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#what do you think i’d have to put in these tags for
secondbeatsongs · 17 hours
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Hello, you said in some tags in a poll that Speed Racer (2008) is your favorite film. If you’re okay with it, I’d really like to hear more about why you love it. I love the Wachowskis’ work (they’re among my favorite directors), but I kinda ended up bouncing off Speed Racer (2008). So, hearing that it had a real impact on someone makes me very curious why. I’m not interested in criticizing your opinion or arguing with you, I’d just really like to know why you love it in the hopes I might be able to enjoy that movie more in the future.
oh god this is from seven months ago, I'm so sorry - but I do love almost everything about Speed Racer (2008) and I still think about it nearly every day.
I love that it's so bright and colorful and absurd. I love that it's an anime in live action form. and I love that at its heart, it is a story about love.
it's about the mistakes people make out of love, and the consequences of that. it's about the way children grow to understand why the adults around them make the choices they do, and maybe choose to do the same things. it's about taking risks for the people you love, and the pain of failing to change the world, because everything is capitalism and everything hurts.
(and it's also about being transgender btw. like, that's one of the main things about it - it is very much a movie about being transgender)
what if your father's choices hurt your older brother, and your older brother's choices hurt you, and now it's you and your younger brother staring down a future where you're going to end up hurting him by making the same choice?
and then...what if you can escape that? what if the broken parts put themselves back together, and the hope doesn't run out, and you're not alone with the things that haunt you? what then?
and now you're at the end and mistakes were still made, people were still hurt, but everyone's grown and changed and they're different now. and they've figured out that maybe, just maybe, you can change the world by doing something you love, by creating art and beauty and making people feel things.
maybe you really can defeat capitalism by driving a car really fast. and even if everyone thinks you can't...don't you have to try anyway? shouldn't you fight with the skills you have, the only way you know how?
what if it works?
and I'm not even gonna get into most of the Racer X stuff (because I want people to go watch this movie, and most folks probably won't be spoiled for it), but his whole deal is just...everything. I love him.
(if there's a guy from Speed Racer that I want to put in a jar and shake every so often, or maybe wrap in a blanket so he can have a nice nap, it's Racer X. he's a great character. prime blorbo material)
anyway I've been rotating this movie in my head ever since I saw it for the first time, and I think I've seen it...seven? times now? and I still cry at the final race, and I still get blown away by the intro sequence.
(the beginning of the movie is genuinely one of the best things I've ever seen - it does an amazing job of introducing you to the world and the story of the characters, and gets you emotionally invested in it right from the start. it's fantastic filmmaking)
also like. story stuff aside, from a technical standpoint, the movie is a masterpiece. it's the type of thing that people hated when it first came out, but when you look at it now and see how it was made, how it intentionally looks bizarre and cartoonish, plastic and surreal, you can see the exact vision the Wachowskis were going for, and it's brilliant.
the way they did the visual effects, the way they made the outdoor scenes feel so detailed, the way the driving and the tracks work - they put so much thought into that, and the behind-the-scenes vids show how cool their process was.
also uhhh cars go vroom, crash into each other, flip upside down, explode, maybe have bees and hammers in them sometimes?
(the above is me complimenting the unhinged vibe of the races themselves, which I love very much)
anyway I could make other full posts about the script of the film and how much I love it, or the cool side characters, or the fanfic potential of the amazing world of the film, or how I can prove that it's set in 1991...but I guess if anyone wants those rants, they'll just have to watch the film and then come talk to me. :)
(please. please come talk to me about Speed Racer.)
so, yeah! I kinda lost my mind there and made this post way longer than I intended, but I do feel strongly affected by this movie, and I hope this has helped explain why.
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End Game 3
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.
Characters: Andy Barber
Note: and so it continues.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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When you find Kara, she’s at the front of the line. You wait impatiently on the other side of the rope as she gabs up a storm with the D-lister on the other side of the table. Restless, throat sour with bile, you pace in a small line, flicking your thumb as you resist the urge to tell her to hurry up. 
You need to get out of there. You can barely think. You can’t even stay still as heat scalds and speckles over your scalp and down your body. 
You turn on your heel and your feet tangle as you stop short. Andy stands just on the other side of the line, staring at you. Oh shit. 
You rush over to Kara and snap her tank top strap, “hey, there’s other people waiting.” 
“One second!” She squeals carelessly over her shoulder, quickly returning to fawning over the washed-up sci-fi actor. 
You sigh and cross your arms, rocking back and forth, “Kara, I really don’t feel good.” 
She huffs and chirps crisply, excusing herself from the table. Several others send her a dirty look for spending so much time chattering as they wait eagerly in the wings. She steps around the post to the other side of the rope. 
“Let me guess, too much sugar?” She scoffs. 
“Something like that,” you grumble. “Look, it’s like five. We’ve been here for a couple hours. I’m chill getting out of here.” 
“Already?” She lifts a brow, “we haven’t even got you a plushie.” 
“I should save my money,” you keep your arms folded around you. 
She eyes you up and down, “are you okay?” 
“Y-yeah, it’s like you said, too much sugar. I should’ve eaten breakfast. Or lunch.” 
She gives you a skeptical squint and shrugs, “alright, whatever. We can go hang at mine.” 
“Great, sorry,” you mope, “I just... I’m tired.” 
“It’s fine,” she assures you, “I get it. This place can be a bit much and the BO is starting to get to me.” She struts ahead of you and you catch up to her. She marvels at the signed photo in her hand, “at least I got something cool.” 
“Yeah, that’s awesome. You gonna hang it up?” You ask, trying to distract yourself. 
“Mm, maybe.” 
You glance over your shoulder. Andy’s closer, looming, hands in his pocket, eyes set on you. What is he doing? You grab her arm and hurry her towards the exit. 
“Woah, what’s up?” She trips in her wedged sandals. 
“I just need some fresh air. Like you said, it stinks in here.” 
As you finally get through the front doors, your phone is shaking incessantly. The buzz can be heard through the denim. You ignore it as you cross the lot. 
“Is that him calling?” She asks, “is that what this is about? I mean, I’d be pissed too but he shouldn’t get to ruin your day.” 
“No, it’s not,” you lie, “I just... crowds get to me after a while. It’s been a long day, traveling and all that... I’m tired.” 
“Mm, sure, well, let’s not let that coward shit on it all,” she snips. “It’ll be like high school. Girls’ night! Popcorn and nail painting and your favourite hollywood hunk.” 
“You mean your favourite,” you toss back. 
She giggles, “come on, you know you think he’s cute too.” 
You roll your eyes and stick close to her. You follow her out to the street and quickly turn away. You send one last look over your shoulder. You don’t think he’d follow you this far. You grab onto Kara’s arm and set your sights ahead of you. 
“Sleepover!” You chime, doing your best to hide your anxiety. 
🎮
You’re sad to leave Kara. She made a crummy day brighter with a fun night. Still, you’re relieved to go back home. Where you can be alone, where you can forget. 
You catch an early Greyhound and hug your bag to you as you doze, waking with each lurch of the axle. Back in town, you disembark and sigh. You still have a shift tonight. It’s a good excuse to avoid that little needling at the back of your mind. 
You still can’t believe it. How many years had you been warned against meeting people on the internet? For how much of your life has that faceless avatar online been the boogeyman to fear? And yet, he sent you pictures, you spent hours gaming together, and you trusted him. Yes, you’re that stupid. You really trusted Jacob—Andy. 
You drop your stuff at home and shower as your grandmother grumbles into a cup of tea. As you emerge, her eternal scowl curls her lips. You go to the kitchen to wash her used dishes and come back out, hoping the chore appeases her. She doesn’t say a word as she sorts through her knitting needles. 
Right. As grim as the house can be, you find comfort in that nothing has changed, even if you feel like your world has. You don’t even want to look at your Switch. That one possession you treasured above all. It’s the most expensive thing you own. You saved for months to get one, it connected you to outside, it helped you escape, and now it’s just another reminder. 
You grab your purse and head off for work. You message Kara to check in. Uh oh, she says Calvin is in town. Not this again. 
You go to hit reply on her message and another notification pops up. You tap it before you can stop yourself. It’s him. Andy. He’s been texting but you haven’t answered, you haven’t even looked to block him. You don’t know why you haven’t just hit that magic button but you just avoided everything about him. 
‘Please. I’m sorry. Can we please talk?’ 
It’s no different than the litany of texts before hand; ‘we can mine and talk this out’; ‘I wanted to tell you the truth for so long, I just thought you had the right to hear it face-to-face'; ‘hope you got home safe. Please text when you have a moment’; one after another, changing from one tone to the others; desperate, apologetic, concerned... 
Before you can dismiss the conversation, he messages again. 
‘You’re reading my messages. I see the checkmark. Please, just give me a chance to explain.’ 
You sniff and shake your head. You mute your phone and bury it at the bottom of your purse. You don’t want to talk to him but you just can’t bring yourself to get rid of him entirely. For a year he was your friend. Maybe just a gaming buddy but a constant that you came to count on.  
You would login and just shoot the shit; chat about your day; just let it all out and not think as you dug up diamonds or raced around Moo Moo Meadows. That’s all gone now and it hurts just as much as the rest of his lies. It isn’t just that he isn’t Jacob, it’s that you told him things you didn’t even tell Kara. He had been your safe harbour because he was far away, because anything you said could never come back to you. 
Your eyes sting and your cheeks pinch. Stupid, again. You shouldn’t be this emotional about this. Forget about it. You got work.  
Work? Scooping ice cream? God, how pathetic you must have sounded to him. He’s a lawyer or something? At least that what he claimed when he’d still been Jacob. You knew at first glance the type of man he is; established, professional, and older. So much older. 
Yeah, your problems must have seemed so minuscule and immature. Oh, you flunked a pop quiz? Not like you have to pay a mortgage.  
Urgh. You shake off the nipping embarrassment as you enter the booth and pull on your apron. Maybe you don’t have that much going on, but you’re trying. You’re young. You’re learning. What’s his excuse? 
🎮
You should have done this a lot sooner. You don’t know why you didn’t. Maybe because it didn’t matter before. Before, Jacob was just a boy you played Minecraft with. He was just a voice in a headset. But now, he’s... not. He’s Andy. No. 
He’s dead. 
You stare at the search result and your heart sinks. That, at least, is true. Jacob Barber; death date, last year. The pictures even match. Just a skinny kid, smiling beside his dad and mom. She’s gone too. Lost in the same accident. 
You kick yourself for being so careless. If you’d just searched him up a year ago. Even just reverse searched those pictures, you would’ve pieced it together. The only thing you can be thankful for is that it wasn’t worse. That you’re safe and you can just leave it behind. 
Well, that’s what you want to do. 
You scroll through the rest of the results. There's more, before the death. Articles about a murder and suspects. Jacob was one. What? 
It’s all so messy you can hardly make sense of any of it. You stop and sit back. You think of the man who sat across from you, you remember the look in his eyes, the flicker in his voice. He did sound sorry. 
And after everything? A police investigation then to just lose your son like that? Your only child. 
You know you don’t owe him anything. He lied to you. He had every chance to be honest, from the very beginning. Maybe you wouldn’t have wanted to play with a middle-aged man but maybe you could’ve helped him find somebody. You could’ve at least shared gaming tips.  
It isn’t about him. It’s about closure. This is just a blip on the radar. You have bigger things to worry about. Your grandmother, work, school. The summer’s flying by and tuition fees are higher than last year. Your interest payments are going to spike and you foresee a second job on the horizon. 
You look at your phone, entranced by it. You stand and walk in circles. You come back to your small desk and pick up the cell. The little chat bubble at the bottom has that red dot in the corner; unread messages. You tap it and the dot disappears. 
Jacob-- 
Andy’s chat opens and you slowly key in your message, several times over before you get it right. 
‘I’m signing into the server. I’ll be on until nine. No mining, talking.’ 
That’s it. That’s all. You can’t go back to what it was. You want this to be over. You’re closing the book, cutting the strings. He needs to know what he did was wrong and you need to move on. 
You take a breath and try to calm your nerves. Now that you’ve sent the message, you don’t know if you can do it. It’s too late, he saw it. 
You move slowly as you boot up your switch and plug in your headset. Your heart is racing like crazy. You’re going to have a panic attack. You feel the same wave of nausea you felt back at the con. Ugh. 
You load the server and almost as soon as the textures appear, he joins. Your lip trembles. You hear his mic scuff but he says nothing. No, you’re not here to listen to him. He has to hear you and then you’re done. 
“I’m sorry about your son,” you begin. 
“I... thanks.” 
“But it’s not an excuse,” you interrupt him, “what you did was so wrong.” 
“I know.” 
“Please, let me get this out,” you insist, your voice shaking. “I can’t understand what you’ve been through. I looked it all up and I know that it’s a lot. I, obviously, have never dealt with any of that. You know that, because I told you. Because I trusted you,” you frown as you inhale sharply, tears pricking in your eyes, “because I thought you were my age, that you were him, your son. Your dead son.” 
You shudder and shake your head, gulping thickly. 
“Do you not see how fucked up that is?” 
He sighs, “I know. I promise you, I wanted to tell you. That’s why... that’s why I wanted to meet. Because you deserved to know and I had to tell it to your face. You deserved that--” 
“Did I deserve to be lied to? Huh? Why—Why did you need to do all that? Why couldn’t you just tell the truth?” 
He sniffles. You’re silent, choked by the sob trapped in your throat. 
“I... He’s gone. I missed him so bad and I wasn’t thinking straight. It’s not an excuse, you’re right,” his voice is raspy, “I... you reminded me of him. Playing his favourite game helped me get through. It was wrong. All of it. I’m not saying you should forgive me, but I’m trying to explain as best as I can. I still don’t really understand why I did it.” 
You swallow and wipe your wet eyes, “you’re right. I don’t need to forgive you. I don’t. I only came on here to say what I needed to before I delete this world. I might be young and stupid but I think you need help. Real help, not some girl on a headset.” 
“Please--” 
His voice cuts off as you hit quit. You feel a pang of guilt. You do feel bad for him but you hope he heard you. You can’t forgive what he did to you, but you can wish the best for him. You hope what you said can make him get the proper help.
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annwrites · 21 hours
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i think you needed me.
— pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader
— type: ficlet (part of a series)
— summary: billy helps you with homework, you realize you have a crush, & yet another man enters the fold
— tags: billy trying to learn more about you, billy opening up about who he used to be
— tw: references to past sexual abuse/grooming of a minor, mentions of drugs, infidelity, implied abortion
— word count: 4,458
— a/n: going forward, this fic will be dealing in heavy material, like those referenced in the tw & more. sex scenes will be graphic & potentially triggering to some readers. putting it out there now, so some know to stop before following along any further with this post/series.
i hope this post seems okay. idk how i feel about writing billy this way. it feels ooc, bc he's so nice & mature, but he's supposed to be for this story, bc that's the kind of man reader desperately needs to lean on. idk. i think i just need to get more comfortable with characterizing him so differently than i did in my thoroughfare series.
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When Billy enters the house, he finds you to his left in the living room. Or, what is now serving as a poor excuse for one. You’re on the floor, lying on your stomach atop a light blue blanket, legs in the air behind you, waving back and forth as you work on what he assumes is homework.
You glance up to him for a moment, a pencil balanced atop your upper lip which is in a pout to keep it in-place and he smirks at the sight.
He holds up a plastic bag from a hardware store. “Brought you a new doorknob.”
You drop the writing utensil. “Does that one have a lock, too?”
“It does.”
You turn back to the textbook in front of you. “Good. Now you can replace the other one that you broke.”
His lip twitches. “Yes, ma’am.”
You roll your eyes. “Don’t call me that.”
He repeats the statement yet again before heading up.
A handful of minutes later, he comes back downstairs, seating himself on the cushion-less couch. “Done.”
You look back at him over your shoulder.
He lays an arm across the back of the couch. “What? Do you want to inspect my handiwork?”
You go back to your homework. “Not really. And you’re not getting paid, either.”
He chuckles. “I’d say that’s only fair, since it needing to be replaced at all is my fault to begin with.”
Both of you grow silent then and he leans forward, squinting, trying to get a look at whatever you’re working on. “Number four is wrong.”
He leans back again.
You don’t initially respond, telling yourself that he’s just picking on you. Or that you don’t really care if your decimal is in the wrong place, but you keep glancing back to the question. You sigh loudly then and he smiles in response. “So what’s the right answer, then?”
He shrugs. “You tell me, sweetheart.”
You don’t like him calling you that yet again. Scott is the only one who gets to call you by that term of endearment. Joe had tried it once—twice, maybe—and even if he scared the shit out of you, you made it clear that he could call you by anything else but that. He’d agreed easily, since his cock had just been buried in your warm, wet mouth—close to finishing. His mind was occupied with other things at the time than arguing over meaningless nicknames. He’d given you what you wanted—agreement—and then you’d given him the same: an orgasm, which included swallowing, before his wife came home.
You look at him over your shoulder again. “Don’t ever call me that again. Got it?”
He blinks down at you for a moment, the air in the room shifting as he wonders whether you disliked that specific pet name, or pet names in general. And much more: why? “Sure.” He clears his throat. “It’s four point six seven, by the way. Your decimal is in the wrong place.”
You turn back to your paper, erasing and then correcting. You’d known you had screwed up, but had gotten so frustrated that you’d chosen to eventually move onto the next question.
“I hate math,” you mutter.
He props his other elbow up against the arm of the couch, resting his head against his fist. “It was my favorite subject, actually.”
“Can’t imagine why,” you say, filling in number five, hoping you’ve at least gotten it right. You’re sure Billy will tell you if you haven’t.
“What’s your favorite subject? You like to read, so I assume English?”
You bob your head from side-to-side for a moment. “It’s a tie between that and science.”
Ironic, he thinks. The daughter of a meth manufacturer who loves science.
Speaking of, you’d spent last night on-edge, wondering what the hell had gone through your head to think sharing such a secret with a complete stranger to be a good idea. If any of the men found out…‘being in trouble’ wouldn’t even begin to cover it.
You didn’t want to think what Joe would do to you if he found out you’d ran your mouth off to some random that wasn’t even from here, and clearly not a customer, either.
You weren’t sure that the prospect of him never getting to use you for his own personal sexual satisfaction again would be enough to save you.
Thankfully, however, the only cruiser that had shown up last night—which had still made your heart jump into your throat when you’d glanced out the screen door as your dad went out and you saw it—was Travis’. He’d just been bringing his weekly earnings by to be divvied up.
As your dad stood there counting; ensuring that everything was in-order, he’d stared at you, eyes trailing along your body.
You’d not reacted. You hardly did anymore. They all liked to look. But only a select few were allowed to touch. And he had. Twice now. Even if he was engaged. Not that being spoken-for seemed to matter much to any of them.
Joe had been married now for twenty-five years. Longer than you’d even been alive. But whenever his wife went off to visit her sister, or was to be gone majority of the day and the urge hit him…
Travis was different than him in bed, though.
Then again, they all had their own personal…styles.
Joe really liked blowjobs and demeaning dirty-talk, or taking you from behind—honestly, so long as he was fucking you in some form, he was pleased.
Travis, in the two times you’d now been together, had been more on the gentle side, almost like he was afraid of hurting you—it often made you wonder if that was how his fiancée liked it.
Rhett—in the one time you had been together a year ago—had been tender. You tried not to think about the way he had looked at you that night too much. Or the way he looked at you literally each time he was around you after. With longing, and something else you didn’t want to think about.
He knew what it had been going into it. It wasn’t your problem if he’d hoped for more. You’d been clear from the start.
Sometimes, though, you still felt guilty, knowing that it hurt him each time you slept with one of the other men, or they shared you between them, touching you right in front of him.
And then there was Scott. With him it was just…familiarity. Your bodies simply understanding one another. Wants, needs—they no longer even needed to be talked about. Once your naked skin was pressed against each other—in bed, against the wall, on the bench seat in his pickup, in his garage—it was almost like routine. A pleasant one. Like an old habit that both of you refused to kick. Not that you had any reason to.
Even if, when you fought, it left both of you fuming for days. But the making up was the good part. So, the thought of cutting things off never occurred to either of you. Not that it would last long if you even tried.
You were the only girl he’d bothered to continue carrying on with for so long.
And he was the only man you allowed to kiss you on the mouth.
That was your only rule with the rest of them: they could do, and have you do whatever they desired, but no kissing on the lips. Period.
And then you think of you breaking that rule just yesterday for someone else. But he’d been asleep, so that instance had been different. Or, that’s what you’d told yourself, at least.
You don’t even know why you had done it. Maybe to have a secret of your very own. A new one, that is. Because this house had been that, until he’d showed up.
And now you were back to pretending to be someone else for yet one more man in your life. No more letting your walls down for a few hours and just being a teenage girl with hopes and dreams—playing pretend—even if they dwindled little-by-little as time went on, and you warmed yet one more man’s bed.
He’d ripped that away from you.
You’re broken from your thoughts by Billy speaking again. “I can check your answers once you’re done. If you want.”
“Okay.”
You glance back to him over your shoulder and he meets your gaze with a raised brow. “Need help?”
You study him for a moment, then, “No.”
You turn back around. You’d just been curious as to where his eyes were currently trained at at-present. Because this moment reminds you of a similar one from three years ago, when you’d been fourteen, lying on your stomach on the living room floor, watching TV—you couldn’t even remember what had been on now.
The thing you could recall, however, was Joe sitting on the couch behind you, watching you with hooded lids. When you had turned back to him—feeling suddenly uneasy—you’d watched as he’d adjusted himself over his jeans, making sure you’d seen.
You’d felt sickly after, and hadn’t understood why.
Out of all of them, he’d always been your least-favorite. You had many reasons for that. Perhaps because he was the worst, even if he thought he was the best.
Once you’ve finished, you stand, coming to sit beside Billy, resting back on your calves as you watch him look over your paper.
You study him for a moment, noticing a bit of oil near his brow, and you lick your thumb, then reach toward him to wipe it away.
He pulls back, staring at you. “What’re you doing?”
You don’t reply. You simply clean him up, resting your palm back against your thigh. You wonder if he likes you touching him.
They usually do.
He stares at you for just a moment longer—you can swear that he blushes—before looking back to your paper. “Nine is wrong. Like, way off, kiddo.”
He hands it back to you.
You snort at the nickname, taking it from him. “What is it, then?”
He crosses his arms. “You tell me.”
This again.
You shrug, standing, bending over to put it back in your backpack—you can feel his eyes on your rear. “I can live with one wrong answer.”
He lays his head back against the couch, rolling his eyes. “The correct answer was B, not D.”
You smirk then, pulling the paper back out, quickly correcting it, then putting it away again.
“Never going to learn if I just keep telling you all the right answers.”
You turn back to him then, shrugging. “I’m used to getting what I want.”
He shakes his head lightly.
You sit down again, back pressed against the couch’s other arm, knees bent, feet pressed together in front of you. You break the silence this time.
“So, you went to Hawkins High, too?”
He nods. “Mhm.”
“What were you like? The way you are now?” It seemed to you that most men never grew out of being boys.
He smirks. “No. I was a completely different person.” He rolls his head to the side, looking at you. “Honestly, and this is just going off of a hunch, but I think you would’ve fuckin’ hated me.”
That surprises you. “Really? Why?”
He shrugs, looking up to the ceiling. “I was King Bad-Boy-Asshole. Smoking, drinking, partying, fighting, getting laid and driving a cool car. Generally acting like I didn’t give a shit about anything. Maybe a bit too concerned with my good looks. I had one hell of an ego, too; easily bruised.”
You try to picture this version of him, and for some reason, find it quite difficult to do. You’re not entirely sure that you believe him. But he seems the honest type.
“You’re right. I would’ve.”
And you would. All the guys could get cocky at times. You were used to such behavior. But when it came down to it, especially in regards to business—in whatever capacity—they all pulled their weight; did what was needed—necessary. They looked out for one another.
He smirks again. “You would’ve definitely been my type, though.”
This statement interests you. You lean in toward him. “How so?”
“Attractive, quiet, mysterious. You don’t seem to care much about what other people think. All around hard-to-get. I loved a good chase. As long as I got to break her in like a wild horse in bed at the end of it all.”
He looks at you then.
He’s only half-right about not caring for others’ opinions. Unless they were in your immediate circle, you didn’t. But if they were? You had no choice but to. They expected that from you—you caring about what they do, say, and think. Men like to feel good about themselves, and a supportive young woman is one way to get that validation that they all seem to crave, even if they’d never admit it.
You’d learned long ago to never emasculate them. Any of them. In any form.
“You’re not breaking anything.” You only half mean it. You still think him quite attractive, if nothing else.
It pleases you to hear that he thinks the same of you. Even if you’re not surprised by it.
“Didn’t say I was,” he replies, crossing his arms.
You cock your head to the side. “So, why change?”
“Once my dad kicked me out, real-life hit, and I knew it was time to grow the hell up; the time for games was over. The attitude I had was never going to get me very far.”
There’s a beat of silence, and then he speaks again. “What do you think of me as I am now?”
You shrug. “You’re okay so far. Definitely still a pretty boy, though.”
He scoffs. “Would a pretty boy have hands like these?” He asks, holding his palms up briefly, before settling them against his thighs.
“I was referring to your face, not your hands.”
He chews the inside of his cheek. “Yeah, well, I’m not that.”
Seems like your comment, for whatever reason, has hit a nerve. “Whatever you say, pretty boy.”
He reaches over, grabbing one of your feet, like yesterday, and tugging your sock off, balling it up, and tossing it across the room before massaging the sole.
“Do you have a foot fetish or something?”
His lip twitches in amusement. “No reason why it can’t benefit you.”
You raise a questioning brow.
He shakes his head. “No, I don’t. It’s called being nice. You should try it some time.”
You slide down the couch, settling your other foot in his lap as well. “Oh, I can be very nice. To the right people. Honestly, you probably wouldn’t even recognize me if you saw me with them.”
You stare down at your hands in your lap then.
The latter-most statement had come off as a tad…sad to him. “Why?”
You look at him. “It’s a long story.”
He shrugs, taking your other foot in his rough hands. “No place else to be.”
You glance to the watch on your wrist, knowing Travis is apparently bringing by another cop today to get him dealt-in on the business. He’d asked last night if you’d be there today. You’d said maybe. Meaning that you don’t have to leave.
He looks at your watch as well, then at you. “Do you?”
Your eyes meet his. “Not technically.”
Ever the enigma to him. Never a straight-forward answer with you. You kept him on his toes and guessing, that much was for certain.
“Are you always this cryptic?”
You shrug. “Trust is earned.”
“Trusted me well enough yesterday.”
You glance to him from under your lashes. “I should’ve never told you any of that. It was a mistake. A stupid thing to do.”
His thumbs move to the ball of your foot. “You don’t need to worry. Your secret is safe with me. Besides, I already told you I don’t have any friends. So, who would I have to tell?”
It’s just a general feeling—same as it was yesterday—that he can be trusted. And that’s an unusual occurrence for you. To meet someone like that.
Like him.
He rolls his head to the side, looking at you.
The warmth in his eyes…it’s not often you see such a sight.
“So, who are ‘the right people’, then? Classmates? Boyfriend?”
You cross your arms, shifting uncomfortably. “Family friends.”
He hums, moving his hands back to your other foot. “Why aren’t you with them now?”
“Are you always this nosy?”
He smirks, moving his fingers to your ankle. “Told you yesterday that I only have a few dozen questions to ask. That I find you fascinating.”
“And what do I get for answering?”
His lip twitches. “Helped you with your homework, didn’t I? Sounds like a give-and-take to me.”
“I was doing just fine before you came along.”
He rests the crook of his neck back against the couch. “I think you needed me.”
“Sounds to me like you still have one hell of an ego.”
He chuckles. “Never said I didn’t, honey.”
You glance to your watch again and sigh.
He looks at you, moving his fingers back to your foot, which you then remove from his lap, standing.
You head across the room to retrieve your sock.
He sits up. “Are you leaving?”
You pad back over to your shoes. “Mhm.”
He’s quiet for a moment, thinking. “Want me to give you a ride home?”
You look up to him after slipping them both on. A strange man bringing you home—especially if Scott or Joe were there, or your dad was in a mood—is most certainly a bad idea.
Even at that, with Travis…things were still new and blooming. You knew he felt special—since the rest of them you’d known for years and years—and taking a new guy to bed so soon had made him believe there was something different about him for you. Seeing you with an unfamiliar, like Billy, would only give him doubt.
“No, thanks. I like walking.”
You pull your backpack on and he stands then.
“Will I see you tomorrow?”
You shrug. Normally, you didn’t come here on the weekends to begin with. But you’d procrastinated your math homework yesterday in favor of reading instead. And then had used the unfinished assignment as an excuse to come back today.
You wonder if he always works weekends as well.
He takes a step closer to you, floorboards creaking.
You stare up at him. “Will you be here tomorrow?”
He smiles. “If you want me to be.”
You don’t entirely know what to say to that. “Do you not have work?”
“I don’t work Sundays. And I only work every-other Saturday. It’s the only reason I’m out here today.”
So next weekend you’d have this place all to yourself from the sounds of it. You now had something to look forward to.
You step past him. “And here I thought you came for me.”
He laughs. “Now who has an ego?”
Once the two of you are on the front porch—you really wanted to begin trying to fix this place up, even just a little; perhaps the furniture upstairs could be put to use—you turn back to him. “What I’m doing tomorrow depends on today. Make of that what you will.”
If Travis’ fiancée was to be at work all night, you knew where you’d be this evening. And if you felt wore-out from it come tomorrow, you most likely would hold off on coming back until Monday after school.
Billy raises a brow. “Think I need more details to make anything of it.”
You stand on tiptoes then and press a soft kiss to his cheek, just like yesterday. Once you’re standing on flat feet again, you look up to him with a smile. “Bye.”
He’s blushing again now—you think it sweet that he’s still capable of doing so; the last man who you’d made blush was Rhett, and that was quite some time ago—and you turn, heading through the field to your right without another word.
Billy shakes his head. “What the fuck have I gotten myself into?”
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When you come into the yard, you don’t falter in your steps when you catch sight of Travis and his friend leaned back against Travis’ cruiser—another parked behind it—as they speak to your dad.
You merely glance to them, and the new one—he’s perhaps forty, tall, with dark hair and tanned skin, his strong jawline covered in stubble—looks to you with dark eyes for just a moment. His demeanor is cold, hard, distant. Already he unsettles you.
He breaks the staring contest when he looks back to your dad as you head up the front steps, going inside.
You head to your room, softly shutting the door behind you and slipping off your backpack, setting it on the floor before flopping down face-first on your bed. You smile softly to yourself when you think of Billy’s hands on your feet—such an un-intimate part of the body that he’d made feel the very opposite—and the way he’d blushed when your lips pressed against his warm skin.
You had a crush.
The last time you’d felt such a thing was when you first set eyes upon Scott at eight-years-old. It was now a foreign feeling to you, but nevertheless felt…good. It made you giddy, warm, excited. You bury your face in your pillow and softly squeal, kicking your feet. You should’ve told him yes to tomorrow. You wanted to see him again. You wanted to see him every day.
At what was now your place. You still somewhat wish he’d never found it, but he seemed nice enough so far. Different. And he clearly likes you.
But he liked hard-to-get, had said as much out loud. Most men did.
It was always a careful, delicate balancing act upon a high tightrope you were forced to walk day-in and day-out. Glances and soft touches, giggles and flirtatious comments, precise body-language that could be easily construed one way or the other. But never so distant that it left them frustrated or wholly uncertain of your feelings toward them.
They always needed to believe they were the ones in control. That you might think you know what you’re doing, but in reality, they always have the upper-hand. That they know how to play the game far better than you ever could. Because you’re just a girl. Some pretty, empty-headed doll or sex-toy, while they rule the world. That you need them.
You’re broken from thoughts of golden curls, pretty eyes, and handsome smiles by a knock at your bedroom door.
You groan. Travis. You’re sure it’s him.
You turn onto your side, snuggling the pillow under your head. “Yes?”
When the door opens, you’re proven correct. He leans his tall, broad form against the doorway, crossing his arms. You notice his typically short dirty-blond hair is just a tad shorter today—he’d gotten a haircut. He’s wearing a gray t-shirt, which just says ‘HPD’ on the front, and jeans. At least he’d bothered taking his shoes off first—they all know how you hate them walking through the house with them on.
He gives you a small, soft smile. “Where you been all day?”
You shrug.
He hangs his head, shaking it with a smirk and a small chuckle before looking to you again. “Should come outside and meet Cyrus. I’ve told him a lot about you.”
That translated to: I tell him the things we do when Amy is away at work, and he’s interested in also getting to know you on such a level.
Honestly, you’re a bit surprised he would do so. He’d made a ‘joke’ the last time you two had had sex last week, asking ‘how to get you all to himself’. You’d told him that that’s not how things work around here. If some newbie—a cop in particular—came along and demanded you all to himself suddenly…it would not end well for him.
You sit up then, on the edge of the bed, and just stare up at him.
He glances around your room, then back to you. “She’s out tonight, pulling a double at the hospital. You could come over. I’ll even make you dinner. Spaghetti?”
Having dinner made for you was also different. It was the other way around with the rest of them. But he’s still new at this. Trying to woo you, even if it’s completely unnecessary. You don’t need presents to get you to spread your legs for him.
You doing so easily and willingly is a pivotal part in all of this—your role to play; cross to bear. It was one more thing that kept them all coming back—kept them working with your dad, even if he’s unaware of it. You think sometimes he suspects—he’d nearly caught you and Scott once on your bedroom floor—but he says nothing of it if he does indeed know anything.
If you ever stopped—decided to start telling any of them no—they wouldn’t take kindly to it. They saw you as something they were entitled to, something that belonged to them. And even if they accepted that: you wanting to stop—albeit reluctantly—the business would fall apart.
Having an attractive young woman to fuck whenever, and however they pleased for free with minimal effort put into your so-called ‘relationship’ was something they wouldn’t be getting anywhere else.
You don’t come home covered in bruises or crying, and haven’t gotten…well, as of two weeks ago you could no longer say that. That was the day you’d found the house. You’d never needed it more than in that moment after getting out of Joe’s truck a nervous wreck after leaving the clinic.
But because you always seemed fine, your dad let it go. Sometimes you wish he wouldn’t.
You cock your head to the side. “It’ll be just us?” Will your buddy be there, too? You’re asking.
He smiles again, nodding. “Yeah, baby, just us.”
“Okay.”
He grins. “I can take you home with me when I’m getting ready to leave?”
You stand, readying an overnight bag, incase you need it. “Just let me know when you’re ready to go.”
He comes closer to you, wrapping an arm around your waist, his other hand tugging gently at the hair at the nape of your neck, easing your head back, his lips coming down to settle over your pulse. He kisses, other hand squeezing your rear and he groans. You feel him pressing into your stomach then, hard and firm.
“I will,” he mutters against your skin, sucking on it for just a moment before stepping back. He winks at you before heading back outside.
You simply roll your eyes once he’s out-of-sight.
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lovetaroandtaemin · 2 days
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Doing This Again!
Bang Chan x Reader
Word count: 3,080 This is part 2 to "Start of Something New?" Part 1 can be found here. There will be a part 3! I ended up splitting it again because I had a bunch of new ideas for what to incorporate and this part got a little bit long. If you would like to be tagged in part 3 comment or dm me with the name that you want tagged. This fic is not beta read. Feedback is appreciated!
This fic includes NSFW themes! Minors DNI!
Warnings: ANGST! Almost cheating, Mentions of previous sexual activity, alcohol consumption. If you think I missed any warnings let me know! Fic is under the cut.
The next morning, you and Chan went to your favorite café for breakfast. You were filled with dread, because you had no idea how the conversation that you two needed to have would go. Chan, on the other hand, could barely contain his excitement and had incredibly high hopes. It might have just been a café date, but this was his chance to show you that he could be better and love you the way you deserved. Both of you ordered your usual drinks and found a place to sit.
“Should we wait for our coffee before we start talking about what happened last night?” you asked, hoping that Chan couldn’t sense your worry.
“We probably should. If the conversation gets interrupted, we might not say what needs to be said.”
“Yeah, exactly.”
“Are you ok, (Y/N)? You seem nervous.”
“I’m ok, Channie. I always get a little worried when big conversations like this happen, but I know it needs to.”
“Whatever happens, I’m really happy that I got to see you yesterday, and that I got to hold you one more time. Even if I never get to again.”
His words made your heart melt. Before the events of the night before, you had thought that you were the only one missing your relationship with Chan. Now you knew with absolute certainty that he had missed you just as much. You really wanted to try again, but you weren’t sure that your heart could take it if the two of you split up again.
“I’m sorry, (Y/N). I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Are you ok?”
“Oh no, I wasn’t uncomfortable,” you quickly replied. “I was just thinking about some things.”
“What things?”
Before you could answer, the barista that had taken your order called your names. You walked in silence to get your drinks, both of you preparing yourselves for the conversation that couldn’t be put off any longer. Chan was the first to speak, asking you what specific things you wanted to address.
“Well, I’d really like to know what happened with Ryujin.”
“Nothing happened between me and her. She tried to come onto me, but I told her that I wasn’t interested. The messages saying ‘I love you’ were all sent by her, and she was the one that said that she knew I would rather be with her. But I told her immediately that it was bullshit and that the only person I wanted was you. I even went through my messages and found the conversation so I could show you that I never did anything with her.”
“Show me.”
He quickly agreed, opened his messaging app, and handed the phone to you. You read all of the messages, and everything that he said was true. You started to feel terrible for thinking that Chan would ever cheat on you. It was embarrassing to look back on how you acted when Ryujin had come to you and told you that Chan had been flirting with her. She had been one of your closest friends at the time, so you had no reason to doubt her. But Chan had never given you a reason to doubt him before that moment either.
“I’m sorry, Channie. I should have believed you.”
“Hey, don’t apologize. I know it’s hard to not believe your friend when something like that happens. I just needed you to know that I never would have done something like that to you. I loved you. I still love you.” The last part was said quietly, but you still heard it loud and clear. Truth be told, you still loved him too.
“I love you too, Channie. What did you wanna address today?”
“Well, I wanna know what you want us to be. I don’t think it needs to be said how much we’ve missed each other, but I need to know what you want going forward.”
“Well, what do you want going forward?”
“I’d really like you to answer that first. I know what I want, but I don’t want my answer to affect yours.”
“Ok. I want us to be together again, but I’m really worried about losing you for good this time. I don’t know if I could handle losing you again.”
Chan sighed and said “Then why don’t we keep things casual for now? I would love for us to go back to how things were, but I don’t want to make you worry about getting hurt again.”
“I think that’s a good starting point. No long-term commitment, no chances of getting hurt.”
“So, I guess that’s settled,” he said with a smile. God, you loved his smile. From the moment you met him his smile made you feel warm and happy.
“Would it be ok to talk about what happened last night?”
“I was hoping we could.”
“I don’t want you to think that sex is the only thing that I want. I want an emotional connection with you, not just a physical one.”
“I never thought that. I think that last night was just the result of a lot of emotions and repressed desires.”
“Probably.”
“Before we talk about anything else, I really just wanna say that I’m sorry. I know that I messed up. The guys have been helping me spend less time in the studio, and Minho has refused to let me go alone. I know that was one of the reasons you left. I promise you that this time I’ll be a better partner to you.”
“I also need to apologize. I wasn’t exactly the best either. I’ve been working through my jealousy problems and trust issues in therapy, and I understand that sometimes you have to prioritize your job. I promise you that I’ll treat you better.”
The two of you sat in a comfortable silence after that, finishing your coffees and processing what had been said. You knew you loved Chan, and you had hope that this time the two of you could make it work. Chan, however, was more hesitant this time. He was terrified of hurting you again, though you would have never known it because he didn’t stop smiling once the two of you agreed to start over. While he was nervous, he was also overjoyed that he could finally call you his again.
Once the two of you were back at the dorm, you knocked on Felix’s door and asked to talk to him. He opened the door and let you in immediately. You pulled him into a tight hug and said that you had news to share.
“What is it? Are you ok? Did something bad happen between you and Chan? Everyone heard you arguing in the kitchen during the movie last night.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say something bad happened between us.”
“What does that mean?” Felix asked, his voice now laced with concern.
“We decided to try again.”
Your best friend was silent for a few moments, and then said “(Y/N), are you really sure that’s a good idea? I remember how miserable you were towards the end of the relationship. I remember how much of a wreck you were after it ended.”
“Honestly, I think that it’s worth the risk. We agreed to keep it casual, and both of us are really trying to be better.”
“Are you sure that Chan is trying?”
“I can only hope that he is. Let me be optimistic just this once. Please?”
“Ok. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy. Just know that if you need anything I’m here.”
“Thank you, Lixie.”
This time he was the one that hugged you. You appreciated his concern for you, but you really wanted to prove him wrong this time. Chan loved you, and you loved him. That had to be enough to make trying again worth it. It had to be enough for you to be able to change what had gone wrong the first time.
Your conversation with Felix had left you a little bit uneasy, so you quickly made your way to Chan’s room. He instantly noticed that something was wrong and asked if you were ok. You told him about what Felix had said and your own concerns that your relationship would go poorly again. His expression changed, and it seemed like he was hiding something. You gently pressed him to tell you what was wrong, and he admitted that he was also worried. “I’m terrified of hurting you again,” he said.
“I know the feeling. I’m worried that I won’t be able to move past my own issues this time,” you replied.
Chan knew that he couldn’t make these feelings go away for either of you. So, he didn’t try to tell you that everything would be ok. Instead, he gave you a tight hug and whispered, “The best thing we can do is try. And I promise you that I will try.” He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead as you relaxed into his hold.
Your quiet moment was interrupted by Changbin loudly knocking on Chan’s door, asking if he wanted to join him and Jisung for an impromptu studio session. He opened the door and politely declined, explaining that he wanted to spend some time with you. Changbin looked at you with poorly hidden shock as he processed what that meant. You gave him a small smile in return and said that you hoped the session went well. Chan said that he would come to the studio later and kissed your cheek as he closed his door.
Before going to the studio, Changbin sprinted to Felix’s room and knocked. When he opened the door, Changbin whispered something that Felix couldn’t quite make out. He asked Changbin to come in and repeat what he said. The second Felix’s door was shut Changbin said, “I think that (Y/N) and Chan are back together.”
“Oh, yeah they are,” Felix replied, “(Y/N) told me a little bit ago that they were gonna try again, but that they’re keeping it casual for now.”
“Chan turned down going to the studio to spend time with (Y/N). Does that sound casual to you?”
This time it was Felix’s turn to be surprised. Chan never turned down a studio session. Maybe this time he was really trying. Felix was still skeptical, but it gave him a small amount of hope to hear that. “Maybe he is doing things differently,” Felix mumbled, mostly to himself.
“I’m actually really happy that they’re back together,” Jisung interrupted. “Bin, are we still going?”
“Yeah, sorry. Just wanted to ask Felix what was going on since he knows (Y/N) better than I do.”
Jisung and Changbin quickly left for the studio, leaving Felix alone with his thoughts. He wondered if Chan had really turned down working for you and thought about what that meant. Maybe you were right. Maybe Chan had changed, and maybe that meant that this time your relationship would be better.
While Changbin had been with Felix trying to find out what happened, you and Chan had decided to watch a movie and cuddle in his bed. The movie was a little bit boring to you, but you didn’t say anything. You were just grateful to have this time together. His arms around you felt like home, and every time he laughed at the movie it was music to your ears. About halfway through the movie, you fell asleep. Once Chan noticed he kissed your head and held you until you woke up, thrilled to be back with the person he loved.
When you woke up an hour or so later, Chan drove you back to your apartment and thanked you for spending time with him and giving him another chance. You hugged him and thanked him for his patience during your earlier conversation. Then the two of you shared a sweet, loving kiss before parting ways. On his drive home, he thought about ways that he could really show you that he appreciated you giving him another chance.
One of the things that he did was schedule a date night with you about a month after you two got back together. The plan was to go to your favorite upscale restaurant. Then, the two of you would go back to the dorm for a bit of quality time before he went back to Australia for a few weeks to visit his family. At least, that’s what you thought was going to happen.
You were wearing Chan’s favorite dress. It was a red, floor-length evening gown with a plunging neckline and a high slit. He went crazy every time you wore it, and you loved having that effect on him. As for makeup, you went with something simple yet elegant, fitting for the restaurant you were going to. Your makeup was almost done when you got a text from him. It said “Going to the studio with the guys to do some last-minute tweaks on a new track. sorry, I promise I’ll be there as soon as I can. I love you.” The message made you wanna throw your phone across the room, but you decided to wait. You had hoped that you would hear from him again in a few minutes, telling you that he was finished or that he had changed his mind.
After 2 hours you had heard nothing, which you had to admit you expected. While your relationship with Chan felt basically perfect up to this point, deep down you knew that something like this would happen at some point. Since you didn’t want to spend the night being sad by yourself, you decided to call Felix. After a few rings, he picked up and said, “Hey, (Y/N)! Is everything ok?”
“Not really. Chan and I had a date planned for tonight, but he went to the studio instead. I called to ask if you wanted to go out or something, since he stood me up.”
“Yeah, of course. We could go to the new club that just opened up across town.”
“That sounds fun. I’ll meet you there?”
“Sounds great. Bye, (Y/N).”
“Bye, Lixie.” You hung up the phone and started to get ready again. The club you were going to was much less formal than the restaurant you had originally planned to go to tonight. So, you changed into a different dress that you knew would draw some attention. It was bright purple, with a short skirt and an obscene amount of glitter. You knew it wasn’t right, but you wanted someone to see you and at least tell you that you looked good. Once you were dressed, you quickly re-did your makeup to look a little bit flashier, then left to meet Felix.
When you got to the club, you immediately hugged Felix and thanked him for coming out with you. He apologized, saying that he was hoping that Chan would be different this time. He smiled and pulled you into the club. You were nervous about being there, but those nerves quickly faded as you heard your favorite song playing. The dance floor seemed so inviting, so you made your way there as Felix ordered his first drink of the night.
As you danced, you completely lost yourself in the music. That’s probably why you missed the multiple calls and texts from Chan. He felt terrible about losing track of time in the studio. A few minutes after you got to the club he tried to call you to apologize and to let you know that he would be on his way soon. When you didn’t answer, he texted Felix to see if you were ok.
At this point Felix was incredibly drunk, so when he told Chan what happened he wasn’t exactly kind. He made sure that Chan knew how much standing you up had hurt you, and that he genuinely thought that Chan would treat you differently this time. Chan texted you one more time to apologize, and then he went back to the studio. He tried to get a little bit more work done to take his mind off of things, but the guilt eating away at him forbade it.
You didn’t see the text from Chan right away either. You were too busy dancing with an extremely attractive guy that made you forget about your pain for a little while. He had told you that his name was Hongjoong, and that he was only in town for a few days. The realization that he didn’t live nearby filled you with a sudden confidence that frankly took you by surprise. After that you flirted with him shamelessly, reveling in the attention he gave you and the knowledge that you most likely wouldn’t see him again.
Hongjoong flashed you a smile and asked if you wanted to go back to his hotel room. For a brief moment you considered saying yes. Then you thought about how badly you had wanted to make things work with Chan, and the guilt started to settle in. You politely declined Hongjoong’s invitation and went to find Felix.
When you found him, he was sitting at the bar and flirting with the bartender. You quietly informed him that you were ready to leave and went outside for a little bit of fresh air before returning home. Felix joined you a few minutes later, saying that he was tired and also wanted to leave. He asked if you were ok, and you quickly nodded. It was obvious that you weren’t ok, but he knew that you would tell him what happened whenever you were ready.
You told him that you were ready to leave and hugged him. You offered to drive him home, but he told you that he would take a taxi. The two of you agreed to text each other when you were home and parted ways.
When you arrived home, you opened your phone to text Felix. Before you could, however, you saw the missed calls and texts from Chan. He hadn’t left a voicemail any of the times that he called, but his texts were all apologies for losing track of time. He swore to make it up to you when he returned home from Australia, and once again guilt started to destroy you. Had you really almost thrown away your entire relationship for a little bit of attention from a hot guy? The realization made you start sobbing as you processed what you almost did to Chan.
Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to hear what you guys think of this one. My next post will probably be chapter 5 of my Shotaro fic. Stay tuned! And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!
21 notes · View notes
iridescentropy · 8 months
Text
i scraped my knee
deep read coated the pavement
you tried to help
stuck your fingers under my skin
pulled, tore, scratched
it didn’t hurt
not when you got to the bone
not when you crawled inside
i like you better in here
there’s so little left of me
i’m so glad it belongs to you
133 notes · View notes
fujii-draws · 2 months
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OKAY! Chatot rant in tags below! Read at your own discretion.
#okay starting from the beginning of where ppl usually dislike him. apple woods chapter.#he doesn’t give hero/partner the CHANCE to explain themselves despite them being relatively good recruits up until that point.#and that legit might be my only gripe with that chapter bc!!! stories need conflict! I LIKE the conflict in apple woods!!!#hero and partner being punished so something they didn’t do!#the misunderstanding! how team skull (Skuntank) actually outplays the main duo with a clever yet rotten trick. I LOVE that it segways into-#one of the more sweeter scenes of guild members looking out for eachother. I LIKE APPLE WOODS CONFLICT.#but chatot just. not giving them a chance. is so dumb.#I’d personally fix this by having a lil montage of hero/partner fucking up on jobs. A LOT. and chatot giving them a pass every time.#and let the perfect apple incident BE the one where he puts his foot down and doesn’t listen to them. bc he’d given them loads of chances.#and doesn’t want to hear any excuse.#but yeah. I legit dont mind him during that chapter except for that really stupid and frustrating moment.#NOW. CHAPTER 17.#UGGGGHHH WHERE DO I BEGIN#Him not believing hero and Partner about Grovyle and the future being in ruin? FINE. ACTUALLY GOOD. BC CHATOT WOULD BE SKEPTIC.#IT FITS HIS CHARACTER!!#BUT WHAT DOES SUCK. IS HIM GOING ‘Dusknoir isn’t the bad guy. he didn’t do anything wrong’#WHEN HE LITERALLY KIDNAPPED HERO AND PARTNER RIGHT I N F R O N T OF HIM.#(​NO LITERALLY. HIS CHARACTER IS IN THE FRONT ROW WHEN IT HAPPENED.)#and him. having the GALL to tell hero and partner they must’ve been ‘seeing things’ and downplaying the HELL they went through.#despite them being missing for hours/days. his own guild recruits. and his angry sprite showing up.#like. I think that’s when I genuinely despised him.#that and him going ‘OH I BELIEVED YOU THE WHOLE TIME HEEHOO :)’ shit was so fucking annoying.#just playing it off as a joke the second the guild started to believe hero and partner.#IMAGINE IF HE W A S ACTUALLY TESTING THE GUILD’S TRUST. SHOWCASING HIM AS THE MORE RESPONSIBLE AND RESPECTFUL RIGHT HAND OF THE GUILD.#and yes. Brine cave he saves hero and partner. but at that point I just didn’t care anymore.#he fucked those two over so much. that I didn’t care what ‘valiant’ sacrifice he had.#and he grills Team Skull for what they did OFF SCREEN. they couldn’t even give us THAT.#<<< THAT or him outright saying sorry would’ve been nice. IKIK his ‘actions’ or whatever but.#eughh again this is all imo. I’m not trying to make people hate him or change their mind.#I’ll get into positives in the second post cause I’m running out of tags
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licantropa · 1 year
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Happy Holidays!!
#Mianite#I’d like to apologize for the tag essay you don’t gotta read all that idk what happened#you know its interesting how red has called jordan ‘skipper Sparklez’ implying that he places them on the same level#especially since both of them have messed with capsize’s ship. but jordan places himself on the same level as capsize#because theyre both captains (which stops being true since capsize demotes him to boatswain)#and capsize makes Tom a captain meaning she places him on the same level as herself (Tom is a captain because he owns a ship btw)#(which btw is why capsize was like ‘you’re leaving my crew?’ to Jordan when he got the ss jerry but technically since he says the ship is#‘for capsize’s fleet’ it belongs to her)#I think the issue with Jordan and Capsize is that he doesn’t actually like her as an individual but as an idea#that idea being ‘having a teammate’ because it’s just been him up until that point.#arguably jordan doesn’t really care about capsizes feelings on things examples of this are#her saying no to getting married but he like ignores that and continues on with the idea that they’re together/ going to get married.#him throwing gold at her and assuming that was all it took to get a date out of her instead of asking (like everyone’s given her gold he#ain’t special) and the ss jerry which was made to impressive her but it’s in a color he likes and also he named it#also him stepping over capsizes boundaries and kissing her#me personally I will not write them having a positive relationship because Jordan’s ruined it for himself truly#I think we as a society need to put more blame on Jordan when it comes to capsizes death by the way#like while he wasn’t the only one in the room BUT he was the only one capable#Tucker was stuck in a hole Tom was being a bitch in the background Red was paralyzed in fear#and when Capsize gets threatened you know what he says? ‘Skipper you gonna do something’ (something along those lines anyways I don’t fully#remember) like he let Furia fucking villain monologue are you serious???#also it’s way more interesting that they don’t get along#or maybe i just like issues idk#feel free to disagree ofc
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philsmeatylegss · 10 months
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Tw
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toothmarqed · 11 months
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fallen prey to saying stupid shit on the internet without thinking and coming off as incredibly rude and insensitive. i feel sick to my stomach. never commenting on anything else ever again. deserve to be squashed under someone’s shoe and ground into powder. in all seriousness this has shocked me so much that i am quitting every platform but tumblr for however long it takes for me to get some sense knocked into my dumb fucking skull
#actually considering deleting the clock app rn#what i said was so so bad and it could’ve been avoided if i’d fucking READ WHAT I WROTE and thought abt it FOR ONE GODDAMN MINUTE#i genuinely feel like i’m going to throw up being seen (fairly. justifiably) as mean is like the worst thing#and i don’t deserve to be wining abt this bc i’m the one who hurt someone but good god#PLEASE make sure that when you say something online you would SAY IT TO THEIR FACE#ive gotten to used to this brusque rude dark humor on the internet that i don’t relaizw using that humor INDISCRIMINATELY WITH STRANGERS is#Not okay#they made a video on it but the video got taken down so i deleted the comment. which might have been more selfish. i don’t know what’s best#-to do in that situation? i’m going to change my fucking username and pfp atp and go off the app entirely because i’m so fucking adhd ames#**ashamed don’t know why is autocorrected to that#ok just deleted the app ‘and all of its data’ so idk if that means my videos (edits) too but atp whatever#maybe it’s impulsive but at least this way i will not know what’s going on ! and never hurt anyone again hopefully. i really hope he saw my#-comments before his response was deleted because i want them to know it was not intentional and i am truly so so sorry#i don’t know how i’m going to function for the rest of the day. i’m going to think about this when i go to sleep for the rest of my life#i feel sick#i’m evil#and being evil isn’t fun silly times it literally makes me want to throw up from how bad i am#too much ranting in the tags and i deserve to be fucking shot in the mouth#but i need somewhere to put this that no one will see this but that is also public so that someone might see and know how sorry i am#feel like fucking bojack horseman#unironically how am i supposed to go on living. how can i live knowing i’m so bad. if i don’t kill myself im being selfish because i’m mak-#-omg everyone deal with my presence and live with a bad person.#i think i’m going too social media entirely except for tumblr maybe bc i can’t or don’t rly talk to anyone on here#i need someone to like give me a good meaning but not in a cathartic way in a way that it genuinely hurts so bad and makes me feel the full#suffering i deserve
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rosicheeks · 1 year
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From the fun asks - 1, 31, 46, 71?
1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk?
more cereal 🥰
31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks.
Ohhhhhhhh I’ll go off in the tags about socks 🥰
46: tell us the worst pun you can think of.
Gee-I’m-a-tree 🤦🏽‍♀️😂
71: what’s your favorite kind of tea?
Honestly I’m not a huge tea person. Mainly cause I haven’t tried many and I want to try them but they expensive and I’m scared I won’t like it hahaha
#honestly I’m not 100% if I do more cereal I think it depends on what kind I’m having#if I’m really craving it I fill my cup all the way up#and yes I said cup cause I like to eat my cereal out of a cup or mug 🥰#ok ok ok SOCKS where do I begin I guess I’ll start with the original questions and if I have anything to add haha#I loooooove socks 🥰 my feet are very particular hahaha and I need to wear a very specific type of sock#like i don’t necessarily mean a specific brand but like sometimes I put my feet into socks and I instantly take them out cause the texture -#is bad or it’s too tight or idk#my ex always made fun of me for my specific sock *things*#I used to be a looooot worse#like I would have to wear the same brand BUT not the same sock cause obviously young rosie thought that was bad luck#so I would refuse to wear the same sock buuut I’d have to wear the same brand or kind of that makes sense???#and then I would want to try and match up pretty colors that worked together hahahaha I’m really weird shhh#also I LOVE fuzzy socks#but uhm I have to wear my normal socks under them cause I can’t stand the texture on my feetsys#but I love how warm and fuzzy they are!#I do sleep with socks if you couldn’t guess from my previous tags hahaha idk when I became so obsessed with socks#I refuse to wear white socks nope sorry#I remember my geometry teacher telling me this pun in like freshman year of high school???#I would LOVE to be a tea person omg#I have a collection of mugs and when I move I want to start collecting more cause cute mugs are 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰#I remember when I was more into vocal training I would drink tea and lemon water#ahhhh the days#I should go back to that I miss it#thank you for the questions lovely!!!#wishing you a lovely day/night 🥰#ask#lovely mutuals
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Hi beloved mutuals would you still love me if I started posting about genshin impact </3
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sttoru · 6 days
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⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. your boyfriend buys you a pretty golden necklace with his initials, not knowing it will only intensify the urge to claim you as his own in every way.
tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. smut, pwp. age gap (reader early 20’s, gojo early 30’s). possessive. talks of marriage. unprotected. breēding kink; crēampies. jealousy. pregnancy kink? reader gets called ‘baby, sweetheart, mama’ not proofread; excuse the grammar. wc: 1.7k
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“look at that, baby,” satoru coos as he watches the golden necklace bounce around your collarbone with each wet thrust. it’s a 24k pure gold necklace he purchased just today, with his initials on it.
something inside him stirred the moment he put it on you. satoru couln’t help himself from pinning you to the couch and claiming you as his own for the nth time. it doesn’t matter how many times he fucks you; it’s never enough.
the letters ‘sg’ are shimmering under the light of the living room. the older man is grinning from ear to ear, nearly cumming from the sight of you wearing that necklace alone. it’s a sign of possession to him. you’re his—you’re only his. he’s the only one who can touch you like this.
“shit, ‘t makes me wanna put a ring on it,” satoru hisses, one of his hands pressing down on your lower tummy. you gasp and clutch at his broad back, nails digging into his flesh quite painfully. “i think i’d engrave my initials on the inside of the ring too, what do ya think?”
each word is punctuated with a thrust. his hips are non-stop ramming into yours, claiming even the deepest spots of your body beneath him. he leans down to trail kisses down your sensitive neck, eliciting a couple whines from your lips.
“d’y wanna get married, sweetheart?” the sudden proposal takes you off guard. you can’t believe satoru would ask such a thing while being balls deep inside you. you’re blabbering nonsense, your voice muffled due to the saliva building up in your mouth.
“m— married? babe, are you ser-” your question is left unanswered as your boyfriend kisses your plump lips. he switches to a slow and gentle pace, grinding into your needy cunt until it leaves you shaking. his fingers play with the golden jewelry around your neck.
a necklace will do. as long as you’ll wear that accessory from this day forward, he’ll be satisfied. the urge to make you his forever partner could be satiated. for now, that is. he knows you still have a bright future ahead of you, like getting your degree and first ever proper job.
“let’s have you finish university first, yeah?” satoru smiles down at you after detaching his lips from yours. he watches the string of saliva hang between your mouths, giving a short hum once it snaps. his big hand slithers down to cup your breast and knead it, kissing your nipple whilst holding eye contact, “i can wait for you.”
satoru sighs as he rolls his tongue around your hardened nipple. he’s drooling over your breasts, a drunken glint in his eyes. he’s so obsessed with you to the point that he’d marry you right now if he could. that proposal wasn’t a joke—but he figured that it also wasn’t the smartest.
he’ll give you a proper and serious proposal one day. though, now you know for sure that he’s gotten into this relationship with the thought of actually marrying you.
“but i also—fuck—can’t wait,” satoru whines, feeling your walls clamp down on his thick cock. his dick is pulsing with need, exploring your squishy insides while his balls prepare to release all semen stored right into your fertile womb. even if you may take a pill to get rid of any unwanted consequences, the thought of seeing your tummy swell with his child is making the older man go insane.
satoru buries his face between your breasts and breathes heavily against your sweaty skin. his hips move with renewed vigour, his energy never depleting when it comes to pleasuring you, “wanna make you my wife ‘n breed this pretty pussy.”
you moan repeatedly, unable to stop yourself. especially after satoru frantically spews such lewd words. he’s getting lost in your cunt and the way it’s swallowing him in—into your pretty pussy that he owns. his pussy.
“wanna be your wife so bad, ‘toru,” you hiccup, nearly crying from the intense pleasure. you’d love to be satoru’s wife. he already treats you so well while you’re his girlfriend, you can’t imagine how much better it’s going to get once you’re officially his. your stomach fills with butterflies at the thought of being able to call him your husband.
the white-haired man chuckles. his blue eyes stare down at you with nothing but love, “yeah? mh, i’ll treat you so well every single day. g’nna come home to you ‘n give you some proper loving.”
satoru can already imagine it. coming home to you after a long day of work, needing a quick release. seeing you greet him at the door will send him into a frenzy. especially if you’re wearing an apron—he’s a sucker for domestic stuff.
you, his wife, taking care of him after a rough day at work. . . it’s a dream come true. he’ll spoil you with materialistic gifts and his unending love so you’ll live a happy life.
oh, don’t get him started on kids. satoru ruts into you like his life depends on it, the hypnotising rhythm of your boobs jiggling in circles is making him drool. having a little family with you is his end goal. you’ll be such a good mother and he’ll be such an amazing dad; a perfect combination.
satoru can already picture the amount of times he’ll dump his cum inside of you, without any restrictions. without you taking a pill or him wrapping a condom around his dick. his libido is going to be at an all time high when the time comes.
even if satoru ages a bit, he’s sure that he’s going to be able to have sex with you non stop. you get him hard without fail every single time. you’re his everything—the apple of his eyes.
your lover nearly chokes on his own saliva. he pushes his cock in to the base, burying it as deep as possible. your fingers curl around the pillow you’re holding for support, your eyes rolling back. his pink tip hit the right spot. that sweet spot that makes you cum without fail.
satoru bites his bottom lip. the way he’s looking at you, with a possessive kind of love and lust, is simply too much. his oceanic eyes are glimmering with need. erotic images flash through his mind of him impregnating you, “going to put a baby into you as soon as you’re ready.”
your tummy fills with butterflies. the way he’s talking to you like you’re already a married couple is making your pussy even wetter than it already is. it’s like it’s begging satoru to give it to you already—to make it store all his cum.
his eyes roll back as he leans his forehead against your shoulder. he has to hold himself back from cumming too soon. he wants to cherish every second spent inside of your warm body. satoru attaches his lips to your breasts again, “mhhh, y’re gonna look so beautiful pregnant, mama. those tits of y’rs. . .”
his voice is barely audible because he’s busy sucking on your nipples. your boyfriend is imagining the pair growing with each semester, filling out perfectly to store milk for the baby.
satoru cannot wait to be the reason why your body will change so much. you’ll be even prettier than you already are, that he can tell already. he’s going to give you gifts every day, to thank you for carrying his child. he’s going to spoil you rotten because you deserve it and so much more.
he can’t wait for the married life with you. many men dread that life, but that’s not the case with satoru. every day of his married life will be spent with his wife—you—and the honeymoon phase will never end. ever.
satoru’s cock is twitching and begging for the much needed release. he pounds you into the couch until you’re screaming in pleasure, feeling him so deep inside you. he’s so big, he’s stretching you out so well to the point of no return. the older man grins at the sight of your already fucked out face, “cunt ‘s gonna be so swollen because of how much i’ll pleasure her—paint her all white with my cum.”
satoru’s nasty words are causing unspeakable things to your body. you’re on the brink of reaching that euphoric state. the dirty talk is too much to handle at this point. your limbs are tingling and your cunt is aching to be stuffed full of his hot semen.
“s-satoru, don’t say such stuff,” you comment in a shaky breath. your head is spinning and your hands desperately reach out to hold onto his shoulders, squeezing the skin. your hips are bucking up lightly, your clit bumping against satoru’s pelvic area with each thrust, “i’m gonna cum if you keep saying that.”
your lover’s grin widens even more. he knows you enjoy it when he whispers such dirty stuff in your ear. that’s mainly the reason why he does it. he’s talked you through multiple orgasms before—it’s quite easy to do so with his husky voice and manly touch.
“that’s fine, baby,” satoru coos and leaves one last, sloppy kiss on your nipple before leaning in to attach his lips to yours. his tongue swirls around yours as you share your spit, the mixture trickling down your chins.
his hips don’t stop. he positions his lower body in an angle that gets you screaming for mercy, which he won’t do. he craves to ruin you on his cock, to see you melt with pleasure underneath him.
“make a mess on my dick while i make a mess inside of you,” satoru encourages you which seals the deal. your body shakes as you feel the waves of pleasure run through your system. you can feel hot ropes of cum nestle deep inside of your cunt. your boyfriend shudders at the sensation and helps you ride your climax out.
he pushes in and back out a few times, lazily, his finger finding your clit to rub until you’ve calmed down. “good girl. y’ took all of it, hm? lovely,” satoru nearly collapses on top of you after the energy leaves his body, careful not to crush you underneath his weight.
he doesn’t bother to pull out. he keeps his cum plugged into you—relishing the moment of ecstasy. even if he can’t fully breed you now, he’ll wait until the day he can.
“i love you, wifey,” satoru kisses your temple, tiredly giggling at the nickname he gave you. in his mind, you are already his one and only woman.
his wife and partner for life.
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falinscloaca · 8 months
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the eternal temptation to pull a ‘men dni’ on main (i.e. here) even though that makes literally 0 sense
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halfvalid · 9 months
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pretty in that
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ABOUT
rating: general audiences
characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!monkey d. luffy | live action!nami
pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader
word count: 4.2k
description: you have a hard time picking a dress for dinner whilst in kaya's mansion. zoro (sort of) helps!
tags: strawhat!reader, female reader, fluff, kissing, confessions, no use of "y/n", special straw hat appearances (nami & luffy), soft zoro
author's note: i'm a sucker for dress-up scenes so i KNEW i was gonna write smth like this once that ep3 scene started playing. reader chooses a dress at the end; dress is non-described so you can imagine your ideal dress!
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You were on Nami and Zoro’s side when it came to whatever was going on in Syrup Village. Kaya’s mansion made you feel vaguely unsettled, and stepping into the building made your heart pound quicker than you would like to admit. But if there was one thing that piqued your interest, it was the order of changing clothes for dinner. You’d been stuck in the same few outfits for weeks now, and the promise of something new—and formal—was nearly exciting, although you’d never admit it in front of Nami and her disapproving gaze. 
Kaya’s kindness combined with the private guest room and bath you were treated to helped soothe your nerves. Soon you found yourself being led to the giant closet the rest of the Straw Hats were already in—Nami was trying on various different pieces, and Zoro seemed to have something in hand too. 
“Ah, there you are!” Luffy said, swiveling on his heel and giving you a big grin as you entered the room. You stared in disbelief at all of the racks around you. Hell, there were even clothes hanging from the ceiling. 
“Well, we certainly have a lot of options,” you said, skimming a hand over a nearby rack. There were a variety of different fabrics, but they all felt expensive: silk and velvet, damasks and brocades. “I don’t even know where to start.” 
“I’m just trying on anything,” Nami called from where she was, before stepping out from the room divider she’d been changing behind. She wore an emerald dress with a plunging neckline, the patterned silk clinging to her curves, and did a little spin. “What do you think?” 
Luffy shrugged. Zoro wrinkled his nose, barely glancing up from the armchair he was lounging on. “I think it looks nice,” you offered, but Nami still seemed dissuaded. 
“Ugh, these two are impossible. What are you going to wear?” 
“Uh, I’m getting there,” you said with a little laugh. “It’s a bit overwhelming; I’d rather help you guys pick first. Luffy, have you found something yet?” You turned towards the man in the center of the room, who nodded enthusiastically. 
“Yeah, I found this!” He raised up a black waistcoat. You frowned at it. 
“Um, Luffy, waistcoats are supposed to be worn with a suit,” you said, then paused, seeing his blank look. “...Never mind.” 
“And I’m wearing black,” Zoro added, despite the piece of clothing slung along his lap definitely not being black. You exchanged a glance with Nami, who just rolled her eyes. They’re stupid, she mouthed, then returned to the rack she was glancing through. She worked quickly, pulling out various numbers that she scrutinized before either setting on the couch beside her or putting back. 
“Okay,” you said slowly. “Need me to find you some pants with that, Cap?” Nami and Zoro let out identical groans as you spoke the pet name, both turning to give you exasperated looks. You suppressed your laugh. 
“Stop calling him that,” Zoro said with a tired sigh. “You’re encouraging him.” 
“Kind of the point, yeah,” you said cheerfully. While Zoro and Nami were both still largely unconvinced about the whole pirate crew thing, you’d joined the bandwagon rather quickly. Zoro rolled his eyes, and you turned towards the racks to find Luffy some slacks. “Assumedly you need something other than that shirt too?” 
“I’ll look later,” Zoro said passively. You watched him out of your peripheral vision. He was outfitted in a patterned kimono, his three swords slung along his lap. He didn’t seem too interested in his surroundings, though what he was doing, you weren’t sure. You let him be, turning to page through the racks of clothes again. Finally you found a pair of slacks that seemed like they’d fit Luffy. 
“Here,” you said, passing them over to him. “And find some shoes while you’re at it.” 
“Why does she even have clothes that don’t fit her?” Zoro murmured, sounding as baffled as he could get. “What, she just casually has clothes in all four of our sizes hanging around?” 
“Rich people own things just to own them,” Nami called. She’d changed again; this dress had a halter neckline and was blush pink. Zoro motioned with a hand at it, and Nami frowned, glancing down at the dress. “You don’t like it?” 
“Eh,” Zoro said. Nami made a face. 
“At this point I think you’re hating just to hate.” She pulled up a few more options, narrowing her eyes as she surveyed them. Luffy was seemingly satisfied with what you’d given him, because he took the pieces off of their hangers and slung them over his shoulder. 
“I’m off,” he announced. “Gonna go change in my room and do some exploring before dinner. Have fun!” With that, he left, and Nami sighed, turning towards you. She held up her final two options—a red cheongsam with delicate gold embroidery and a pastel blue dress with an a-line skirt. You gnawed on your bottom lip as you studied the two.
“I think the blue one might wash you out a bit,” you said eventually; it’d clash with her hair no doubt, and make her skin look even paler. The shade wasn’t a right match with her eyes, either. “I like the cheongsam; I think you should go with that one. It contrasts nicely with your hair.” 
Nami raised up the dress again, inspecting it. “You’re right,” she said, ducking back behind the room divider to change. You started pursuing the racks again; Nami stepped out a few moments later, successfully outfitted in her new dress. “Okay, I’m going to go do my hair in my guest room. Good luck.” 
“Bye,” you called, watching as she left the room. You clicked your tongue, almost alone now and with absolutely zero options of clothing. As much as you liked the idea of new clothes, the abundance of options was starting to seem a little daunting. “Okay, now that Nami’s done, it’s my turn to play dress-up.” 
Zoro laughed from where he sat, and you startled, almost having forgotten he was there. He was watching you attentively, his attention having diverted from whatever it was he’d been thinking about earlier. “You like this kind of thing?” 
“Well, I mean.” You shrugged, peering at a few of the pieces on the rack in front of you. You pulled out a deep green dress, eyeing the lace by the neckline before setting it back. “It’s kind of fun, isn’t it?” 
“Not really what I’m into.” 
“You wear jewelry, so clearly you have some fashionable instinct,” you pointed out, bending over to glance at the clothes hiding by your knees. These were all skirts or unreasonably short dresses, with so little fabric you were uncertain they would cover anything at all. “Unless the earrings are for another reason…?”
“Three swords, three earrings.” 
“Makes sense. What are you wearing with your shirt?” You glanced back to see Zoro’s answer, but he merely shrugged. “Do you want me to find you some trousers? A suit?” 
“You don’t need to find clothes for me. I can do that myself.” Still, Zoro made absolutely no move to do so. You rolled your eyes, but turned your attention back on what you’d be wearing for the dinner. Vaguely you wondered how Zoro would look wearing a suit. You flushed almost as soon as the thought popped into your head, shoving it into the very back of your skull and banishing it from seeing the light of day. 
“If you say so,” you said instead, mostly to distract yourself from the beyond inappropriate thoughts starting to run through your head. Honestly, you barely knew your crew mates—the four of you were close to tearing each other’s throats out before you ran into Buggy, after all. And the fact that Zoro was, well, conventionally attractive—and you tried to keep your thoughts on that and that alone, anything emotional was strictly out of the question—shouldn’t be something your mind lingered on. 
You picked out the first dress that looked to be your size. It was dark purple, backless with a tight trumpet skirt. Ducking behind the room divider Nami had used, you stripped off your clothes, donning the dress. There was a mirror along the other side of the divider, and you turned, trying to appraise the dress on your figure. The color didn’t look entirely right, and you were uneasy about the lack of mobility the skirt might have—Kaya’s staff were still extremely suspicious, after all, and you’d rather be safe than sorry. 
“Let me see,” Zoro called from outside. You tugged at the dress, suddenly nervous, but stepped out after you couldn’t find a good enough excuse not to. Zoro’s eyes ran up and down your figure, and you did a slow circle, showing off the dress. The bare skin of your back prickled. 
“You’re not going to be able to move in it,” he eventually said. 
You huffed out a breath, the nervous energy that had accumulated in your chest leaving with the action. Something in your belly stirred; disappointment, maybe, that Zoro had only commented on the practicality of the dress, not how you looked in it. But you pushed those thoughts away with an angry shove. Not the time, and definitely not the person to be thinking those sorts of things about. “Yeah, that’s what I was worried about. Let me find something else.” 
Zoro’s gaze didn’t flicker from your body as you started across the room, ducking between more racks to find something. “You dead-set on a dress?” 
“I haven’t worn a dress in a while,” you answered, picking out a red one before remembering Nami’s choice and setting it back. “Might as well take the opportunity.” The next one you pulled was blue, all shiny and soft. The material looked like some kind of tender silk. You set it aside to try on. “Why?” 
“Haven’t seen either you or Nami in a dress before.” 
“Actually, you have. I’m wearing one right now and Nami tried like five on earlier,” you said, glancing over your shoulder to shoot Zoro an unimpressed look. He scoffed, though there was a smile at the edges of his mouth as he turned his head away. Your next choice was soft pink, and made of tulle that vaguely resembled a puff pastry. You pulled it up. “Think I should try it?” 
“I mean, pick whatever,” Zoro said, though he seemed mildly disgusted by the amount of fabric the skirt had, all bunched up with layers like something a ballerina might wear. “What are you trying to achieve with the dress?” 
“What am I—I’m trying to look nice, Zoro,” you said, stifling your laughter. You set the pink dress back, replacing it with a sage green number instead. “Not everything has ulterior motives.” 
“You always look nice.” 
You froze, a soft chill curling around the back of your neck. Carefully, you straightened up from where’d you been bent over yet another rack of clothes, turning to look Zoro in the eye. His eyes hadn’t moved. “Oh,” you managed out, throat all dry and tongue like sandpaper in your mouth. “Well, thank you.” 
Zoro cleared his throat, a dull noise he made in the hollow of his throat without even parting his lips. His gaze flickered away. “Yeah. Go try those on.” 
Wordlessly, you stepped back behind the room divider and slipped on the blue dress. It had a texture like water—it was some kind of high-end silk, flexible enough that it was near liquid in movement. The dress itself fell to your ankles, and had a simple square neckline. You stepped outside, doing another slow twirl. “Better,” Zoro said. 
“Better how?” 
“You can probably run in it.” 
You twisted your lips, trying to suppress the urge to turn them down into a frown. “Okay. It’s not doing it for me.” You ducked back behind the divider to change yet again; the sage green one was satin, with long sleeves and a neckline you hadn’t anticipated would be that deep. 
Still, upon exiting the divider and turning for Zoro again, he didn’t have any worthwhile feedback. “It’s kind of plain,” he said eventually, not meeting your eyes. 
You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest; you had to almost resist stomping over to the racks to find something more, and spent another few minutes gathering dresses and trying them on. 
To your immense disappointment, each one garnered little to no reaction from Zoro. You even shoved on one of the tiny, too-little fabric dresses you’d disapproved of earlier, but all Zoro did was scan you from head to toe and say, rather flatly, “you’d get stabbed pretty easily in that.” 
Frustration bled into your nerves as you hid behind the divider again. You glared at yourself in the mirror—your skin had started flushing with how annoyed you were getting, which might’ve been funny had you not been so ticked off. Men, you thought, irritated. Was it really so hard to tell you that you looked pretty? 
He’s a bounty hunter, you had to remind yourself. He doesn’t care about this kind of thing. Besides, he was the last person you should be setting your sights on anyway. You tugged at the short dress, the hem just barely grazing the tops of your thighs. 
You heard footsteps approaching from outside the divider, suddenly too close as you snapped yourself out of the reverie of thoughts you’d been lost in. Zoro turned the corner, arm propped up against the divider edge as he peered in, brows furrowed. “You stopped coming out,” he said. He was still in his kimono, swords tossed over one shoulder. The shirt he had was, assumedly, left on the couch he’d finally stood up from. 
“I’m frustrated,” you told him blandly. His frown deepened. 
“Because of… clothing?” 
You suppressed the sigh that threatened to escape your lungs. “Never mind. I’m fresh out of ideas.” You pushed past Zoro, opting to stand in the center of the room as if analyzing it from a different view would magically give you more options. Zoro turned to stare, still looking perplexed. “With so many options, it’s hard to make up my mind, that’s all.” 
“Uh huh.” Zoro was still studying you. “Did I do something?” 
“What? No,” you said hastily. Too hastily. The words had ripped out of your throat like a hiccup, and you seriously needed to learn how to lie a bit better because now Zoro’s expression was even more confused. “No. Why would I be mad at you?” 
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.” 
“It’s nothing,” you insisted, turning away from Zoro to stare at some of the clothes hanging on the wall above his head. These were too high up to properly look at, and as you stepped back, you glanced through the dresses hanging off the arch of the ceiling. You perused them without too much interest, eyes glancing over the various colors and fabrics until— 
Zoro stepped next to you. “Hey,” he said, and you jolted, head snapping down to look at him. You let out a noise of irritation, then turned your focus back on the ceiling. 
Your gaze flickered through the racks until finally falling on one particular dress hanging by the mouth of the room. It was somewhat hidden, tucked in a little corner beside a few other pieces, but from your vantage point it seemed about your size. 
You took a step closer to it, surveying it with your neck craned. The material looked soft and comfortable but it still retained shape, and the color—even in the dim lighting of the closet—was one of your favorites. The undertone would suit your skin perfectly. And, well, you didn’t want to put all your bets on one dress you hadn’t even touched, but it was certainly promising. 
Zoro stepped past you, barely exerting any effort to reach up and bring the dress down from where it hung up high. “This one, right?” he asked, and you swallowed, some of the annoyances you had towards him dissolving as he extended the dress hanger towards you. You nodded wordlessly, taking it. You stood there for a second before Zoro gestured with his head towards the divider. “Go try it on.” 
You did so, retreating safely behind your wall and stepping out of the little dress. You surveyed the one Zoro had grabbed for you again, heart lodged in your throat. It really was beautiful, and exactly your style; now that you saw it up close, you could safely affirm it was your size too, but nervousness still pulsed through your veins at it. 
Carefully, you slipped it on, adjusting the fabric around your hips and fixing up the neckline to rest evenly on your skin.
Zoro spoke out from the rest of the room. “So why are you mad at me?” 
“I’m not—” you sighed, dropping your arms before returning to fiddle with the dress. “I’m not mad at you.” 
“Is it because I wasn’t being helpful with the clothes? Because I already said that’s not exactly my area of expertise—” 
“It’s not because of the clothes, Zoro,” you said sharply, cutting him off. Zoro clicked his tongue, the sound reverberating around the room and thudding in time with your heartbeat. You turned your attention back onto your reflection. “It’s just me being silly. Don’t worry about it.” 
‘I’m worrying about it,” Zoro deadpanned. You sighed, adjusting the dress one final time before arranging your hair and staring at yourself in the mirror. It fit you perfectly, emphasizing all the right places and hiding all the parts of your body you were more insecure about. “Changed yet?” 
“Yeah,” you said, voice limp. 
“Let me see.” 
You bit your lip, suddenly nervous about how he’d react. Knowing him, it’d be something like it’s okay or the color’s fine; perhaps can you even walk in that? or weird shape if he was feeling a little more critical. Still, you stepped out anyway, not meeting Zoro’s eyes as you spun for him, letting him look at the dress from all angles. When you’d finished posing you glanced up, eyes meeting him tentatively. 
“It’s…” Zoro cleared his throat, ripping his gaze away from the dress on your figure to flicker up to your face. His gaze dropped again nearly as fast, like he couldn’t bear to keep eye contact. “Uh.” 
“It’s what?” you prompted, turning to face the nearest mirror. Your lips twisted into a worried frown, turning to glance at the dress again. Was it really not as perfect as you’d thought originally? “Do you like it? It’s my favorite so far, I think, but if you don’t like it—” 
“You look pretty in that,” Zoro blurted, cutting your rambles off with the strident, too-loud sentence. You froze, eyes flickering to meet him in the mirror. Carefully, he glanced up at you, and you could see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. 
“Oh.” 
Zoro coughed, averting his gaze as you slowly turned around to face him. You couldn’t see properly with the less-than-ideal lighting of the room, but his face seemed to have taken on a ruddier complexion. “I like it,” he said, words softer than they’d been before. “It’s the one.” 
There was a little rush of something through your veins, and you felt vaguely lightheaded. “Okay,” you barely managed to squeak out. “Thanks.” You stumbled back behind the divider, sucking in a deep breath and trying to regulate your breathing. God, this was actually shameful at this point. 
You composed yourself quickly, gathering all the dresses you’d tried on and abandoned to return to their proper places. Zoro was still watching you attentively, and you glanced over your shoulder at him. Sparks prickled along your skin as your eyes met. “What?” you asked. 
“You’re acting weird.” 
“Am not.” 
Zoro stood up, rolling back his shoulders and stretching his head from side to side. He glanced through the racks and, without even a minute’s hesitation, plucked a suit jacket and matching pants out from beside him. “Yeah, you are. What’s up?”
“You’re just grabbing those without thinking about it?” you demanded, eager to change the subject. Zoro rolled his eyes.
“I picked them like fifteen minutes ago,” he said. “Just didn’t grab them until you were done your whole… thing. Now spill it. You’re all red again.” 
You swiveled towards the closest mirror, unable to suppress your gape as you saw that your skin had indeed turned a distinctive shade of scarlet, flushed undertones creeping their way up your skin. It was entirely recognizable even in the terrible lighting. Even your skin was treacherous, now. “Nothing,” you muttered, unable to meet Zoro’s eyes as you spit it out. “I was annoyed because you weren’t telling me what you thought of the dresses.” 
“I… did, though?” Zoro said, perplexed. You let out a grating sigh, cheeks flaring even hotter now that he was forcing you to confess the entire extent of your sins. 
“Yeah, like, practically,” you said, wrapping your arms defensively over your chest. “You’ll get stabbed in that so easily. You won’t be able to walk. I just wanted you to tell me that—” you cut yourself off with another groan. “Don’t make me say it.”
Zoro blinked. “I have no idea what you’re edging towards, so you’re going to have to say it.”
“I just wanted you to tell me I looked nice!” you finally burst out, turning so you wouldn’t have to look at Zoro’s face. God, you were going to have to quit the Straw Hats after this. It was so entirely stupid. 
“But—” There was a laugh in Zoro’s voice, and you glared down at the floor, all of your dignity having left you by this point. You had no shame left to feel anymore. “I said ‘you always look nice’. Doesn’t that insinuate—” 
“That’s not the point,” you said hotly, tone almost argumentative now. “I wanted you to think I looked pretty in a dress, Zoro.” 
Zoro didn’t respond for a moment, brows creasing and face taking on a baffled expression. “But why—” Zoro cut himself off, and you turned even redder, holding your breath as he finally connected the dots. A single word fell from his lips, like a soft breath of air as he spoke. “Oh.” 
“Oh,” you muttered under your breath, unable to stop the almost whining tone your voice took on. Zoro stepped closer to you, a hand wrapping around your wrist and forcing you to look up at him. 
“I said you looked pretty in this one.” 
“I know,” you insisted, still all red, “which is why I’m not totally mad at you, but—” 
“You looked pretty in all of them,” Zoro said. He didn’t look bashful, per se—you didn’t think Zoro could get shy—but his voice was low, all hoarse in a more tentative way rather than one of his grating remarks this time. “For the record.” 
Your breath caught. 
“This one’s my favorite, though,” Zoro muttered. And then he was leaning down to kiss you, the ghost of his lips just on the corner of your mouth. You gaped up at him in shock as he averted his gaze, staring at some spot about your head. “Was that—” he started, before clearing his throat and trying again with a little more of his dignity this time. “Was that okay?” 
“Yes,” you blurted fervently, and before you could fix up the moment with something more, well, suitable, your big mouth ruined it for you. “But I think we’re holding up dinner. You should get changed, and I still need to find shoes.” 
You bit your tongue immediately after the words had been said, but it was too late—Zoro coughed, turning away from you. You panicked, and now it was your turn to grab his arm and tug you towards him. “Wait!” 
Zoro glanced down at you, perplexed, and then you leaned up to kiss him square on the mouth. He stumbled back, surprised, but adjusted quickly, hand going to cradle the back of your neck and pressing you right to him before you finally broke apart. 
“You should steal it,” he started. You stared up at him in question. “The dress, I mean. You should steal it.” 
“When am I ever going to need to wear this again?” you asked, perplexed. Zoro shrugged, fingers tugging at the edge of the dress's neckline. 
“Dunno. Just take it. She probably won’t even notice.” 
“You’re adorable,” you teased; Zoro wrinkled his nose but didn’t complain, opting instead to move away and pick up the clothes he still hadn’t changed into. “Go change. See you at dinner.” 
“Yeah,” Zoro said, his eyes not straying from your figure as you ducked out of the room. Before you could fully leave, though, Zoro grabbed your wrist, spinning you around towards him.
You didn’t have enough time to ask what he was doing when he leaned around to kiss you one final time, his hands cradling your face as your lips moved against each other. It was only a moment later that he stepped away, looking rather sheepish but not very apologetic as he finally let you go. 
“You look more than pretty,” he murmured, eyes sinking into yours, and your throat dried, any words you might’ve formed dying away within seconds. “You always look more than pretty. You look gorgeous.” 
“Thank you,” you whispered, and then he ducked back inside the closet to change. 
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© halfvalid 2023
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kaciidubs · 4 months
Text
Ass or Tits?
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❣ Summary: The question of 'ass or tits' never truly mattered when you had a group of men who loved all of you. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 6.4k ❣ Warnings: Poly! OT8 x Reader, smut, humor, fluff, light Dom/Sub dynamics, creampie(s), squirting, cum play, referenced after care ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Usual first name + pet name references for the members, Reader is referred to as Baby, Mommy, Miss, Princess, Good Girl, Bunny, Bub, Kitten, Jagi, Noona, lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist
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“Hey, Hyune?”
The artist hummed as he sketched away at his desk, “Yeah?”
“What do you like better, ass or tits?”
He froze, dropping the charcoal pencil as your words ran through his head on repeat.
“Your ass or tits?”
There was no way he was about to get caught in an infamous partner discourse, not after years of being immune to other futile debates brought on by a certain freckle-faced fairy.
You scoffed out a laugh, rolling onto your stomach from your resting place on his bed, “I mean, I’d hope you’d be talking about my ass or tits, Hyunjin.”
Hyunjin whipped his head toward you, eyebrows pushing to his hairline, “W-Well how am I supposed to know!?  This is one of the questions every person dreads! You’re expecting me to pick one or the other on one of my favorite people in the world? What then? Are you going to ask me ‘acrylic or charcoal’? Because I’ll have you know, those are two very different mediums and-”
“Hyunjin, baby - it’s just a question!” Stifling a chuckle, you shook your head, “It’s not like I’m going to ban you from sex if you pick something I didn’t expect - I’m just curious, you know? All of you have different preferences and even though after two years I can kind of make a good guess, I wanna hear it from the sources.”
His shoulders relaxed, visibly slumping in his chair and running his cleaner hand through his short hair, “You’re stressing me out, muse! Why didn’t you lead with that?!”
You rolled your eyes, “I’m so sorry, my little drama queen - now, pick!”
Dark eyes scanned your figure, his head cocking to the side and if you looked closer you could’ve seen the gears turning in his brain.
“Mm… Tits.”
“I knew it.”
“Wha- What’s that supposed to mean?! Are you calling me basic?”
“No, my prince, I’m calling you predictable,” getting off of the bed, you walked toward him and pinched his cheek lovingly, “you grope Changbin’s chest like it’s your job, and there’s rarely a moment your hand isn’t on my chest when we’re cuddling. Now, go wash up - we’re meeting in Chris’s room.”
With a quick kiss to the crown of his head, you walked out of his room with your phone in hand, thumbs typing away in your group chat.
|❣️: Chris’s room asap 💋
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“So… Is there a reason why we were summoned? To Chan’s room, no less?” Minho hummed inquisitively, picking up a small souvenir from the eldest’s dresser and turning it in his hands.
“If this is an intervention about League, I swear I didn’t mean to yell that night - I honestly didn’t think anyone heard me!” Came Felix’s whine of defense, already making himself a home on the California king bed, “Seungmin was throwing the game on purpose and I was losing against this stupid-”
“That’s crazy.” Seungmin gaped, faux shock on his face as he purposefully rolled on top of the Aussie, a muffled groan getting caught in the midst of it all. “I told you not to put too much trust in me!”
“Lixie, hate to break it to you, but this definitely isn’t an intervention, but we’ll come back to that point later.” Clapping your hands, you took in the rest of the members who either piled onto the bed, doubled up in Chris’s computer chair, or stood against the door frame. “Anyways - I called you guys here because I have a question!”
“I’d peel a pineapple for you if you asked.”
The room went silent as all eyes shot to Jisung who was currently seated in Minho’s lap, a triumphant smile on his pretty lips.
“I… No, Jisung, it’s not that question, but I’ll remember your answer when I do ask.” Willing away the confused looks sent your way, you cleared your throat, “The actual question is; which do each of you like better - my ass, or my tits?”
The room broke into an uproar, various voices speaking over one another as some questioned the validity of the question while others argued their respective points.
“Noona, you really think we can just pick one thing to like about you?”
Minho scoffed, “I can - her ass, easily.”
“Oh… Shit, you’re right.”
“Jeongin?! Weren’t you just saying you couldn’t pick?!”
“Hyung, that was before I was reminded of how her ass looks in her pajama shorts - you can’t tell me that’s not the hottest sight.”
“I can because I chose her tits!”
Felix laughed, holding his hand up for an air high-five, “I was gonna pick her tits too, Jinnie!”
“This is the stupidest conversation I’ve ever heard,” Seungmin mumbled, throwing an arm over his face, though it did nothing to cover the redness of his ears.
“Bunny, you know you’re more than just your body parts, right?”
You nodded enthusiastically, “Binnie, I’m well aware - I’m just asking for the fun of it, it’s nothing deeper than that!”
Changbin hummed, fluffy curls shifting with the movement, “In that case, I’m team ass - it’s just so cute and round and-” He lifted his hand, squeezing the air as if it were your ass cheeks with a dreamy sigh, “-god, I love it.”
“Okay but, what if we can’t pick?” Jisung piped up, a soft pout puffing his cheeks, “There’s no way I can just choose one - look at you, you’re fucking sexy, Jagi!”
“The oral fixation says boobs, Han, there’s no way out of it.”Felix deadpanned from his place on the bed, his head turned to nail the man with a mischievous glint, “Trust me, I know.”
The latter’s eyes flicked to your t-shirt, tracing the outline of your breasts in the loose fabric with ease. “Yeah… Yeah, you’re right - her tits are amazing.”
“Alright, Chan and Seungmin, you two are the only ones left - make your choice!” Hyunjin demanded lightly, gesturing his hand toward your body from his seat next to you, “Tits or ass? Ass or tits? Which one is it?”
“I’m not playing this game,” the youngest of the two mumbled, his position unchanged.
“Oh, come on, Seungmin! She said it herself, it’s just for fun, she won’t take any offense to what you choose,” Felix prodded, wiggling his body next to his boyfriend, “and we won’t make fun of you if you pick something we didn’t expect.”
“Yeah, puppy,” reaching down, you threaded your fingers through his black hair, “whatever you pick is fine with me, and if anyone makes fun of you for it, they won’t get anything from me for a week.”
That roused a small chuckle from him as he moved his arm, looking up at you with soft eyes, “Really? You think you could go that long?”
“For my Seungmin? Of course. Now, which is it, baby?”
His lips quivered, struggling between forming words and keeping his solitude until he finally murmured, “I like your thighs.”
“That wasn’t even an-”
You quieted Hyunjin with a glare, “Finish that sentence and that’s the only thing you’ll be finishing near me, Hwang.”
“Aw- I wanna change my answer, her thighs are fucking amazing too!” Jisung all but wailed, practically having a full on meltdown, “When you’re eating her out and she wraps them around your head like earmuffs - they’re so warm but you can’t hear her moans when she does it so it’s just a horrible, beautiful curse!”
“No changing your answer, Sungie, you’re still team tits.” 
Now, all the attention was directed to the only one left; Chris, still leaning against the doorway of his room with an embarrassed flush on his face - nothing preparing him for this conversation that pulled him from the sanctity of his laundry run.
“Well, Chris? What do you like?” You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing, knowing full and well that everyone already knew what their boyfriend would pick.
“Ah- You’re seriously going to make me say it?!”
“Come on, Chan, we all said ours, no matter how obvious,” Changbin sent a side eye in an unbothered Minho’s direction, “some of ours may have been.”
The eldest sighed, dropping his head before bringing it up once again, “I like your ass, baby.”
Scoffing, Felix crawled across Seungmin to get closer to you, “I don’t understand how you guys can pick her ass over these,” his hand quickly found home over one of your breasts, gently squeezing the mound over your shirt and earning a shocked gasp in return, “like, how could you not want to suffocate in them?”
“Especially with how sensitive her nipples are?” Hyunjin chimed in, claiming your other breast with his larger hand, jiggling and watching the ripples from your shirt in response.
“Oh my god- The sound she makes when you suck on them?” The bed dipped with a new weight, Jisung making his way onto the bed, causing Jeongin to crawl over and straddle Seungmin. “You guys are seriously missing out.”
Changbin groaned, “It’s not like we don’t like them, we just love her ass more, there’s a difference, Ji.”
In the meantime, you couldn’t help the small sighs of pleasure escaping you as the duo continued to fondle you over your shirt, Jisung taking the hem into his hands.
“Can we, Jagi?”
You nodded happily, “You can, Sungie.”
Hyunjin and Felix pulled back as he lifted your shirt up and off, tossing it off the edge of the bed without a care in the world - why would he, when your tits were on display for him and the men that admired them?
“Why don’t we all take the chance to really admire our favorite parts about you, my muse?” 
Hyunjin’s sultry voice easily floated through the air, the hidden implications more than enough for the atmosphere to ignite with lust.
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“Are you ready, angel?”
You blinked up at Felix with dazzling eyes, a small smile tugging at your lips, “Of course, Lixie.”
In the background, you could hear the familiar sounds of panted breaths and the rustling of clothing, but you wouldn’t dare to turn your head from the scene in front - or, rather, above you. 
Hyunjin took the role of straddling your torso while Felix and Jisung kneeled at the sides of your head without even a hint of the clothing that once covered their bodies.
“Innie, can you pass me the lube?”
Jeongin broke from Seungmin’s lips with a groan, narrowing his eyes, “Why can’t you just spit on it, Hyung? I’m kind of in the middle of something here.”
“Because I asked you to? If I felt like spitting I would’ve done it already,” Hyunjin spoke matter-of-factly, catching the glimpse of Jisung guiding his dick into your mouth from the corner of his eye, “don’t be a smartass!”
“Smarta-”
The youngest was unceremoniously flipped onto his back, the black haired singer reaching into the nightstand and tossing over a bottle of lube with a huff.
“Seriously, it was never that big of a deal, you brat.”
Snatching up the tube, Hyunjin wasted no time in squeezing a generous amount between the valley of your breasts, humming out a small apology when you jumped at the cold gel on your skin.
“Forget what I said,” Jisung moaned softly, watching the way your cheeks puffed and hollowed with each drag of his cock, “your mouth is my favorite part.”
Pulling off of him with a pop, you pumped him with your right hand and tossed him a teasing smirk, “You’re still team tits, Sungie.”
Turning your head, you eagerly welcomed Felix’s dick with an eager tongue lapping at the precum beading the tip before taking him in one fell swoop.
“That doesn’t take away from the fact that your mouth is fucking amazing, sunshine.” Felix groaned, bringing a hand to cup your cheek as he lightly thrust into your leisurely bobs.
“Especially for the fact that we’re here for these.” Hyunjin’s lube covered hands squeezed your breasts around his length, the swells positively shining as they sandwiched his cock in an unparalleled warmth.
It wasn’t long until an unplanned rhythm was found between the four of you; alternating between blowjobs and handjobs for the sunshine twins while a certain artist busied himself with a simple rhythm of humping your chest.
In the meantime, Changbin managed to swap positions with Minho for the chair, sitting the second eldest in his lap and littering slow kisses paired with sharp nips along the length of his neck while he watched the show before them.
“Chan, you’re not going to just stand there the whole time, are you?” Minho mused with a raised eyebrow, noting the way the eldest hadn’t even moved a muscle from his spot near the door.
Chris hesitated for a moment before shaking his head, “No, but I’m doing laundry - I don’t wanna get sidetracked and forget about it in the wash, you know?”
There was a disinterested hum followed by a huff he knew all too well, and he found himself pushing off of the doorway with a breathless laugh.
“You have such a way with words, you know that?”
Smirking, Minho shrugged, “I know, it’s a talent.”
Standing in front of the two - and inadvertently blocking the once flawless view - Chris planted his hands on the armrests of the chair before leaning down to catch Minho's lips in a slow kiss, just to part a moment later to do the same with Changbin over his shoulder.
“A-Ah- Tighten your hand a little, Jagi.”
“You have hands,” Hyunjin panted, licking his lips as he watched his pink tip repeatedly disappear and reappear, “help her out- fuck, Lix…”
The blond hummed against his neck, licking at a blossoming hickey, “‘M sorry, just feels so good.”
“Hyune, move your hand a bit.”
Abiding the request, Hyunjin slid his hand to the outer swell of your breast while Jisung licked his fingers before easily finding their way to your nipple, gently rolling the nub between his finger and thumb.
The moan you let out was instantly muffled by Felix’s cock, which in turn made him grit out a shivering groan, “F-Fuck, I’m gonna come soon.”
“M-Me too,” Jisung nodded frantically, eyes trained on the way his hand enveloped yours as he fucked your fist, “gonna paint those pretty tits of yours, Jagi.”
It only took a handful of strokes before Felix was drawing from your mouth with frantic breaths, Jisung slipping from your soiled hand to take over the rest of the job as they both aimed for your chest.
“God, look at how gorgeous they look wrapped around Jinnie’s dick.”
“They were just made to have a dick between them, huh?”
You groaned helplessly, bringing your hands to cover Hyunjin’s and squish your breasts together more, “C-Come on, show mommy how much you love her tits.”
If there was one thing to get them to fall, it was that title - and, like a harp string being plucked, they both came with a sharp gasp and a guttural groan, cum spraying across your breasts and a few drops even landing on your fingers.
Hyunjin shivered above you, eyebrows drawing together with the silver eyebrow piercing catching the glint of the light.
“I can see you’re close, Hyune,” squeezing his hands lightly, you watched as Jisung and Felix flocked to him, hands wandering his chest while lips danced along his shoulders and neck, “come for Miss, my prince, make a mess of me.”
A choked moan fell past his lips as his hips stuttered before he lifted himself onto his knees and came against your breasts, his cum joining the mess of the other two with ease and creating an intricate pattern of white along your skin.
Jisung dipped down to lick a fat stripe through the cum, collecting as much as he could onto his tongue before pulling Felix in for a beautifully messy kiss above you - then repeated the process with Hyunjin, leaving you in a state of horny awe.
“Seungmin, you’re up next.” Felix called happily, swiping his thumb along your breast before presenting it to your lips and watched as you eagerly licked it clean. “You’re so kinky.”
You stifled a laugh, giving the pad of his thumb a soft kiss, “You’re one to talk.”
The trio moved away to make room for the thigh connoisseur, watching as he untangled himself from Jeongin and shuffled between your legs - your pajama shorts and underwear having already met the same fate as your t-shirt moments ago.
“I… I don’t think I’m gonna last long,” he mumbled quietly, a strawberry blush turning his ears as he nudged the leaking head of his cock against the plush of your inner thigh. “Might’ve pushed it a bit too close with Innie.”
“That’s more than okay, pup,” reaching your hand out, you grabbed the lube before handing it to him, “if it bothers you, you can always have a round two later, okay?”
Seungmin nodded dutifully, taking the lube from you while tapping your legs, prompting you to lift them both and lean them on his chest; pouring a generous amount of lube in the palm of his hand to coat around his length.
With a bit of maneuvering, he had both of your calves resting on his right shoulder with his dick nestled in the tight space between your thighs and just above your pelvis - if you focused hard enough, you could feel the heat of his balls against the lips of your pussy.
“M-Mm, fuck…” Wrapping his right arm around your legs, his left hand went down to grip the outside of your thigh, squeezing the flesh as he jutted his hips forward with a quiet moan.
You watched on as he fucked your thighs in quick, sharp thrusts, brown eyes fogged and unfocused as he began to chase the high that was undoubtedly close.
“Good puppy, my good puppy - love my thighs so much, hm? Maybe one of these days I should get you to hump one, would you like that?”
You could clock the faint twinkle in his eye from a mile away, catching the subtle pout of his lips as his body rocked against yours without rhyme but with the sole reason of finishing.
His blush now crawled across his face, tinting the apples of his cheeks as his eyes found yours, “Really?”
Humming, you flexed your thighs, “Really, pup, I’d love to watch you ride me.”
He whimpered, blunt nails digging into your skin as his head dropped to nip at your ankle, “W-Want that, bub - want it so bad.”
“Then it’s yours, Minnie. I’m all yours.”
The next thrust forward had ropes of white streaking up the length of your stomach, breathless moans hidden behind firmly pressed lips as Seungmin shook against your legs, tensing and shaking with each wave until he finally relaxed with a shaky breath.
“You okay, pup?”
Nodding, he gave you a soft smile, “Yeah, but you better not forget your promise.”
You laughed, accepting a kiss to your ankle as a parting gift as he moved away from you and into the arms of a lounging Hyunjin - the comment of him being “disgustingly sweaty”, and Hyunjin’s response of “Then get off of me!”, not going unnoticed in the process.
Turning your gaze to the ceiling, a knowing smile grew on your lips, “Do I even have to ask who’s going next?”
“Nope!” Sliding into view came your darling bread, a smug grin on his lips as his face hovered over yours, “You don’t even have to guess, I’m already here.”
Bringing your hand to his jaw, you lightly scratched your nails under his chin, “Of course you are, maknae - so, how do you want me? Doggy style? Reverse cowgirl? Some secret third position I have yet to learn?”
Judging from the sparkle of his eyes the instant the second option left your lips, he had his decision already cut out and you laughed at his inability to be discreet.
“Alright, I guess this is to make up for slacking on leg day, isn’t it?”
Jeongin rolled onto his back, watching as you straddled him with ease, “You’d have to ask Changbin Hyung about that, Noona - you were the one who suggested it anywa- ah!”
You didn’t need to waste time in teasing yourself as your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, lining it up with your severely neglected pussy before sinking down in one fell swoop - a satisfied moan leaving your lips.
“O-Oh god, maybe this wasn’t a good idea…”
“Oh? And what makes you say that, baby?”
Of course, you already knew the answer judging from the way his calves tensed, his toes curled and - less externally obvious - the way his dick twitched inside of your warm walls.
“Noona, please-”
“Have a little too much fun with Minnie, huh? Got yourself all excited while you were waiting?” Clicking your tongue, you rolled your hips teasingly, “I bet you were touching yourself while Seungmin was having his turn, weren’t you, baby boy?”
He whined, tossing his head back with a groan, “Just- Just give me a minute, I swear I’ll last!”
Humming, you waited a few seconds before shaking your head, “Sorry, Innie, if you come early then that’s just how it is - just lay back and enjoy the view, okay? This is what you wanted, remember?”
With no other choice, the sounds of your joined moans soon filled the room as you rode him with one goal on your mind.
“Fuck, look at that view…” Neither one of you were aware of Changbin’s sudden presence beside the bed as he leaned beside Jeongin, basking in the sight of your ass jiggling with each bounce. “I’ll never get over it.”
“I-” Jeongin whimpered, short huffs of breaths escaping him, “T-This is the first time-”
“-she’s ridden reverse cowgirl?! IN-ah, what were you waiting for?!”
“It’s not that he was waiting,” you laughed breathlessly, though the clench of your pussy earned a moan in its wake, “he was just too excited to try everything else that normal positions were at the bottom of his list.”
“What a shame, wasting his chance like this.”
Lifting your head, you were now met with the sight of Minho directly in front of you, keen eyes unblinking as he took you in with a smirk.
“Is it a waste, Min?” Slowing your bounces to languid strokes, your head tilted prettily to the side, “I’d like to think of it as an introduction to what future chances would be like.”
This time, his smirk reached his eyes, brown irises sparkling with amusement, “You naughty kitten.” His hand cupped your cheek as he dipped down to steal a kiss, nipping at your bottom lip in the process.
You preened at the sensation, but the moan that followed came from the firm grip on the swell of your ass cheek, the hand and the pressure stemming from two different forms of familiarity.
“See? What did I tell you?” Changbin smirked, squeezing his hand over Jeongin’s to tighten his grip on your ass, “You can watch all you want, but the real fun is in touching.”
The younger groaned out a desperate sound, “‘M g-gonna-”
At the hint of his confession, you forfeited the feeling of Minho’s lips on yours for the opportunity to go back to bouncing on Jeongin’s dick without abandon, fisting the sheets to distract from the unyielding burn in your thighs.
“-a-ah- p-please- N-Noona, oh god, I-” He cut himself off with a choked gasp, hips canting as his orgasm took him by storm.
A hum of satisfaction vibrated past your lips as his warmth filled you, stilling to spare him the overstimulation for the time being. “Feels so good baby, you never disappoint.”
Once the incessant twitching of his cock died down, you lifted yourself off of his lap, shivering at the sensation of his load slowly seeping out of you and dribbling back onto his spent dick.
“So,” you breathed, looking between the two men currently surrounding you and shooting a glance toward Chris, “who’s next?”
The answer to that question was a very smug Minho, excitement thrumming through your veins as he nodded his head toward the edge of the bed - the silent command leading you to find yourself to where you currently were now.
“Minho!”
Your nails clawed at the sheets, the mattress rocking along with your body as the black haired man fucked into you like a man possessed.
“It’s only fair that someone gives you your first orgasm of the night, kitten,” he drawled, thumbs digging into the small of your back as he held you impossibly tighter, “why wouldn’t I make sure that it’s me giving it to you?”
Your body couldn’t decide between attempting to run away from his powerful thrusts, or submit yourself to the fiery pleasure that hoped to consume you, until you felt the warmth of his hands sliding up your back, past your shoulder blades, and along your forearms.
Like a slab of clay for him to mold, he maneuvered your arms behind your back and pinned them with one hand, the other going back to its home on your hip as he aimed long, precise thrusts to a spot he was well acquainted with.
The side of your face melted into the mattress, tears of pleasure blurring your vision, as any sound you’d hoped to make dissolved into hiccuped breaths and encouraging mewls.
Minho grunted, clenching his jaw as he felt the telltale signs of your orgasm begin to shine through, “That’s it, kitten, give it to me.”
Your legs trembled, pussy fluttering and clenching with each passing second until your body tensed with a cry of his name falling from your spit-shined lips.
He welcomed the new wave of arousal coating his dick and adding to the already sloppy glide of your cunt, wet slaps sounding through the room as he fucked you through your high with a breathless chuckle.
“There it is.”
Grip tightening on your wrists, his hips met yours a number of times before he pulled out with a gasp, jacking himself off with his free hand and coming along the curve of your ass and thighs - much to your delirious chagrin.
“Why…?” You whined breathlessly, wiggling your hips for further emphasis - not that he needed it.
Minho released your wrists to land a swift smack to your unsoiled ass cheek, a satisfied smile curling his lips from the squeak you let out. “Because I wanted to - you still have two people to fill you the way you wish, kitten, let’s not get too greedy, hm?”
There was a slew of giggles and chuckles from the onlookers, and you tried your best to send them your best glare, though your efforts were in vain as you felt a pair of hands caressing your thighs.
“Get up on the bed for Binnie, bunny.”
You obeyed with no hesitation, already knowing which position you would be set in for the remainder of the session as you turned to tuck a pillow under your chin, bringing your knees up and out to sit your hips high in the air and dip your spine into a fine arch - pretty and presentable.
“God,” Changbin groaned, scrambling to fill in the space behind you as fast as he could, “I’ve been waiting so long to get you like this, bunny, you would not believe.” His firm hands instantly went to cup your ass, spreading your cheeks further and sucking in a breath at your glistening hole. “So fucking pretty…”
“Binnie.”
Your insistent, warning whine hadn’t fallen on deaf ears, and he wasted no time in notching the fat head of his dick to your fluttering walls.
“Alright, bunny, deep breaths for me.”
Of course, you already knew the drill, having grown custom to the mind numbingly delicious stretch only he was capable of giving you, but the reminder never failed to stir the swarm of butterflies in your stomach.
With a deep inhale, your slow exhale was followed by him sinking past your walls, each inch slowly stretching your cunt around his girth.
It wasn’t long until he was fully seated inside of you, and with warm hands kneading the flesh of your ass, he drew his hips back before snapping them forward, punching a moan from the depths of your lungs.
Even if you were still tingling with the aftershocks of your orgasm, you were still begging for more with each whimpered moan and choked gasp as your body seemed to melt deeper into the arch you had set.
“Look at you, can’t get enough of us, can you?” Changbin goaded, though his tone was soft and warm, “It’s okay, we can’t get enough of you either, bunny.” He lifted his hand to slap the swell of your ass, before gripping the flesh, “You and this ass of yours.”
A shiver shot down your spine as his hand slipped, his thumb caressing the inside of your cheek and just barely grazing your asshole - a temptation that had shown its face among a few of the boys before, but was never fully dwelled on by them nor yourself.
“I’m curious, bunny,” he hummed, slowing his fast thrusts for laxed, deeper ruts, “would you ever let one of us use this other pretty hole of yours?” Sliding his hand further, he pressed his thumb against the tight ring just enough to burn the fantasy into a possible reality, “Would you let Binnie fuck this pretty ass?”
You nodded frantically, your hands gripping onto the poor pillow below you, “Y-Yes! Yes! I-It’s all yours, Binnie - want it so bad!”
His signature, triumphant laugh filled the room as he tossed a glance to his boyfriends, “Hear that? I get first dibs.”
“You can’t just ask her questions like that!” Jeongin groaned, a stern pout set on his lips, “She agrees to anything if you fuck her long enough!”
“Yeah, how else do you think Felix managed to stay up late enough for his Apex tournament that one time?”
“How am I always being brought up here?!” The blond scoffed as he lightly shoved Hyunjin, crossing his arms over his lithe chest, “But, I mean, yeah - three orgasms can get you a pretty good deal.”
Jisung hummed inquisitively, before narrowing his eyes, “But did you win?”
“He won,” Minho huffed, a smirk curving the corners of his lips, “and he gave her head the next morning, I could hear her moans from the kitchen.”
Muted thumps of the headboard began to grow in frequency until a low groan interrupted the riveting conversation - Changbin hunching over your body as his muscles tensed, shivering while he filled you with his seed.
“God, fuck,” he hissed, rolling his hips against yours while your walls fluttered around him, clenching from the orgasm that was just moments away. “You’re too good to us, you know that, bunny?”
You huffed out a breathless laugh, stifling a moan as his hands massaged your lower back out of its arch for a moment of respite, “I-I’ve been told once or twice,” turning your head, sultry eyes landed on the final man of the hour, “but you guys are worth it.”
Chris flushed under the heat of your gaze, just barely catching Changbin’s teasing “Don’t break her back, Chan.”, as he climbed onto the bed and took the space previously occupied by the rapper.
“Think you can stay in this position one more time, baby?” He mused softly, caressing the warm skin of your back before gliding his hand down to the curve of your ass.
Without answering him, you spread your knees and tucked yourself into a deeper arch, wiggling your hips to further entice the man behind you.
“Yeah,” Seungmin chuckled, lazily crossing his arms over his chest, “he’s blowing her back out, it’s over.”
As much as you wanted to turn your head to respond, your train of thought flew out the window as you felt the bed dip slightly, before the pressure of Chris’s blunt tip nudged against your cunt, bumping against your clit tauntingly.
“Alright, princess,” he breathed, dragging the tip along your slit, “why don’t you give them a show for daddy, hm?”
This time, your reply came in the form of an elongated moan as he sunk into your heat, the stretch coming with ease after Changbin’s size, yet the length making your toes curl.
“Oh, god-”
There was no opportunity for a pause, not when you were miles beyond prepped and ready; the orgasm Minho previously gave you, paired with the second one Changbin gently guided you toward yet kept from tipping over, leaving you with a bubble that was ready to burst within minutes.
“F-Fuck, daddy,” you keened, pressing your hips into his own in feigned hopes of getting him impossibly deeper, “please, please fuck me.”
Chris ran his tongue over his bottom lip, eyes glued to the way your pussy wrapped around his length, as he nodded, “Hands, baby.”
A shiver of excitement shot down your spine and you complied almost immediately, using the pillow to keep your head propped up as you worked your arms behind your back, the warmth of his hand easily finding your wrists and pinning them.
With you set up to his liking, he slowly pulled out just about halfway before driving his hips forward with force, the added balance of his right foot planted on the bed adding to his power.
He was definitely going to blow your back out.
It didn’t take long for him to find the perfect rhythm, nor did it take long for the room to be filled with your high pitched moans and gasps, and the slap of your ass against his thighs - the ripples slowly, but surely, turning your limbs to jelly.
“Our perfect girl,” he gritted out, the grip on your hip and wrists tightening marginally, “letting us admire you for the beautiful gem you are - take turns with this gorgeous body of yours.”
It wasn’t news that they were constantly in awe of you, with and without your clothes on - you were the brightest star in their night sky, you were the puzzle piece they finally found to complete their lives separately and together - and they never failed to remind you of how loved you were.
“But, you know you’re so much more than that, don’t you, princess?” Chris tilted his head to catch a glimpse of your face, eyes fogged and unfocused, lips parted with endless moans tumbling through, “You’re so much more than just your body to us.”
“C-Chris!” You managed to choke out between a whimper, his loving sentiments paired with the unyielding strokes of his cock to your deepest, sweetest parts turning your brain to mush, though your body responded in the best way it could.
He hissed at the telltale clench of your walls, a shiver running down his spine as he nodded mindlessly, “Already? It’s alright, baby, you can come for me - don’t hold back, yeah? Give it to me - give it all to me.”
Your body reacted faster than your mind could at his command, your orgasm barrelling toward you at a speed that had your hands balling into fists; every muscle in your body tensing and clenching until the thread snapped with one more well angled thrust. Mouth falling open with a silent scream, the only sound you were able to hear was your own heartbeat as your vision went white.
The first thing to return to you was your hearing, the muffled thumps of your heart fading out into loud, heavy pants - though you knew for a fact that breathing wasn’t just you. The next sense to return was touch, the slightly damp sheets underneath you grounding you back to reality as your eyes fluttered open only to land on an unexpected face.
“Sungie?”
“Jagi, if I swap to ‘Team Ass’ can you do that for me, too?” Jisung’s face was ripe with blush, though his eyes were wide and wild with lust that had your abdomen clench almost painfully.
Furrowing your eyebrows, you frowned lightly, “Do what?”
“You squirted, muse,” Hyunjin murmured beside him, awe laced in his tone, “that was so fucking hot.”
Oh.
It wasn’t until you went to move your arms that you realized Chris was still keeping you pinned - and a second later you realized he was still inside of you.
“Channie?”
“I-I’m okay, I-” Relinquishing his hold on you, his hands instantly went to your hips, thumbs tracing nondescript shapes against your skin, “I just… I need a minute, ‘m sorry.”
“No, no, baby, it’s okay, take your time.” Working yourself onto your hands, your lower back eternally grateful for the relief, you took a quick scan of the empty room, “Where’d everyone else go? Did I genuinely pass out?”
“No - honestly, you were only out for like, a minute, but after you, uh, came, we started the aftercare checklist.” Hyunjin’s hand reached out to wipe away a hint of saliva at the corner of your lips, “Hannie and I are on talk-down duty, Felix is running you a bath, Jeongin’s getting you a washcloth, Seungmin is getting you water while Minho’s starting on dinner, and Changbin is getting the laundry Chan was too fucked out to get himself.”
“I’m not fucked out,” the eldest groaned as he lazily turned his head toward the artist, “it was just a really intense orgasm, alright?”
With enough energy worked up, he pulled his hips away from yours as his softening dick slipped from your pussy, a shared hiss of overstimulation escaping you both in the process.
“Holy shit… Intense is a fucking understatement, she’s dripping so much.”
You bristled at Jisung’s words, though you could feel the reality of the situation currently oozing its way down your clit and undoubtedly landing against the stained bed sheet.
“Fuck, it’s like a river… Am I allowed to be jealous right now?”
“Han, please.” Chris groaned, embarrassment evident in his tone, “We get it, I come a lot, but I really don’t know what you have to be jealous about.”
Ducking your head with a barely contained laugh, you shook your head before meeting Jisung’s stare, “Next time, you’ll be the one almost folded in half and stuffed like a Thanksgiving turkey, okay?”
“I got the water, but it’s gonna cost you-” Seungmin stopped in his tracks as he rounded the bed, his eyes locking onto the mess between your legs, “What- You turned her into an overstuffed twinkie!”
“Seungmin!”
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fangirl-dot-com · 8 days
Text
✉️Divorce of Convenience
*part of the reverse trope series*
Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Wife!Reader Genre: Fluff/Mischief/Miscommunication Summary: Oscar as your first everything: love, boyfriend, husband. You never had to go through any type of heartbreak ever. With Taylor Swift's new album, you yearn for a deeper connection with the songs. What's a better way than to ask your husband for a weekend divorce?
TAG LIST IS CLOSED
Oscar knew something was up the moment you started smirking behind your phone as you lounged on the couch. His hand was mindlessly rubbing one of your ankles that was currently propped up on his lap. There was a week in between Monaco and Canada, which gave him time to come straight home to you. 
Photographs littered the walls of your home. Some from the very early days of grade school, where you and Oscar first met. And then some of grades 9 through 12 and Oscar’s karting and Formula racing, which marked the first four years of your relationship. The engagement pictures and wedding pictures followed a year later. 
There were a couple of pictures from 2023, signifying Oscar’s first year in McLaren. There were few from this year, as Oscar got busier, but you managed to pick some out to print. However, the Aussie really didn’t notice them at first, too busy wrapping you in his arms when he got home from the double-header. 
Another giggle made him actually look at you, eyebrow raised. 
“What’s got you all smiley?” 
You huffed as you put your phone down in your lap. 
“Taylor Swift came out with a new album, and people on Tik Tok are hilarious.”  
He rolled his eyes. He knew that there was more to it. 
“And?” 
“I’m just thinking about how if we ever went through a breakup, I could relate to some of the songs on a deeper level.” 
You sat up to scooch closer to your husband, now touching shoulders as you showed him a video of a woman crying to one of the new songs. Oscar was having a hard time realizing why this was funny to you.
“What if we got a divorce?” 
Oh. 
Oscar whipped his head toward you, hair swishing. “You want to do what?” 
You huffed again, lightly rolling your eyes. “A divorce for like just a bit, so that I can really get to Taylor’s level.” 
Oscar’s head reeled back. “Why on earth would you want to do that?” 
He was getting a bit self-conscious. Was this your way of silently telling him that you weren’t satisfied being married to him? Was he away too much? Were you bored without him here? Did you want to come to more races with him?  
“Ossie, it’s not what you think,” you said as you waved your hands around. Your husband crossed his arms, not entirely impressed. 
“What I’m thinking is that you’re not happy with me anymore.” 
You wanted to melt into the couch as his sad expression. There wasn’t much difference between him and his new “brother” Leo in terms of puppy eyes. You gently put your hands on his cheeks and made him look at you. 
“Oscar you should know better. There isn’t anyone else I’d rather spend the rest of my life with.” 
He pouted slightly. “Then why do you want to get a ‘divorce’ if you’re still happy.” 
You looked down at your lap as you took your hands away from his face. Your fingers started to pick at the skin around your nails. Now that you thought about it, your idea was childish and dramatic. Why would you want to get a divorce when you were happily married to the love of your life. 
“Hey.” It was Oscar’s turn to turn your head to look at him. “Just tell me. I’m having a hard time understanding.” 
“You were my first everything, you know this. I’ve never gone through a bad breakup or heartbreak, and sometimes I wish that I could experience that.” 
He gave you a look. “I understand.” 
Your eyebrows furrowed. “You do?” 
A nod was your answer. “It’s a part of growing up that you didn’t get to go through.” 
Nervous giggles fell through your lips, which turned into actual laughing. You fell forward into Oscar’s lap, making him laugh with you. When all giggles and laughs had subsided, he gave you a quick peck on your lips. 
The McLaren driver started to calculate things in his head. “Saur, you want to get a divorce, to listen to some songs for a few hours, and then?” 
You bumped him lightly with your shoulder. “Not an actual divorce Ossie. Just, if lots of people believe that we’re getting a divorce then it’s technically true?” 
Even you didn’t sound 100 percent sure. 
Oscar turned his body to fully face you. Now it was his turn to smirk, knowing what you wanted to do. He was never above creating some mischief online. Heck, his tweets went viral for stirring up the media. 
“So, how are we going to do this?” 
What Osar wasn’t ready for, was for you to have a 10-step plan for this. He should have been ready for your antics; he had been with you for most of your life. You suddenly stopped talking mid-sentence, your eyes widening, raising some concern in Oscar. 
“What’s wrong?” 
“We can’t tell Lando.” 
With that the plan went into motion. Step one was to cry in the car, which seemed easy enough as you chose to watch some sad edits on TikTok. It was perfect. Your mascara ran enough for the cameras to pick up on it. 
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The second step was simple. You had a friend who just so happened to work at the Melbourne Law Firm. You had previously wanted to bring her lunch one day, and it worked perfectly for the plan. You knew that people were following you, which made it even better. On your way out, you took a small coffee from the lobby, and then sat in your car for a moment. 
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y/nl/n has posted
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liked by piastri81, y/nismother, landonorris, and 1,204,109 others
y/nl/n you drew stars around my scars, but down I'm bleeding
see all comments
y/nsworld guys. . . SOMEONE WAKE ME UP FROM THIS NIGHTMARE 😩
ossie&n/n THEY HIT THE PENTAGON
landonorris you want to REPLY TO MY MESSAGES??
charles_leclerc please also respond to your favorite father-in-law
maxverstappen1 answer them cause they're threatening to fly to Australia and they're going to take me with them
piastriduo she changed her username 🥺😭
y/nswife I can't be a child of divorce, it's too early
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Third, Oscar would make a public appearance the day after. Some paparazzi had spotted him, making him fly the bird at the cameras. The McLaren driver quickly turned around and headed back to his car, wanting to now get home. 
Except, Oscar wasn’t expecting to be jumped the moment he wanted to get out of the house for the weekend. You had decided to go out shopping, keeping your head low. He knew he should also have kept his head low. A hand reached out and grabbed him, pulling him into a random bookstore. He had half a mind to start yelling “stranger danger,” but these were no strangers.
“Lando, Max, Charles? What is this?” 
Lando’s finger pressed into his chest, making him wince a bit. The Briton had anger in his eyes, along with Charles and Max also glaring. 
Lando hissed, “This is an intervention. Why did you divorce Y/n? She was literally your life mate. You freakin’ muppet.” 
Charles decided to put his piece in. “Did something happen? You two were so happy in Australia and Miami.” 
“Or did she do something?” the Dutchman asked, making Oscar immediately shake his head. He looked down at the floor. 
“We just decided that it wasn’t working any more. I’ve been too busy with racing and she got a new job here.” 
Lando scoffed. “Utter bullshit, that’s what that is.” 
Charles looked like a kicked puppy. “Mate. Is there no way to reconnect?” 
Oscar crossed his arms, trying to seem more intimidating. “We fought and it’s over. She already gave me the papers and they’re signed. End of story.” 
“Babe, you didn’t tell me that you were shopping here too! I found this new book . . . oh.” 
Shit. 
You blinked, looking at the three men who were cornering your husband. This was not in the 10-step plan. You were about to say something, but Lando quickly walked over to you. You expected some yelling, but he pulled you to the side. It was intense eye contact for a moment. 
“Did Oscar cheat?” 
“What?” 
He gasped. “Did you cheat?” 
You huffed. “Lando, no one cheated.” 
The kid looked like a kicked puppy, even though he was older than you. He threw his hands up in the air, pretty exasperated. 
“Why did you two get a divorce?” 
The sheer volume of his voice made a few heads turn, making you wince a bit. You tugged his arm and pulled him back to the group of three. The Briton may have dragged his feet just a bit, only because he didn’t want to have this awkward conversation with you and his teammate. 
You tilted your head just a bit. “Can we have this conversation somewhere else?” 
They shrugged and followed you, even into the car since they had all walked. And instead of getting into the back seats of your SUV, Lando, Charles, and Max squished into the first row. Their eyes did widen when your hand clasped Oscar’s as you drove off. 
Lando leaned over to Max and whispered pretty loudly, “Why are they holding hands?” 
The Dutchman “whispered” back, “I don’t know. Maybe it’s some weird kink?” 
You hit the brakes as you came to a stop light, making Lando and Max jolt. Charles sat still in his seat, already bracing himself since he wasn’t yapping. Well, at least not yet. 
You took this moment to quickly turn around and stare at them, silently telling them to shut their mouths. Oscar bit back a smile as he heard Max and Lando suck in a breath. He sighed in relief as you pulled into the garage. Ever such a gentleman, he hopped out to run around and open your door. 
He pressed a kiss against your cheek. 
“This was your idea remember?” he muttered, guiding you into the house, the three other drivers silently following you. 
You took your time to put your new books away before you went to sit on the couch. Oscar handed you a glass of water, which you thankfully took. You wanted to laugh as you watched Max, Charles, and Lando squirm. 
“You have a very lovely house,” Charles mentioned, trying to break the silence. He was successful as you gave them a soft smile. 
“Thank you, Charles. Oscar bought it for us after he signed with McLaren.” 
Lando remembered the day that the Aussie had told him about the purchase. Oscar had been so excited to truly start your life with each other. The apartment that you two had before was getting small. But now, sitting in front of you when divorce was on the line, he truly wondered what all went wrong. 
He clapped his hands, ending the conversation that you were having with Charles about paint colors. 
Lando pointed at you and Oscar. “Enough. What is going on?” 
You stifled a laugh before trying to clear the air. “Lando, there was never a real divorce. The gossip pages just ran with a rumor.” 
Max butted in. “But the law firm, your Instagram post?” 
Oscar reached over and took your hand in his. “You three know that we’re high school sweethearts, and before that, childhood friends.” 
Lando looked confused. “And what does that have anything to do with this?” 
“Mate,” Oscar started, “it has everything to do with it. Because we’ve been together since we were younger, there wasn’t time for normal teenager things like breakups or heart break.” 
“So,” you added, “we,” Oscar gave you a look, “I thought it might be fun to pretend to get a divorce.” 
No one said a word.
Lando then fell to his knees and kissed your carpet. “Thank God. I don’t think I could handle a sad Oscar every single weekend.” 
You patted him on the shoulder. “I don’t think I’d ever want to live without him. And I couldn’t pass the opportunity to not travel around the world.” 
Your husband gasped a bit while he put his hand on his heart. “You wound me woman. I knew you were with me for my money.” 
You wiggled your eyebrows. “But of course, darling. What else would you be good for?” 
Max put his head in his hands. “They’re made for each other. This is gross.” 
You quickly stood from your couch. “Well, I think it’s time for dinner. Ossie?” 
The man in question blushed at the nickname, while the other three cooed at them. He turned to give them a stink eye, effectively shutting them up. 
As you started to get some pans out for dinner, you found yourself with a human backpack. Oscar pressed his face into your neck, sighing deeply. There weren’t many moments that the two of you got to be domestic like this. And it would have been romantic, except for Lando’s squealing as he looked around at the pictures on the wall. 
“Osc, is this you in grade school? Where did the cheeks go, mate?” 
“Lando, get away from the pictures.” 
“But Osc, you were such a cute kid. What happened?” 
“You happened.” 
“Osc!” 
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oscarpiastri she's mine for the rest of time ❤️
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ossie&n/n WAAAARRRR IISSSS OOOVVEERRRRR
y/nsworld I have never been more thankful for rumors
y/nl/n ossieeeee 🥺
y/nl/n I love youuuuuuu (you're never getting rid of meeee)
oscarpiastri I love you too (pls change your user back)
y/nl/n i have to wait 2 weeks (stupid instagram)
landonorris so glad to see you in the paddock 🙌
y/nl/n good to see you too loser
piastriupdates my parents ☺️
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