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satomatto · 7 months

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. //ALL BOYS | hybrid au.

ch: cat hybrids!gojo satoru, okkotsu yuuta, ryomen sukuna, choso; dog hybrids!geto suguru, itadori yuji, fushiguro megumi, fushiguro toji; snake hybrid!naoya zenin; dolphin hybrid!inumaki toge; parrot hybrid!mahito; fox hybrids!nanami kento, noritoshi kamo.

cw: concept of hybrids; heat/rut.

tw: breeding kink; hickeys/bites; overstimulation/overexcitement; somnophilia; maybe they all have some yandere-isms; delaying orgasm; multiple orgasms; naoya is as scummy as ever; voyeurism; maybe!non-con; rough sex; who even reads tags; cunnilingus; slit play; submissive!inumaki, yuji; mirror sex; is big dick a warning? big dicks; creampie; pour yourself a warm cuppa, don't be like author; dirty talk; tender sex; size difference.

cw: 6.6k

GETŌ SUGURU

Geto is a nice guy, he won't push you over the top excessively, well able to handle the rut on his own. But it's so boring! In fact, you might not even notice how more and more translucent, wet smudges appear on your mattress every night. He'll even go so far as to use your thighs to recreate the illusion that he's fucking you when the sheets and his hand are no longer enough for self-satisfaction.

Oh, he clearly understands where the boundaries are, firm and unconditional. It's unlikely you'll realize there's something wrong with him before it's too late to do anything about it - he's already struggling to contain himself throughout the day, patiently waiting for the moment when he can touch you with impunity, but if his overall arousal rises even the slightest bit, he'll just short-circuit.

Not in the sense of nonstop, wild fucking - nope, really; his affection and the sweet desire that had overwhelmed him would come out in one solid, warm lump. He'll literally cling to you - he'll wallow in bed with you, wrapped in the sheets, cradling you and sucking on your shoulders and neck, needing attention and stubbornly ignoring your pleas for it to stop, he might even growl at you if you try to break free of his grip. Even though you won't succeed without it - Suguru will still get rougher with you if you offer any resistance. But even so, you probably won't be able to figure out what's exactly going on with him - it's more like a typical bout of tenderness, which he gets quite often because he loves you.

From now on, anything he's done in secret before will no longer be. And you're gonna have to accept that - you should know by now what a piece of shit he really is. This man will do the same thing to you, only now and when you're awake. Oh, don't worry, he won't touch you unless you beg for it. And you will. He likes the way you taste. You can be sure he won't disappoint you; his nimble, harsh tongue sure is capable of a lot - how long do you think he will let you go? I hope you know that his stamina increases a lot during the rut.

You'll probably wake up one day to the unearthly sensation of his tongue in your hole as Suguru moans into your pussy, obviously touching himself down there, making you cum for the umpteenth time in a row. Or from the way he, decides to take advantage of your hips while you sleep peacefully in the, now shared, bed. Sly dark eyes look completely innocent - like he's picking out a bun for his breakfast - oh, baby, he's not doing anything wrong, so you don't have to forgive him!

"Nah, nah, nah, calm down, honey. It's no big deal." Someday, that sly squint will drive you crazy.

GOJŌ SATORU

An already very insolent creature turns into an absolute asshole whose meanness is elevated to an absolute. Oh, do you really want to trade him in for your useless, boring job? Sweetie, you're so naive to believe he'll let you out of bed for a couple hours. You'd better take the weekends off, for the duration of his rut, because he won't be thinking about secondary things like your general busyness. When mating season starts - all you have to worry is him. Your only concern, to whom you'll have to give all your free (and not) time, one way or another.

This guy remains a teaser even when he himself is panting with desire. He has the stamina, frankly, to taunt you despite his aching cock, even in moments of complete shutdown of any self-consciousness - it's like his second nature. One of his favorite tricks is to pump you as much as he can into you, making sure your eyes roll back as hard as they can and your throat makes those sweet sounds of pleasure just for him, turning your poor, already fucked-up brain into a fucking mess.

Gojo always demands a lot of your attention, but then again, almost all of the unpleasant aspects of his personality are more pronounced when mating season begins. His favorite thing to do during this time is to make you almost cry with pleasure while you squeeze his cock so sweetly. His stamina on such days is just off the charts, if on normal days you passed out from overexcitement and fatigue, what do you think will happen then when he wants to fuck you for hours on end? Nothing good, that's for sure. It'll be a half dream and half vision for you - you might pass out during the process and then suddenly start screaming, probably from the pain in your tortured pussy when you wake up - if he's already on instinct, he'll cum in you over and over again, squeezing your thighs until he passes out, or until the obsession wears off.

Satoru even can help you take a shower, though he has a negative attitude toward it, rather than a tolerant one. In fact, you really need his help, because even standing up afterwards can be a bit difficult. I strongly recommend not to refuse it - during his animal outbursts, you better not argue with him (yes, he cares about you purely on instinct). A man will prefer you to complain less and listen to him more - even if all he can utter is inarticulate mooing and scraps of simple words, which is highly expected at the peak of his rut. Along with that, he's soothed by the sound of your voice-even if sometimes his brains are so cluttered that he has no idea what you're saying, able to recognize only intonation and subtly sensing any change in your speech.

"Mm, sweetie, I don't think…" Even after half an hour this sentence was still not finished. Well, he really doesn't think.

NAOYA ZEN'IN

This naga really annoys you. In fact, Naoya thinks you owe him a debt. To be grateful or not is up to you, but his opinion is the only constant: you were chosen by him, so you belong to him now, and you should be grateful that he treats you that way. He will make you say those words over and over again, delaying orgasms, or covering your body with love bites (careful, he's poisonous, but you might say you're lucky - there's an aphrodisiac flowing in his fangs right now, thank him for that <3). Maybe that's not enough? Don't worry, he'll go to the lengths of hurting you for real too, mere spanking and pinching will seem like child's play compared to what he'll do if you don't satisfy him and his sick fantasies.

Fortunately or miserably, this bastard is perfectly in control of himself during the breeding season. Even if he's pounding and shaking at times, if you see him curled up in some dark and warm corner, know that there's no cause for concern - it doesn't hurt him much, just his body doesn't know where to put all that energy. However, Naoya himself perfectly knows where he can use it. If you hear a soft crackling sound from somewhere behind the door, don't be in a hurry to take off your clothes - you can change later, but if the crackling sound is accompanied by a hiss, you'd better turn into a docile and submissive slut and spread out on the bed, throwing your new outfit as far away as possible.

As said above, the naga is perfectly self-controlled, so don't be surprised if you feel the tip of his tail between your legs, playfully stroking your thigh and pressing against your heat through your clothes. Yes, Naoya does it on purpose - just to watch your reaction. It gives him a kind of… Voyeuristic satisfaction - sort of the same nature as those rare occasions of watching you from behind closed doors while he tries to touch himself as quietly as possible, drilling you with the stare of narrow, golden eyes while you unsuspectingly pull off your clothes and wiggle your hips ever so brazenly. He could go further - he knows you won't stop him, but he won't, torturing himself and even you, who've been guessing a little about his fascination lately, with the agonizing wait, only to be left with nothing.

Of the good (and partly even sad): just because he wants you to carry his children doesn't mean nature agrees with him. His body is incapable of forming "proper" embryos inside the eggs - they're all somehow, in their own way, but defective; most likely this has come about as a result of long and not very skilled breeding, as well as frequent incest, but either way, the fact remains. So, after these sessions, they usually just turn into nothing. Well, really, don't say anything about it. For better or for worse, both are insulting and offensive to him in their own way (you're not going to be well, just trust me).

"What idiotic problem do you have this time? Well, let's solve it together… " A dangerous clicking sounded behind you. Don't turn around.

INUMAKI TOGE

So obedient and endlessly tender boy. While his slit is oozing with lubricant - he tries to continue helping you with the cooking, gradually losing his head more and more. Light, quiet trills come out of his mouth, getting more like a squeak from literally your any movement. You can play with him a little - so vulnerable in this state. For example, you could accidentally spill water on him or knock over a bowl of cream, and then start rubbing the wet, sticky apron, pressing and rubbing the spot as if by accident.

Inumaki wouldn't be able to tolerate this for long. Literally in a matter of hours, he would be completely and utterly transformed into a lustful, needy mess. If he has to beg for your attention, you should know, he will Sharp little teeth will nibble at your skin, leaving light marks on it, and a heavy, husky sniffle will tickle your ear for just as long as it takes. Anticipating your question: no, he won't be able to handle it on his own - his brains were already mush the moment he looked at you.

You can put your fingers in his slit and he'll squirm and moan just from the feel of your fingers in his crotch, but if you push them in a little deeper and massage what's inside… He'll go crazy - you just have to run your fingers over what you might call the underside of his cock; the guy will only whimper and beg you to continue, lifting his hips and moving them to meet your hand. If you don't want him to finish so soon, take your fingers out of his hole and wiggle your fingers around a bit, applying pressure and running them downward. Once his dick slips out, unable to stay there because of the copious amounts of natural lubrication - no matter how much Inumaki wants you to, you can do whatever you want with the guy - he won't resist He just can't.

He always makes that lustful yet totally innocent, angelic face when you touch him. He's happy to let you ride him, during a hot period, he's just not in control of himself (as he's basically always been - a guy can hardly be aware of his actions when he's aroused. You can make him perform the most idiotic action time after time - he won't suspect a thing. Here's the truth, though, that doesn't mean that after Toge cools off a bit, he won't blush and run off somewhere far away from you; don't be unkind). But, if you're starting to think he's a snot, he's not so much submissive as horny, and in that state of mind, easier to hand over the reins of control to someone who's not completely out of his head and capable of doing the right thing.

Just drag him into the bathtub - you'll be instantly pinned to the wall, because he's no longer in control of his transformation, at a time when even his thoughts are flowing sluggishly, with great difficulty - barely. Caress his thighs, the place where the human part of him touches his tail. His belly will turn pink and his slit will begin to ooze lubrication. His chirping will softly caress your ears, and his naughty fingers will find your warm spot pretty quickly. Seeing you enter a state like his makes Inumaki bite his lip. Careful with that, though - the teeth, which aren't large, are all razor sharp.

"Hn-n," the guy moans, followed immediately by a short, loud and awkward trill, cutting himself short. But why, such a sweet sound isn't something to be embarrassed about.

ITADORI YUJI

This guy is actually obsessed with your butt. The enthusiasm with which he moves his hips into you and digs his hands into your plump ass every time, kneading it like dough - real dedication, any way you look at it. He doesn't usually have this kind of eagerness, but right now, it looks almost desperate - the occasional thrusts and the subtle whimpers continuously emanating from his throat are so turned on. Despite the fog in his head, he's still trying to hold himself back for you - it's so sweet, don't you think?

Itadori will try so hard for both of you - so hard that you'll have to force him to let you go so you don't both die of dehydration and you stop getting a hellish cramp in your hips with every thrust he makes. He'll use your holes around the clock if you let him - but he's a good boy, so he'll stop if you ask him to. In other, don't expect any indulgences, he has almost low control over himself, being at the mercy of his instincts and hellish, unbridled arousal all day long - poor Yuji himself is waiting for it all to end, it exhausts him almost to the point of insanity.

He loves making you cum at the same time as him; at the same time, he's always hungry for your praise - he literally melts from it, go ahead. You can gently touch your belly as you sit on his knot, push a little on the protruding outline of his cock - this boy already whimpers every time you squeeze him, hell yeah he'll go crazy Yuji just can't help himself and will start licking your face like a real puppy, and please - please (!), touch it, touch it lower…

It might be safer for you to wait it out, but I'm afraid that if you do, Yuji won't be able to forgive himself or you. He'll be able to let you go, he won't hold you back, but his trust in you will be shattered. Okay, if it happens in the beginning, before the guy even touches you, but if you disappear a couple days later, or even near the end, Itadori will be very worried about it. Yeah, he'll be freaking out - what if he did something wrong? Did he hurt you? Or maybe you just stopped liking him? No, no. For a creature who only seeks your approval, this would equate to a simple ditching - you'd break his heart.

"P-mg-please…!" Itadori is rendered speechless by how skillfully you saddle his hips. Don't slow down.

MAHITO

Mahito is crazy on his own - the heat has almost no effect on him unless he wants it himself. If you think he doesn't normally touch you - you are sorely mistaken. He may spend nights exploring your body out of pure interest, Mahito won't hold back his curiosity even if you catch him doing it - in fact, it will only encourage him to continue, even with more fervor, roughly touching everything he can reach with his fingers.

The guy will spread your legs, playing with your hole and rubbing your wretched clit until you start gasping from overexcitement and inability to cum. Oh, this guy is cunning - he'll use every trick in his arsenal to bring you to the point of exhaustion. You may be wondering why you can't cum. It's simple really, Mahito just won't let you do it until he's played with you. You're wondering "how"? Well, speaking of his tricks, some manipulation of your soul results in this - you'll start feeling his touch everywhere, by the end of your adulteries, there won't be a place on your body that this pervert hasn't touched; indeed, inside you too.

He'll let you play with the feathers on his wings. In truth, he looks more like a particularly fluffy bat than a bird. They're actually very soft, but you don't want to touch them for too long - just look at his eyes at that moment and you'll understand. If suddenly he grabs you and presses you against him, burying his nose in your neck, don't twitch, and certainly don't try to break free. Relax and sit like that for a few minutes - settle on his hips, make yourself as comfortable as you like, fidget as much as you like - the guy's like Ken in there, so you don't have to worry about that, but you don't want to provoke his irritation.

On average, it's still not that bad. If only Mahito didn't clean out your fridge daily, things would still be exactly as they should be. But, of course, the weirdness doesn't end there - one day he might just come along and screw your ass - it's up to you to decide what to do about it. Hopefully you know how a prostate massage is done, it will probably be enough for him - at the very least just play with his hole, oh it will throb so violently every time you hit some point deep inside the guy. After all, this creature better not be denied too harshly.

"Ha-ha-ha!" The guy laughs loudly as you burrow your fingers into his feathers. Just, don't yank those overly hard.

NANAMI KENTO

Nanami is a sufficiently mature man to sit down with you before all of this and discuss some of the details of the coming period. Along with that, you have to decide what to do about it - he'll ask you a few times if you're ready for it before settling down and leaving you to mull over what's going on. The fox has enough control over his state of mind that, if anything, he'll be able to stop in time and not hurt you much - at most, it'll be bruises on the wrists he likes to hold above your head so much. Usually, he tries to finish as quickly as he can, but sometimes he'll catch on.

You might regret allowing yourself the idea that sex with him is boring when the man continues to lazily thrust into you after two hours, not wanting to stop and shoving his cock into your tortured holes no matter what. But judging by the fact that even in this state, Kento continues to care about more than just his own pleasure - you're bound to cum next. Probably more than once. A man likes it when you beg him and call him daddy. He has no idea why, but it makes him fuck you rougher, counting to sparks from your eyes and buckling legs, possibly affecting your ability to sit up properly or even stand without bending over from the pain in your stomach and ass… It's sure to be worse than your period.

Kento is a responsible man, he will definitely take care of his partner afterwards, because he knows very well what state you're in right now. He'll help you get to the bathroom if you don't mind - he'll even wash you with a nice bit of warm water, and in the morning you'll have breakfast waiting right in bed. After all, like a true gentleman, he should take care of you, no matter how tired he is; after all, you also took care of him. The only exception is when you make him jealous. In those cases, he is unable to even clean himself up, let alone do anything else. And, you're already wondering how to do it.

After this ambiguous period, Nanami will lose a lot of weight because his body can no longer consume food in the same quantities as it did during the rut. At times, he will simply forget to eat, due to his poor condition - frequent dizziness and general weakness, he will be immensely pleased if you show care towards him. It is better to ventilate the apartment more often - low temperatures man tolerates better than heat - and already tired of this condition, the man will want only normal rest. In addition, it is worth specifying the fact that he has a very sensitive sense of smell. Sharp odors irritate him, be careful with this.

"Are you alright?" A slightly hitched, loud breath comes out of the man's chest with a slight whoosh.

NORITOSHI KAMO

Noritoshi is a pretty darling dude, he's embarrassed enough to talk to you about it, but he'll definitely give you a couple words of warning so it's not a total surprise. Sweetness, he just doesn't know what to make of it. It's just as unfamiliar to him as it is to you - feeling his own body in this way is obviously new to the boy. So, he will definitely ask for your help in solving this problem.

During the rut, the guy stays calm and even seems a bit sleepy, and that's actually true - if he could, he'd be asleep all day long, but alas, it will not be possible to just lay this thing off - no matter how much he wants to. If the fox seems a little grumpy to you at first, that's normal. Aggression in the first couple of days is natural for his species, and even though he tries his best to keep it to a minimum, his fluffy tail will still rise up every time he sees you. Massage his head, especially near his ears, and play with his hair a bit - you can comb it with a coarse-toothed comb to relax him.

The guy is as calm as a boa constrictor during this process - he has only one goal, to release tension; mostly his own, but you can work with that - the guy just doesn't know what to do with you, guide him a little, help him understand exactly what you want from him and he will pick it up immediately - he learns quickly. After all, Camo is well aware that there's not much you can do alone - he's at your pleasure, especially when he's blown away. The pace stays the same, darling, you probably won't even notice it, because you'll be blacking out just a couple minutes after the guy enters this state - most likely neither you nor he will understand why it happened; he - because he doesn't remember anything that happened to him during this state, you - for obvious reasons, just can't know it. Only the marks on your body and neck will be any hint of what happened.

Noritoshi is trying to take care of you - he's not a stupid person and realizes that you need follow-up care, even if you seem quite alert. He will gently but insistently guide you to the bathroom and put you to bed, perhaps he can also stretch your stiff legs if he notices that you can't find a comfortable position. You can ask him for help at any time - his fluffy ears will instantly turn in your direction, and he'll listen to your every word.

"Lay still, you need to rest." To the question: "do you?" the guy only lets out a slight, barely elusive chuckle and sighs deeply.

OKKOTSU YUTA

It's not so clear-cut with him. You can't be fully prepared for your furbaby's heat, no matter what you do before it. No one knows what will suddenly click in his poor head and what he will do to fulfill his desires. You don't have to worry, though - he treats you like a princess, carries you around on his arm and makes you stay close to him; even if you don't like it very much, I highly recommend listening to him. Well, if it makes you feel any better - Yuta will always be more dangerous to others than to you.

Oh, his flushed face is so inviting. Press your lips against his - bite them, kiss them like it's your last time, and he'll return the favor. Yuta usually moves at a relatively slow pace, letting you relax and get used to him - to fully experience the process. The tingles rushing across your skin like electric shocks, something brackish on your lips, the cool air from the room contrasting so sharply with the heavy, hot breath that mingles with your languid moans caressing your ears.

Okkotsu likes it when you're on top. No, you still don't have complete control - Yuta is like a caring, overprotective parent, sort of letting his baby have all the fun he wants, but ready to interrupt and take over at a moment's notice. In fact, he really does treat you like a baby. Despite the external insecurity, the guy is really aware of what he is doing and what consequences can come out of all this - he has plenty of responsibility, but sometimes it's hard to take him seriously. Ah, yes, in spite of that, you still have to deal with a little bit of guardianship from his side, although it should be the other way around, but that's another story.

This cutie is hungry for affection - you can touch him everywhere, from his soft (slightly greasy) ears to the tip of his tail. His reaction will probably be the most adequate - he likes to be touched, but he is calm about it, without much passion, like a normal cat, even when he is constantly in a state of slight excitement. Unless your actions become a little more intense. A little more pressure, a slight pull, a soft and rhythmic massage, lower… This will already be perceived as a signal for action. But don't worry, you can touch him at any time without any problems - he even encourages it. In his own way, with a short lick on the cheek or a playful nibble on the neck, but he's really pleased that you're taking such initiative.

"Hey-hey-hey-hey, sparkle, that's not the point-you shouldn't be walking around like that after being so overwhelmed!" The guy turns around to see you, awakened by the delicious aroma coming from the kitchen and now frozen in the doorway, wagging your tail unhappily as the oil in the pan sizzles and shoots upwards. Oops, looks like you accidentally ruined the surprise.

RYŌMEN SUKUNA

Do you think he's possessive? Well, I'll stop you in your tracks - more like yandere on steroids. You'll have to take a day off work - better a vacation right away, because Sukuna will not tolerate other people's scent on you at any stage of his rut - none at all, except his own. Be sure that you have enough food at home, because heaven forbid you should bring even that slight residue of perfume from the elevator on you… It won't be good for you or the unfortunate person whose cologne was left hanging in the air before it settled on your clothes.

Sukuna treats you like a sex slave, a fuck toy, an inferior being, even with his four arms around your frail body and his cocks deep inside your insides and his dry lips whispering dirty words in your ear. His attitude won't change, darling, but you'd better always stay within the confines of the same room with him and obediently spread your legs whenever he demands it. In fact, you can initiate intercourse yourself - he won't stop you from pleasuring him, but know that even after that, he'll be sure to fuck you properly.

His favorite spot is the windowsill; pressing you against the glass, knowing full well that someone might notice you… There's something about it. For some reason, a man especially likes to bend you roughly over right in front of him, making you rest your hands on the frame and shiver with each of his thrusts, while all his hands move slowly all over your body - stroking every curve, your swollen tummy, the waist so perfectly suitable for him to place one pair of his hands on it, your sweet titties bouncing with the rest of your body, while down below, your womb making the loudest, most shameful sounds just for him - Ryomen loves you whole and entire, even if he will never admit it to you or to himself. Oh, if you can ever forget him (which is impossible in itself), the feeling of his cock in your pussy will not be erased from your memory. He is the master in your relationship, rather than you. And he likes to pamper his pet.

Sukuna has a very sensitive tail. If you ever want to touch it, ask permission, and then treat it as if it might fall apart at the slightest gust of wind. Under no circumstances, God forbid, do not sit on it. Never, ever. Ryomen will not look at your relationship or your affection and empty, stale feelings as his heart. He might not kill you, but he'll maim you for sure. In fact, he'll like you all he wants, but you're not likely to bounce back quickly - and the scars on your body will be an eternal reminder of your small but painful misstep and how dangerous he can be. During sexual intercourse, you can lightly massage the very base of his back - where the fur meets the human part of his back - your actions will definitely be met by his approving purr, which may well pass for a growl, only slightly muffled (only for you!). The only thing - make sure that your hands are dry, and the fur does not stick to them (and it is better to touch only human skin around. That area is also sensitive, but he'll probably like it better).

"So pretty, little slut… Come on, come on, get your hand away from your face - I want to see your adorable face!" Mockingly mutters Ryomen, continuing to move, and making you bite your lip as both of his cocks pierce your holes - too much? You beg him to stop.

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

Even if Megumi is collected and calm at first, eventually even he'll start to waver. His seemingly stable state will become a trap - he'll be ready to tear you apart if you get too close, because he doesn't know what to do with his new state yet. It's hard for him; try to talk to him from a distance, offer your help - we are responsible for those we tame. If you can make a deal with him, he'll reluctantly get up and follow you into the bedroom, but if Fushiguro starts turning away from you and snorting, looking away and down, stop trying, it's not going to get you anywhere. Of course, I won't stop you from trying, but who knows what he'll do if you keep seducing him.

The guy will bite you. Back of the neck, almost behind the ear - you know. It's not his bad whim (although it's hard to be responsible for that anymore), it's more of an instinct. Is it so hard to wait for him to tag his beautiful mate? He eventually gets used to all this and starts to take a lot more initiative, sometimes grunting tiredly into your neck and wagging his tail, he still doesn't like his condition, but over time the guy becomes more tolerant of it all - taking it for granted, which isn't great, but anyhow better than a complete refusal to deal with it.

Megumi is a smart boy, he knows exactly what happens if you overdo it, so he always picks a pace that is comfortable for both of you. For some reason, Fushiguro likes sex facing a reflection. He often moves that big full-length mirror in the corner of the room to your bed and spreads your legs in front of it, playing with your wet hole for long periods of time, making you squirm in his arms and beg for his cock, occasionally praising you and mumbling what a good girl you are - so obedient in his arms. It really turns him on, his flushed cheeks and eyes twitching with pure delight - what you'll see in that very mirror, if you can do it, while his fingers are so deep inside you, caressing places you didn't even know existed - you just have to wonder, "How?" he manages to do that with just his hands?

He loves it when you cook his food - your cooking basically. You can spend half a day in the kitchen, be sure your labors will not go unnoticed, he will eat everything and thank you. If suddenly, you're wondering about the reward - don't worry, he's very generous, especially when he's fed and satisfied. Megumi is damn fascinated by the way you try to please him - no matter how he's feeling at the moment, he'll always be mesmerized by the movements of your hands as if under hypnosis. Stroke his head, and once you're free, massage his ears, and he'll be completely at your mercy, his eyes at that moment just something filled with boundless devotion and delight.

"Ha-ah, honey, you're just adorable," Megumi kisses you loudly on the top of your head, caressing your thighs with joy in his gaze and pulling you to him. Ah, yes, the sudden bursts of joy and mood swings were worth getting used to.

FUSHIGURO TOJI

Absolute Asshole 2.0. He knows how much you enjoy riding his cock and takes full advantage of it. Toji teases you on purpose - accidentally miss when he seemed ready to be inside you? Slow down at the most inopportune moment? Oh, along with that, he also enjoys watching you melt, literally fall apart on his cock like a trained slut.

Fushiguro prefers to take turns using your holes, making sure both are filled. It's exhausting - but this man is relentless. With him, you're sure to have a hard time. After two days, there won't be a surface in your house that he hasn't fucked you on. Not to mention he'll snap on the first day - ask him to tie himself up and don't expect fair play. And if he does make the knots tight enough, you'll have to voluntarily do to him what he does to you on your own - not without that, alas.

You'll have to force him into the shower - he'll be completely neglected the moment he decides he doesn't need it. In fact, he does - and even if he doesn't normally smell, during the rut the whole house smells of that disgusting musky odor. Relax, though: you'll eventually stop paying attention to him. Fun fact: in this state, Toji just hates the smell of cherries. If you decide to take a bath, use anything that doesn't have a cherry scent.

At times, Fushiguro will just come up to you and grab you like a teddy bear - twirling you around in his arms until you wrap your arms around him with tears in your eyes. There's something about. The way his big hands hold you up in the air and onto his cock with such ease. Hold on tight, it's really wild. After that, Toji really works up an appetite. A vicious appetite. Even if a man doesn't normally deny himself a refill, now he's just going to clean out your fridge, your cupboards, all the food in the house. You're gonna have to use a delivery guy. Use his credit card for that and don't be afraid.

"Baby, I think that smell is disgusting."

CHOSO

Choso will continue to take care of you even when you're in heat. The only problem is that this time his guardianship will increase many times over. Also, the guy is freezing all the time, and with that comes a panicky fear of water, especially cold water. That's why you'll have to sit with him in a thousand blankets and not the best odor coming from this pile, in which, he also rolled before it. He's a cat with a dog's demeanor.

He doesn't really need sexual stimulation, it's just a supplement. His mind is also consumed by instincts, but they are more about protecting his partner and something like nesting attracts him much more than a rude fuck. Of course, that doesn't mean he doesn't need sexual stimulation at all. You'll also have to spread your legs in front of him on a regular basis, but he'll be much softer, still capable of not completely losing control of yourself or the situation - you can totally relax, he'll do it all. If you're not ready for something more, he'll also accept that you just jerk him off - your hands are much nicer than his, covered with rough skin and calluses. Thighs are also an option - he can handle that part of his rut on his own (relatively), but it's up to you to figure out what to do with the rest.

For some reason, Choso really likes to bite you. Every bit of your body that he can reach, your neck will be covered in multiple painful bites and red marks. I'm afraid it's far from the most pleasant thing that's ever happened to you, but really, you're still lucky that it only takes him out in moments of obsession. Otherwise, you wouldn't have been able to tolerate it so successfully. If your neck is inaccessible - wrapped in bandages, or you've treated it with bitter medication - he might start doing the same thing to your wrists, or hips.

Guy loves when you talk to him - read him a bedtime story, he'll definitely enjoy it. Sometimes, Choso wakes up completely disoriented, as if he's forgotten where he is and what's going on. At such times, all he has to do is hug you and cuddle as tightly as he can, drawing in air and letting your scent fill his lungs completely. Because of this, Choso is often sticky with you, but he flat out refuses to go outside. At least a moment of peace (but don't stay out there longer than usual - otherwise he'll get anxious and might even follow you. This is especially unacceptable because Choso's spatial awareness is abysmal).

"Please don't move. Let's just lie like this… Just a little longer." The dude clearly doesn't notice the sweat dripping off you. He doesn't notice the sweat dripping off you, either, but he not only ignores it, he purrs low and low, burrowing deeper into the blanket.

mm-m, let's talk about… (ask box is open)

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loveshotzz · 2 months

Text

I guess it’s never really over

mechanic!steve harrington x fem!reader exes to lovers

chapter three -

This has got to be the longest crush ever

Robin’s bad date, and a late night that changes everything.

warnings: 18+ A little bit of queer and mid twenties crisis angst for Robin, with comfort obvi. Tension, but are we surprised at this point?, and a secret third thing, wonder what it could be? 😚

wc: 6.3k

authors note: Hi babies! I am taking just a week off from my posting schedule for this week long work trip I’m taking on Monday. There’s lots of conferences and I won’t have much down time. We will resume our normal posting schedule for chapter four starting 3/20 🌻🧡

series masterlist | series playlist

June -

Would you believe me if I said I’m in love?

Baby, I want you to want me.

You can’t believe you landed yourself in detention.

All your late night study sessions for the SAT’s that led to oversleeping and missed alarms finally catching up to you just like Robin warned you it would. Miss O’Donnell is the one who makes your best friend's predictions come true, handing you that notorious pink slip for walking into her class ten minutes late for the third time this week.

When you arrive at exactly 3:15, the classroom is mostly empty. Your eyes scan the bored faces of the few students joining you, hoping to at least see Eddie’s familiar head of curls. But of course, today of all days, he’s managed to be on his best behavior or just didn’t get caught.

Sighing defeated, you give Mr. Clark a tight lipped smile, ignoring the shocked look on his face seeing you in here. Picking an empty desk in the middle away from anyone, you decide to busy yourself with the Algebra homework you’ve been avoiding for the better half of a week. It’s when you lean over to unzip your backpack that you catch the sounds of sneakers squeaking against the ceramic floors.

”Ahh, Mr. Harrington. Even fashionably late to detention, I see. Your hair looks good enough to sit in silence for an hour and a half to me.” Mr. Clark announces the king of Hawkins's grand entrance with the kind of sarcasm that makes you smirk as you start arranging your things on your desk.

“That’s good to know 'cause I was doing it for you Mr. C.”

Steve Harrington always thinks he’s so charming

Snorting as you click your pen, you dare to look up only to catch ‘the hair’ looking right back at you with that golden smile that you’ve seen take even the strongest soldiers out.

Oh no.

Eyes going big, you quickly bring your attention back down to your homework, silently hoping he doesn’t take the seat next to you and land you in here next week too.

“So thoughtful of you. Now why don’t you take a seat and do some studying for that test on Monday. And maybe this semester you won’t have to worry about relying on extra credit to keep playing basketball.” Mr. Clark dismisses him, earning a low whistle from the boy who holds his hands up in surrender, Nike covered feet coming down your row.

No, no, no, NO.

You still don’t look up, rereading the same question over and over again because no matter how many times you try, you’re too distracted by the cedar and clove that invades your senses kicking them into overdrive. The whites of his sneakers catch in your peripherals when he does the unimaginable and sits next to you.

Staring at the equation with the kind of concentration that’ll be sure to give you a migraine later, it takes him a good thirty seconds before he temporarily gives up trying to get your attention to grab something that gives the illusion of studying out of his backpack.

Trying to play it cool, your stomach twists in nervous knots worse than the ones you get when Robin forces you on the janky rides at the summer fair every year. Sure, you’ve been hit on by a guy here and there, but no one can prepare you for what it’s like to catch Steve Harrington’s attention—especially for someone in your Hawkins hierarchy who would never be on the receiving end of it.

He flips through the pages of his textbook loudly, earning his first warning glare from Mr. Clark, and you decide to write your name on the top of the page so at least it looks like you’re doing something. After a couple bounces of your knee, you can feel the heat of his gaze back on you.

”Psst, hey.”

The last letter of your name comes out illegible, and you jump at the hushed sound of his voice. Taking a deep breath, you work up the courage to meet his flirtatious smirk and golden brown eyes. The sun leaking through the windows gives you a glimpse of the green that hides inside them from this close. You hate to admit that he’s just as pretty as everyone says he is.

”Hi,” you smile a little shy, offering a small wave of your pen and it lights up his whole face, making your body buzz.

”You have a highlighter I can use or something?” He keeps up his ruse, the whites of his teeth showing in a grin.

You arch an eyebrow at him, something sarcastic reminiscent of Mr. Clark flashing behind your eyes.

“What? You don’t think I’m actually going to study?” He acts shocked, slapping his giant hand across his chest and it earns the kind of giggle from you that pushes him full steam ahead.

”It’s blue, is that okay?” Giving into the bait, you try and hide the way your face warms, ducking down to dig in the bottom of your backpack.

”Are you kidding? I love blue. Favorite color actually.” Laying it on thick, you can see the way he scoots to the edge of his seat, the spice of his cologne making you bite at your bottom lip as your fingers wrap around what you’re looking for.

Sitting up in your seat, you aren’t expecting him to be so close and it threatens to steal the air right out of your lungs.

”H-here,” you manage, holding the blue writing utensil in the small space that's left between you.

Steve's eyes roam your face freely, pink tongue coming out to wet his full bottom lip before they settle back on your gaze, lids a little heavy, voice low and somehow sticky sweet.

”Thanks, honey.” He leans forward more, purposely brushing his fingers with yours when he takes it out of your grasp, “but now, I’m afraid the only way you’re gonna get it back is to let me drive you home after this.”

“I��ve got plenty, you can keep that one,” you try to stay strong, but when that second giggle slips out, you seal your fate.

”I can’t do that, this is your favorite one.” He tisks like it’s the craziest thing he’s ever heard, with a crooked grin that makes you bite the inside of your cheek.

”Is it?”

”Absolutely.”

“Are you two done? Or should we schedule a second date for next week?” Mr. Clark interrupts.

”That would actually be date number three. We’re going on two after this is over.” Steve smirks, throwing you a wink ignoring the harsh way you whisper of his name.

Yeah… you were fucked.

“I’ve got a date tonight!”

Robin sings excitedly, bursting through the front door in a wild ball of energy, successfully waking you up from your nap on the couch. Blinking slowly, as you start to recognize your surroundings, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you force yourself to sit up, wincing at your stiff neck and the fact that you dreamed about Steve Harrington again.

“A date with who?” You grumble, still a little grouchy, yawning with a stretch that pops in your back.

”This girl that I met at the record store this morning, we talked about Tracy Chapman and Tori Amos for what felt like hours. She’s just, wow, she’s so cool. Almost too cool for me, you know? She’s a senior in college-“

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up.” Cutting her off before she can ramble any longer, you wave your hands for her to stop: “First of all, no one is too cool for you, okay? If anything, it’s always going to be the other way around.”

“Yeah, okay, Steve.”

It takes a minute for her words to sink in about the man you haven’t seen in almost a week and a half, but when they do, the glare that settles on your face makes her laugh.

“Ha ha, very funny.” You deadpan with a tight-lipped smirk, before clearing your throat, “Well where are you guys going? Do you want me to go undercover in case you need saving? I’m fully prepared for a stakeout.”

Robin rolls her eyes, but her smile, which spreads wide enough to see all her teeth, gives away her love for your dramatics.

“No, I don’t need you to go undercover or anything. I mean, it is going to be nice knowing you’ll be here waiting for me to tell you all about it instead of having to call you and hope the city girl answers.” She teases, earning the scoff from you that she was looking for.

“I’m choosing to ignore that, and if at any point you change your mind, you know your own number.”

Earning a genuine laugh from Robin always makes your soul feel lighter, so when your joke lands and you get one, the heaviness of Steve that’s been weighing down on your shoulders eases up just a little bit.

”I’ve just never been approached in public before like that, you know? It’s not just the other girl you know is gay on campus. I don’t know, it feels good.” Your best friend’s confession makes you want to wrap her up in a hug, keeping the urge to remind her of your offer to move to the city with you to yourself for right now, letting her bask in the moment.

”Well, you're hot. Can you blame her? If you weren’t basically like a sister to me, I’d be all over it.” Wiggling your eyebrows, she flips you off, but you still catch the tinge of pink that paints her cheeks rosy.

”Please, Steve would have my head on a stake.” She snorts, purposely trying to get under your skin now.

”Robin.”

”What? I thought he was going to pop a blood vessel in his eye when I mentioned your little ‘adventure’ last week” She giggles, heading towards her bedroom.

If only she knew just how much those words were true. Your thighs meet like in the memory you can’t stop playing on a loop, palms turning sweaty, remembering the velvet of his lips so close to your neck.

”Wait! Did you ask that on purpose?!” You gasp, jumping to your feet to follow her.

”Maybe.”

”Maybe?!”

”You know what I do need help with?” She ignores you, spinning on her heel to meet your narrowed eyes.

”What?”

”Help me pick any outfit?” Pushing out her bottom lip, she gives you the kind of puppy dog eyes that no one in their right mind could say no to.

Sighing heavily, your feet drag on the carpet before flopping yourself onto her bed huffing out a “Fine” as the box springs squeak.

The rest of the day is spent going through what feels like every outfit in Robin’s possession, even getting desperate enough to try on some of your clothes despite your clashing styles. Settling on a pair of boot cut jeans, a black half crop top with a flannel shirt that you’re pretty sure she stole from Steve and the Dr. Martin’s you got her for her birthday last year, she was ready to break hearts. Blue eyes roll in the back of her head when you make her say ‘I’m the prize’ until you feel like she halfway believes it before handing over her I.D. that you’d found stuffed between the cushions of the couch in a frenzied panic to search for it only ten minutes prior.

The sun starts to set on Robin’s small apartment after she finally heads out the door, and the shadows that bounce off the white walls bring back the thoughts of Steve you’d successfully gotten rid of for a few fleeting hours.

Huffing to yourself with crossed arms, you watch the flat bag of popcorn spin around in the microwave. You can still hear the beginning Moonstruck playing on the TV in the living room, over the loud hum of the machine. Comfortable in an oversized shirt that lands just at the bottoms of your cotton sleep shorts, goosebump dot across your legs from the cool of the A/C. Your skin still tingles everywhere he touched and the week of radio silence feels worse the second time around.

The shrill sound of Robin’s phone and the first kernel of popcorn exploding in the bag overpower your ears all at once, making you jump. Mumbling cuss words under the now constant sound of popping, you try to calm your heart rate down, wandering to the living room. Your hand hovers over the phone, the realization about who might be on the other line making your stomach drop. He hadn’t called Robin yet. There’s a moment of hesitation, but you take a deep breath, letting the air expand in your lungs, silently counting to three before you grab the phone off its hook.

”Buckley residen-“

”I need you to come get me, I- I’ve made a huge mistake and I’m just so fuck - “ Robin cuts you off, the rasp in her voice cracking like she’s trying not to cry, “I’m just really embarrassed, please come get me.”

“What happened? Where are you? I’m coming, just - just tell me where you are.” Running to her bedroom to grab your sneakers with the phone pressed to your ear, you can hear her sniffle.

”Benningans, it’s the next town over. I’ll be outside -“

”Are you safe?” You panic, slipping your foot into your shoe as quickly as you can.

”I’m safe, I’m just, I’m embar- I don’t want to talk about it right now. I’m safe, I’ll be outside.” She mutters.

”I’ll get there as fast as I can, okay?” Feeling a little helpless, you try to ease the hurt that’s evident in her tone with soft reassurance.

”I’m just, I’m really glad you're here. I’ll see you soon.” She manages to get out before the line clicks dead.

Slipping your second shoe on, the realization that you don’t actually have a car to save her with, hits you like a ton of bricks.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Stomping back to the living room, your eyes find the mustard yellow address book next to the phone’s dock. Your fingers fumble through its pages, eyes squinting as you try to read Robin’s messy writing, searching for a familiar name. You find two:

Eddie and Steve.

You stare at the page, your moral compass going haywire. Despite the way he’s rented a space in your mind, the thought of seeing him alone again makes your stomach twist. Eddie would be simple. Eddie would be easy. Your thumb hovers over the first number in the one she has scribbled down for him, but no matter how hard you try, you can’t bring yourself to press it. She needs Steve.

You groan loudly, stomping your foot for good measure, before letting out a long breath through your nose, dialing his number that you knew you should have all along.

It only rings twice.

“Whatever it is, the answer is no,” Steve deadpans.

”Is that really how you answer your phone?” You scoff, doing your best to ignore the butterflies you’ve managed to stifle as they start to come alive at the sound of his voice.

“I thought this was - shit, I thought this was Henderson - erm I mean Dustin, you remember Dustin?” He stammers and you know that hand of his is running through his hair right now.

“Yeah, the middle schooler.”

“Well, he’s like nineteen now -“

“I didn’t call you to talk about Dustin, Steve,” You sigh heavily, rubbing the bridge of your nose, “Robin called me really upset from Bennigans, and I don’t have a car or any way to go get her-”

“I’m on my way.” He cuts you off without any hesitation,“Be outside in five minutes for me?”

”My shoes are already on.”

After a click, you’re left with the sound of the dial tone in your ear. You hang up the phone as warmth floods your body, easing some of your temporary worries.

Steve Harrington is making it hard to hate him.

The short walk to Steve’s BMW from Robin’s front door feels like stepping through a time machine.

One that takes you back to late nights sneaking out your bedroom window, always being extra careful not to wake your parents up so you could go make out with your secret kind of boyfriend under the stars. Those were always your favorite nights with him. The nights he’d put away the king Steve armor, those nights he’d just be Steve. A boy who just wanted to make his father proud, thinking maybe he’d stay home more if he was.

You can feel the way his eyes roam your body, the heat of his stare lingering on your exposed legs, setting your skin on fire. Suddenly more than aware of your lack of pants, only part of you regrets not changing into some leggings, but you try not to think about that too hard right now.

He clears his throat when you open the passenger door, the smell of leather and the dark woody sweet scent of oil surrounding you as you slide into your seat. The spice of his cologne tickles your nose when you close yourself in, clicking your seatbelt in place before daring to meet his eyes. The golden brown inside them shimmers with something you’d missed in the orange glow of the street light and the nerves still feel the same way they did five years ago. The only thing that hasn’t changed.

”Thanks for doing this,” you offer with a weak smile.

When he realizes you’ve put your weapons down for the night, his face softens with a crooked grin, subtle pink dusting the apples of his cheeks.

”I meant it when I said I can’t say no to you,” he starts, selfishly letting his eyes roam the smooth lines of your face that are finally not twisted up into a glare before realizing his slip up, “and Robin, my best friend obviously.”

”Our best friend, Steve.” You tease trying to ignore the tension that crackles in the empty space between you even worse than before.

”Whatever you have to tell yourself,” he winks, forearm flexing as he puts the car in drive.

Scoffing a ‘whatever’ with a playful roll of your eyes, you let your muscles relax into the familiar seat. The Police’s Every Breath You Take spills through the speakers just loud enough to be heard over the low rumble of the engine, and you become hyper aware of his hand resting on the stick shift, the tips of his fingers just close enough to brush against your thigh every time you hit a bump.

There’s a silence that falls between you once the street lights run out and his full focus shifts to the pitch black road ahead. The quiet is filled with what almost happened in his room, unspoken words that don’t dare to roll off of sober tongues. You wait until he’s too distracted looking for surprises that might run out from the woods on either side of you to let your eyes wander over and really take him in.

A white drawstring hangs low on his heather gray sweatpants that fit tight over his thighs spread wide. Your throat goes dry at the white tank top that hugs his broad chest, the gold chain that wraps around his neck getting lost in the thick patch of curls on display. You’re finally able to really make out more of his tattoo for the first time, thin, precise lines that look like feathers attached to a set of sparrow wings.

”Did she tell you what happened? I mean, is she safe?” He interrupts your greedy stare, eyes lighting up when he catches you, tucking it away for another time.

”Uhh, yeah,” you answer with a shake of your head, teeth biting down on your bottom lip with hot cheeks, “she’s safe, she kept saying she’s embarrassed but wouldn’t tell me why, just kept begging me to come get her.”

He just hums, lost deep in thought of all the things it could be, and his grip on the steering wheel tightens with worry.

“We’re only ten minutes away, so it won’t be too much longer now.”

He reassures you, but it feels like he needs it too, especially when his hand leaves the stick shift to run through his hair that looks more tousled than usual, making you wonder if he was lying in bed before this. A worried breath exhales through his nose, with a tight jaw, and you hate the way your stomach drops when both his hands find the steering wheel after he tugs on his roots a little bit.

Nervous fingers play with the bottoms of your sleep shorts, trying your best not to stare while you keep your gaze out the passenger window. Stolen glances are followed by tight lipped smiles when you’d always find him staring back. Honey and chestnut make your stomach flutter, and you think maybe some things never change.

It takes less than the ten minutes that Steve promised for the back roads to turn busy, and bright with the kind of lights a small town on a Saturday night has. A slouched frame sitting on the side of the road catches in his headlights, getting closer you see that Robin’s waves have lost all the bounce she left the house with, along with the rosy tint in her cheeks. The flashing Bennigans sign spins a block behind her, and the orange bulbs match the burning ember on the end of her cigarette that dangles from her full lips.

“Shit, it’s bad if she’s smoking,” Steve mutters, turning on his hazards as he pulls up next to her, the wheels of his car coming to a stop.

She hollows her cheeks out, taking one last drag, waving at you to stop unbuckling your seat belt as she gets to her feet. Blowing the smoke from her lungs into the wind, she flicks the half smoked butt into the street before opening the back door, sliding into the leather seats with an exasperated huff.

“Just, don’t – I’m okay,” she starts, closing the door and shutting out the whir of the traffic outside. “Turns out her boyfriend’s best friend really likes Tracy Chapman and Tori Amos too. She really thought me and him might hit it off after our talk at the record store today. I don’t want to talk about it, I just want to go home with my two favorite people and feel sorry for myself.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” Steve doesn’t miss a beat. Turning around in his seat, he flashes her his million-dollar Harrington smile. “I’m the king of feeling sorry for myself.”

Her lips twitch, but when she sees the natural roll of your eyes at the boy next to you, it turns into a full blown smile. A little shimmer came through in the dulled-out color of her eyes.

Got me up all night

all I’m singing is love songs.

“Honestly, now that I’m thinking about it, this girl sounds like a scammer, Rob. I mean, come on.” Steve snorts, rifling through her cupboards in the kitchen. Tracy Chapman and Tori Amos, what kind of game was she playing at anyway?”

Robin giggles from her place next to you on the couch, her head resting on your shoulder, the green apple of her shampoo still lingering on her curls that tickle your cheek.

“Plenty of people like those artists, Steve.” She sighs, but you can still hear her smile, “It’s fine, I’ll just stay the lonely Hawkins lesbian for the rest of my life, no big deal.”

”Shut up!”

”Will you stop?!”

You and Steve chide her at the same time, hard eyes meeting from across the living room and softening. He doesn’t even try to stop the lopsided grin that pushes up your favorite cheek and you hope Robin doesn’t feel the way it makes your skin warm.

“Whatever, I already warned you I’m going to be miserable. Gimmie a break, and you’re actually taking forever in there, by the way.” Whining, she sits up, sending a rush of fruit and leftover tobacco to your nose.

“Yeah, well, I can’t find your peanut butter,” he mutters, opening up the cabinet above the sink, the bottom of his tank top rising enough to see a sliver of sun kissed skin and a few more freckles. Why does it feel like there's always more?

”What are you even making anyway?” you ask, ignoring the way Robin’s head whips around. A smirk spreads wide across her face because you’re actually trying to make conversation with Steve.

“Just a little something that’s going to cure my best friend’s heartbreak,” he winks, the jar of JIF extra crunchy looking extra small in his grasp, twisting the cap off. “We came up with it together, actually.o biggie.”

Your gaze narrows, but he doesn’t miss the way the corners of your mouth twitch, something sparkling inside the dark gold in his eyes.

”Interesting, considering I ran to the store earlier to grab my best friend’s favorite ice cream, just in case.” You counter, something mischievous twisting up your lips. “You didn’t even think to stop and get it on our way home. Some friend.”

Robin’s smile lights up the room, very obviously enjoying the show, maybe even a little too much. Clapping her hands together, she lets out a content sigh before leaning back into the couch cushions.

”I really could get used to this,” she beams, “maybe we should have a contest, see which one of you can do the nicest things for me.”

You can’t stop the snort or the roll of your eyes that has Steve throwing his head back in a fully-bellied laugh, giving you the perfect view of his neck, and only Robin clocks the way your giggles are cut short and the secret way your eyes glaze over.

”I’m not gonna lie as much as I love crunchy peanut butter banana s’mores, I have to say Steve, the fact that she actually called you makes her the winner for the night.” She smirks, chuckling harder when you shove her with a hushed ‘Robin!’

His smile doesn’t fade as he starts to cut banana slices. Big eyes meet yours with the kind of look that threatens to melt you into the couch.

”That’s alright, I’ll be a gracious loser tonight, but just know, honey, I’m very competitive.” He warns, long fingers spreading the fruit evenly throughout the peanut butter that messily coats graham crackers.

“I don’t like to lose, so it’s fine.” Your quick reply deepens the smile lines in his cheeks, putting the finishing touches on your snacks.

“Yeah, this is definitely the life I was meant to live,” Robin gloats, nudging you, “I’m the prize, right?”

It’s your turn to throw your head back in the kind of laugh that rattles in your rib cage, too distracted to see the lovesick way Steve bites his bottom lip watching you from across the room.

But Robin does.

With a heart so full it might burst, tears threaten to spill from the ocean in her eyes, daydreaming about moments like this, only ever thinking they would be something that stayed trapped in the confines of her mind. The warming feeling of happiness wraps around Robin like a blanket when she gets to sit between you both on the couch. A distant friend she hasn’t seen in a long time, a secret she’s kept mostly to herself.

With a messy plate of half eaten treats and sticky fingers, she’s content watching Cher and Nicholas Cage fight over how much they love each other. Fully knowing that Steve is sneaking looks at you from over her head, smiling to herself at the nervous way you fiddle with your hands in your lap because of it.

Robin doesn’t fight the exhaustion that starts to make her eyelids heavy just a little halfway through the movie. It’s easy to give in when your body weight relaxes deeper into her side, and how Steve drapes his arm over the back of the couch, tucking you both into his chest with evening breaths.

You’re warm, cozier than normal, and it surrounds every part of you.

Cheek pressed against something that’s not firm enough to be the couch, you nuzzle yourself deeper, chasing the heat and the sleep that’s threatening to evade you. Your cushion starts to move, making eyes shift behind lids that aren’t ready to open yet. Lashes flutter, feeling the way your leg is slotted between someone else’s, and the warmth of a palm finds the small of your back, pulling you closer.

A deep sigh rumbles in your ear before fingertips lazily trace up and down the dip of your spine. Stubble tickles your forehead, and as coherency starts to come back to you, a softer patch of hair rubs against your cheek. The kind of spice and lingering sunshine that could only come from one person hits your senses, and the white cotton of Steve’s tank top finally becomes visible.

The shift in your breathing brings his soft touches to a halt, the muscles you’re pressed on your side against stiffening. Realizing your hands are sprawled across his chest, just under your chin, you can feel the way his heart races under your palm. He’s everywhere, and despite the way you’ve told yourself you hate him, your fingers curl into the cotton of his shirt because it feels like home. Toes pressing into his calf, you wind your leg around his tighter, and it turns timid fingertips sure of themselves, tracing patterns between your shoulder blades. You don’t dare look up at him yet, or it would make the way your own hand starts to explore his abs that twitch under your red nails real.

He feels different than you remember, there's more of him now, harder in spots that used to be soft. Your fingers get greedy, the blunt ends of your nails scratching along the outline of his happy trail, earning a low groan from him that vibrates deep in your core. Those butterflies that have made a permanent home out of you start to stretch their wings, and when they feel the soft velvet of his lips against your forehead, they tickle at your ribcage and kick up your heart rate. You wonder if he can feel it.

It’s the faintest kiss, one that you’re not sure you would’ve even felt if you were asleep, but it makes you lean in closer. Inhaling deeply, tears sting at the corner of your eyes when the familiar scent only makes you crave him more. After years spent denying the existence of his touch from your memory, it’s almost overwhelming to feel it again.

The muscles in his arm underneath your neck twitch, and the fingers that have been drawing lazy circles on your back move slowly up your shoulder. The backs of them run down your arm before they finally connect with your skin, goosebumps exploding underneath his touch in a ball of electricity that you can feel on the pads of them that start a new path up the loose sleeve of your shirt.

You fiddle with the bottom hem of his tank top, the heat of his body radiating against already flushed skin. Brave fingers dare to dip underneath only to get stopped by a large palm wrapping around your wrist

“Baby,” there's a hint of a smile and a little bit of grogginess in his voice that gives away that he hasn’t been awake that much longer than you, “I think you should at least look at me before I let you get under my shirt.”

Biting at your bottom lip, you push yourself deeper into his chest, embarrassed, feeling the gentle shake of his body when he laughs.

“Come on pretty, let me see your face.”

His affection makes your heart swell, and you know what it means if you look him in the eyes. Your nails dig into the cotton, tugging at the fabric a little while you pull yourself together, lashes fluttering against your cheeks, shaking the rest of the sleep. Lifting your head up from its hiding place, you cross the line you promised yourself you wouldn’t, but when you meet the green that shimmers in the darkness of his eyes, and the crooked grin that twists up his full pink lips, it feels good to give in.

Releasing the hold on your wrist, he’s gentle, almost hesitant, when his warm palm cups your cheek. The rough pad of his thumb traces the line of your cheekbone feather light, and you can’t help but lean into his touch. No more armor, fleeting glances, or stolen looks, not when he’s this close and even more handsome in the glow of the moonlight.

“Beautiful.” He murmurs just loud enough for you to hear, and your legs somehow wrap around his tighter.

”Yeah?” you whisper, your fingers coming up to the play with the gold chain dangling from his neck. “Why didn’t you kiss me then?”

”What?”

”Last week,”

”That wasn’t the right time,” he sighs, eyes tracing every line of your face like he’s committing it to memory, “It would have ruined it.”

“Ruined what?” You press, twisting the metal between your fingertips, heartbeat ringing in your ears.

“My chance at trying to do this the right way, the way you deserve.” He doesn’t hesitate to say it, like it’s something he’s thought about for years, and it makes your head spin.

“What about now?”

“That depends,” he hums, the pad of his thumb dragging across the slight pout of your bottom lip, threatening to steal the air from your lungs.

”On?” Your voice comes out just above a whisper. Tilting your chin up, you can still smell the peanut butter on his breath.

”If you want me to.” He breathes, the tip of his nose running along the length of yours.

Your hold on his gold chain tightens, pulling him even closer. His eyebrows pinch together when he feels the slightest brush of your lips against his, and he can still taste the sweetness of the banana.

”Please tell me you want me to.”

The desperation in his voice is enough for you to tug him down, closing what’s left of the small gap, your top lip catching against his full bottom one. Just enough to feel the familiar silk that could leave a wildfire in their wake before you finally speak.

“Kiss me, Steve.”

A groan rattles deep in his chest, and he doesn’t hesitate to do what he’s wanted to since he saw you. Applying just enough pressure to wake up every last butterfly, the tip of his nose pushes into your cheek when he slots his lips with yours. It’s soft at first like he’s testing the waters, taking it slow so he can savor it, just in case you never let him do it again.

He pulls away enough to look at you, chestnut eyes blown out wide, and you hate that you already miss his kiss. Giving into everything you’ve fought for so long, it’s your turn to capture his lips. It stuns him at first, but when you open your mouth, his body melts easily into yours, and that big hand of his moves from your cheek to hold the back of your neck. Tongue swiping boldly across your lower lip, he begs you to let him in.

Moans get hidden, muffled inside each other's mouths after you grant him access, your fingers tangle themselves inside the thick forest of his hair that’s still just as soft as you remember. Nipping at his bottom lip, the grip on the back of your neck tightens and you can feel the way he kicks up in his sweats because of it. Your own thighs threatening close when you’re reminded of what’s between his legs.

“Baby,” he warns in between kisses, feeling the roll of your hips, but you don’t miss the subtle way he tries to meet them with his own.

It’s too easy to get lost in him, and the years it took to move past him make even more sense when your tongue finds his again. Fighting for dominance, you try not to think about the irreversible damage tonight might do to you as you tug at his roots, teeth scraping together, the kiss turns more heated by the second. Years of anger and longing come out in desperate touches. His hand finds its way to your hip, the pads of his fingers brushing against the skin under your shirt, sending a shiver up your spine, letting you roll them one, two, three times before tightening his hold.

He pulls you closer, letting you win before his nose nudges against your cheek, his lips finding the corner of your mouth. Catching his breath, he trails them along your jaw before making his way down your neck. Your chest heaves, fingers turning soft and slowly running through his hair. He hums against your skin, his hand staying under your shirt, the warmth of his palm covering the small of your back, leaving wet kisses on the sensitive spot behind your ear.

”Let me take you on a date,” he whispers, leaving one more under his jaw before pulling back to look at you.

”Steve -“

”Just one,” he begs, bumping his nose with yours, smirking when it makes you smile.

”Let me sleep on it,” you sigh, ducking your head under his chin to hide. Too many thoughts trying to occupy space in your mind with a head still dizzy from his lips.

”I’ll take what I can get,” he laughs, the tips of his fingers starting up the familiar patterns that started all of this, quickly make your eyelids heavy, nuzzling deeper into his chest. You weren’t ready to think about tomorrow yet.

🌻 chapter four

#my writing #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x y/n

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shotmrmiller · 4 months

Text

Needs must II

Pairing: Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Reader

WC: 1.9k

TW: unprotected p in v and smut + jealous Simon

It’s been months since you started your business arrangement with Ghost. Once a month, he’d test your very limits with a different kink of your choice. The sex was fantastic, and the way he treated you as if you were the only woman for him like he had feelings for you, had your heart soaring. He would sometimes even stay the night, and leave in the morning.

It was only a matter of time before your dream came crashing down.

—

You texted him one day, asking if he was available for a work dinner as your plus one, and he responded that he couldn’t. I’m not available that weekend, he had said. How naive you were, thinking that maybe he had some friends to meet up with or something.

I’ve got a couple of clients to meet.

Silly little you, with your heart on your sleeve, asked him if he couldn’t cancel or postpone, that he didn’t need to have sex with you.

This is my job, lovie.

Just like that, your illusion shattered. His job, his job, his job. It’s all you were. All the lingering touches, the whispered words in your ear as he fucked you dumb with every sensual roll of his hips. A bloody job. Your tears welled up slowly but refused to fall. It’s your delusion that had led you here, heart aching over an escort. You were a big girl. You’d get over it.

Well, do you know someone else that can accompany me?

And that’s how you ended up with Johnny. He was beautiful, to say the least. Something out of a magazine. Twinkling blue eyes, straight white teeth with a mohawk, and a devastating roguish smile.

“Name’s Johnny, hen. Ghost didnae tell me ye were such a bonnie lass,” and he raked his eyes from your toes, up, taking in your evening outfit. “I can see why he kept ye all to himself.” Your chest hurt at that.

“Cute, Johnny. Adorable. Let’s get going, the less time I’m there, the better.” He moves to hang your purse over his shoulder, tucks your hand into the crook of his elbow, and shoots you a grin.

“As my bonnie wishes.” You ignore how warm your cheeks feel with the way he looks at you. It’s just his job, after all.

—

You stumbled as your heel got caught on the rug in your bedroom, giggling into Johnny’s mouth as you fell back on the bed. The alcohol in your system had you feeling fuzzy, and your core throbbed just by feeling Johnny’s tongue entangle with yours. You truly hadn’t planned to sleep with him, but since he’s already here, and you’re feeling a bit melancholic, you might as well enjoy his company. You’ve paid for it, after all.

“A-ah, Johnny, you’re gonna—” you pause to moan when he moves his lips down your neck and sucks on the delicate skin below your ear.

“I’m gonna what, hen? Ye dinnae wanna see me on ye come mornin’?” he sucked a little harder and trailed nips down the column of your throat, sucking another bite by your collarbone. “Lift that dress up, hen, I wanna see those colorful knickers ye’ve been teasing me with all night.”

You grasp the hem of your dress and raise it until your clothed core is exposed. He gazes down at you, his eyes taking in the obnoxious pink, sheer fabric. “Lookit tha’. I can see your wet slit, dripping just f’me, eh?” he lowers himself onto his knees, crystal blue eyes glued to your pussy. You dig your heels into your bed and raise your hips, intent on taking them off when Johnny stops you. “Leave it on. I’m gonna eat this pretty pussy over these cute little knickers,” licking a broad stripe from the bottom to the top of your slit.

“God,” you whimpered as he flicks the tip of his tongue against your clit, then gives your bud one firm kiss, and another, before pulling away.

“Not god, sweets, it’s Johnny.” He moves the gusset to the side, just enough to push in one thick finger, and then two, curling and pushing— intent on finding your sweet spot, all while continuously tonguing your clit.

You sit up to grab the back of his head, grinding your hips against his mouth, and open your eyes. His heavy-lidded gaze is penetrating— blue eyes glowing in contrast to the dark colour of his eyelashes.

His fingers push into your front wall, stroking you so perfectly, and he flattens his tongue. You let out short, ragged gasps at the coil threatening to snap inside of you. Just a little more, s’all you need.

“Johnny…” you keen, and it’s like he senses that you need a push because he encircles your clit with his lips over your knickers and sucks.

Screaming your climax, your body curls in on itself, almost crushing Johnny’s head with your thighs from the force of your orgasm. Johnny feels your clit throbbing, pulsing, and he is so good because he doesn’t stop sucking on it, prolonging your intense pleasure.

Releasing him from your leg prison, you fall back limp, your vision hazy as if you’re looking at a dream sequence in a movie.

“Ye ok, bonnie?” and the uh-huh that slips out of your mouth must sound as stupid as it did to you because he lets out a low chuckle.

“Well, because ye told me it was supposed to only be a date, I didnae bring any condoms.” Sluggishly, you point at your nightstand.

“I’ve got some.” You close your eyes for a second, taking in steady, calming breaths, trying to gather your wits when he breaks the silence of the room.

“Ach, these are latex. I’m allergic to latex, sweets.” Opening your eyes, you stare at the ceiling to weigh out your choices. You can’t let him leave until he fucks you into the mattress so hard you become one with it. Damn the alcohol for making you so horny, your inhibitions are lowered. Or maybe Johnny did this to you.

“I figure you’re clean?”

“‘Course, hen. It’d be really bad f’business to not be.”

With a conceding sigh, you nod, taking off your heels. "Right. Then get over here and fuck me.”

You hear him take off his clothes, “Lie back, hands on the headboard, if ye would.”

Grabbing on, he crawls to you and swipes the head of his cock on your sopping cunt, pulling a hiss from behind your teeth. “Lookit tha’. Greedy cunt is ready f’me.” And to prove just how greedy you are, you spread your legs wider, silently begging for him to take you. And he does. Inch by devastating inch, his thick cock stretches you, to the point of stinging pain, and it must’ve reflected on your face because he leans forward to kiss you, and whispers against your lips, “ooh, big stretch, bonnie. Take a breath f’me,” slowly pushing forward until he’s completely sheathed within you.

He waits a bit, kissing you as you get used to him. “Y’ready f’me? I’m gonna fuck ye so good, yer gonna think of me when ye touch yerself.” When you don’t say anything, he raises himself up with one arm, using the other hand to give you a light tap on your cheek. “Y’hear me?” This time you jerkily nod. “Good.” He rises to his haunches and presses your thighs to your chest, your feet flat against his strong chest. He pushes back in, this time grinding his hips into you, before starting an unrelenting, punishing rhythm. The wails you let out were that of a dying animal, but you couldn’t care less. Johnny was hitting the right spot over and over, bringing tears to your eyes. “F-fuck, oh, I—ah,” and then he canted his hips to catch your clit with every thrust.

You felt the fire of an oncoming orgasm in your belly, and you moved your hands from the headboard to claw at his sides, nails digging into his obliques. Your toes curled into his chest, fingers scratching welts downward as your peak slammed into you with the strength of a battering ram.

“Oh my godddd, please! Oh fuck please please don’t stop!” and you heard the cruel laugh Johnny let out in response to your begging.

“As if anyone could stop me,” your walls flutter around his cock, and he growls, “Go on then, bonnie,” and starts pounding into you at a bruising pace, “Give me my reward.”

You scream, again, as you come, almost crying at the incredible bliss of it slamming into your body. If you weren’t having such an out-of-body experience, you'd’ve heard Johnny grunt through clenched teeth at how jealous Ghost is gonna be.

Going completely limp, you drop your head back and look at Johnny, who’s intently watching you.

“Ye good, sweets?” and you give the barest nod. “A’right. I’m gonna finish, okay?” and he starts thrusting again, and that you’re so sensitive, it borders pain. You grab his shoulders to pull him into an embrace and start sucking on his neck. “Oh, f-fuck, bite me.”

His cock inside you swells, impossibly hard, and you use a good amount of strength to bite the meat on his neck and shoulder— bringing him to his peak. He groans loudly into your ear as he thrusts, releasing thick gooey white, coating your walls and womb.

Pulling his softening length out of you, he lies down next to you as he catches his breath. After a couple of minutes, he brings himself up on his elbow and grabs your face, giving you a toe-curling kiss you moan into.

“Same time, next month?” and you nod against his lips. Maybe it was time to move on from Ghost, for your own sake.

—--

The next day, Johnny and Simon are at the gym working out, when Johnny lifts his shirt to wipe his sweaty face and Simon notices the scratches on his sides.

“What’d ya fight that has your sides lookin’ like tha’, Johnny?” he says chuckling.

“Nae. Yer kitten’s got claws on her. Not tha’ I mind but she jus’ about tore me open.”

Simon’s smile is wiped from his face at what Johnny just said. “What kitten?”

“Yer girl, who else?”

He slowly turns to face Johnny, brows furrowed and eyes hard, like stone. “Ya fuck ‘er?”

Johnny looks at him. “Surprise, surprise. An escort fucking his client. Quick, make it a headline.” Then shrugs. “Jus’ business, Simon,” he pauses, “Although, I understand why she’s got you so pussy whipped.”

Simon grins at him, and asks, “Was she good?” and Johnny grins back. “Fuckin’ delicious. Now let’s finish this, I’m tryna eat.”

—

Simon grips his steering wheel until his knuckles turn white as he stares at his phone.

You fuck Johnny?

It IS his job, isn’t it?

Your text was a blow, right below the belt. He doesn’t know why you sleeping with someone else stings— at least it was Johnny, but this puts things into perspective. He can’t let you go.

It’s time to give this up. And he texts Johnny exactly that.

And if she doesn’t want a whore?

Simon lets out a deep, shuddering sigh.

Then she says no.

But what Johnny doesn’t know is that he isn’t taking no for an answer. You’re his, now. And no one is going to take you from him.

A/N: I wrote a lot for the smut but ended up leaving it out for our boi, Simon. He's out for blood. Turning it into Ghoap too because i'm not free of those shackles just yet.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #cod #cod mwii #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mctavish x reader #soap mactavish #simon ghost riley x reader

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shroomi1e · 1 year

Text

❝ i object! ❞

kazuha + albedo

summary: you as a noble should naturally marry another noble, despite your love for another. your parents had managed to pry your lover off of you and get you wedded to a powerful nobleman- that is, until your past lover comes barging through the doors on your wedding day.

cw: gn!reader, arranged/forced marriage, teeny tiny bit of alcohol, angst to comfort

what i listened to while writing: wave - wave to earth

a/n: *slowly crawls out of my cave* hey guys. it's me again😭 i randomly got the motivation to write again, idk what demons possessed me to write this in the span of 5 hours but at least i have new content!!!! i was gonna do this with more characters but kazuha and albedo were the only ones i see pulling this cheesy-typa stuff tbh

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kazuha

“…what?”

your gaze fell down towards the wooden docks you were standing on. kazuha frowned, his grasp on your hand loosening. he was aboard the crux, and the crew was preparing to leave inazuma for another trip to liyue.

“i’m from one of the tri-commissions, kazuha,” you said defeatedly. “it’s over for us now. i’m going to be wedded as an alliance with another commission. i… i’m sorry…” but before kazuha could respond, the large ship began to sail away, his hands completely slipping away from yours.

kazuha leaned over the edge of the ship, watching your figure get smaller and smaller. though he hoped you would at least give him a wave goodbye, you simply turned around and left the docks of ritou, leaving him saddened and confused.

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kazuha spent the next month lost in his thoughts. ink blots were all that filled the pages of his journal now that he’s lost his muse.

“it’s over for us now.”

those words played in his mind like a broken record in hopes that maybe he could find a sense of doubt from those words, just a hint that it wasn’t truly over. he’s tried to understand, truly. but the thought of losing you ate kazuha up from the inside, especially knowing that he had no control over it. there weren’t any flaws in him or you that caused this, only circumstance. and that stung his heart more than anything.

despite kazuha’s wishes and prayers, the wedding would happen either way. news eventually reached his ears that two commissions from inazuma would be joined through a marriage between the two heirs, and that was when kazuha truly felt like he was losing control. you were being swept away so suddenly, carried away in the arms of another man. what was he to do?

you were being fitted into a kimono that very second, the maids tying the knots and wrapping the fabric around your body. your limbs felt heavy like lead, your head hanging low like rotten fruit on a tree. you tried to live in a fantasy just for at least a few moments, imagining that kazuha was the one you were being wed to, not a nobleman.

kazuha almost felt like a dream now that he was gone, as if he was only a fleeting imagination before you had to wake up to reality. the ephemeral touches, the honey-dipped sunsets, the smell of salt and the sea. that was all simply an illusion. you had to go back to the wooden floors, the inked papers and the melting candles. this was reality now, where everything was out of your control.

“this is all for the sake of our family, you know that?” your father’s voice broke your train of thought. “think of this as a way to pay us back for raising you. you’re much better off with a nobleman than that wandering fugitive anyways.”

you grit your teeth and tightened your fist, your knuckles whitening. “i know.”

the ceremony went through in a daze, the sacred sake tasting bitter on your tongue. a part of you felt like you should’ve just jumped on that ship along with kazuha. regret sat in your stomach like a sickly bag of bleach. but you knew it was for the better, both for you and your family.

after the vows, the priest then asked, “does anyone here object to the wedding?”

a heavy silence followed. the two of you were heirs to the biggest commissions in inazuma, it was obvious that nobody would dare to object this wedding. your gaze fell further down in defeat. it was really happening now.

“i object!”

your head snapped up from the ground and turned towards the voice. at the end of the crowd stood kazuha, the wind blowing softly through his hair, the golden light from the sunset outlining his silhouette.

emotions rushed through your chest: happiness, regret, sadness, doubt, and guilt. the cup you were holding dropped to the ground and shattered. the crowd began to murmur and gossip.

“kazuha,” you breathed out.

the crowd parted to make way for your lover, who confidently walked towards you and held his hand out. everything around you seemed to suddenly disappear the moment your fingertips met his. it was only the two of you now.

“kazuha… what on earth are you doing here?”

“i just need you to answer one question for me,” kazuha said softly. “do you trust me?”

by the way he eagerly interlocked his fingers with yours, his intentions were obvious. if you were to answer this question, it would mean throwing away everything you’ve known thus far: your family, your possessions, your wealth, your inheritance, your responsibilities. everything. but with the way kazuha was silently pleading you with his eyes… how could say no?

you let out a shaky breath. “i do.”

kazuha merely smiled in return, his eyes softening as if to tell you that everything was going to be alright. that he understood your choices, and that all you need to do was take this final leap of faith.

“hurry up kazuha!” beidou’s voice interrupted. a few meters away, the crux was anchored to the docks, the crew eagerly waiting to set sail. “the guards might come and take ya anytime soon!”

kazuha held your hand tightly and began running towards the docks, the two of you giggling as he helped you up on the ship. the nobleman, priest, and the crowd all watched in disbelief as you hopped onto the crux, sailing away with the samurai.

the crew cheered as you and kazuha shared a kiss of reunion, the anchor lifting from the seafloor and the two of you sailing away into the golden sun, just like you were meant to be.

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albedo

“i…see.” albedo’s eyes wander off to nowhere in particular after hearing your explanation. he blinks a few times as if to confirm that he wasn’t dreaming.

“it’s not your fault, albedo, and neither is it mine,” you added. “i hope you understand.”

for the first time since albedo was created, he feels numb. his fingertips lose grip as it all finally settles in. you’re leaving him for another man.

of course, he knows that’s not really the case. albedo understands your circumstance as well as the political powers at play, but at the end of the day, that’s what’s happening, right? you’re being wedded off to another man, which of course means you’ll have to leave him.

and when he sees you take off your ring- the ring he gave you- and put it on his desk, his heart shatters. you silently take your leave, disappearing into the dragonspine snow. albedo’s gaze is immediately pulled to the golden band on his desk, which seemed so much duller now that it wasn’t on your finger.

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projects seem more pointless than ever before, and piles of crumpled up drafts fill albedo’s trash bin. he’s taken down all the portraits of you in his home because it was too painful to bear, yet he can’t deny that he was still hopelessly in love with you. the thought of you standing at the altar with another man made albedo positively sick. and there was nothing he could do about it.

he even decided to abandon his projects to visit the city in hopes that he could catch a glimpse of you, but you never seemed to be there. he’d wander for what seemed like hours, only for it to be in vain. ‘of course,’ he tells himself, ‘they’d be busy preparing for the wedding.’

the ring in his pocket weighs heavier than before. he takes it out and twirls it in his hand, the afternoon sun reflecting off of it almost blindingly. the church bells ring in the distance, as well as the melody from the church organ.

wait… the organ is playing.

albedo clasps his hand around the ring tightly before frantically running up the stairs towards the cathedral. the scent of flowers fills his nostrils as he makes his way past the statue of barbatos and climbs the final flight of stairs until he’s met with the wooden doors of the cathedral.

he won’t lose you. he can’t lose you.

albedo’s hands feel heavy as his palm rests flat against the door. once the organs stop playing, the faint voice of a priest could be heard from outside. he can hear the nobleman say his vows, then you. his flat palm turns into a fist as he contemplates what to do next. he’s never liked crowds, nor has he ever liked being the center of attention. this could certainly ruin his reputation, and hell, the clan you’re getting married to might even get him fired but-

the thought of you being by his side again gives albedo more than enough courage to push against the doors.

“does anyone object to this wedding?”

with one strong push, the doors swing open. sunlight spills into the cathedral and forms a path of light leading to you. and dear lord barbatos, you look breathtaking.

albedo watches as you turn around in confusion. the ring you were holding in one hand clatters to the floor, echoing down the hall.

though albedo had planned on walking towards you, he couldn’t help but start running down the aisle. panting, he turns to the priest. “i object this wedding. i am their rightful lover, am i not?”

you step down from the altar, your hands reaching to caress his face and gently wipe the sweat from his forehead. “even after everything i told you… you still came. i tried so hard to hurt your feelings, so why are you here?”

despite the tears pooling in your eyes, you’re smiling. and that’s all albedo needed to see. “i must be going insane, y/n. i’m not one to act like this.”

he kneels down right then and there, holding up the ring with two of his fingers. “will you marry me?”

you take a moment to look down at albedo, who’s kneeling before you in a silent plead. the faint bags under his eyes are proof enough that he’s missed you. your family would hate you for this. doing this would mean to be shunned and disowned from your clan. the support you once had would dissipate in an instant. albedo might be put in danger as well. but you’d rather have nothing and albedo rather than everything but albedo.

“yes,” you said before sliding the ring on your ring finger, right where it belonged. you grab albedo’s arm and run out the cathedral, much to the protest of your family sitting at the pews.

you skip down the steps in a hurry before turning your head to see albedo smiling softly. you’re dolled up, and the afternoon glow of the sun hits your face just perfectly. and with his ring resting on your finger, albedo can’t help but simply adore you.

‘you are killing me softly,’ he thinks, ‘yet you seem to be the only thing keeping me alive.’

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centrally-unplanned · 5 months

Text

The thing about morality is that it only matters when it's real. Discussions of rules or norms for what is right or wrong are almost always, at some level, illusions, approximating reality and guiding decisions in an uncertain world - which does not make them useless, just contextual. Profaning god in your bedroom can never be “wrong” - there is no one to hear you, no one to be hurt by it. You can only show something is really wrong from the intentions of the actions and their results.

So with that out of the way, lets talk about Knives Chau - and specifically, how the comic vs the anime handled that part of the story.

Scott Pilgrim vs The Reification of Dating a High Schooler

There is an extremely pervasive meme in Scott Pilgrim discourse that our titular Scott is a scumbag. Our returning whipping boy the Kotaku article loves this idea, describing Scott’s “detestable behavior” and wondering “was it too subtle the first time about Scott being an absolute shitbag?”. There is this viral headline screenshot from an interview floating around right now riding that same line:

Which is, of course, pretty much false. Its up to you in the end, “shitbag” is a subjective description, but the story just isn’t about events that would be described that way. Its the story of a guy getting over an awful ex, hurting some people, then meeting a new person, and realizing step-by-step what it takes to be their partner and levelling up as a person each time he does. He starts off broken, and Ramona of course is just as broken - getting better is their mutual arc. And its fundamentally about relationship drama - those stakes don’t make you a scumbag lol, just clueless, unless you are terminally online and don’t know what real stakes are.

I will let O’Malley get the last word in with his quote the writer of that interview is hilariously trying to torture into his headline:

There's a bit of, like, young people see Scott Pilgrim a certain way, and, you know, there's a lot of, like, 18-19-year-old fans that are really judgmental of the character. They're like, "Oh, he's a bad person. I would never do that." But I always tell them, like, get back to me when you're 25 or 30, tell me how your 20s went. Were you a bad person? Everyone has to make choices and do things in life that maybe they're not going to be proud of later.

Scott is a scumbag the way everyone is - you yourself will likely commit similar sins; that at least seems to be the authorial intent, and I agree with it.

So how does dating Knives Chau slot into this?

Despite the memes, age, in fact, is just a number - two consenting people dating does not a sin make. The reason dating underage people is bad is because of its consequences, not the categorical imperative. So what are the consequences of dating Knives Chau in the comic?

Knives is, as a consequence of dating a guy who is simply via his age able to appear so much cooler than her peers to her, absolutely obsessed with Scott. She worships his band:

She starts aping his taste in music and interests; she slots herself into his circle of friends, who don’t relate to her, even after their breakup (often drinking her way through it):

She totally spirals after he cheats on her and leaves her, blaming everyone but him; she is wounded and hurt for months, a year, over a relationship that lasted weeks:

Knives Chau is a literal poster child for why you should not date a high schooler. She is, at every turn, emotionally not ready to date someone who is not at her own level of social development, and is deeply affected by it. It is, sometimes, played for laughs - that is the nature of the comic, everything is played for laughs, but I would have given it a bit more dramatic space myself - but over the course of the story Scott himself realizes how much of an ass he was to her, and how he didn’t take what happened seriously.

The reason I view this with charity is what Scott did to lead to this - he met a cute girl on the bus! He was deeply hurt and kind of numb in life, and found someone who was safe and easy to talk to. He never attempts to kiss her (she starts trying to kiss him which he repeatedly rejects) they don’t even hold hands, and it lasted a few weeks. He knew deep down, pretty much immediately, it was fake:

Then he met an actual person he liked, and with some browbeating from Wallace agreed to break up with her, but chickened out for a day. Then the next day he decides to break up with her, and she drops the L bomb before he can, so he instantly ends it. It is really awkward for everyone involved.

Pushing off an awkward and uncomfortable conversation resulting from a dumb decision you made on a whim for a week - god I relate to that, that’s everyone! If you think it isn’t you I think you're lying. Its why this relationship is so interesting in the comic - Scott is always one step removed from it, putting it at abeyance, and the fact that something so minor to him is so destructive to her is a really good portrait of how these kinds of things happen. Its so easy to hurt someone when you don’t even know what the stakes are, and when its coming not from malice, but from weakness. Its a very good portrayal of a bad relationship because its bad in a relatable way, even if as a story is a bit more dramatic than is typical. And its a great portrayal of how fraught age gaps can be - this bad relationship is part of what makes the comic a good story.

But its 2023, we don’t give a shit about any of that anymore!

O’Malley in the same interview discusses the cultural shift around these kind of relationships:

I felt like in this day and age, I had to provide clarity on that [relationship]. Because when I wrote the first books, I took it for granted that people would understand that dating a high schooler was a bad thing. But on the internet, in this day and age, people are like, "He's dating a high schooler. That's terrible!" Like, that's pretty much what I say on page 1 of the book. But I try to spell it out a little bit more this time.

He isn’t telling the full story though - it was bad in 2004, but not bad the way it is today. Its dubiousness was mitigated by its frequency; people were doing this kind of shit all the time. Scott Pilgrim is a bass guitarist in an indie band; fucking groupies is like built into the cover charge. Half the problem Scott has in dating Knives is that she is the wrong kind of 17-year-old - had Scott met her at 1 am in the aftermath of a Born Ruffian’s concert at the Whippet Lounge knocking down shots off the back of her fake ID, no one would have even noticed. Hell, no one does notice; there is someone who actually makes out with a drunk 17-year-old Knives Chau in the comic Scott Pilgrim, and isn’t Scott Pilgrim:

No one cares about Kim’s inebriated petting session here; that is 10% because she is a Girl and Girls Can’t Be Predators, 40% because she isn’t the main character, and 50% because Kim Pine’s dating history is not a useful proxy battleground for GamerGate-adjacent nerd culture wars in ~2014; but that is road that goes directly to hell, so let's veer back.

The point, of course, is that in 2004 this is a crime flecked with normality, something your friend would do and you would maybe just cock an eyebrow at:

Its not that in discourse today - it is radically more condemned. It is not a contextual sin, but an original sin. It underwent a process I am calling reification - where it goes from being just a shifting descriptor of reality, to a thing in itself, with a defined (reified) meaning. And to be clear, that is in a lot ways on net a good thing? The reality is that, despite everyone’s protestations, there are today thousands of 17-year-olds taking the L line out to a gig at the Brooklyn Steel and going down on a 25-year-old guy they just met in a back alley off Frost St who swears he’s a “drummer in a sick new band” that played here “just last week”, he promises, and she is having a great time, bragging to her friends about how hot his tattoo was, and then shipping herself off to Cornell next year to start on her pre-med track with barely a memory. But for every dozen of those, there is at least one person who is deeply, deeply hurt, a Knives Chau who never deserved this. The rest can have a slightly worse time, its probably worth it.

That does not make it a categorical imperative, though - the reification has masked that truth. The crime comes from the context - those other girls aren’t victims, they would laugh at you for suggesting they were. But in 2023, Scott Pilgrim Takes Off is no longer concerned with context. It is telling you, right to your face, that Scott is a bad dude. Over and over and over - jokes from the Evil League about “wow, I thought we were evil”, its not subtle.

Yet meanwhile, Knives Chau is, like, fine? She dates Scott, is totally into him, and then literally in the middle of his funeral forgets about him for Envy crashing it:

Picks up the bass and has yuri-inflected playtime with Kim the literal next day:

And less than a week later is pitching an off-broadway musical adaption of Scott’s life to a billionaire Matthew Patel - I can’t explain that okay, I’m as confused as you are.

She is mad at Scott, sure, but she is over it in a matter of days. Hell, notice how she was already a fan of the Clash at Demonhead now? There is no scene of Scott introducing her to his kind of music. He didn’t change her. By the end she is a member of his band and they are totally chill:

This is, again, about a week or two later.

Knives is not an important character in this show, way less than in the original, this is no grand sin. But I still find it very interesting: O’Malley is wrong. He “spells it out” way less in this version when it comes to the actual consequences of Scott’s actions. Everyone’s verbal condemnations are substitutes to replace the real damage his actions dealt in the comic. Scott is a better person this time, in a world that has universally agreed he is worse (still not a good move ofc). Even Scott’s moment of apology to Knives about their dating is so tepid its almost Straussian:

Its ‘frowned upon’…which is not the same thing as saying it was wrong! I don’t think this is intentional, its just funny, but its a nice capstone nevertheless.

And it had to be this way, not just for media in general, but for Scott Pilgrim in particular. Not only are sexual crimes far more reified today, but Scott Pilgrim’s sin of dating a high schooler is reified as well - its the first piece of discourse everyone encounters about it. Its the ur-debate of the franchise. The idea of actively engaging on this point, and digging deeper into it…its too hot, too controversial. Way better to shy away from it, disown it. The discourse wrote this part of the script over the course of a decade; its not something the creatives had any say in.

Honestly they should have just gone all the way - just make Knives 19. Then how tepid it is wouldn’t be a distraction anymore. Scott can just be an asshole for cheating on her, that would work fine. If you aren’t going to commit to the reality of these things, you shouldn’t bother with it at all.

#scott pilgrim #essay

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