should really kick Mahito out at this point,” Nobara whispers to you as she rests her head on the table. “He doesn’t even do his job half of the time.”
You pat her head and laugh. “He’s harmless,” you tell her, getting up from your seat. “I’m gonna go pee.”
“I’ll come,” Maki says, following you out the door.
The two of you link your hands together and swing them wildly as you make your way to the restroom, a habit you two formed in freshman year when you refused to be suffocated by the crowds of people going from classroom to classroom. Despite seeming like two completely different kinds of people on the surface, the two of you are just menaces at heart. It’s why you’re such good friends.
As you approach the restroom, you can hear a group of girls talking loudly inside.
“Locker room talk,” Maki says, wiggling her eyebrows at you with a smirk on her lips.
You snort, the voices becoming clearer now.
“You’re so lucky.”
“Is he good in bed?”
“He’s lucky to have you.”
“You guys are so embarrassing.”
You stop in your tracks. The last voice is so familiar, terrifyingly so. It’s a voice you’ve heard from a few feet away. In front of you in a line. In the back of a classroom. On the court, counting out the timing for the next steps of the cheerdance.
“He’s really sweet though,” the voice says. “Just this morning, he showed up at my dorm with a bunch of flowers. He said he got them ‘just because.’”
Maki is watching you with concern, confused by why you’ve suddenly stopped moving, why your breath has seemed to hitch in your throat.
Just because.
A bouquet of now-wilted flowers on your kitchen counter. A teddy bear from a carnival tucked beneath your bed. A tennis racket you made him swear not to buy that showed up in your locker one morning before practice. Just because.
The restroom door swings open and four girls walk out. One of them—
“Kimi.”
The name slips from your mouth before you even realize it. You want the earth to swallow you whole at this moment. For the current to drag you under. For the heavens to crack open.
The girl looks at you with wide eyes. Guilt, you can tell. Pity.
She says your name this time. “Hi,” she says a little nervously. “How are you?”
Just like Maki, her friends watch the situation unfold from a careful distance. Will one of you lunge at the other? Will you pretend to be the best of friends? Should they come closer? Should they stay back?
“I’m doing well,” you tell her. The voice that comes out of you doesn’t feel like your own. You only realize now that you’re smiling. There’s a hint of smugness to it, a hint of callousness, cruelty. “I take it you and Satoru are going strong.”
She seems to catch your tone. Unintentional of course, but she doesn’t know that. All trepidation seems to leave her body, replaced by a similar coldness. “Yeah, we are,” she says. “I hear you and Sukuna are an item now.”
You try not to cringe at the implication. You’ve traded Satoru, the golden boy, for Sukuna, the bad idea. No point regretting it now.
“Yeah,” you say. End this now, you think. “Well, Maki and I have a meeting to get back to.”
“Oh, sure,” she says sweetly, stepping out of your way. Her friends follow suit. “See you around.”
You take Maki’s hand and wave at the girl as she passes by. “See you.”
The two of you walk into the restroom and let the door close behind you. You’re looking at each other now, breathing deeply as you hear the girls outside walk away.
“That was fucking insane,” Maki finally says.
“Tell me about it.”
You both burst out laughing at the absurdity of the whole situation. It’s not a big deal, if you’re thinking logically, seeing your ex’s new girlfriend in a restroom. You all go to the same school, it’s not like you can avoid each other. Still, the whole thing brings out a viciousness in you that you can’t quite control, one that’s always ridiculous in hindsight.
You go into the bathroom stalls, still laughing.
“You were so cold,” Maki tells you from the stall beside you. “I was so proud, you wouldn’t believe it.”
“I was mean!” you exclaim. You groan as you reach for the toilet paper. “She’s so telling him about that.”
“No way. It’d be embarrassing.”
You pull your pants up and head out to wash your hands in the sink, waiting for Maki to finish. “She knows about Sukuna.”
“Yeah,” she says. “How do you feel about that?”
“Humiliated.”
She steps out of the stall and washes her hands in the sink beside yours. “You still think the whole pretend-dating thing is worth it?”
You shrug, crossing your arms over your chest. “What’s done is done,” you tell her. “Sunk cost, baby.”
Maki dries her hand and looks at you seriously now. “Are you okay?”
Just because.
The words echo in your head. Words that have only ever been spoken to you now tainted by her voice.
“No,” you tell her. When she looks at you with furrowed brows, all you can do is shrug. “But I’ll have to be.”
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notes. a little insight into reader's student life and bit of her bitchy side 👀 these chapters are getting longer than i'm used to lmao i fear the plot is getting away from me and just dragging me along for the ride at this point
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indierpgnewsletter · 7 months
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Playing Rabbits in an RPG from 1976
(This continues our 2024 series, 10 Games From The First 10 Years. First published in the Indie RPG Newsletter)
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It is genuinely surprising to me that in 1976, within two years of D&D coming out, someone published a game about being rabbits. It makes a little more sense when you realize that it was inspired by Watership Down and the designers were, I believe, zoologists or something similar. But having read it, the premise is the least interesting part of this game. It has so many fascinating little ideas.
Bunnies & Burrows is a game about rabbits … but these aren’t just rabbits, they fight, explore, gamble, study herbs, see the future, parley with beetles, find love, have children – and the list goes on. The end result are characters that ironically feel more human than you’d imagine.
As I play more games, I learn about games, sure, but I’m also learning a lot about myself. And a rule of thumb has slowly emerged: I want to play games that lead to interesting, surprising, unique things being said by the players. I’ve sometimes phrased it as “people want to say cool shit at the table”. I’m people.
Bunnies & Burrows starts with D&D as a jumping off point – there’s that old, familiar rolling 3d6 down the line to get your stats. But that’s more or less where the similarities end. You have rules for fighting but it’s not D&D combat – this game is often described as having “the first martial arts system” but what this means is that fighting is mostly weapon-less and involves declaring actions that flow into each other as patterns or c-c-combos. Basically, some actions set up other actions – you can’t Rip into another rabbit unless you already pulled off a Bite & Hold in the last turn. Some actions like Run aren’t possible if you’ve just done a Pin or a Rip in the previous turn and so on. I didn’t actually get to play out a fight but these rules got me grinning.
And the whole thing is like that. The study and application of herbs is meant to be a little puzzle where through trial-and-error and dice rolls, you slowly figure out what’s good for you and what isn’t. The languages and persuasion rules mean that certain characters can become envoys to other species. Because a language can mean the difference between things turning violent and a peaceful negotiation between rabbits and a mother scorpion that has accidentally wandered into their warren.
Don’t get me wrong. Most of these little pieces are eccentric and inelegant – always more convoluted than you’d like but still a major leap forward in playability because in the end, it’s a d100 roll under a target number. All the fiddliness – and there’s a lot of it – lies in the absolutely esoteric ways this game invents for calculating that target number. But I find it easy to forgive this in an old game, especially when the most interesting part of the game doesn’t lie in the mechanics but the negative space the rules seem to create.
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The donut hole in the centre of this game – fruitful void? uncrowded centre? – is the question: What is rabbit society like? This is a setting question – or rather, a system of relation question – that is never asked but it must be answered. The mechanics have some opinions. For example, every player picks a profession when they make a character – Empath, Seer, Storyteller, Scout, and so on. Some of this comes from Watership Down, which can, of course, be your ready-made answer – it’s the unstated but obvious setting sourcebook for this game. But if you don’t go down that route, you’ve got a juicy problem: What do we value? What do we despise?
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