#hope im one of the first to do this heheh

[vinestaff]

for what it's worth, i was telling the truth when I said I enjoyed working with you

[ato-dato]

HELP! I don't know what comic idea to work on!!! Please!!! This is a life or death situation!!!! Help!!!

[turnedpalefromlackofsun]

so i spent money. and guess what

first time in my life im not satisfied with the collection of items i got

earrings because i think they will match her skin shade very nicely. its a copper and orange gem set because her dressing sense is more mature.

gold color copper tea spoon specifically for chai. i was trying to haggle for the tea set but i failed so just this. at the very least the tea spoon can be used for the sugar. its actually very selfish and delusional but it will ease me to think that she can use a tool connected to me to bring sweetness into her life

and then a sonic toy because shes the first sonic fan ive ever met in my life besides myself. when i was a child i used to wish sonic merch existed. now it does. id assume she wouldve felt the same. ive been to her house before a long time ago and i saw the decorations.

there should be more. this isnt enough to speak for me

avo spent money and wants to spend more. qayamat. doomsday is here

[abyssyby]

sylus's little twins — intro

— meet Lucian & Kyros, sylus’s little energy storm! ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-

ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ: hi hi hi! im so excited to get this out hehehe, a formal-ish introduction to the twin boys i've been writing about in my boydad!sylus au. they were initially passing thoughts, but with all of your continuous enthusiasm towards the littles, they'd grown into these darling characters. i hope you enjoy & love them as much as i do! ❀-urs

kyros & lucian highlight | sylus x reader | parenting hcs/scenarios, little twin hcs, mama!reader, soft boydad!sylus 💕 ft. big twins (luke & kieran)!

general info:

☆ Lucian was born first, Kyros 10.9 minutes later 

ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊

sylus was there for all the check-ups & ultrasounds but only found out you were having twins during the last check-up. 

Lucian has always been more energetic and drawn to the spotlight, even in the womb— Kyros, sleepier and cozier, has tucked himself behind his brother in all their photos. It wasn't until the final weeks that Lucian decided to reveal his first little surprise to his parents— when he shifted and made way for them to meet the second heartbeat. Sylus had to take a seat. "Beloved, breathe," you chuckled, rubbing his thumb with your own as he blinks away the spots in his vision.

sylus barely slept the first three days they were born, watching all three of you like a guard dog 

not so much worried that something terrible will befall something so wonderful 

but just… taking it all in— something he'd never thought he'd have in any lifetime, and yet here you are. giving, giving, giving�� his generous heart.

he walked to your side of the bed, pressed kisses to your forehead as you slept. you’d stir awake to him brushing your hair out of your eyes, feeling your cheekbones with the pad of his thumb. eyes soft and teary like melting lava. you yawn, catching his wrist with your fingers. “you okay? is something wrong?”  he smiles, shakes his head. “no. everything’s perfect.” 

he hovers over the boys constantly. quick to pick one up when he stirs.

"hello, little one, shh..." he murmurs. his voice breaks at the volume, unused to being so careful before. but he is trying. he will try everyday. "papa is here. papa's got you."

cant help but poke on their cheeks as they sleep, or ruffle their hair with his finger (they're so small, he can't believe it)

the first twin to grab his finger and hold on is kyros, and sylus needed several minutes to compose himself 

when one or both cries, sylus is always the first to respond. he checks diapers, gas and if it’s hunger, he wakes you gently (he's master of the night shift atp)

tummy time was difficult for him in the start, fearing the baby wouldn’t like it, that he’d run too warm or he accidentally shifts them the wrong way. but once he starts, it becomes his favorite pastime.

he hums to them, sings to them, reads to them. theres always at least one strapped to his chest as he goes about his day in the base.

when they get a little older and they can roll over on their bellies, sylus spends hours on his belly too, studying their faces and expressions. his sole purpose is to make them react. peek-a-boo is a favorite.

when lucian starts to babble (kyros will follow soon after) sylus is over the moon. he loves talking back to them. 

“ahh-ah. ooo-ea-ea.” kyros coos, pulling his legs up and down as if bouncing. “i understand, but mephisto is made of metal.” sylus says, chin resting on the nest his forearms had formed on the edge of the bassinets. “ah a wi wi waaaghu” lucian counters. “i didn’t see it that way. maybe i will try to change his synthetic fibers.” sylus nods. “ji ji aah! ah!” kyros. “and pre-record wheels on the bus, yes.” 

sylus 🤝🏻 nursery rhymes (he sings them in the shower??)

you and sylus both love watching them discover each other— like, they’d just forget the other exists for a while until they glance beside them and see their faces staring back. the giggles, the smiles, the eventual spit up— magical

the big twins (kieran and luke) sob when they realize their names are inspired by their own 

"Luke, hold Kyros's neck steady," you advise as you hand him the baby. Luke sits excitedly on the couch, arms out, nodding enthusiastically. it was an amusing little position he was in— he'd cocooned himself between all the throwpillows in the living room and looked like a bird in his nest. "Yes, got it." he says. he's done his research. he and Kieran practiced on cantaloupes while you were away. "Cradle the baby to support his hips and back." Kieran quotes from the LinkiHow, sitting on the other side of the couch, also cocooned in all the pillows. Sylus gave them tired but fond looks. "This is Lucian." Sylus says, placing his son carefully in Kieran's awaiting arms. It takes a minute, but you can always count on them to make a connection. Luke says it jokingly, "Hey, boss man, they both have our initials." You smile unironically. "Do you like it?" Kieran freezes, getting the implication almost immediately. "What?" It snaps into Luke a second later. "What?!" It's very difficult to cry with newborns in their arms. Good thing the pillows minimized the trembling.

never lets you and sylus hear the end of it

"When Lucian climbs on my shoulders, we're a giant robot called Lu-lu." Kieran snorts. "Lemon?" "Can you shut up for once in your life?"

"Boss man, how's mini me?" "Boss hunter, can we borrow the little twins? Namesakes have to bond." and the famous "Hey, dad," one too many times to Sylus. (sylus never corrects them)

steals them away when they’re able to sit up on their own, stays within the base, but at the sight of the masks, the little twins are sent into fits of happy wiggles 

kieran and luke are first to experience the two playing more intricate pretend scenarios (they're big influences)

the little twins’ first prank is to doodle on sylus’s face (sylus was awake, giggling even, but the little twins were 100% sure they got away with it. big twins supervised.)

Lucian the blinding flash of lightning 

pronounced: loo・see・yan

also called “Cian” (see-yan) 

also known as: angel (mama & papa), little boss (big twins), JAWS (kieran when lucian bit him the first time), little dragon (papa) 

has bright, carmine eyes, forever shining with mischief

socialized very early when he refused to be apart from mama or papa 

first word is “mama”. sylus was very excited for you (“papa” followed soon after)

"Say papa." Sylus coaxes, bouncing Lucian on his knee. His boy's bright eyes focused on his mouth, as he made popping noises to emphasize the p's. "P-p-aaa. Papa." Lucian followed the movements with a gummy little smile. But no sound emerged from his mouth. Sylus did everything in his power to make him vocalize, but Lucian's will was stronger than his father's charm. And then you came. Kyros had just gone down for his second nap, and you plop down beside Sylus and Lucian. "It's mama." Sylus points out. And with his full chest, proud and loud, Lucian booms. "Mama!" You scream. Sylus is speechless for a moment but cheers nonetheless. Showers Lucian with kisses and praise. Maybe Kyros will get his p's right.

always strapped on someone’s chest or back in his early days, wriggling in the carrier and testing the bounce

kieran and luke’s test gerbil— uh, sorry, play buddy 

Lucian, having been exposed more to people and positive reinforcement, was quick to gain confidence to try things without fear or even consciousness of failure 

so he flips over first, sits up first, crawls first, has his first steps first and is running by the time kyros can put one foot before the other without support

but he has more little scrapes and bruises from being so active 

loves mama! loves loves loves mama. mama gives him kissies and sweeties. and mama says “yay! Lucian!” in the most beautiful voice 

loves papa too. is a little intimidated by him— only because papa is the first to see his mistakes when he tumbles and falls. papa makes that “tsss” noise when he picks him up. 

but then papa gives warm hugs. and his hair is soft. and papa is tall, and lucian likes sitting on his shoulders. 

lucian loves the sky. you'd "sun" them often when they were little, just sit outside in the shade for the warmth and the nutrients. it was lucian's favorite thing, having developed a Pavlovian response to the words "sun time!" before he even knew what they meant— he'd be wriggling already.

lucian thinks kyros is a little mouse. he adores kyros, always cheers him on like everyone does for him— “ya! go keewo!” 

but kyros looks so small (theyre the same size) 

and lucian is overcome with the responsibility of protecting his brother 

lucian loves hugging kyros (coined the term "squeezy-squeezes"), learning from everyone around him how to treat his brother

sometimes can get a little too rough

made kyros cry once— he cried harder. 

The twins have been in their little playpen for a while, throwing stuffed-balls that jingle at each other as a game of catch. Kyros catches with your help, his back against your belly. Your arms like wings maneuver his to catch the ball in a gentle clap. "Cat!" Lucian says. He's already mastered the act of throwing down to a tee. But somehow a heavier rubber ball had rolled into their soft ball pile, and he'd chucked it at Kyros's nose. "Oh!" you startle first, bending down to see Kyros's face already puckered up in a silent sob. "Oh, darling." Sylus is already at the door at the sound, taking in the scene before him. Your worried fussing, Kyros's reddening nose and... A wailing, louder than the offended's fills the room. Terror-stricken and horrified, Lucian empties his little lungs at the image of his brother sobbing because of him. "Lucian." Sylus sighs, picking him up and rocking him side to side. Mama and papa danced side to side, soothing, as they sang a painful little harmony for them for a while.

absorbs how you and sylus interact. 

⟢ places both palms on papa’s face to look in his eyes — "papa, shmeeties." (sweeties) ⟢ presses his nose to papa’s cheek when he's in his arms and papa is talking to someone else ⟢brushes your hair back from your eyes when you're telling him, "lucian, no more sweeties, okay?" ⟢ kisses your forehead the most ⟢ pokes papa’s lips when he’s idling or reading

likes sweeties (candies, cakes, ice creams, u name it)

loves to climb! loves going up, up high! 

needs that vestibular input when he teeters on the edge of something (effectively giving sylus daily heart attacks)

does not like hats :( 

drags kyros by the hand everywhere (kyros does this too! learns it from lucian)— one time when kyros couldnt quite walk yet, you find lucian dragging him face-planted across the floor. kyros kinda just went with it

started the trend of running up to you or sylus when you get home from missions and throwing himself in your arms

sensitive. doesnt like being scolded but understands to an extent why. sylus is good at explaining discipline to his toddlers.

“papa doesn’t want you to get hurt. so I'm saying it in a strong voice so you listen and remember,” sylus explains firmly. “love lucian? papa?” he asks, snot and tears running down his blotchy red cheeks. sylus softens, huffing the through his nose and wiping his son's tears away with his thumbs. “of course i love you, angel. just, please stop sliding down the bannister.”  oh, sylus is so very tired.

sleeps with his limbs strewn about

sylus is always hit in the eye when they nap together

Kyros the gentle rumble of thunder

pronounced: kee・ ros

also called “kyro” ("kee-ro" as Lucian so lovingly puts it, unable to get that s sound just yet)

also known as: angel (mama & papa), little boss (big twins), KYYYYROSSS (luke, when they lift him over their head like a presentation to the gods), and turtle (papa)

his eyes are a darker shade of red, like a stormy sea of blood. and so his little baby stares are extra O.O when he’s watching everyone around him

kyros was sickly during his first few months, which led to him being a little less socialized compared to his brother

sylus was very doting on kyros, worried immensely, didnt know a wink of sleep for the first three months of thunderous little coughs rattling such a small, fragile body 

he held him more, gave him the medicine, took shifts with you when you forced him to get rest

but kyros pulled through. he’s healthy by the time the third month rolls in, and so he starts rolling, too

kyros watches lucian do his firsts and copies. less trial, less error— the little owl he is

his babbles were quieter, and so you whisper to him hushed words of affirmation 

"ehh? egh ah!" kyros coos, eyes locked onto yours as if actually making conversation at 4 months. "yes, angel, you’re very handsome." you smile back, exaggerated nods, and a lilting voice. "ah-ooo, oo-eeh." "much muuuuch more than papa." you affirm. and suddenly sylus is right behind you. "hm? sorry?"

he does get his p's right!! but first word is “pito” (mephisto -> phisto -> pisto -> ⊹ ࣪ ˖ pito ⊹ ࣪ ˖), his baby monitor

loves papa. oh, sylus really did a number on him by sticking with him during those sick months. now he’s formed an attachment.

most comfortable with papa. likes being held by him, snuggles his messy little hair in the crook of sylus’s neck, mouths gummy little kisses on sylus’s cheeks.

had a phase where he relayed all his thoughts in a whisper to papa. sylus would broadcast it for everyone else to hear. he'd nod in approval with a little "mhm."

loves mama too, of course. loves mama’s voice. mama’s scent. he almost always falls asleep in your presence. never, ever fussy with you. 

has developed very particular sensory needs— preferring deep pressure hugs, dimmer lighting, and more gentle, quieter sounds

he works through most issues, but in his toddler stage, he’s easily spooked and startled— cries often when he is

loves lucian! lucian is eternally amusing to him. his favorite slapstick. lucian, his walking chatty clone— tumbling over and startling him and making him giggle. he loves Lucian.

lucian's hugs! love that!

lucian's games! so fun!

lucian's attempts to string him along (even if he ends up waxing the floor with his forehead)! owwie, but yes!!

kyros feels his feelings deep and slow. disciplining him is like yelling at a baby duck with too-large eyes and a pouty little lip 

it's very hard to stay mad at him (sylus struggles the most)

“kyros? you understand why papa is mad, right?”  kyros doesnt move. doesn't even look at him. sylus swallows.  “kyros, papa is mad because…” kyros starts hiccuping, choking on silent tears. “papa mad.” sylus digs his nails into his palms. “papa... mad because you almost got hurt. got an ouchie.”  kyros nods. “Papa mad. ouchie.”  on second thought, sylus isnt that good at disciplining toddlers. "kyros, say you understand." "un'tad." kyros weeps. "okay." sylus grabs his baby and cradles him to his chest. he peppers kisses into his hair and holds him tight. “no more. all done.”  “all done.” kyros sobs. sylus has to hold his back too.

kyros likes the nighttime, the outdoors. when he was sick, sylus often stood on the balcony and talked to him about the stars. somehow that absorbed. 

kyros thrives in music. you discovered this, when he was fussy one day, and you were tired and aching, and decided to hum a tune into the crown of his head as you rocked him side to side 

he quieted instantly, and you realize the vibrations of your voice have resonated in his skull— effectively calming him by buzzing like a bee

aside from papa, lucian is his next pillar of support. he tends to grasp onto lucian's hand and tug on his shirt when he gets that little bit scared.

likes the kitchen. happy to be in a carrier as you or sylus cooks. he likes the scents and the chop-chop-chop sounds. 

likes hats :) 

the first to bap! lucian when they got into a little argument. big emotions overwhelmed him easily, so when lucian took the stuffie from his hands, his little fist came down on lucian's thigh— it didnt hurt, but they were both told off and both cried 

kyros clung to lucian all day after that — “sowwi, see-yan, sowwi.” ��

the big twins still navigate around kyros more cautiously, trying to learn his subtlety, but they get it eventually. kyros reminds them of themselves when they were much smaller, seeking comfort and a safe space. they do everything in their power to provide that for him (and lucian too) 

kyros asks with little words, speech at a slower & steadier rate of development 

"papa home?" "squash! more?" (uses the little more gesture) "pease?" "hug! hug!" "one, two cookie? pease?" (spams the more gesture again)

uses your and sylus’s pet names for each other to address you sometimes

“ma bub (my love), papple juice, pease?” to papa  “peepie (sweetie), up?” to mama “peepart (sweetheart), pease? pease, peepart?” “na-night dadin' (darling)!” to lucian

likes apple juice 🧃💕

is super mesmerized by mephisto, but still gets surprised at his movements— flinches when mephisto shakes, freezes up when mephisto stretches his wings— but is trying to be friends. likes the jingling windchime sound mephisto does when he shakes his feathers.

loves story books. he appreciates whoever reads to him, curling himself around whoever’s arm, chubby little cheek pressed to a bicep as half-lidded eyes follow fingers hovering over words (will eventually learn to read first)

sleeps in this little kitty loaf position, with his fists in his eyes and his body curled in this child’s pose/fetal position 

sylus has to right him in his sleep so he doesnt ache in the morning

ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ: if youve made it this far, i wish i could give you a big hug. thank you for reading all about the littles. they're full of life & love, and there will be stories where they bring that out of sylus, mama & the big twins too, and i hope you stick around for that <3 ❀-urs

✧˚ ⋆｡ read more with the little twins here | first little twin headcanon | author's pick: little twins & big twins fic | more sylus thoughts ✧˚ ⋆｡

feel free to send in messages/questions/drabble requests about them in my inbox, I'll be happy to gush about them some more hehe ( ⸝⸝•ᴗ•⸝⸝ )੭⁾⁾♡

dividers by @saradika-graphics

thank you for reading!

[lokissweater]

Hi!!! Hope your doing wonderfully 🫶I absolutely adore your work! And this is the first time in asking anything, but if you haven't yet can you do a shy guys x popular reader with a lil spice but no smut! I'd appreciate it 🥹 have a lovely day or night 🩷

YUUUMMYYY oh my goodness i spiced but i think i spiced too much and if i did i am SO SORRY IM JUST A FREAK!!! but i hope you enjoy this piece and thank you so much for sending in a request!! MWAHH <33

————————————————————————

∘˙○˚.• DON’T BE SHY ∘˙○˚.•

{pairings (separate): shy satoru gojo, megumi fushiguro, & yuji itadori x popular f!reader}

summary: how the boys are pathetically down bad for favorable you <3

warnings: college!au, mentions of drinking, HELLAAA sexual mentions and theming mdni, no smut but girl damn near it, pining af, cursing, aged up characters, afab!reader, pet names, they want you BAD in each of their stories HEHEHE, mentions of alcohol.

word count: 5.3k

authors note: WHO WANTS MLB!MEGUMI BC I SURE FUCKING DO!! HES COMING NEXT MY LOVES but here’s a little something to keep you fed in the meantime <33 I HOPE YOU GUYS LOVE IT! ILY!

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∘˙○˚. SATORU GOJO ∘˙○˚.

satoru wasn’t by any means a loner in college.

he had his own cute little group of friends and his own cute little outings and his own cute little interactions with his classmates, his rank on the popularity scale running somewhere around the middle (something he can thank his gorgeous eyes and gorgeous face for), but never even coming close to where you were at, a place many tried to reach but never had the qualities that you did— your place being at the top.

but satoru was too shy for his own good. too timid as he watched your breathtaking magnificent self walk down the halls and right by him in between classes— surrounded by people, you barely even noticing him, but him already memorizing the exact scent of your perfume you chose to wear that day, watching with love struck eyes and sweaty palms as his sickingly sweet obsession over you only grew by the years.

you were an absolute goddess in his eyes. you could never hurt him or be mean to him even if you tried, and it was a little pathetic how much he liked you— his little boyish crush that only shrunk him down to the mere size of a lady bug, his increased bashfulness when you’re around only doing him more harm than good as it started to affect his studies and sleep schedule.

but that wasn’t your fault, oh absolutely not.

it was his. all his. he wanted to take the blame for everything. he doesn’t care what.

even when you accidentally bumped into him at a party one night because you were a little tipsy, him stumbling over and you apologizing profusely as his heart stopped upon realizing it was you. and even when you accidentally dropped your red solo cup on his favorite blue washed jeans later on, your alcoholic beverage leaving a patch of wet on his thigh that made you apologize profusely to him again, satoru shaking his head and telling you repeatedly that it was his fault. he was in your way. he should be sorry.

you could dump an entire twenty five ounce bottle of smirnoff on his head and he’d still tell you he was to blame. that’s how much he liked you.

so as you gently took his hand and tugged him to stand up, you leading him through the crowd, your fingers interlaced with his? satoru went into a fucking frenzy.

his cheeks burned as you led him up the stairs and to the nearest bathroom, your lovely skin tight dress squeezing and hugging you in every right way in front of him that he internally panicked as he felt his dick stretch against his jeans, him wanting to end it all as he hoped you didn’t notice it and think he was a pervert.

“oh my god i’m so sorry—” you pulled him in and shut the door behind you, silencing what seemed like twenty different people calling out to you, for your attention, satoru swooning over the way you paid them no mind in return and focused entirely on him.

he felt so lucky.

he awkwardly sat himself at the edge of the tub as you crouched down and rummaged through the cupboard below the sink, your lips in a cute pout.

“i always get so stupid when i’m buzzed and i totally didn’t see you when i was walking…”

your tone was whiny and apologetic, and satoru’s heart physically could not take it.

“it’s— it’s okay..” he mumbled shyly, cheeks pink. “it was me i—” he averted his gaze once you turned to look at him. “i wasn’t paying attention…”

“but are you okay though?” your voice was immensely sweet and doting, it almost sounding like you were babying him as you walked over to him with a damp hand towel.

and he was all fucking over it.

he stiffly nodded and looked down at his lap, throat closing.

“i put a stain remover on this so i at least don’t leave a red mark on your jeans!” you smiled, an enchanting one at that as your clear lip gloss glistened under the dim light. “and i’m really sorry again! i hope i didn’t ruin the party for you…”

his eyes shot up and he shook his head frantically. “n—no! you didn’t it’s okay!” he tugged at the collar of his button up, feeling a little hot. “y—you did nothing wrong...”

you gleamed, and as satoru reached a trembling hand up for the towel to clean himself off, you pulled it back with a cute shake of your head.

“i’m doing it, silly! i’m the one who spilled it.”

“but!—”

you got down on your knees in front of him and his hands literally slapped over the edges of the tub as he gripped it tightly, his knuckles turning pure white as you calmly spread his legs and inserted yourself in between, your face fucking hovering over his dick and his cheeks turning even pinker as lewd thoughts dashed across his sick mind.

you noticed the look on his face and laughed.

“are you nervous? don’t be! i’m just gonna clean you up and ill be out of your way love.”

satoru didn’t want you out of his way, not ever. and the way you called him love had him already picturing you in a pretty white dress with a veil walking down the aisle to him.

he swallowed.

you had your arms resting over his thighs for support as you rubbed a circular tugging motion over the spot on his jeans, your eyebrows pinched in concentration as you tried to get the red stain out, your soft hair slipping from your shoulders and landing over his lap with satoru’s fingers itching to touch it.

“at the last party i threw, i also spilled a drink on a guy.” you giggled.

he felt a twinge of bubbling jealousy.

“did you—” he nervously looked at you. “did you also… help him?”

you smiled cutely. “nope! because he was making out with someone in the middle of my kitchen and he was in my way.”

thank god.

you huffed and leaned back to sit on your calves. “like— have some decency. i get you want to have a little kiss but if you’re doing it right where the vodka mix is? blocking it? i’m not helping you. your girl can help you.”

satoru giggled a little, and you folded the towel neatly and settled it beside you, proud of your work at removing the stain from his pants as you set your hands on your hips.

“and what about you?”

“me?” he mumbled.

“mhm!” you raised a silly brow and leaned closer to him, satoru inching backwards nervously at the proximity. “have you ever made out with someone like that?”

“well— well—”

satoru’s never kissed anyone.

“well what?”

he ran a slow embarrassed hand through his fluffy white hair and grimaced.

satoru is timid, shy, friendly, and a dork. but one thing he isn’t? is a liar. especially if it was you— even though all he wanted to do in life was impress you and have you not think he was a fucking loser.

“i’ve never uh—” he struggled. “kissed… someone.”

his words were so quiet and mumbly, completely ashamed of himself as his cheeks continued to glow pink.

but your eyes widened.

“what? you’ve never kissed anyone?”

he shook his head, eyes to his lap.

“but you’re so hot?”

satoru shot up. “h—huh?”

“yeah!” you grinned. “you are! have you ever had a girlfriend?”

he shook his head again.

“what?! how?!”

you placed a shocked hand over your mouth, your voice soft and astonished. “what a crime…”

he smiled shyly at your compliments, reduced to absolute putty in your hands at the moment as he couldn’t believe you thought he was even remotely attractive.

you confidently swung your arms up and threw them around his neck, and he froze.

your eyes were really suggestive, your gorgeous face looking up at him and his wide eyes looking down at you, your fingers gently running across the back of his neck and hair as he almost whimpered at what you were doing.

“wanna kiss me?”

“y-you?” he choked out, and you giggled softly.

“uh huh! o—only if you’re okay with it—” you pulled away a little, shoulders deflating. “i just figured—”

satoru noticed the way you started to lean back, your arms slipping from around his shoulders and his hands shot out then— grabbing your wrists as he pulled you back in and settled them around him.

was this real? actually? or was he just really drunk?

“yes!” he settled down a bit, sheepish. “yes i—i’m okay with it.”

you took in his eager bashful expression, and grinned.

“okay!”

you leaned and kissed his soft lips, pulling satoru in as his fingers shakily snaked over your waist and around you, not believing for a second that he was actually kissing you.

and you moved your lips slowly and delicately over his, trying to pry his mouth open more with your tongue and guide him on how to kiss you back, him diverting all of his focus to that as he tried to mimic your movements.

it started with innocent pecks at first, you trying to ease him into it and not make it overwhelming for him as you carefully amped up the difficulty little by little.

and he got the hang of it, fast, and you squeaked a noise of surprise when he suddenly shoved his long tongue in your mouth and slid his hands further down to your ass, squeezing as if he had every right to, completely forgetting that he technically didn’t.

what a greedy little thing… but you loved it.

he instantly pulled back.

“sorry i’m sorry!” he sputtered, pulling his hands to his chest like he’d just touched something scalding hot. “i don’t know why i—”

you giggled. “it’s okay! i liked it.”

“y—you did?”

“uh huh!” you nodded, leaning in seductively. “maybe you should do it again… and maybe underneath my dress, to get a better feel y’know?”

satoru couldn’t even respond as you latched your lips back on his, and he kissed you back desperately, wanting to impress you and do good for you so he could properly earn the right to feel you up like you had requested.

but he got greedier, and his hands were back on your ass squeezing and palming the fat of it, breathing heavily through his nose as he started to tug your dress up a little to feel your skin, the lace of your panties grazing his fingertips and making him fucking light headed.

his body was literally numb as you pulled apart suddenly, both of your lips swollen and red.

“wanna go to my room?”

∘˙○˚. MEGUMI FUSHIGURO ∘˙○˚.

“if i can’t do it i’m turning the car around.”

“megs you cannot do that when we get there though!”

megumi shook his head. “and why not?”

“because you’ll scare every one away! what the hell is ‘with this treasure i summon—‘“

“yeah so that way everyone will think i’m a freak and leave me the fuck alone!”

you and megumi have been best friends since middle school, carbon copies of tweedle dee and tweedle dum as your personalities matched with each other’s so identically yet so differently at the same time, that you both bickered every waking second you were together.

which was all of the time.

though you had a better reputation than megumi did. you were popular, beautiful, and everyone wanted to get to know you as your unique personality struck joyous chords with anyone that was lucky enough to come across and get to know you.

all things megumi would never admit out loud to your face.

and he was just regular— popularity and social statuses something he didn’t give a shit about as he kept to himself and didn’t speak to a single soul unless it was yours.

“but i thought you said you wanted to come with me!” you whined.

megumi huffed and made a sharp turn as he drove. “you dragged me i told you no i don’t like parties and you started crying—”

“okay and?” you grumbled. “what so now i can’t cry in front of you? i can’t show my emotions and use my right of freedom of speech?—”

“oh my god.” he dragged an exasperated hand down his cheek. “you’re putting words into my mouth—”

“and you’re putting knives into my heart with how much you hate me.”

he parked on the side of the street and turned off the ignition, hooking his keys on one of his belt loops before he gave you an annoyed look.

“am i not in the car.”

“you are.”

“and am i not here at this party with you.”

“you are.”

“so what more do you want.”

“a kiss.”

“fuck off—” megumi pressed his hand flat on the side of your head and nudged you away before stepping out of the car with pink cheeks, your laughter ringing through the air as you shut the door and ran to catch up with him.

“just be nice please. my friends sometimes wanna talk to you and you look like you’re plotting.”

“maybe it’s because i don’t wanna talk to them.” he mumbled.

through his hard exterior, you knew megumi was just shy, and often times had difficulty talking to people or expressing himself— you really being the only exception in his life.

that’s why in every social situation that you dragged him to, he clung to you like sticky stubborn gum and never left your side— you of course not minding at all and it actually making you feel better to have him always there, your thing being interlocked pinkies as you navigated.

“no it’s because you’re shy and that’s okay!—”

megumi scoffed and kept walking, but the minute you both walked across the lawn and up the steps of the porch, he turned around and let you in front of him— his pinky out like usual.

you smiled softly to yourself and looped yours with his, pinkies closing like a lock before you pulled him inside.

it was dark and humid as fuck already, and you tried your best to politely push through the crowd of hammered and sweaty people in search for the kitchen, you not realizing how megumi literally pushed and shoved people behind you so they wouldn’t topple you over, them too inebriated to care.

“y/n!”

“hi guys!” you gushed, your crowd of friends beaming at the sight of you and handing you drinks without you even having to ask, you passing one back to megumi smoothly.

you both mostly spent the night mingling and drinking with your friends, playing little games and giggling quietly whenever someone would ask megumi a question and he would just stammer in response, blushing and grumpy at your teasing once he got the interaction over with.

and at some point, half of your friends had gone to the main area to dance, and you turned to him.

“megs.”

“yes.”

“do you wanna dance with me?”

“fuck no.”

“whyyyy!” you whined, dropping your forehead on his shoulder.

“because i don’t like dancing.”

“no one’s gonna notice anyways! it’s dark over there like completely.” you looked at him. “just come with me please.”

“no.”

“i’ll give you a kissy.”

megumi gave you a deadpanned look. “what is it with you wanting to give me a kiss?”

you ignored his comment. “i’ll do anything.”

“nope.”

“fine.” you stood up and tugged your dress down. “i’m just gonna ask some other guy and maybe when i tell him he’ll get a kiss out of it he’ll do it—”

megumi quickly grabbed your wrist, eyes narrowed.

“are you actually?”

“yes.”

his heart dropped.

“you’re gonna pimp yourself out for a dance?”

“yes! you know i love to dance—”

megumi stood and grabbed your hand, dragging you to the dance floor as you cheered and happily skipped behind him.

upon arriving, he remained stiff, bored, and fucking nervous with flushed cheeks and crossed arms while you danced, gently swaying and moving to the beat as bright neon laser lights occasionally drifted across the crowd— illuminating red cheeks and sweaty bodies.

it really was incredibly dark, and megumi could barely even see you standing in front of him as the bass of the music drummed through his body.

he let you when you reached up and uncrossed his arms— instead wrapping them around your waist as you threw your arms around his neck, him swallowing thickly.

“dance megs.” you spoke gently in his ear. “like this just sway—”

you moved your hips a little more, and though he didn’t exactly copy you, he stiffly just kind of swayed with you.

“i hate dancing.”

you laughed. “do you hate me?”

“no.”

far from it actually.

“then this should be fuunnn! just let loose a little.”

“i am letting loose.” he grumbled.

“you feel like a little stick though.”

“a stick?!”

you giggled loudly, throwing your head back as you did, the sight making megumi melt.

“yes! i’m gonna start break dancing if you don’t.”

he gave you an incredulous look. “huh? you’re not serious.”

“that i am.”

“y/n i’m moving with you i’m dancing—”

“but your arms are just around my waist! you’re not even moving with me what are you talking about?!”

“what are you talking about?!”

you huffed and stopped moving. “i’m gonna dance with someone else—”

you let go of him and turned but megumi only pulled you back.

“no you’re not and you’re not kissing them either so don’t even think about it—”

“you can’t tell me what to do—”

you pushed at his chest with both of your hands, trying to get him to let go of your waist— his strong grip not letting you.

“why are you being such a brat?!” he exclaimed.

you broke free and started walking.

“a brat that’s gonna dance with someone else!—”

megumi flew and grabbed your shoulders, spinning you back around before literally smashing his lips to yours, your eyes widening in complete shock.

there was your kiss.

he pulled away. “s—sorry i—”

you shook your head and grabbed his cheeks, bringing his lips back in to yours as they moved sloppily and fast, almost matching with the music as his arms engulfed around your waist and pulled you in.

you swiped your tongue over his and whimpered, you figuring he couldn’t hear it over the music but being dead wrong as he felt the blood rush to his dick the minute he heard it.

you pulled away. “what are— what are we doing?”

his chest heaved as he looked at you, cheeks pinky like always and eyes blown wide. “i don’t— i don’t know—”

you wiped your wet mouth with the back of your hand. “do you wanna— stop? i—”

you didn’t know why you were asking, knowing damn well you didn’t want to stop.

“fuck no.”

“okay—”

and his mouth was back on yours, kissing you and running his hands up and down over your body in absolute need, you doing the same as you ran your hands over his chest and down, down, down…

“can i—” you spoke in between kisses. “i’m gonna—”

megumi did it for you and pressed your hand flat against his groin, you palming him slowly as he took in a sharp inhale and broke from your lips, his arms coming up to wrap around your shoulders with his cheek mushed up against the side of your head, eyes screwed shut at how good it felt.

you continued to palm him through his jeans, going a little firmer when you felt his breath literally tremble in your ear as he shook.

“shit—” his arms tightened around you. “wait—” pant “i’m gonna cum in my pants if you keep—”

“do it.”

“no!” he choked and his hips pressed into your palm, wanting more. “let’s go— to the car. the car please—”

you nodded and pulled back, but stopped.

“megs if we do this we can’t go back, okay?” your chest heaved, a little fidgety. “we can’t— we can’t go back to being just friends i don’t wanna be just friends—”

he shook his head and looped his pinky with yours, leading you through the crowd and speaking over his shoulder.

“we won’t.” he started.

“i don’t wanna be just friends anymore either.”

∘˙○˚. YUJI ITADORI ∘˙○˚.

being good at math had its perks.

yuji was able to get by in every math related class, never had an issue with studying, and even tutored some of his friends and classmates as a side job to pay for his college classes and tuition.

but the minute you approached him one day— you, one of the most popular girls on campus, president of your sorority, life long crush and the most gorgeous girl he had ever seen, asking if he was able to tutor you on wednesdays?

being good at math became a blessing and a curse.

yuji thought he was well off at math… but if he was to tutor you, he wanted to be fucking albert einstein at it so he didn’t look like a fucking idiot if he happened to come across a topic he didn’t know how to teach.

and as he sat on his desk chair in his dorm, textbooks and materials laid out and ready to go as he wiped his clammy hands on his pants for the thousandth fucking time, he heard you softly knock on his door.

oh fuck.

“hi yuji!” you greeted sweetly, him smiling back at you as he stepped to the side to let you in.

“hey! were you able to find my building okay?”

you both walked over to his desk and sat down, you right next to him on an extra chair— your perfume engulfing his senses and your pretty hair over your shoulders neatly.

“oh no i was fine!” you got your little notebook out with your pencil case. “one of my friends is dorming in this building too so i knew where it was.”

he nodded happily and politely, shitting it inside but doing a damn fucking good job at not showing it— though the reddening of his cheeks was something he couldn’t control no matter how hard he tried.

since you could only see him once a week, the duration of the tutoring sessions was a lot longer than the rest of his clients, and though yuji literally offered to tutor you for free whenever you wanted, you profusely denied and mentally decided to pay him double for his kindness.

you nervously fiddled with your fingers as he opened the textbook and flipped through the chapters you needed help with, and upon noticing, he frowned.

“sorry is it hot in here? i could open—”

“no! it’s okay!” you shook your head. “sorry i just— i’m really bad at math so i’m sorry if you can’t get anything through my head…”

you giggled nervously, and yuji just about cried.

“oh! don’t worry about that! that’s why i’m here to help.”

he beamed, his smile so big and bright that you found yourself copying his exact expression.

he was so nice.

“right!”

and he did help. yuji was exceptional at teaching, and concepts you had found hard to grasp before during class by your own professor was easy peasy with him, his bubbly and animated way of teaching you something that pulled you in and kept you engaged.

after two hours of tutoring, yuji sat back on his desk chair and exhaled.

“phew, let’s take a break! is that fine?”

“mhm!” you chirped, putting your pencil down and smiling. “you’re really good at teaching yuji, like really good.”

“oh thanks!” he blushed, giving you a cute little smile. “i— i like math so i just, teach y’know..”

you nodded. “what’s your major? is it something to do with that?”

“oh no—” he shook his head. “i’m majoring in finance so i get a lot of math classes.”

“huh?!” you gasped, completely astonished. “i thought your major had something to do with teaching i’ve— i’ve never understood math before until you… you’re brilliant!”

he gulped, your praises washing over him and making him feel tingly all over.

yuji gave you a wobbly shy smile. “t—thank you y/n!”

you grinned kindly, your pretty face making him want to word vomit how gorgeous he thought you were and maybe even sort of ask you to be his wife.

“do you um— are you thirsty? i have—”

he shot up clumsily and walked over to his mini fridge. “i have water? here—”

he didn’t even let you respond as he took a bottle of cool water and handed it to you, you taking it gratefully.

“i— i also have these!”

he reached in again and gave you a little glazed donut pastry, wrapped neatly in a clear bag that had the bakery’s logo on the front.

“oh no yuji it’s okay!” your eyebrows pinched together in worry. “i don’t wanna take what’s yours just the water is fine!”

he shook his head and closed the fridge, sitting back down on the chair next to you. “it’s all good! it’s your reward for hanging on for two hours of tutoring.”

his smile was so kind and sweet, and you bit your bottom lip as you softly thanked him.

“how’s um— how’s your sorority going?” yuji asked.

“my sorority?” you tilted your head to the side. “how’d you know i’m in a sorority?”

“oh! well—” he went completely fucking pink. “s—sorry you’re kind of popular so i just heard..”

you hummed and quickly nodded. “no it’s okay! i didn’t know people were talking about me like that.”

you laughed a little, and yuji thought you were so humble.

“it’s going great! it’s really kind of you to ask.” you crossed your legs and leaned an elbow on your knee, your chin coming down to rest on the palm of your hand. “it’s a little stressful to manage but i love my girls so, they definitely make it easier.”

yuji lit up. “that’s great! i’m glad it’s going well… i— i know i don’t know much about sororities and things like that but i have no doubt in my mind that you’re the most qualified and deserving of a position like that…”

your eyes softened, and your heart literally ached in the best way over his compliment.

“thank you yuji… seriously. you’re so nice!”

you giggled, and it made him gnaw at the inside of his cheek.

the tutoring session continued after that, and just when you had reached your final hour, you slumped over his desk and groaned softly.

“i’m sorry yuji… my motivation is running out.”

he laughed softly. “it’s okay! it happens. if you want we can stop here—”

“no!” you shot up. “i have to get through it i’ll be so mad at myself if i don’t.”

he looked at you, his eyes gentle. “you’re doing really great so far y/n.”

you blushed, “thank you…”

you stood suddenly and reached over to flip through the pages of the textbook, completely unaware of the way your boobs were practically shoved up his face as his breath hitched, hands tightening on the arms of his desk chair.

you really hadn’t noticed, you innocently wanting to just look and see how many chapters you had left to cover, but when you sat back down and quirked an eyebrow over yuji’s flushed face and blown out pupils… it clicked.

was he interested in you like you were with him?

maybe…

“i need motivation.” you sighed.

he cleared his throat and tried to regain his composure. “i can— i can give you another donut at the end?”

you giggled. “it’s okay! i have an idea.”

he tilted his head, curious. “what is it?”

“maybe we can do like a reward system!”

“a reward system?”

“yeah!” you nodded eagerly. “for every page we cover, i get a reward!”

he sat up and smiled, “oh right! i’ll give you a donut after each page then!”

but you shook your head, and he deflated. “no?”

“do you know about hickeys?”

he choked, eyes widening dramatically. “a—about— well, yeah, i do.”

“maybe that could be my reward! a hickey for every page.”

you smiled at him so fucking cutely, as if you didn’t just ask him for something so raunchy, and his throat literally dried up at your request.

holy fucking shit.

“you want—” he wiped his hands on his pants. “you want a hickey from— from me? really?”

“yeah! only if you’re okay with it, definitely not if you’re not.”

“no i—” his eyes darted from your neck to your face. “i am…”

holy. fucking. shit.

your tutoring session resumed, and yuji literally could not teach you a single damn thing anymore, knowing that by the end of this page he was going to do something that only took place in his dreams.

after a bit, he turned the page and shifted his body to face you, nervous and clammy.

you smiled sweetly and took his hands, yours soft and heavenly as you placed his on your shoulders.

“only if you’re okay with it.” you murmured again softly, tone nurturing as your pretty eyes looked into his.

“i— i am.”

“okay! whenever you’re ready.”

yuji breathed in shakily and out, gulping before coming closer to your gorgeous neck and planting his lips on it.

your hands came to rest on his thighs as he sucked— slowly and carefully, not wanting to suck too hard and accidentally hurt you as his tongue flicked over the spot, the pressure of his mouth making you shudder as he continued to suck and create a pretty purple bruise.

he pulled away when he was finished with a wet smack, his breathing heavy as he searched your face for any indication that he did well.

and you glowed, looking at your reflection on the little mirror that sat on his desk. “it’s so pretty! i love it!”

a hesitant smile spread across his face. “r—really? you can be honest i—”

you looked at him. “no it was amazing! it felt really good!”

his dick twitched.

“okay let’s keep going now!”

well the motivation definitely worked, and funnily enough, you both got through the next page a lot quicker than before, yuji almost immediately turning to face you after turning the page.

this time, he placed his hands on your waist as he sucked. and he sucked, harder and wetter than before as his fingers pressed into you— his tongue running over your new hickey and dragging over the previous one too before reluctantly pulling back, his dick a literal bolder at this point as you squeezed your thighs together, both of your chests panting.

you had barely reached a quarter of the next page when yuji set his pencil down and turned, his cheeks flushed and eyes wide.

“can i please just give you another one?”

you nodded quickly, eagerly, as you both stood and he latched back onto your neck, his arms around your entire body desperately, grazing his teeth against your sensitive flesh and full on making out with it as he messily sucked and ran his lips all over your neck this time, a moan slipping from you as he did that it made you slap a hand over your mouth in embarrassment.

“s—sorry—”

“don’t be don’t be—” he breathed quickly, walking backwards until the back of his legs hit the bed and he sat, pulling you with him and grabbing at your thighs for you to sit on his lap.

you listened, your neck littered with yuji’s hickeys as you subconsciously and softly grinded on his crotch, him groaning into your neck and biting down harder as your breath hitched.

yuji lost it at this point, all forms of moral out the fucking window as he dragged his long wet tongue from the side of your neck and up to your cheek, kissing and licking deviously at it as his hands squeezed hungrily over your plushy thighs.

he pulled back, eyes half lidded.

“can i—” pant “can i give you hickeys on your tits?”

————————————————————————

taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @hiraethwa

[wasyago]

Falls in, i would love to hear about this decked out/failed cave exploration au pls pls pls already i am Bewitched

hehehe [in tango's voice] sighh i suppose...

really im very tempted to just let it sit and not tell anything, because it's so fun seeing people theorize and point out details in the notes. but yeah i guess i shouldn't gatekeep it, its a fun au!

i do want to state in the beginning that it was a one-off thing and i have no plans on continuing it or drawing more for it. if you do tho? feel free! (not asking for fanart by any means, but giving the green light if anyone was wondering)

well

-------

Pet crew were a group of cave explorers. They're no experts by any means but they were no amateurs either! (ignore the fact that they're not wearing any PPE, i didn't want to draw it, ok--) And recently they've been excited about mapping out a new cave system they found, completely unexplored according to their research.

Tango, always a big lover of his plans and spreadsheets, presumably decided to go in alone ahead of time to sketch out at least a rough draft for a map, so they had an idea of what they're going to be dealing with.

But see, this cave is not an ordinary cave, no matter how pristine and untouched it looked. It is one gigantic organism of unknown origin, and a hunrgy one at that, the air inside it is filled with little cells or spores that, when inhaled enough, start taking over the body and corroding it to the cave's will. Killing the host in the process.

So, obviously, after spending some time in the cave by himself, Tango did get some cells in him. Not enough to be noticeable, but enough to give him a headstart on the corruption when the group went in for a proper dive some days later.

The first symptoms of undergoing the change are pretty standard: light fever, weakness, dizziness — easy to mistake for a flu.

Which is exactly what Tango did. Of course, going caving with a flu is not a smart thing to do either, but the group has been planning this trip for so long, delaying it even more because someone was slightly under the weather would've been foolish!

The cave started off with a big drop, requiring a rope to be set up, and then sprawled into a system of tunnels. Tango and Pearl were very excited to find an entrance to some ancient tombs a couple of hours into the dive. There were stairs leading even deeper underground, which turned out to be an entrance to a bigger cave system, with a huge frozen lake in the middle and an entrance to abandoned mines.

Further symptoms include skin turning pale, graying hair, eyes starting to shift color to red. Previous symptoms remain and intensify.

Tango had always been pale, he had blond hair too, and in the dark it was hard to notice the white streaks in them. The pink cheeks were easily passed as a result of being in the cold. Pearl did express some concerns about Tango's well-being when he started to fall back a bit, but he dismissed it as just him getting tired. By that point Pearl seemed to also have some "frost" in her hair.

After the hair have fully turned white, the tips start to switch color to an unnatural blue. Skin eventually loses color completely, turning gray. Fever intensifies as body desperately tries to fight the infection.

At that point it was impossible to deny that something was wrong with Tango. There are no mirrors underground though, so to him it was just his flu getting out of hand. Guilty of hiding his illness, yes, but nothing critical. The blue hair however were not normal, and the other two were freaking out a bit more than Tango would've hoped for.

They had an argument.

Etho snapped and hit Tango to beat some sense into his stupid head.

By that point Pearl was clearly looking bad too, and Etho's own hair were apparently turning white. They were all feeling terrible, physically and mentally. They decided to head home.

As previously stated, the cave is in fact alive and can sense when something that belongs to it is trying to escape. In an effort to stop it, the whole cave system comes to life. Old animal carcasses rise and start walking, small screeching creatures begin patrolling the tombs, the ice melts and the cave blooms in dangerous ways.

When the crew exited the mines into the second level of the cave system, it was apparent that the way back would be a lot harder. By that point Tango was struggling to stand and Etho had to drop his equipment to carry him. But the fever and the dizziness were making it hard to move fast, the changed layout of the cave was difficult to navigate even with their map, and the way to the surface was still very and very long. It was obvious they couldn't make it out....

Unless they were willing to make some sacrifices.

Etho isn't proud of his decision, but leaving Tango was their only option! He and Pearl still had a chance to escape if they moved quickly, but Tango was just too far gone, he couldn't-- Etho couldn't carry him to the exit, he was getting too tired, and if they all stuck together it would get all three of them killed! Was it not better for at least two of them to survive instead of-

They had another argument.

Pearl stubbornly insisted on taking Tango, so Etho had to lie to her and say that they will come back once they scout out the way. Etho couldn't force himself to look at Tango though, if he did he would be met with this knowing look and he just couldn't bear it. Tango cried when they were leaving.

After the body succumbs to the fever it stays dead for a short period of time, while the rest of the changes set in.

It took a miracle for both Etho and Pearl to reach the tombs, but the hard part came after. Etho did everything in his power to convince Pearl to leave with him, he said they will come back later when they're better prepared, he said it was too late to help Tango, he said it was Tango's own fault, he said many bad things, none of which were enough to change Pearl's mind. She turned back and Etho didn't follow her.

He ran through the tombs and the caves alone, losing his eye to a monster he saw all too late. It was painful and it was disorienting, Etho doesn't even remember how he got to the initial drop they went down, he was panicking and only moving forward because of adrenaline and instinct. The ascend was a fever dream, Etho doesn't know how he didn't fall to his death then.

Through the rush of blood in his head, Etho heard the faint sound of Tango's voice. Too cheery for his feverish condition, and much, much closer, a lot closer than the place they left him to die in. He did not hear Pearl. The sound stopped when it was right under him, and he felt a light tug on the rope he was hanging of. And nothing else happened...

Etho emerged from the cave into the cold night, stumbling over his own feet, too tired to run. Their van was parked over by the entrance and Gem was already waiting for him. Him — shaking, bloody and alone.

...

The body reanimates again, now obedient to the cave's will. It is no longer alive but it is not dead either, frozen, stalking through the tunnels in a mindless haze.

[foreid]

Can you write a fic about Josh dating Chris’s younger sister

࿁ 𑄹 ˙ — ❝𝑼𝑺𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻 !❞

ও ₊ summary: joining your step-brother on his 'ski trip' meant having to be extra sneaky with his best friend, whom you were romantically seeing behind his back.

be cautious: smut, p in v sex, fem!reader x bbsf!josh, sort of breeding kink, semi-plot, teasing, use of pet names, riding!!

wrds: 3.1k

a/n: im back on my joshy grind! anon u are so smartsies for this hehehe… i missed writing for this hunk of man, so i hope u guys enjoy !!!

because of the minor age gap between chris and you, it led to the introduction of his friend group. eventually meaning that sometimes you’d hang out with them without chris present.

hang out with one person in particular outside of everybody else. 

chris had announced to you that he’d be spending the week up at the ski lodge, he didn’t formarlly invite you, but his tone indicated that you should come.

you tried to act clueless about the plans, when in reality,  josh had told you about the trip almost week ahead of time. and you were already planning your outfits.

arriving at the lodge was new to you but it seemed to be familiar for chris and everyone else. 

you two seemed to be the last to arrive and chris was quick to blame it on your slow packing. 

when everyone was in their own personal rooms, unpacking and getting ready for whatever josh said he had planned for tonight. 

josh wasn’t one to hide his bias, which is why you got a room to yourself. mainly because he was one to sneak in mid–night to ‘surprise’ you and he didn’t want any cockblockers.

while unpacking, back turned towards the door of the room. it was a strange and hollow silence that fell through the lodge but it was comforting, everyone in their own niches, doing their own stuff. it felt nice. 

you didn’t hear anyone step into the room, because the feeling of rough hands snaking around your hands made you jump up a lot harder than expected, causing your heart to temporarily stop.

when you turned to meet the hands with a face, you glared at the familiar pair of green eyes met yours.

“shit, josh! you can’t just do that to a girl. scared the crap outta me.” you muttered the last sentence, resting your hands flat on the shirt beneath his flannel. the smile that was on his face was killer, immediately calming all of your nerves.

josh let a hand laze against the small of your back, the other one tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

it was an intimate act you were used to, meaning that he wanted to see more of your face which he liked so much.

“sorry. y’know i mean well.” he teased you, holding you flush against his chest, his face only an inch away from yours. 

you almost pushed yourself back, not trying to escape his grasp but keeping a respectable amount of space between you. “mm, door ‘s open, someone could see.” you muttered, staring over at the open grand door to your bedroom, holding your bottom lip between your teeth when you looked back up at him.

all he did was hum back in response, ducking his head down to latch his lips onto your neck, kissing the skin slowly. in a way that caused you to melt against him. you weren’t slow to respond, mewling between closed lips at the physical affection.

“j– josh…” you weakly protested, his hot lips on your skin making your entire body feel warm.

your reaction only made him move his lips up higher, biting your ear and inhaling your scent. “i’ve missed you, doll. don’t you miss me?” a warm whisper against its shell, his hands grabbing the fat of your hips in response. 

the way he spoke to you sent everything rushing right to your core, along with the idea that anyone could walk right past the open door and see what was going on.

his lips were like drugs, every time you two were alone together he couldn’t keep them or his hands off of you. you weren’t complaining, but right now, it was far too risky.

anyone could see. chris could see. and the first thing that he ever told josh when introducing you two was to not fuck you.

it’s safe to say josh went far beyond that boundary.

a sudden grab against the fatty tissue of your ass made you yelp, jumping up against him then staring at him with a familiar glare. 

he chuckled down at you shaking his head. “whoops. ‘m sorry, pretty thing. my hands, they got minds of their own.” he said as he placed an apologetic kiss on your jaw, simultaneously placing a quick slap against your ass cheek.

with that, he slipped away from you, walking out of the room with his hands behind his back and whistling some stupid tune like some cartoon character.

you just glared at his sexy back while he walked away. the way his arms filled up the flannel, how his forearms looked with the sleeves rolled up, and his messy hair shaping his face.

there was no way you were going to be able to keep your hands off of him for an entire week. 

 ╴⊹ꮺ˚

the night came quicker than expected. everyone seemed to be cozied up on the living room floor by a fire, watching some 2000s slasher film and playing twister.

you were contorted somewhere between emily and ashley, holding yourself up with the strength of your right arm, practically collapsing and ruining the entire tower.

after lying on your back and choking on laughter, someone mentioned playing drinking games and you were so in. 

‘never have i ever’ someone makes a statement, if you’ve done it, you drink.

at first, it was simple things like: “never have i ever blacked out” or “never have i ever shoplifted.”

until somewhere, everything got lost in translation.

it was emily’s turn to speak, running her finger around the rim of her solo cup. “okay, okay. never have i ever… fucked somewhere i wasn’t supposed to.” she was clearly drunk, but there was a quiet giggle behind the words she slurred against.

josh sat right across from you, staring right at you and no one else when he lifted the cup up to drink from it.

unfortunately, you did too, taking a small sip.

the only other people who did were jess and surprisingly… matt?

but for some reason, emily only questioned you. “well look at that, she isn’t a prude after all! share with the group, y/n.” she leaned in a bit, as if she wasn’t budging.

your lips were pursed into a tight line, shaking your head. but as you stared at her, you couldn’t ignore the green eyes that beared into the side of your face. “y’know… that’s a story for another day.” you weren’t at the state of drunkenness where you share all your personal business yet.

thank god.

“yeah, good. i don’t wanna know anything about that.” chris blurted out, shivering in a grossed out way. you totally forgot he was even sitting there, alongside ashley, who managed to giggle at every little thing he said. 

you shot him a stare, flipping him off but disguising it as if you were holding up your cup.

the game ended with jess and emily drinking the most. not a shocker if you were honest, but it was still funny seeing them escorted upstairs because they could hardly walk. 

you insisted on staying behind to clean up, denying help from anyone else. as the living room began to empty up, the trash bag was only filling up. 

looking outside to a pitch black forest sent a certain chill up your spine, you didn’t hesitate to walk over towards the large window, closing both curtains.

turning around on your heels, you were met by a familiar, broad and tall figure.

josh’s sudden presence earned him a squeal from you.

“fuck! i need to put a bell on you or something.” you said, craning your neck up to get a good look at him. poking whatever part of his chest was right in front of you.

he just responded with a chuckle, letting you push past him so you could finish cleaning up. “oh. i didn’t know you were into that kind of stuff, princess. i don’t mind trying it out.” he crossed his arms in front of his chest, taking in the way you walked. how your shorts rode up each time you bent down to grab something. 

somehow, in some fucking way, he was hard as hell. the way your hips swayed, how you were just pressed up against him, and the way your perfume teased his nostrils even if it was from a few feet away.

his erection dared to tent up against his pants, it’d been a long ass time since he’d fucked you, and the last time you guys did– a phone call from chris interrupted it. ruining the mood completely. 

so to say he had been craving you for a while would reach the brink of an understatement.

when you finished tidying everything up, you stared at the living room while standing beside him.

“good as new, yeah?” you chirped up at him, staring at him from where you stood, your fingers threatening to intertwine with his. he felt it, the space between you two being almost illegally small. he let out an exhale through his nose.

somewhere, deep down, you wanted to jump his bones so bad. but you thought you had to be mindful of the people around you. too scared of getting to caught up and being discovered mid-session.

josh gave the living room a good glance over, grabbing your hand and tugging you against his chest. he grabbed your hips, a familiar and warm feeling. 

“mmm… good as new, baby.” replying to your question with a charming and pantie-dropping grin that almost made you audibly moan out. without even letting you think, he was crashing his lips with yours, sliding a hand down the back of your bare thigh, grabbing at it and manuevering your entire leg to over against his side.

taken aback at first, you were somehow hypnotized, grabbing at his face and neck while kissing him back. lips bashing against each other in a familiar dance.

his tongue teased your lips for entrance, once allowed, he was completely attacking your mouth. he was hungry. free-hand grabbing at your ass while the other kept your leg stable by him from beneath your knee.

if he hadn’t been cradling you the way he was, you would’ve collapsed into putty on the ground. 

the once quiet living room was full of lip-smacking and harsh huffing the two of you created, it was overbearing, making you beyond dizzy.

at some point, josh rushed his lips to a spot where your neck met your shoulder, attacking the soft skin with his tongue and teeth. 

when you felt the formation of a bruise you tugged at the hair on his nape, signalling him to stop. “hey—! stop that…” you tried your best to protest, but he just kept kissing your neck so delicately, it made your lest few words fade out into a soft moan. 

at some point, biting your jaw and tugging at your bottom lip, he rutted his hips against yours. groaning against your lips. you could smell and taste the alcohol. “wanna fuck you… s’bad. miss you, miss you so much–” he was so drunk. maybe even more drunk just from kissing and rubbing all upon you.

it was all too much, you felt like the walls were closing in and as if the air was being bumped up at a thousand degrees. 

you wanted to be in some kind of control. fed up of being caged in against a wall.

pressing your lips against him in a softer and delicate kiss, you pushed your feet against him, shuffling throughout the living room until you reached a part of the sofa. you broke the kiss, earning a sound of discontent from josh.

which was quickly replaced by a soft ‘oh?’ when you pushed him down onto the couch, straddling on top of his manspread. 

reluctantly, your hands made their way to his shoulders, elbows lying on top of them. 

he grinned up at you, grabbing at your hips from beneath your shirt. the cold of his hands made you shiver. 

josh’s lips found yours again, kissing you sloppily and with more fever than before. his hands rode up, when he felt that you had no bra on, he let out a content-filled groan into your mouth.

the second he got his hands on your bare breasts, he rubbed both of your nipples within his thumbs, earning a soft mewl from you.

your back arched in place, body overwhelmed from the sudden pleasure after not feeling him against you like this for so long. you grabbed at his hair in the way you knew he liked, being unable to control the way your hips rutted against him.

the more you reacted, the more he played with your tits. a look of complete hunger and lust painted over his face as he watched you. “could make you come just from this. ‘s been a while, you think you could just sit on it, no prep?” he murmured against the skin on your neck, his fingers never ceasing on your buds. 

his voice rang through your ears, in all honesty, your mind was too blank to even fully understand what he said. all you did was reply meekly with a soft nod and a quiet moan.

josh flipped your shirt up, locking his lips around one of your nipples, his thumb flicking the other.

jaw slack and hips ruttening, you moaned out, unintentionally. it echoed through the bottom floor– causing the two of you to stop completely. 

josh’s eyes were locked on you now, wide and he looked as if he was trying not to laugh,

a hand slid its way to your face, his palm cupping right on top of your mouth.

“i’m gonna fuck you now, want y’to ride me. but you gotta be quiet,” his mouth moved against your ear while his free hand tugged your shorts down, you held yourself up so they could fall past your knees. “can you do that for me, baby?” a soft stripe against the shell of your ear as he felt you through your panties, grinning against your skin at how soaked you already were.

at some point in time, he freed himself, a hand hovered on the bottom of your bare ass, holding you up. “shit. sit on it, c’mon… need it bad.” he was on the pitch of a whine, but right against a gruttal groan.

you did just that, his command didn’t even need you to think twice, you were doing it the second he asked. 

as you sank down on it, just from the tip, it was like being cracked apart. you knew it had been a while, but you didn’t realize how long it had been until now.

he had bottomed out. all seven inches. you dared to scream out, his hand quickly rushed to your mouth, he looked at you, scolding you without words.

“gotta be quiet, baby. d’nt wanna get caught.” josh spoke to you breathlessly, letting you grow comfortable before he stared moving your hips for you.

you were moving, hard. eyes shut and jaw slack as he was hitting every spot inside of you. your hands were grabbing at his shirt for stability, everything was being thrown at you all at once.

it was when he started pushing his hips up against yours that you snapped. your rhythm met his as you completely forgot how to think. you lost control of the noises that slipped out of you, blabbing out things before thinking.

josh’s teeth sank into the exposed skin of your shoulder, hands grabbing onto the flesh on your ass. he gave up on trying to keep you quiet, the obscene noises of your wet cunt and skin slapping masking any moan you let out.

with every timed he thrusted up into you, a louder noise was pushed out of you. your hands lifted up majority of his shirt, nails managing to dig into the skin of his back as he fucked you.

josh’s words were on the line of incoherent. “missed t’s pussy so bad. tell me you’re mine, all mine, baby.” he slurred out in a low growl, grabbing at your skin in a way that would leave it marked up. 

the physical pleasure of being so full and stretched along with his words made you rut against him at a quicker pace.

it was when he started to match you that you lost all sight of your surroundings. the more he fucked you the quicker you lost all of your self control.

already clawing at him and yowling like a wild animal, there was no window open for self-respect any more.

legs trembling and mouth wide open, with every quick thrust you were closer and closer, the more he hit a specific spot, the closer you became.

“y– yes.. holy sh– shit, right there…!” you rode against him, trying to match his pace as you bit against his ear, riding towards your orgasm.

and it hit you hard. you came with a loud moan, body freezing up, and back arching so your chest was flushed against his. you swore you saw some kind of stars, vision spotting and brain melting out through your ears.

your eyes rolled into your skull but he kept fucking you.

the way your walls squeezed against his girth, he was biting on his bottom lip as he held you in place, using you to finish. 

his brows were knitted and furrowed, eyes low and dazed. “f– fuck, g’nna fill this pretty pussy up. ‘m bout to fill you up, get you so pregnant.” josh could only babble out, pussy drunk out of his damn mind.

with three more, hard and quick thrusts, he was spilling a thick and messy load deep inside of you with a low, bass moan.

sweat was pooling up against his forehead, hair sticking against it, bottom lip permanently stuck between his teeth.

you slumped down against his chest, resting your head against his shoulder.

he stayed inside, letting you lie there on top of him as he ran a hand along your head, placing a kiss against your forehead.

in a quick moment, you twitched, a sign that meant you fell asleep.

josh smiled against your hair, taking in your smell. 

usually, he’d clean you up then put you into bed and move to sleep in his own, but this time it felt different.

he felt, comfortable. like he wanted to be here just a bit longer and take you in.

fuck. he was in too deep. and no one was getting him out of this one.

what’d he get himself into?

[gyuswhore]

Grease (the tragedy)

“Careful, those marks on the floor aren’t just oil and paint.”

jeon wonwoo x reader

word count: 5.8k

warnings: smut [minors DNI], fluff, angst, mechanic!wonu, annoyances to lovers, blind date gone wrong but then gone right, kissing, clit stuff, oral (f. rec), thigh fucking (oop), this all happens at a desk LMAO, title is a what I thought was a funny spin on how people say "grease (the musical)"....has nothing to do with the musical though but lots to do with actual grease!!!

synopsis: In which you have to sit through one of the worst dates of your life, followed by the insistent tug of fate and compulsion that lead you straight back to where you'd sworn you'd never go.

[a/n]: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY WIFE CAMOTHY @highvern everyone go say happy birthday to cam or ill appear in your room at night 🔫 anygays HAVE FUN READING THIS I hope this is all the sexy wonu content you wanted, I cant wait for your reaction hehehhehe

and also bigbigbigbig thank you to jessifer @the-boy-meets-evil for proofing this for me!!! ily heh

and and to everyone reading this who is not cam, I hope you enjoy reading mechanic!wonu as much as I liked writing him heheh PLS REMEMBER TO REBLOG AND TELL ME UR THOTS it could be in the tags, replies, an ask literally anything!!!! id love to hear what you guys think!!!!

masterlist

 [You]: do you think he died on the way [Liv]: hes still not there??? [You]: what do you think????? [Liv]: let me ask Amelia [You]: dont bother [You]: he can show up whenever he wants im leaving in 5 [Liv]: you promised you’d sit thru this!! [You]: sit thru what? an empty seat across from me???

Liv doesn’t respond immediately, and you immediately know she’s buggered off to ask her cousin why your date still wasn’t here. 

It’s not like you couldn’t have asked him yourself, the sparse textbox sitting just under Liv’s contact. You open it to inspect the contents. 

[liv’s cousin’s something]: Amelia gave me your number [liv’s cousin’s something]: friday night at the sage&salt at 7  [liv’s cousin’s something]: is that okay [You]: uh hey [You]: yeah that’s fine

Today 7:20 PM

[You]: im here?

The first thread of texts were enough to make you feel like this was some cold business meeting instead of a date, knowing wherever this would lead would be either the city dump or off a cliff. Liv was hearing none of it, taking the guilt tripping route, saying she’d already committed and her cousin was irritating enough even without a scuffle.

So when Friday evening came around you’d pulled on the first dress your fingers could find, took all of ten minutes fighting with your makeup to make it look like you did something and left the house with zero expectations. 

Despite that, as you see a man walk into the establishment dressed like he’d gotten into a fight with a squid and a paper shredder, you feel the stone in your chest tank into the abyss. Zero expectations, and he’s somehow managed to strike out anyway. 

The jacket looks like he’s put it on as a weak cover for the grime stains on his shirt and trousers, a couple jet black splatters across the outfit to really pull the whole thing together. It’s not like he looked homeless or anything, his face surprisingly handsome with his hair pushed away from his forehead. Although he remains looking like he’d been playing football in some neighbourhood parking lot before remembering he had an adult appointment too. 

You’d never seen the man in your life, but your gut told you this was the shit texter who’d kept you waiting for nearly an hour. He seems to notice too, eyes locking from across the restaurant as the waitress leads him to your table. 

“Wonwoo,” you greet with a difficult smile, half sure it came out as a grimace. “Right?”

“Yeah,” he huffs as he practically slams back down on the chair, and you wonder for a moment how the legs didn’t give out. He says your name and you nod. “Sorry I’m late, I got a call in the parking lot.”

He’s been in the parking lot this entire time?!

It’s like you’ve been doused in gasoline and lit on fire, yet somehow needing to give him a shaky reply anyway. 

“O–oh, I see.”

The waitress saves you from spitting in his face when she asks if you were ready to order. 

Dinner was off the table, as you discussed with Liv who forwarded it to her cousin to her–whoever it was that set up this god awful date–and agreed on dessert and perhaps a drink. 

“I’ll have the chocolate cake,” you request in an attempt to make this somewhat better. You consider for a moment before asking for a drink as well, “And a dry gin martini, please.”

“Um,” he staggers as he barely skims the menu, ultimately flipping it closed. “I’ll have the same, I guess.”

Deep voice. You might’ve liked that if you weren’t already so peeved. 

The waitress disappears with the menus, leaving you two alone for the first time. 

“So,” you start with an exhale. “How do you know Amelia?”

“Her husband.”

“I see.”

Silence. 

“How do you know her husband?”

He sighs like this is all inconveniencing him, and it irks you to an irrespective degree. Like you wanted to be here either. 

“He brings his car to the workshop alot, became friends somewhere along the line.”

“Workshop?”

He looks a little startled, cocking his head to the side. “I’m a mechanic? Did Olivia–was it–not tell you?”

“No, she didn’t.”

It’s silent yet again as the man across from you refuses to elaborate. You curse as you ask him a follow up question. If there was anything you hated more than shouldering a dead conversation, it was sitting through an awkward silence. 

One hour. You’d sit through this for one more hour and then you’d leave. 

“What kind of cars do you work on?”

“Expensive ones,” he answers. You might’ve kicked yourself if he’d ended it at that, but he continues with a purse of his lips. “Ones that rich people abuse to an inch of the machine’s life and wonder why the dealership gives up on it. Vintage pieces too.”

“Have I heard of it?”

“The cars?”

“No, I mean,” you let out a breath. “Your workshop.”

“Jeon Motors, just a couple streets down actually.”

You did know what he was talking about, not expecting to recognise it through the empty question, passing by it on multiple occasions in this part of the city.

“Oh, I’ve seen it a few times.”

“Yeah, we’ve been there for a while.”

“Family business?”

“Uh–sort of.” 

“Okay,” you sigh in an irritated laugh. This was going to be a very difficult hour. “Keep that to yourself too.”

“Is there a problem?”

Just as you lift your eyes to lock with his, a ready yes, there is actually a problem on your tongue, there’s an intrusion. 

“Here are your chocolate cakes,” the waitress places the cakes down, and then the drinks. “And your dry gin martinis. Do you guys need anything else?” By the time the waitress is gone you’ve somewhat forced yourself to put that sudden surge of flames out, to a degree at least. 

“Okay,” he sighs, grabbing his glass and downing nearly half the contents. He emerges, wiping a bit of a spill from the corner of his mouth. “Let’s get this out of the way.”

“Hm?” He’s speaking to you with a very weird surge of intensity, and it confuses you.

“Neither of us wanna be here. You’re clearly trying to be hospitable but I’d really rather you not, especially when we’re both doing this to get our respective ticks off our hides.”

There isn’t much you can do but stare at him. 

“Have I misjudged your advances?” he asks over his glass, sharp eyes piercing. 

“No!” you yelp, reaching for your drink yourself, taking big sips only to emerge sputtering and heaving. 

Your date looks like he’s rising out of his chair when you raise a hand to stop him. 

“No,” you repeat, less jumpy this time. “I guess we could’ve cleared that out from before.”

Did he…snort?

“Sorry.” Dropping his chin to his chest, he composes himself. 

“What?” you ask, remaining annoyed as ever. 

“Nothing.”

That does it. You slam your now empty glass down on the table, slipping your fork out of the napkin a little forcefully, the metal glinting in the light of the restaurant. You dig into a corner of the cake and shove it in your mouth. 

If he was gonna be rude, you could be too. 

“I don’t know about hospitable.” You swallow. “But I assumed not being an ass was kind of an unwritten rule for any situation really. Including the ones you’d rather not be in.”

Wonwoo stares at you with a blank face, his cake untouched. “I’m being an ass. My laugh couldn’t have offended you that much.”

“So you did pick that up,” you comment. “With the way this conversation’s going I would’ve thought it flew right over your engine.”

“I’d argue your laugh was the least offensive thing you’ve done tonight.” You plunge your fork into your cake again. “But clearly we’re in different realms of etiquette.”

Your eyes meet the rough stains on his attire, and then his own that bore into yours like a challenge. The cake isn’t too sweet, rich just the right amount and texturally sound. Maybe something good did come out of this fiasco. 

“Okay fine,” he announces, sitting up straighter. “I apologise.”

“For laughing?”

“And for being obscenely late.”

“And?”

“And…” he genuinely looks like he’s struggling to figure it out, but catches your eyes flickering to his tattered and stained outfit. “And for my entirely inappropriate dressing sense. You’ll have to forgive me for that one, oil and grime are my spoils of war.”

“Wear it like a badge, mister mechanic, but perhaps somewhere it’s appreciated.” 

Wonwoo has already finished his drink, his cake remaining untouched. “You’re quite adamant on disliking me.”

“And you’re quite adamant on being a horrid conversationalist.”

The corners of his mouth lift the slightest bit. Opening his mouth to respond, you cut him off. “Cars don’t talk? Or perhaps, machines are easier to understand?”

“More like I don’t care to be personable.”

“That can’t be good for business.”

“The cars speak for themselves.”

He’s a weird one. Even more so when he offers to pay the entire bill, promising you he wasn’t lying when he said he was good at what he does, and to “make up for lost personality points.” You manage to pay your half anyway, considering the circumstances. 

“Can you at least let me drive you home?” Wonwoo asks as you both step out of the establishment soon after. 

“Depends.” You fix the strap of your bag. “Will it fall apart on the highway?”

The blaring white of the restaurant's outdoor lights backlight Wonwoo to make him look like some sad angel. He turns to you, the same slight smirk that seems to be plastered on his face. “Why don’t you find out?”

“What do you mean sell it? I got this thing a year ago!” 

There isn’t much you can do but sigh loudly as you listen to Olivia talk about the state of her car, the one that cost too much to justify but she seemed to use and abuse like a very replaceable toy truck. 

Leaning against the hood of the darn thing, you talk to her. “The dealership is giving you a shit deal to take it off your hands, you might as well try your luck.”

The look on her face is easy to read as she silences. Not convinced in the slightest, waiting for the conversation to end just so she could figure it out on her own. Sighing loudly, you look back to the dark beauty with a crate of issues that make it spit and sputter to a stop every few weeks. 

“How much did you say the repairs cost again?”

“Enough to put me on food stamps,” she whines through her frustration, tears pricking against her eyes as they glisten under the neighbourhood streetlights. “Why are you smirking like that?!”

“It’s just,” you pause as you consider your next words, pressing your lips together. “This is a little bit your fault.”

Lies, it was entirely her fault. 

Liv stares like you’ve just offended her, which you’re sure you have.

“Care to share how this possible bankruptcy could be my fault?"

“Because you drive the thing like you have a secret reserve buried somewhere in Tenerife.”

“My apologies for making a habit of not being a public nuisance and going forty on a national highway.”

“Your speed-o-metre is not the issue here.”

“Yes, of course, everything’s my fault.”

“Liv, please!” You groan loudly. “Just…let’s try putting up a listing tomorrow. Consider the prospects and you can decide from there.”

Sagging her shoulders and stretching her neck, Liv decides to simply trudge back indoors in silence. You take it as a begrudging yes, and follow her inside. 

That very night, when you were at the very cusp of falling into the dark space of sleep, your brain re-awakens before your eyes do. A jolt as the memory comes back to you of the many months ago, sitting in that restaurant across from a man who was too handsome for the personality he seemed to sire. 

“Expensive ones,” he had said. “Ones that rich people abuse to an inch of the machine’s life and wonder why the dealership gives up on it.”

How fitting. 

“Are you going to explain or should I explode instead?” 

You’d mentally prepared for the bombardment of accusations from Liv, her questioning perfectly right as you yourself cringed at the thought of showing your face here of all places. The one last one that’d officially banned her from ever setting you up with an individual of her choosing ever again. 

Hearing only silence as her answer, she appeals; “I thought he was the worst date of your life.”

“Nothing to do with his skills as a mechanic,” you mumble, refusing to make eye contact. 

“And everything to do with this being a horrible idea anyway!” Liv stares up at the sign on top of the garage. Jeon Motors. “What makes you think this guy can fix my car?”

What did make you think he could fix Liv’s car? If you’d known you might have given her an answer, but as you stare at the giant signboard that you’ve driven past for longer than you can remember, you can’t help but feel this place has been haunting you. Just a little. 

You can’t help but feel the tingle of goosebumps rise on your skin, the hairs across the expanse standing up at the thought of walking inside. There was no way you could differentiate the reaction from plain nerves or from the cringing drills that sound all the way outside the establishment. Regardless, you make an attempt to look confident as you make your strides into the pungent of the workshop. 

The first thing you note is how…clean everything is. Cleaner than any other workshop you’ve walked into anyway. 

The interior is bigger than it looks from the outside, the ginormous hall hosting about a dozen cars within your eyeshot alone. One side of the great hall holds an array of parked cars in different stages of dismantled and deconstructed, while the other side is lined with contraptions that look like stripped and enlarged elevators. 

Once you’ve inhaled a beyond recommended amount of smoke fumes and listened past all of the clanging, banging and sparks, you register the people that are elbow deep in the hoods of the vehicle they’re working on, enough to leave you and Liv standing at the entrance of an establishment that you can barely make sense of. 

“Can I help you?” A man in stained beige overalls approaches your wide eyed pair, face half covered in his baseball hat and hands occupied with a rag. 

To your slightest dismay, it isn’t the man you’re looking for.

“Uh– is Wonwoo here?” you ask. 

“He’s in a meeting right now. Are you a friend?” 

No, just a failed love interest.

“He,” you falter. If you weren’t a friend…then what were you? “He gave me his card.”

“Do you need help with your car?”

“Mine, actually,” Liv pipes. “It’s outside if you wanna take a look first.”

With one sweeping look across the warehouse, your eyes land on one of the few doors on the left. You register the plain look of it for barely a moment before joining Liv outside. 

By the time her car has been rolled and parked inside for a more thorough inspection, it’s taken you every last grain of your willpower to not stalk back out and wait in your car. For whatever reason, you can’t help but feel a very familiar spasm of irritation spark through you. Here you are, left anxiously waiting for the same man for a second time, merely feet away but remaining occupied with more important things. 

At the very least, the multiple hands prodding around the car’s engine were being somewhat of use, attempting to survey the same issues that had been looked at about a dozen times before. You silently promise to be a better person if this trip wouldn’t be for vain.  

“Am I late for something again?” 

Your throat is suddenly clogged as you open your mouth and no sound graces your presence. The face that meets you has his eyebrows raised as he stares at you in expectation, a ghost of a smile on his face. 

“W–Wonwoo, hi, um.” You clear your throat loudly, heat cursing your cheeks. “No, of course not.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure after…four months?” he asks, hands on his hips and his back straightened.

“I…my friend’s car needed to be looked at so…”

“Ah, of course!” He turns to where you’ve motioned, looking at the popped hood of the car his employees are working on. “I’ll take a look at it myself, don’t worry about it.”

He’s already walking away, towards the car and leaving you a ways away from the action. You stare at his back; the overalls tied at the waist and the stained white T-shirt that clings to his form from the humidity.

Wonwoo remains a man of a few words, and you remain at wits end about it all. 

A loud honk gives you something to do as you jump at the sound so up close, scrambling to move away from the smack centre as another car pulls into the garage. 

“Careful, those marks on the floor aren’t just oil and paint.” Wonwoo snickers from his place hunched over the hood as he cranes his neck to look at you. 

You walk over to where he is to get out of the way. “Was that meant to sound like an innuendo?”

“I was talking about the occasional running over someone’s foot,” he answers. “Not sure what you were thinking.” 

Ignoring the jab, you note that it was now only you and him crowding the car, “Where’s Olivia?”

“Went to look at spare parts.” You watch him as his gloved hands reach further into the enclave and yank at something hard. 

“So you can fix it?” 

“The car? It’ll take a couple days but it’s not really an issue.”

Furrowing your brows, you press on, “But the dealership—”

“Dealerships are the spawn of the devil,” he grunts as he finally wrenches out a spare nut or bolt or something that’s covered in oil. “Let me guess, they wanted her to sell it back to them?”

It’s your turn to raise your brows. “Yes. They tried fixing it, but it'd just stop again.”

“Because they’ve been fixing the symptoms.” He raises his eyes to meet yours, hands occupied with rubbing the part in his hands relatively clean with a rag. “They haven’t bothered to do anything about the actual problem.” 

“Because that’s gonna cost…?”

“Couple hundred, give or take,” he announces nonchalantly, turning his focus back to the engine. 

“But—” That’s it?

“Fifty extra for every question I have to answer after this.” You briefly wonder if Wonwoo’s eyes were always this piercing, boring into your soul like he didn’t need words to know what was going on with you. 

“Fine,” you huff, moving to drag a chair over, mostly just so you could have reason to break eye contact, and plop down as you watch him work. 

The more you think about it, the more you can find yourself unbothered by his strange behaviour. He wasn’t bleak, but nowhere near one of the more interesting people you’ve met. Taking the opportunity to really scan the man head to toe, you can’t say you find anything truly concrete to be this put off by him. 

Not much of a talker, but with the times you’ve prayed for a man that knew when to shut up sometimes, you wonder how much you can actually complain about this boon in particular. 

Besides, he was a looker, and you were completely content shutting your trap if it meant you got to shamelessly ogle at him from this close. 

“You know, this place looks bigger than it does from the outside.”

Wonwoo stares pointedly. 

You raise a shoulder in nonchalance, “Wasn’t a question!”

He simply huffs as he mumbles, “More length than breadth I suppose.”

“What are those things called?” you ask as you watch a sedan get lifted into the on some platform on the other end of the row. 

Glancing back, he answers, “Post lift, car lift, whatever you wanna call it.”

“What does it do?”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Touché.” 

Glancing back at him, you catch sight of his stained shirt once again. “Is that the same thing you wore to our date?”

Chin to chest, he registers what he’s wearing, hands still working on pulling bolts and boxes out of the hood. “Have about twenty of the same shirt, I can never be too sure.”

“You’re impossible.”

He smirks, “Touché.” 

You questioned if this was a mistake. 

Olivia could pick up her car herself, so why did you insist to be the one that did it? As you pay the taxi driver, you feel your ankles lock for a moment as you move to slip out of the cab. Frozen, you hear the driver ask you if everything was alright, to which your legs seem to work again, finally foot to gravel in front of the dreaded workshop.

The Jeon Motors sign blares the same as it always has in the afternoon light, glinting as it encourages you to walk in and do one of the stupider things you’ve done in life. Other than the ridiculous outfit you’ve put on, of course. 

But alas, as you hand over your slip to one of the many mechanics in the workshop, you find yourself praying he wasn’t here after all, that perhaps you could miss him as you leave and never have to see him again. 

Somebody yells out his name, and the dream drifts away like smoke. 

Finding the courage, you look up to where the man shouted for him, and immediately wish you hadn’t. 

Wonwoo remains in his overalls, the same ones that he had tied to his waist the last time you saw him. His undershirt however…

The tank top is revealing too much for you to pretend you don’t care, his hair remaining pushed back and away from his forehead as he walks over to you in what feels like slow motion. He takes the slip that he does not need, smiling at you as he says his hellos. 

“Car’s all fixed up, just need some papers that need signing and you’re all set.”

“Oh, but Liv isn’t here today.”

“That’s alright, you can sign them too,” he reassures, motioning for you to walk with him towards the car. “The car was alright in the test drives, revving hasn’t caused any problems either.”

He halts in front of the now (supposedly) fixed black sedan and pats the hood lightly, “If anything happens tell her to bring it straight here, although it shouldn’t have any more problems.”

“What’s your rate of return on customers?” you ask, a slight smirk on your face.

He thinks for a moment, “Pretty crap. But I guess that means I’m doing something right.”

You consider yourself something of a helicopter parent when it comes to your own car, but perhaps you’d change that if it meant you’d get to come here a little more often. 

Goodness, what’s gotten into you.

Wonwoo’s smiling too, and for a brief moment the silence is nearly awkward. A pause before he proposes leaving. 

“Shall we go to the office then?” 

Nodding eagerly, you trail behind him as he leads you towards the other end of the workshop, passing by even more cars in all their stripped or constructed glory. Glancing in front, you catch sight of Wonwoo’s back, ensnared for a moment before you snap your head away, reciting every curse word you know like a mantra. 

“It’s less hot in here too, keep the air on all the time.” Wonwoo stands in front of the plain doors, hands on the handle to wrench it open. You recognise it as the same door you had noted a few days ago. “Would you like anything? Coffee, tea?”

“Um, just water is fine, thanks.”

It’s quite plain, beige and leather against cream walls and unfittingly white lights. There’s a desk on one corner that’s beyond cluttered with more papers than you can register, pens and other office supplies mixed into the disorganised chaos of the large tabletop.

“Sorry about the mess, I can never find time to sort through it.” To your surprise, the light tinge of his cheeks suggest he might actually feel a little embarrassed. 

Cute. 

There’s cabinets that line on one of the far walls, and you watch him take his gloves off to open it and reach for a cup. The white porcelain emerges stained with an ashy grey as his fingers betray him. He looks flustered, glancing at his hands and back up to the cabinet. 

You can’t help but laugh a little, moving forward to help. “It’s alright, let me.”

“Sorry,” he apologised again, with a sheepish look on his face. “I’ll, um, wash this off.”

“Go on, I’m here,” you reassure as you move towards the water dispenser in the corner to fill your clean cup. 

He returns with significantly cleaner hands and apologises one last time. “Seems all I do around you is apologise.”

You have the good humour to chuckle, “So I’ve noticed.”

He does well to clear out most of the clutter that’s on his desk, leaving enough room to set down a few pieces of paper as you take a seat on the opposite side. 

As you scan through the papers, he attempts to make sober conversation. “You should…bring your car around for inspections if you want.”

“Oh? Even if I ask a million questions?”

“I can make an exception or two,” he grins. 

“And if you charge me double?”

“Might not charge you at all.”

“Might?” you question as you lift the pen he’d given you to sign the first space. 

“Might.”

“And what’re the conditions for that?” 

He doesn’t answer as he ponders and you fill in the second blank. “I’ll have to think about that.”

You snort before you can help it, your last signature coming out a little wonky as your hands shake. Turning the papers over to him, you continue, “Well then, let me know when you figure it out.”

He stares pointedly as he accepts the papers before dropping his eyes again, “Can I?”

“Hm?”

“Can I? Let you know?” 

It’s like you’ve been frozen over, the typewriter in your mind jamming as it punches out the implications of what he’s saying. 

“It seems, at least to me, that we may have gotten off on the wrong foot,” he continues. 

You hesitate. “I think so too.”

“I…I don’t want to put anything like pressure on you but–” 

“Would you like to try the new gelato place downtown this week?” you ask finally as you save him from his misery. “If…you’d like.”

He looks stunned for a moment before he’s scrambling, “Oh–of course! Yes, anytime is fine with me.”

“Great,” you smile, lifting from your seat. “It’s a date.”

“I’ll promise to wash my hands this time…and my shirt. And I won’t be late.” 

“Let’s not make promises we can’t keep,” you tease. 

You’re nearing the door as he follows behind, and just as you’re about to pull down on the handle, you hear him say your name. 

Turning around, almost too eagerly, you look up at him in expectation. He’s close, almost right behind you as he looks like he’s debating whether opening his mouth is a good idea. 

“Are you doing anything else today?” 

“Um,” you stutter for a moment. “I don’t have to drop off the car till later tonight, that’s all really.”

He swallows. “Do you wanna stay? Just a little while. We can stay in here, nobody comes in anyway.”

You aren’t entirely sure why you said yes, because you did actually have dinner plans with Liv later tonight, but the teeny tiny voice in your mind egged you on anyway. Besides, Liv wouldn’t mind, not if you were cancelling for this.

This entailed the very friendly contact of Wonwoo’s tongue in your mouth, and the extremely cordial way it seemed to caress your insides. If somebody asked you how it led to this, you don’t think you’d have an answer. Not that you care, especially when his hands are grabbing your waist and hips like that.

He’s already locked the door, reassuring you that nobody would find their boss and client in the smack dab middle of the devil’s tango. You take his word for it, relishing in the way his hot breath hits your skin below your ears, his mouth sucking under your earlobes as you whimper ever so quietly. 

Your hands are on his exposed biceps, feeling him up all to your heart's content. “Do you–Do you always wear stuff like this?”

He emerges, wet lipped and eyes trained. “So I wasn’t imagining it.”

“Imagining what?” you ask as you let him unbuckle your trousers.

“Please. Like you weren’t stripping me with your eyes.”

If you were warm before you, you're boiling up now. Were you being so obvious?

“It’s alright,” he reassures as you feel his fingers make contact with the crotch of your panties, pushing in to put pressure on your clit. “Wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t picked up on it.”

You feel his fingers push the dampening fabric away as his fingers make contact with your hole, coating his fingers in the arousal that’s made itself known. It’s hard to not hiss at the way he begins to circle it, thanking the universe that the loud noises of the workshop outside were masking whatever evidence of the heinous crime you were committing inside. 

Back against the couch in his office, you settle into the cushions once you feel him rub at your clit, one hand spreading your lips apart as he continues to massage your own wetness onto your throbbing cunt. 

When he retreats you almost cry out, but are smothered when he plunges two fingers into your hole instead, curling them almost immediately inside you. The consistent brush of the tips of his fingers on your walls are making it difficult to keep your eyes open, and absolutely impossible to keep your moans at bay. 

“Wonwoo, that’s so good, fuck.”

Through your closed eyes, you don’t note when Wonwoo gets on his knees. But you do feel him yank your trousers off entirely, and you definitely feel him place his wet mouth flush on your lower lips, sucking at your clit as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you mercilessly. 

That’s all it takes for your noises to become increasingly high pitched, hands buried in his beautiful hair as he continues to pleasure you beyond imagination. 

“I’m so close, keep going, please, it feels so–”

He somehow buries his face in deeper, sucking harder, licking faster, and it’s enough for you to finally feel yourself collapsing on the inside, your composure dissolving as you moan so loud you’re sure they can hear it outside, even through all the clanging and revs of cars. 

There’s no way for you to know how long you lay there slumped against the couch cushions, but when you hear Wonwoo speak to you in your ear, you answer. 

“Was that okay?”

“More than okay,” you say as you grab his face and pull his lips to yours, tasting the tang in his mouth from your arousal. “Do you have a condom?”

“I–fuck,” he thinks for a moment. “I don’t think I do.”

You try not to feel too disappointed, but you sigh into his mouth anyway. 

“Can I fuck your thighs?” you hear him ask, and you might have just orgasmed again, untouched. 

“Fuck, yes you can.” 

With a yelp, you feel yourself lifted off the couch as you wrap your arms around Wonwoo’s neck, letting him guide you to his desk. “Wonwoo!”

You hear a loud crash of the desk being stripped of all its inhabitants, and your back hitting the cool of the table top. 

Wonwoo unties the arms of his overalls around his waist, letting the legs pool to the floor before slipping his hard cock out of his boxers. 

You don’t see it as you feel him lock your knees together and lift both your calves to rest on one of his shoulders. But you do feel it as he pushes the head into the seam of your thighs, watching the indent as the pink of his dick appears before you through the skin of your thighs. 

Wonwoo’s face is contorted as he pulls back and pushes back through again, this time brushing against your still sensitive clit. You gasp at contact, and immediately feel him thrusting faster. 

“Wonwoo,” you grunt. “Lower.”

He obliges, pushing his dick lower so it can rub flush against your clit as he begins to roughen up his pace. 

You moan as you feel his free hand that isn’t holding your legs trail to the ends of your shirt, caressing over your stomach to pull it up and reveal your bra clad tits. He pushes his hands under the nearest cup and begins to grope you so wonderfully with his big, warm hands. Rolling the bud between his fingers, you can only grasp onto his wrists as a handheld to keep you down on earth. 

The desk beneath you is rattling with noise, the full drawers making themselves known as Wonwoo pounds into your thighs like he would die if he stopped, mouth coming in contact with whatever skin of your legs he could reach, his breath fanning the side of your knees. 

You’re close again, and you know he is too with the way his thrusts are beginning to grow sloppy. 

“There,” he pants. “Almost.”

You orgasm for the second time, the throb your clit beyond comprehension as the rough of his dick slides across your clit mercilessly. 

“Cum like this, Wonwoo please I need to see you cum.”

And he does, shooting the heft of his load to cover your already wet cunt and thighs, landing on your stomach as he continues to ride out his high between your legs. 

The back of your head hits the table as you take in gulps of air through the aftermath of it all. Wonwoo is putting his weight on the back of your thighs, holding onto the table for support. 

“Oh, Liv is never gonna let me live this down,” you pant, lolling your head to one side as you register him. 

He peers up at you through his hair, the stupid smirk on his face, “Do you care?”

You’re smiling a little too when you answer, “Not really.”

And then your legs are off his shoulders as he nestles between them instead, diving in to lift your head and kiss you. 

And you let him, although you wouldn’t really call it too much of a kiss—not when the both of you were smiling like idiots through the clash. 

[norrisainz33]

set up || ls18

☆ summary: esteban sets his good friend lance up on a blind date after a tough season

☆ pairing: lance stroll x nonfamous!reader

☆ fc & warnings: none

☆ requested: yes! thank you sm for your request 🫶🏻

masterlist

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

lance_stroll has made a post

liked by estebanocon, flavy.barla, astonmartinf1, ynuser, hugoboss, pierregasly and 654,234 others

lance_stroll: season finale on film 🎞️ hopefully next season holds more success for the team

view all comments

user1: we love you lancey

estebanocon: you’ll come back stronger next season💪🏻 [liked by lance_stroll]

user2: aesthetic fr

chloestroll: love you brother 🤍 [liked by lance_stroll]

user3: nowhere to go but up!!

flavy.barla: 💚 [liked by lance_stroll]

user5: hope you get some well deserved rest

astonmartinf1: we keep pushing! enjoy your break lance 🫶🏻 [liked by lance_stroll]

estebanocon has posted to his story

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yourbff: they’re so cute

estebanocon: and a mess but love them nonetheless 🤍

user1: obsessed with eo31 bf content

ynuser: heheh you can’t but you still do anyway. merci mon ami 🫶🏻

estebanocon: you are always welcome y/n/n

user2: is that the [insert uni] volleyball player y/n y/l/n? no way yall know her she went to my uni im?????

lance_stroll: who is flavy’s friend?

estebanocon: y/n! she’s flavy’s childhood best friend. why do you ask 👀🤭

lance_stroll: ah just curious.. she’s real pretty

estebanocon: oh curious are we?? im telling flavy

lance_stroll: no no that’s ok esteban i didn’t mean like that

estebanocon: too late!

user3: obsessed with their style tf

flavy.barla: my girl ❤️

estebanocon: guess who’s interested in your girl

flavy.barla: omg who

estebanocon: lance

flavy.barla: we’re setting them up whether they like it or not. i’ve seen the scripts - they’re perfect for each other

ynuser has posted to their story

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yourbff: OMG how did it go

ynuser: amazing actually… hate to admit it but they were right

yourbff: ahhhhhhh yayyy!!!!

yourteammate: begging to know WHO they set you up with

ynuser: would you believe me if i said it was an f1 driver?

yourteammate: no way?! which one!!!!!!!

ynuser: lance stroll 🤭

yourteammate: omg you’re winning he’s so handsome

flavy.barla: you love us 😘

ynuser: i do and you were right. he’s so sweet im actually obsessed

flavy.barla: music to my ears. we’re going on a double date tomorrow 🤍

ynuser: wait what?

flavy.barla: shhh don’t question it. lance has had a tough couple of months and esteban and i think you two are good for each other!! just roll with it 😘

ynuser: fine fine fine

lance_stroll: i had a great time with you tonight

ynuser: likewise! thank you for dinner

lance_stroll: no thanks needed! i’m really looking forward to seeing you tomorrow

ynuser: i’m looking forward to seeing you too 🥹

lance_stroll has posted to his story

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user4: oh so you’re on a date and it’s not with me….

chloestroll: ARE YOU OUT WITH THE GIRL YOU TOLD ME ABOUT

lance_stroll: yes!

chloestroll: jumping for joy!! can’t wait to meet her 🤍

lance_stroll: you’re going to love her chlo

astonmartinf1: enjoy lance💚

user5: this is unexpected…. a soft launch?

estebanocon: remember when you told me a blind date was a stupid idea and now you’ve seen her more in these past 2 weeks than i have and she’s literally staying at my house ????

lance_stroll: haha yes i do remember saying that and yes i do remember when you told me that you told me so

estebanocon: ok! i just had to make sure you didn’t forget

user8: crashing out that should be me

ynuser: oh these are cute 🤭

lance_stroll: i thought so too 😉

user6: MONTOYA POR FAVOR

ynuser has made a post 🔒

liked by yourbff, yourteammate, chloestroll, estebanocon, flavy.barla, lance_stroll and 214 others

ynuser: spent some time gallivanting around europe with 2 of my favorite people and a new friend. now onto my first season of professional volleyball with the las vegas thrill. see you all again on match day - it’s time to lock in 🫶🏻

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yourbff: cant wait to see your beautiful self back out there 🏐

ynuser: 🫶🏻😘🏐

flavy.barla: i miss you already

ynuser: i don’t think i’ve ever missed someone more

lance_stroll: good luck! can’t wait to see you again

ynuser: thank you lancey 🤭🤍

yourbff: this is certainly something 👀

yourteammate: clocking this 📝

yourteammate: yesssss my baby girl is coming home to me let’s gooo

ynuser: yes my love

estebanocon: you are always welcome at maison de ocon

ynuser: merci for being the best chauffeur and airbnb owner ever

vegasthrill: our girl 🤍

ynuser: 🤍🏐

lance_stroll has made a post

liked by astonmartinf1, yourbff, chloestroll, fernandoalo_official, ynuser, georgerussell63, and 352,935 others

lance_stroll: i think i might like vegas

[tagged: chloestroll, ynuser]

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user3: smiley lance im crying

chloestroll: you were right i do love her

lance_stroll: knew you would

ynuser: STOP I LOVE YOU CHLOE

chloestroll: run away with me ynuser

scottyjames31: hey hey hey let’s not do that

user8: he deserves this happiness fr

f1gossip: this was not on my bingo card i’ll be honest

ynuser: i like you in vegas that’s for sure

lance_stroll: well thank goodness because you’re going to be seeing a lot of me

estebanocon: disgustingly cute

lance_stroll: thanks man

vegasthrill: thanks for joining us! you are always welcome 🏐 [liked by lance_stroll]

user12: lance smiling and a hard launch before gta6

ynuser has made a post 🔒

liked by lance_stroll, yourteammate, vegasthrill, yourbff, flavy.barla, and 321 others

ynuser: with love from me and mine 🤍

p.s everyone say thank you eo and fb for this match made in heaven

view all comments

chloestroll: thank you esteban and flavy for bringing this ray of sunshine into my brothers life

scottyjames31: thank you esteban and flavy and y/n for making our lance so happy

flavy.barla: it’s the least we could do for our dear friends 🤍

ynuser: crying real tears rn

lance_stroll: 💚💚💚

estebanocon: two of my favorite people

ynuser: i screenshotted this for the next time you complain about me

estebanocon: of course you did

lance_stroll: look at my beautiful girl 😍

ynuser: i’m too busy looking at my handsome man 😍

lance_stroll: god i love you

ynuser: and i love you 🤍

yourbff: im throwing up. this is so cute its made me sick

ynuser: valid tbh

flavy.barla: remember lance_stroll she was mine first

lance_stroll: noted 🫡

yourteammate: dare i say you two are THE it couple

ynuser: babbyyyy 😭😭😭

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thanks for reading!! likes, feedback and reblogs appreciated. getting a lance request made me so happy

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[tgcg]

tell your loved ones

-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 12:01 --

TG: hey im on the john

JOHN: hey, dave is taking a dump.

TG: taking a shit just so were clear

JADE: jeez!!!!!!! even when im not online i have to hear about it

TG: i know you care so youre first to know

JOHN: i'm just giving you a heads up for the bajillion messages you will definitely have about this when you get home.

EB: god, thank you. that is awesome. dave fans everywhere are gonna go NUTS for this truth nugget.

EB: hey, i am at the store with jade!

TG: tell her the news

EB: i did as soon as you first pinged me, don't worry.

TG: hell yeah see you just fucking get it

JADE: well tell him i say congrats!

EB: she says congrats.

EB: also that you left your "yeah! woo!" machine at her place.

EB: and that you are gross and smell like a dog took a dump on a fart even when you aren't crapping during our conversations.

TG: goddamn

EB: jk that last bit was me heheh. but she nodded!

EB: so anyways, a yeah woo machine?

EB: what the hell even IS that?

JADE: its more or less a machine that yeahs and woos

TG: its basically a machine that yeahs and woos

EB: ok, yeah, that is pretty much exactly what jade said too. apparently this is supposed to be obvious.

JADE: its pretty self explanatory!

TG: pretty self explanatory stuff

TG: anyways im gonna tell karkat this time i think im ready for that

EB: oh shit (LOL), that's a pretty big deal, right? good luck dude.

--

-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] at 12:03 --

TG: ok karkat can i be unbelievably candid with you is dj crabapple ready for this

TG: this is a really big deal for me but like no pressure

CG: SHIT, IS EVERYTHING OK?

CG: DO I NEED TO COME OVER THERE.

TG: no no its good i just really need to confess something

CG: WHATEVER IT IS, TELL ME. I'M HERE.

TG: alright

TG: deep breath strider

--

TG: im dropping mad logs like bars in the ablution block vantas

TG: shit is on fire

TG: downright heretical like a shat outta hell

TG: and since im feeling penitent i figure our pesterlogs are pretty much akin to a confessional booth right

CG:

--

-- tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 12:04 --

TT: Hey Dave.

TT: Are you, by any chance, taking a shit right now?

TG: damn word spreads fast on the information superhighway

TT: Yes, I have had the news forwarded to me via this bountiful virtual dimension of knowledge and culture we call the World Wide Web by a fellow enthusiast, one ectoBiologist.

TT: Frankly I'm heartbroken you didn't come to me about it first.

TT: Please, divulge to your loving sister the nature of your bowel movements, in exhaustive detail. Highlights in a notarized list, an overall ranking grade of your experience, whether you would recommend it to your friends, et cetera. These would be among my most pertinent avenues of inquiry.

TG: you were next on the mailing list rose im already on it

TG: boutta weave a verbal tapestry no holds barred just for you about my rambunctious foray down in brown town

TG: stay tubed

TT: Thank god. I don't know what I would do if I couldn't peruse your commodal follies like the morning gazette.

TG: dont act like this has educational value rose

TG: we all know my daily bullshit has got a laugh track

TG: like damn what kind of gazettes are you getting

TT: The best kind, Dave. Only the best kind.

TG: thanks for the vote of confidence

TG: wait gimme a sec karkat pinged

TT: Of course. I understand it's quite a big deal for you.

--

CG: OK.

CG: SINCE THIS APPARENTLY SKIRTS THE FRESHEST BUDS OF OUR BRO-DOM'S BURGEONING FROND NUB, I *ALSO* HAVE SOMETHING IMPORTANT TO SHARE.

CG: I HOPE YOUR REFLECTIVE ABLUTION VAULT IS STOCKED WITH FUCKING RUMBLESPHERE TRANQUILIZERS, BECAUSE THIS EXCHANGE IS ABOUT TO GET SHITHIVE MAGGOTS.

CG: LISTEN CAREFULLY.

TG: whats up

--

CG: I AM ALSO ON THE LOAD GAPER RIGHT NOW.

TG: oh shiiit

CG: DON'T UNCLENCH YOUR EXPLOSIVE FUCKING SEED FLAP JUST YET, BECAUSE THERE'S *MORE*!

CG: I AM *ALSO* TAKING A CRAP.

TG: oh shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit

CG: OH SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT

[buckysgrace]

okay i have another thot thought for you bc i just. tmi storytime but ive been sick for a week and literally had to take a week off of work so i’ve just been watching tv and reading fanfic and GIRL (this is the tmi part) but ive been lowkey horny and reading really good smut obviously hasn’t been helping.

anyway! through that terrible horny experience with no end i was like wait fic idea and ngl your fics have been the ones that are FUCKING ME UP so who better to ask than you 😁

so the fic idea: sleepover with bestie!steve that she’s lowkey pining over and she goes to the bathroom to try and like relieve herself and be less worked up over him. it doesnt work and she just gets super frustrated and comes back out and steve obvi notices smth is wrong. well push comes to shove she tells him that she’s just really horny and it’s just not working (maybe they play truth or dare and he’s like “okay truth, why are you so pissy rn) and he’s like “i can help? we’re friends that’s not weird right?” and things just…go and eventually they’re fucking after like a whole ton of messing around. end of the story they’re like cheesy yeah i like you you’re the reason im horny DUH. yay happy ending!!!

okay that’s all :)

Thank you so much for this omg I feel so honored first of all hehehe. I'm sorry you've been sick though, and I hope you're feeling better! But this is fantastic, I looooooove this idea so much <3

CW: unprotected sex, slight dirty talk

"See," he groaned as he lifted his shirt up to his shoulder blades, exposing his mole covered skin to you, "I'm not crazy. There's a bug bite, isn't there?" He whined once again, still convinced that the picnic this afternoon had left him in bug bites.

"Where?" You asked with a sigh, scooting forward and holding onto his shirt against his skin. Your eyes drifted across the new freckles across his shoulder blades, then down towards his constellations of moles. He was covered in them in the best way, making you want to take your time to count every single one of them.

"Like up here," he said as he reached blindly, "I swear to God it itches so bad." You swatted at his hand as you huffed, trying to get him out of your way so you could look clearer.

"I don't see anything," you told him honestly, "I mean your skin is red from messing with it, but looks like just moles to me." You teased as you touched one, making him jerk forward.

"Great," he grumbled before he reached back, gripping his shirt and tugging it over his shoulders, "are you sure?" The paranoid tone he carried made you shake your head. He was too stubborn.

"Pretty positive," you nodded your head, "was there something underneath your shirt?" You tried instead, wondering if a strand of hair or a leaf had gotten caught there.

"No." He mumbled a second later as he shuffled his shirt between his fingertips, inspecting it closely.

"Do you want me to scratch your back?" you offered, grinning at the way he snorted, "I promise I won't knock any beauty spots off." You teased as you leaned forward, your chin brushing against his shoulder so you could look at him again. He cocked his eyebrows, an amused smile pulling onto his pink lips. You could feel the muscles in your stomach tightening, hating how easily he affected you.

"I appreciate it," he chuckled, tilting his head as you began to scratch as his skin, "there's really no bug bites?" He questioned again, hazel eyes glowing in warmth.

"Sorry, you're clear." You told him with a little shrug of your shoulders, sitting back as he faced you once again. You breathed in deeply twice, trying to keep yourself from admiring the thick hair that grew on his chest. You scooted back an inch for good measure, finding it harder and harder to be around him anymore.

The truth was you'd been on edge all day since you'd seen him. Swimming was a fun idea, but it always turned painful once he ripped his shirt off and stepped out into those tiny trunks that he liked to wear. That hugged his hips a little too snug for your taste. It was hard not to stare.

"Did you hear me?" He asked as he turned towards you again, eyebrows furrowing together as he caught you off guard. You blinked, trying not to count the colors that danced in his eyes.

"What?" You sputtered out a second later, bearing an apologetic smile as he sighed dramatically. He nudged you a second later, making you crinkle your nose.

"Do you want to order something? Pizza?" He suggested, sighing deeply like he was bored. You thought about it for a second, deciding that you didn't have much of an appetite. At least not for food.

"Sure," you nodded your head, "I think I'm going to shower while you do it." You stated as you crawled off of the bed, feeling a desperate need to seperate the two of you before you did something stupid.

"Now?" He questioned as he looked at you confused, furrowing his eyebrows together. You hated how handsome he still looked. And you desperately wished he'd put a shirt back on.

"Is that a problem?" You asked a second later, your question coming out more snippy than you meant for it to be.

"No, it was a question," he laughed as he held his hands up innocently, "what's got your panties in a twist?" He asked, making you shake your head.

"Ha, ha," you replied as you flicked his shoulder, making him wince, "you're hilarious. I'll be back." You told him quickly, realizing you liked the whine that left his mouth a lot more than you should.

You hated how worked up he got you, how he didn't mean to do it at all. You didn't get it, didn't understand where this sudden feeling had come from. And you didn't get how he didn't feel the same way.

Sometimes you really wished you could hate him.

A cool shower did nothing to soothe your thoughts of tracing his back with more than just your fingertips. You wanted to drag your lips in the same place your fingers had touched, wanted to count every mole and trace his fading freckles.

Your mind wandered to the same fantasy that you had been stuck on since you had gone skinny dipping a few weeks ago. It had been dark enough that you hadn't really seen anything, but the moonlight had kissed his skin just enough to give you a brief glimpse of the hair that decorated all of him.

Your fingers brushed against your clit, teasing yourself for just a moment before you slid them inside of yourself. The image of Steve doing that filled your mind, his long and nimble fingers massaging your walls as he coaxed you through your orgasm.

Only you never got that far, at least with yourself. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't give yourself any relief. And tonight was no different. Which left you even more frustrated.

You grumbled the whole time you dried yourself off and did a brief routine with your hair, borrowing different things of his to replace the things that you had left at home.

"You okay?" He asked as you returned, finding him down in the living room this time. You shrugged your shoulders, trying to appear as peppy as you could.

"Fine." You stated as you sat down on the opposite side of the couch, feeling like you couldn't handle being so close to him at the moment. Even though you desperately wanted to.

"Pizza should be here soon," he replied as he scooted a little closer, "did you sleep in the shower?" He hummed as he brushed his fingers against the nape of his neck, making goosebumps spread across your skin.

"No, I'm fine," you sighed deeply, "just hungry." You said as you shrugged your shoulders, finding that it was a better than telling him you were horny.

"I can set the movie up," he offered, "what are we watching again?" He asked as he leaned forward, pushing away things until he found the movie.

"Mhm, something Robin suggested." You couldn't remember as you watched the way his skin rode up his back, sure that your eye was twitching as you forced your hands underneath your thighs.

"And she's got great taste." He replied sarcastically, shaking his head as he worked on setting it up. You nodded, forcing yourself to look away so you wouldn't get caught drooling.

Pizza arrived not long later, though you had a hard time eating that too. You kept focusing on the way he spoke throughout the movie, asking questions that you didn't have the answer to. But you didn't mind. You enjoyed that about him, actually.

"Wanna play truth or dare?" You asked suddenly, holding your legs to your chest as you tried not to focus on the way he had strung his arm over your shoulders.

"Are we in middle school?" He asked as he peered at you curiously, acting like this wasn't something you guys did when you were looking for something to do. And you needed a distraction.

"I'm bored," you told him honestly, whining softly, "and it's not like you're into this movie either." You pointed out, watching the way he slowly shrugged his shoulders.

"Yeah, well I guess you have a point," he nodded his head in agreement, "alright, truth or dare?" He turned towards you this time, moving his hand away as you felt relief growing inside of you.

"Dare." You said quickly, watching the way he pursed his lips together. He always gave you something random to do, something to make you not think of the way his legs were touching yours.

"I dare you to lick your elbow." He stated as he rubbed his thumb across his chin, smiling in amusement.

"Funny." You told him as you shook your head, knowing there was no way to do that. He nudged his knee against yours once again.

"That's my dare." He told you seriously, hazel eyes twinkling in amusement. You loved all of his pretty colors and wished you could get a better look at them.

"I can't lick my elbow!" You protested as you shook your head, laughing at his suggestion. He grinned.

"You have to at least attempt it." He told you seriously, making you sigh deeply as you rolled your sleeves up on your arm. You stuck your tongue out, doing your best to attempt it but ultimately failing.

"Are you happy?" You asked him, feeling a little giddy at the way he laughed and clapped his hands. At least you were entertaining him.

"Please," he said with a grin, "alright, your turn." He rested his hand on his cheek this time, eyes remianing locked on your features.

"Truth or dare, Steven?" You questioned as you held your fingers together, trying to resist the urge to gaze into his eyes. He groaned at his full name, shaking his head before he answered.

"Dare." He replied confidently, saying the same thing he always did. He rarely picked truth, often leaving you to wonder why.

"I dare you to -," you paused as you looked around, trying to come up with something that you hadn't come up with before, "tie this cherry stem with your tongue." You shrugged at the way he laughed.

"Oh that's so easy." He said as he plucked it from your fingertips, wagging his eyebrows as he brought it up to his lips.

"Cocky, huh?" You watched the way he acknowledged your words before he plopped it into his mouth.

"Sometimes," he grinned boyishly, "but look at this." He stated a second later, wagging his eyebrows as he proudly stuck the tied stem out on his tongue.

"Looks a little lopsided." You responded playfully as he picked it up of fof his tongue, placing it on the plate before he wipe his hands across his pants.

"Don't be jealous," he teased right back, "truth or dare?" He asked, making you think for a moment.

"Oh," you sighed deeply, "truth I suppose." You said, not too keen on licking your arm again.

"What's got you all worked up?" he asked, "and you have to be honest. You can't lie about it." He said seriously, like he would know if you were lying or not. The annoying part was that he probably would.

"I'm tense," you said slowly, "I don't know, it's dumb." You shrugged dramatically, feeling a little embarrassed at your own problem.

"Tense about what?" He looked curious, maybe a little concerned as he tilted his head. You sighed, wishing that he would realize that he was the issue.

"I can't get off," you spit out finally, feeling like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders. Even if it was embarrassing, "like I'm horny, but I can't get there." You said slowly, wincing as the words came out.

"Oh." He looked at you surprised, eyes widening a little bit like he couldn't believe what you had just said. Sex wasn't brought up a lot between the two of you, surprsingly enough. You didn't want to know about his sex life and apparently he didn't want to know about yours either.

"Yeah," you mumbled, "you probably didn't want to know all about that." You said slowly, feeling a little bad for unloading that on him. You certainly could've lied.

"No, it's fine. I asked," he mumbled as he sat up a little bit, "maybe I can help." He suggested a second later, making you furrow your eyebrows together.

"Help?" you looked at him surprised, "what do you mean?" You questioned him, hands feeling numb against your waist.

"Yeah, I mean-," he paused, "you scratched my back, and now I can scratch yours." He gestured towards you, making your eyes widen several sizes. Your mouth suddenly felt dry as you tried to think, wondering how you had gotten here.

"I don't know." You said slowly, worried that your own feelings would ruin your friendship. You didn't want to lose him, especially over something so silly.

"I don't have to you know," he gestured down towards himself, then towards you, "I can just help you out." He stated as he brushed his palm across your knee, sending sparks through your body.

"You're a little pervert." You spit out nervously, giggling softly as you thought about it for another second. He grumbled as he pulled his hand away.

"Fine, forget I offered." He replied as he pulled his hand away, making you panic for a brief second. That's not what you wanted at all. Maybe it was a bad idea, but what was really the worst that could happen?

"What would you do?" You asked a second later, forcing your eyes to the side of the room so he couldn't see the embarrassment that lingered on your features. You didn't want him to know that you had thought about this, that you deeply wanted him.

"Whatever you want me to do." He offered as his fingertips fell against the side of your hips, spreading warmth through the inside of your body. You inhaled deeply, turning to meet his gaze.

His hazel eyes were soft and filled with adoration, his eyebrows relaxed gently on his pretty face. You briefly glanced over the moles on his skin, heart hammering as you gave your head a slow nod.

"This doesn't have to be weird." You told him quickly, hoping that he agreed with that.

"Not weird at all," he agreed as he nodded his head, "now can I help you?" He questioned with a little laugh, your pulse quickening against the side of your neck before you responded.

"Mhm," you hummed, trying to keep as casual as possible while he looped his fingertips through the band of your pajama pants, "I'd like that a lot." You mumbled a second later, finding some brief confidence as he began to tug your pants off of your legs.

He worked slowly, like he was carefully unwrapping his favorite gift. A boyish smile formed on his lips as he looked at the panties you wore, a soft snicker leaving his lips before he kissed the corner of your knee. The remark died on your lips as a spark traveled through your body, leaving behind an electric sensation.

His lips were soft and smooth against your skin, the kisses brief but sweet. Your heart hammered roughly inside your chest as he continued to kiss further and further up your thighs, leaving your clit to throb in anticipation.

"You smell nice," he mumbled as he stalled his kisses across your inner thigh, pressing his large fingertips into your skin to spread your knees apart, "but you're just as pretty too."

"You're cheesy, Steve Harrington." You told him, biting down on the grin that had appeared on your lips. He squeezed at your flesh, looking content.

"Yeah, but you love it." He remarked a little too cocky for your taste, even though he was right. You didn't get a chance to respond as he brushed his thumb across the wet spot on your panties, making all the air leave your lungs.

A little whine left your lips this time, heart hammering as he slowly dragged his thumb across your clothed clit. You sighed at the sensation, already feeling needy as you rocked your hips forward.

He hummed something underneath his breath, something you didn't catch as he slowly stripped you of your panties next. His eyes lit up in interest, filling with lust as he pressed his fingertips against your folds.

"Real pretty," he hummed, making your insides churn at the way he observed you. You were certain that he had never looked at you in such a way before, though now you knew that you needed more, "bet you taste even better." He added, nearly making you snort.

The feeling of his tongue dragging through your folds distracted you from everything else, made your body tremble as you pushed yourself up onto your elbows. You gaped as you watched him, noting the way his expression turned blissful like yours.

He moved his tongue skillfully along your folds, lapping at your pretty cunt as he continued to keep you spread open for him. You whined as the electricity pulsed at your clit, leaving you needy as your heart raced in your chest.

He groaned a second later, sinking down further in between your legs as he got himself comfortable. You sighed breathlessly as you tangled your hands through his hair, tugging softly as you rocked yourself up against his greedy mouth.

You'd never been with a man before that had acted so eager, so desperate to eat you out. Steve seemed to know just where to touch, where to lick and suck to make it harder and harder for you to breathe. Your thighs trembled from the feeling, your fingers gripping his hair tightly as you rocked yourself up against his mouth.

His pretty lips wrapped around your swollen clit, his tongue pressing slow but deep patterns against your sensitive bud. Your whines grew louder as you contued to rut against his sinful mouth, chasing the pleasure that was spreading through your body.

"Fuck," he groaned as he slowly pulled away, taking one last drag of your cunt as he peered up at you. A carnal feeling spread inside of you as you peered at his slick covered lips, his lustful eyes and messy hair. Suddenly you wanted more, needed him badly, "your pussy tastes so good, honey." He spit out, looking just as lecherous as you felt.

You pushed yourself up further then, knocking him back a bit as you messily began to tug his clothes off of him. You had a strong desire to kiss him, but couldn't quite bring yourself to do that yet. That would make it feel too real, would cross the boundaries that you weren't sure you were ready to get rid of.

His large hands pried away your shirt and bra, making you momentarily forget the way your hands were shaking as you drifted your fingers down his hairy chest. You thought every bit of him was perfect. The moles that were everywhere, the soft freckles on his shoulders and his odd tan lines. You loved all of it.

You found yourself lying on your back again as he pressed his way up against your thighs, his heavy cock falling against your soaked cunt. You looked down at him fascninated, wondering how good it would feel to have something that large inside of you.

"Wow," you breathed out, eyes widening as you took in the curve of his cock. He was longer than you were expected, his girth thick and his tip a soft pink. Your eyes traveled down the way he slightly curved to the right, straight down to the thick hair that decorated his skin, "can I?"

"Yeah," he nodded his head, his tone straining as you wrapped your fingers around his girth. You breathed in at the sensation, licking your bottom lip as you swiped your thumb across the precum that was leaking from the head of his cock, "fuck. That's nice." He complimented quickly, eyes growing hazy as he rocked his hips forward.

You slowly dragged your hand along the curve of his cock, enjoying the way he met your motions. His grunts were blissful, sweet enough to make your knees feel even weaker. You chewed on your bottom lip, your clit beginning to burn in anticipation once again as you spread your legs once again.

"Wanna feel you," you told him quickly, chewing on your bottom lip as you dragged his tip between your slick folds. You gaped at the sensation, feeling yourself reeling at the loud whine that left his lips, "wanna make you feel good." You nodded your head in encouragement, heart fluttering at the way he locked eyes with you again.

You admired the way his lips parted as you slid his thick tip inside your wet cunt, your breath stalling as you felt yourself stretching around his girth. You felt like you were floating for a moment, body pulsing in pleasure as he gripped the back of your thighs and began to sink into you.

Little gasps rolled off of his tongue as he brushed his hands across your skin, grunting softly as he buried his cock inside of you. Every inch made you croon, made your thighs tremble and shake.

"Jesus," he spit out raspily, eyebrows furrowing together in bliss as he bottomed out inside of you. His cock was pressed snuggly against your clamped walls, throbbing as you felt yourself leaking around him, "you feel so good, honey. Is this okay?" He hummed as he dropped his forehead near yours, his breath fanning over your face.

You leaned up to him as you nodded your head, a whiny moan breaking free as you slowly released your tight grip on his arms. You savored the feeling of him being so close, of the electric energy that was pulsing between the two of you.

Your eyes drifted across the lust that was swimming in his hazel eyes, the slight pink tint to his cheeks as he brought one of his hands up to your cheeks. Your mind felt foggy as he began to brush his thumb across your cheekbone, heart hammering at the dangerous look he sent you.

You felt like enough lines had been crossed and blurred as you moved your fingers through the hair that curled against the nape of his neck. You tuggged softly, bringing him down closer until your bottom lip grazed against his.

His lips were soft and smooth, sweet like bubblegum. Your body loosened up even more underneath him as you tugged him closer, savoring the gentle way he kissed you. No one had ever kissed you in such a way before, slow like he was savoring the shape of your mouth against his.

You tugged on his hair softly, a little whine vibrating across his lips as he rocked his hips forward. You moved your legs around his waist, crossing your ankles together to keep from shaking.

"Better than okay," you squeaked out, warmth spreading inside of you as his nose brushed against yours, "more. Need you to move, Steve." You demanded of him this time, sure that you might explode if he didn't start moving.

A lazy smile formed on his lips as he pressed a brief peck to your lips, his fingers tracing the curve of your mouth a second later. You felt the whine forming on the tip of your tongue before it died off, replaced by blissful moans as he slowly began to rut his hips forward.

Electricty shot up your body as you dug your fingertips deeper into his flesh, tugging him forward as you slowly rocked your hips up to meet his slow motions. He grunted as his fingers danced along your sides, massaging your skin as he sank in and out of your soaked cunt.

You moaned at the sensation of his cock dragging against your walls, spreading you apart each time he thrusted forward. You slid your hands down the curve of his back, savoring the feeling of his sweaty skin underneath your touch.

"You're so wet," he hissed a second later, tossing his head back as his eyes fluttered shut for a brief second. You moaned as you began to grind yourself up against him, chasing the way your cunt slid over the curve of his cock, "such a needy little thing." He teased, slowly opening his dark eyes as he peered down at you.

You couldn't think of any quick remarks as he continued to drag his cock in and our of your slick pussy. You were moving your hips forward just as desperately, the sound of your bodies meeting filling your ears like a filthy melody.

"More, please, please," you begged wantonly, feeling unstrained. Being this close wasn't enough, you needed more. Wanted more. The taste, smell and feel of him wasn't enough to satsify you, "please, Stevie. Give me more." You pleaded with him, flashing your eyelashes to earn a loud groan from him.

He snapped his hips forward harder, thrusting quicker and deeper as he gripped a hold of you tightly. You wrapped your arms around his back, his chest sliding against yours as you locked your ankles tightly around his waist.

"Fuck, fuck," he cursed as he dropped his head against yours once again, his voice straining as his fingertips dug into your skin this time. You whined at the sensation, body burning in pleasure as your cunt squeleched around his cock, "you feel so good, honey. So fucking good, baby." He praised, veins in his neck straining as he snapped his hips forward harder.

You whined uncontrollably as you felt the muscles in your stomach contracting, goosebumps spreading on your skin as your toes curled in awe. His cock was pressing against your deepest spots, making electricity spread through your spine.

"Steve, fuck," you cried out, fingertips aching from how harshly you were gripping him. His moans were just as desperate, mingling with yours as his thrusts became deeper and slower. Your body shook from the pleasure, mind growing hazy as your clit throbbed as your orgasm began to wash over you, "oh my God, yes! Oh God, Steve!" You squeaked as your high fell on top of you, crushing you like a harsh wave.

You momentarily couldn't breathe, your lungs swelling as your cunt clamped down around his thick girth. You shook underneath him, cumming intensely as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm.

"Oh fuck," he whined this time, making your insides feel like putty as you continued to tremble underneath him. Your clit was throbbing as the way he rutted into you, sloppy and deep, "you're so wet baby, so fucking soaked. That felt good, huh?" He rambled off, a hazy look in his eyes as he whined louder.

You leaned up to kiss at his neck, licking away the sweat that collected at his skin. You dragged your nails down his skin as he continued to whine, his cock throbbing inside of your soaked pussy.

He rutted into you twice, then one more time before he bottomed out against you. You could feel his balls against your skin, wet with your slick as he twitched inside of you. He groaned lowly, lips parting as he came inside of you. You moaned at the sudden feeling of his cum painting your walls, warm inside of you.

"M'sorry, m'sorry," he spit out, shaking as he fell flat against you. You savored the feeling of his body on top of yours, his weight feeling nice against you, "fuck. I should've grabbed a condom." He closed his eyes as he shook his head, cheek pressed against yours.

"It's alright," you told him breathlessly, nodding your head, "it felt good." You told him honestly, lazily bringing your hands up to brush his messy hair off of his forehead.

He moaned a second later, eyes flashing with want as he gazed down at you again. You cocked your eyebrows, feeling very comfortable despite everything that had just happened.

"You liked that, huh? Little pervert." You teased as you dragged your thumb across his sweaty forehead, enjoying the way his cheeks flushed from your words.

"Shut up." He mumbled as he groaned in embarassment, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. You smiled as you brushed your fingers through his hair, heart hammering softly as you savored the feeling of him against you. This had definitely been a good idea.

"You know," you paused for a moment, brushing your fingers across his skin gently, "you might be the reason I was so worked up." You admitted slowly, ignoring the way his head snapped up in your direction.

"Yeah?" He asked, looking amused as he rubbed his thumb across your cheek. You grumbled.

"Don't get too excited," you teased, biting at his thumb playfully, "maybe it was a one time thing." You added, earning a little laugh from him.

"I think about you a lot too," he hummed, pecking your lips softly, "glad we got that covered." He grinned as he pulled away, making your heart thump.

[xo2dee]

hey babes!! i looove your writing a lot and i was SO happy to see a fellow netflix dmc hater. i quite literally reread any one of your works every night before bed, it’s kind crack to me hehehe <3

is it cool if i request a dante x dense reader? one where he flirts with them but they just assume he’s just initiating some freaky friendly banter, and he’s lowk tweaking over how oblivious his crush his. feel free to be as creative or silly as you want with it, whatever you write will be awesome <3

PAIRING: Dante/Reader. WARNINGS: Dense!Reader. WORD COUNT: 1,887.

A/N: thank you for the request! aahsiodnfg the stray... but i had so much fun writing this and im glad you like my fics! i hope you enjoy this as well!

DMC MASTERLIST

If he was going to be completely honest with himself (and just himself… he was never going to tell you it), trying to get your attention to let you know that he saw you in a romantic sense and wanted to pursue a further relationship with you… was one of hardest things he’d ever done.

And it wasn’t even because he was coming up short in the flirting and the hinting, it was because you just didn’t get it.

Dante had never been one to actively pursue for a relationship, let alone chase after anyone to the point he was tripping on their heels each and every time an attempt failed. It wasn’t really in the job description or his nature to be looking for anyone to be with given there was a horrifying chance it would end badly and then he’d just be adding another person to the list of people he failed to keep safe, and that was not something he was looking to do. However, he’d been the one to treasure his humanity the most and latch to it as much as he could, and in consequence he’d become more emotional to the point he had to practically hide anything before it was shown on his expression – and for some reason that felt extremely pathetic but, damn, he just couldn’t help it when he saw you. He was Dante, the Legendary Devil Hunter, had so many demons crushed underneath his boots, had lived on his own and survived for so long with nothing but a sword strapped to his back and two guns in his hands, and he was suffering from a crush…

A crush on you (well, it wasn’t a crush at the point he had to be honest), and you had the thickest skull of anyone he’d ever met.

(And Dante was sure Vergil was somewhere laughing at him and his shit luck.)

Dante wasn’t some blushing virgin either, and he knew his way around sweettalking regardless if he meant it or not, and yet even when he meant it with you… it just never seemed to stick to your brain just what he was getting at. From going out of his way to do things for you, complimenting you, and even letting you drink some of his tomato juice and put a strawberry sundae on his tab for you, it still seemed like you really didn’t get it. And it had gotten so bad he’d resorted to cheesy and terrible pick-up lines hoping you would understand then, something he hadn’t pulled out in a long while and something he was going to be sure would work that time around given how upfront they were.

The results… well, they spoke well enough for themselves.

The first time you had been posed on the sofa of Devil May Cry, deeply into some book you’d picked up from the library Trish had mentioned you would like, and he saw the opportunity presented before him. He waited until you stretched after reading too long, placing the book down onto your lap and sighing as your attention was elsewhere for the moment and it was his time to shine. Dante only cleared his throat from behind his desk (and no, he wasn’t preening to make sure his hair looked good either), making sure your eyes glanced towards him for better effect, then he let the words roll off his tongue as smooth as butter on toast.

“I don't have a library card, but do you mind if I check you out?”

A beat and you paused, looking at him for a long moment that nearly made him sweat before your eyes widened and he thought finally – finally you understood what he was getting at. And then, you jumped up way too enthusiastically for hearing some cheesy pick-up line and practically jogged in place before grabbing the book from the floor in a haste. “Oh my God, wait…” you started, then you were rushing towards the front door of the shop, “I just remembered one book is due today – thanks for the reminder, Dante!”

The door slammed on your way out, and Dante could only sit there in silence and wonder if there was some type of curse that had been cast on him on the past that made his words not make sense… Or if you really just were dense as they came. Regardless, he wasn’t going to give up so easily.

The second time he threw another one-liner at you was when you both were on a job together, and you’d been good at sniping and swiping kills from him (and he’d be lying to say that he didn’t ease up some so that you get a few in and he could sit back and watch you) to the point once it was done he couldn’t help but say something to you. He waited until some adrenaline wore off, taking pride in how messy you looked with blood smeared on your cheek while taking a rag to clean the excess muck off your gun, then he tried once more with a bolder approach.

“Stop, drop, and roll now, cause babe, you're on fire.”

Instantaneously you reacted, and Dante could only sigh in exhaustion at how you began to turn in place looking for the ‘fire’ that was on your ass. “Where?! Help me then!”

Dante could feel his eye twitch as you hopped in place, his words once again lost on you as he felt his chances with you significantly reduce. But he was not a quitter – never was, and never would be.

The third time around had been his last attempt at pick-up lines, and it was even worse because you were in public that time eating together (which was basically a date, but you were so scatterbrained it didn’t necessarily strike a chord in you… though him and you alone eating together – hello, that was a date). Dante had finished his food by that point and was content just to sit and wait for you, watching you pick around your salad before the thought came to him looking at a lone cucumber you had pushed to the side. Cheesy he knew, but it was another attempt he wasn’t going to pass up with you two alone and so close to each other, and he waited until you finished chewing and swallowed before he tried for the last time.

“If you were a vegetable, you’d be a cute-cumber.”

You stopped moving the same time his heart did, a beat of silence passing in-between you two as you looked up at him for a few moments. Dante could practically feel his palms sweat as you stared at him, thinking he was finally beginning to see the gears in your head work together and he braced himself for the inevitable rejection (or acceptance… he still had hope) the second you blinked at him and tilted your head inquisitively. However, what left your lips second later with a smile made Dante want to throw himself onto oncoming traffic.

“Oh, are you still hungry? You can have some if you want.”

If he could’ve shoved his head through the wall he would’ve, or even dented the table with how hard he slammed his forehead into it. How were you so intelligent when it came to everyday things but the moment it came to someone hitting on you, you just had zero clue to what was going on? And it had gotten so bad the damn point Trish and Lady were giggling at his failures, but at least Trish took some pity and tried to spell it out for you one night at Devil May Cry.

She grinned as she leaned her head onto your shoulder, curling her arms around your own as she snickered in your ear and knocked her foot into yours, “Y’know, I think Dante adores you.”

Thanks, Trish. Way to be real subtle.

However, that didn’t matter, because you didn’t understand what she meant. At all. Again.

You tilted your head to where he sat at his desk (and he remained nonchalant as possible reading a magazine upside down), and smiled at him so big he thought he finally had his chance. But alas, misfortune was his middle name apparently. “Thank you, Dante. I really appreciate it.”

What did you have against him? Please.

Dante was sure he was going insane, the longer he battled the emotions magnifying the more time he spent around you, and the more you seemed to just not understand what he was getting at. And it had gotten so bad he accidentally paid the pizza delivery guy with his mind all muddled with thoughts of you instead of the slamming the door in his face and putting it on his tab. That was when he knew he had to swallow some pride and just take you by the shoulders and tell you what he was feeling for you, male ego be damned. He loved you and needed to you know before he started stabbing himself to get your attention and some sappy romance scene played out.

So, that was what he did, waited until you two were alone in the shop and grabbed you by shoulders and just… confessed.

“Listen… I’m in love with you. I have feelings for you. That means, I want you romantically, so please get that through your thick skull.” Okay, Dante would admit the last part wasn’t that necessary, but his frustrations were literally making his hair turn whiter – if that was even possible.

And thankfully – thankfully, you understood that time, and he got the satisfaction and relief at watching gape at his words before you began to look bashful. And to his heart’s content, you reached up and covered his hands with yours with a soft squeeze and an even softer smile on your lips, “You love me too? I didn’t think I was being noticeable either...”

Dante blinked, and he practically hear his jukebox stutter somewhere in the back of his mind as he kicked too hard one too many times. One word made his eye twitch again, and then he was feeling as dense as you were. “’Too..?’”

A laugh escaped you, “Yeah, I was kinda worried you could tell, but it looks like you saw straight through me –”

The jukebox stutter in Dante’s mind abruptly turned to an old Internet dial-up tone, and he had no wards before he completely tuned your words out and shook his head. He couldn’t take it anymore. “Please, just… kiss me before I lose my damn mind.”

You giggled and did as he asked, and Dante was sure his leg might’ve lifted a little at the feeling of your sweet lips on his he’d dreamt about so many times before. He might as well been practically floating too, breaking away from you as you hummed and leaned into his chest for an embrace, basking in the silence of an embarrassing confession together as you both seemed to get what you finally wanted. Discreetly he inhaled the scent of you, and yeah, he could easily get used to a relationship with you… especially with the hard part over.

Then, breaking the serene silence and Dante’s brain, you spoke –

“So how long have you liked me?”

[sebmindbreak]

can i rq a fluff shedletsky x reader fic pls.. i hc he has wings so i think a wing preening fic would be cute. it'd be kinda like washing someones hair in terms of intimacy imo

HEHEH TIME FOR THIS

i dont knwo what ot say im tired so like

I HOPE YOU LIKE IT <33

TITLE : neglect

The room was quiet save for the small, muffled sounds coming from the bed.

The kind of sounds that made your chest ache.

Shedletsky lay curled up on his side, his form trembling beneath the blankets.

His wings, normally full of ruffled mischief and sarcastic confidence, now looked… broken. Not in the literal sense, but in the way a neglected thing sags.

Feathers bent the wrong way, some fallen onto the sheets. The soft down at the base was matted, frayed.

His shoulders were hunched, wings twitching with pain.

You had tried to help him for weeks now.

Told him. Begged him. Warned him. But every time, he waved you off with a forced grin and a dismissive shrug.

"I'm fine."

But he wasn’t. And now he was crying.

Small, barely-there sobs as his body trembled like a wilted bird in a storm.

“…It hurts,” he choked out, his voice barely above a whisper. “I-I didn’t think it would get this bad…”

You sat beside him on the bed, hand hovering carefully near his wings. He didn’t resist. He didn’t even look up.

“I was just gonna fix it later. You kept telling me and I didn’t listen…”

You slowly reached out. His body tensed for a heartbeat—then stilled under your fingers.

“…Sorry,” he mumbled, breath catching again. “I should’ve let you help earlier… I didn’t want to be—weak.”

As your fingers began to move through the worst of the damage, his breath hitched.

Then a shuddering sigh escaped him, followed by a shaky exhale as your hands worked gently through the tangled down and bent feathers.

“God… that feels… better than I thought it would…”

You were slow, careful not to pull too hard.

Every little movement seemed to draw him deeper into stillness, the pain unwinding from his muscles as you smoothed and preened the mess he’d let fester.

“I didn’t mean to ignore it. I just” His voice cracked again. “I thought if I said I was fine enough, it’d stop hurting.”

Your touch traveled along the arch of his wings, easing the twisted spots and plucking away the loose feathers that had been tugging at the skin.

He shivered but not in pain this time. Relief was creeping in. Soothing. Anchoring him.

“You’re too good to me,” he whispered, head sinking deeper into the pillow. “Even when I’m stubborn. Even when I snap.”

You continued, your hands gentle as water over stone. The feathers slowly aligned under your touch. You didn’t say a word but you didn’t need to.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said, his voice small, like it was meant for the darkness and not for you. “You do this for me, even after I pushed you away…”

One of your hands brushed along a particularly sensitive spot near the base of his wing, and he let out the smallest, most vulnerable sound a soft, broken coo that cracked your heart in two.

He leaned into your touch without thinking, burying his face into the pillow as you worked.

There was no teasing in him tonight. No sarcasm. No witty remarks. Just a quiet, aching version of Shedletsky you rarely saw. One who let the walls drop.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured again, barely audible now. “I didn’t want you to see me like this…”

His voice trailed off as your hands moved slower, now focused on the softest, most tender parts of his wings.

You felt him begin to breathe easier. The trembling eased. His body relaxed truly relaxed for the first time in what felt like days.

“…Don’t stop,” he breathed. “Please…”

You didn’t.

His voice was softer now. Barely there. “…Feels safe when it’s you. Even when I’m a mess.”

Another feather slipped loose under your fingers. He didn’t even flinch.

“I’ll let you help sooner next time. I promise.”

Your hands never left his wings.

Even when he fell quiet, even when the sobs faded and his breathing evened out, even when he shifted just enough to press into your side like a child curling closer to warmth.

“…You always fix me,” he mumbled at last, voice muffled into the pillow.

And then he went still. Heavy with sleep. Safe in your presence.

You didn’t stop preening not until his wings were back to the way they should be.

And even after that… you stayed. Right there beside him.

Because you always would.

HHEHEE

i like silly small angst that goes to fluff <3

[amoristt]

the night falls like heaven || 2

part one (x)

「 ✦nam-gyu/reader ✦ 」 tags: sfw // hurt/comfort, mild sexual themes, mild violence, not as angsty as the first one lol, namgyu is a fake idgafer,

a/n: im so happy to get this final out UGH i do have one more small piece related to this mini series ( wink wink iykwim) that ill get posted asap! i hope you guys enjoy hehehe word count: 7.5k | songs i listened to (x) (x) original request (x)

・❥・When you open your eyes on the dawn of the third day, the first thing you’re met with other than the ceiling is the hushed whispering of other players already awake. Chatter that grew by the minute, drowned out below you. 

Sitting up was a hassle for sore, sore muscles and aching bones that had been shaken to the very marrows. You remembered praying, staring up into the white tiles above, for god to give you an easier day than the last. 

You weren’t sure how much more of this you could take. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the third game. Mingle was a monster bearing teeth and a gaping maw, biting and snarling and killing. Blind panic, grabbing hands and twisting fingers. Room after room watching the light in someone's eyes go out through the miniscule gap in the heavy doors. 

Almost every second of the game was spent in apprehensive terror, watching the room go round and round until you were dizzy between the colors and blood. The way fear had stricken you made it hard to focus on anything except numbers and faces, split second decisions that showed only the truest of nature, tailing the few people you’d grown acquainted with into rooms bathed in muted greens and oranges. 

Nam-gyu was nowhere to be seen- or perhaps you were just simply overlooking him, lost in the sea of moving bodies and swaying feet. 

Groups of six became five, and then four. One after the other, names of those you’d never gotten the chance to learn became grave markers. Four, and then three. 

Over the days, you’d grown quite close to a player who’d happened to choose the bed a couple feet from yours, the both of you chatting about the people scattered about the dormitories. He was a kind man with dark hair and even darker eyes that never seemed to feel untrustworthy. Normal enough, friendly enough. Quick to let you join his team during the six-legged race even though you’d found him with a sour expression and an ever more sour attitude. 

So when the number of players per room dropped to two, you jumped to grab his hand and yank him into a room. The least you could do, you think. He had been so kind when you kept messing up your minigame, managed to gather your confidence into the final try, you owed it to him to get him through his game. 

You threw a door open and let him jump inside. For just a second, all the chaotic cries were muffled through the thick walls. 

But only for a second. Because something true and powerful ripped you back by your tracksuit, dragged you right out from that room and sent you skittering on the floor feet away. The wind knocked from your lungs, the back of your head bouncing off the floor with a crack. Fireworks exploded behind your eyes, obscuring the scene before you, but not so much to miss a man slipping into the room after forcibly taking your place.

When you finally bring yourself to your feet and try to pry the door back open, you see your friend held back by that damned player all the way in the corner. 

“Run!” Your friend cries. No sound reaches you. “Run!”

The step back you took was shaky, your mind swimming, lost under the ocean. Heat flooded your skin, prickly and loud. Your heart was a thrashing beat, beat, beat, in your ears. 

Outcries and players beating on doors in the corners of your eyes. 

You were going to die. 

The first thing you think of, standing there frozen in place, watching your friend try in vain to free himself from the other player’s (your murderer’s) grip, was what death would be like. Doors slam shut, rooms occupied with poor souls clutching at the window trying to pry the doors open.

The player holding your friend back gave you sorry, sorry eyes despite it all. 

You hoped the afterlife would be kinder than this. 

And then, with seconds to live, you think of Nam-gyu. The time spent with him argues with the pit of hours spent wasted. Years of wondering and then days of having. It was never good for you, not really, but you loved him in a way that made you weak in the knees. And you missed him so, so deeply that when you’d locked eyes with him on day one there was this little part of you that hoped he did, too. 

Clearly, he did. And you fought against him like a bull, his hands tearing away on your horns, all anger and sneers. A piece of you rearing its head, an angry beast that would prickle at the very thought of his name. A suit of rage to hide away that broken hearted girl standing in the doorway, wishing he’d stop her. 

All that. Just to let him back in. 

If you had known this was the end, perhaps you would have let him prove himself.

You’re yanked to the side so intensely you almost drop to the ground like a stone through murky waters. Running, somehow, even though you couldn’t feel your legs. Everything is a blur of colors and flashing pinks, your brain’s gears have gone haywire and firing blanks in the disarray. When you’re getting your footing back, and your eyes have decided to process the sight before you, you’re drowned out in green covering every corner. 

Metallic thudding and muffled screams. You’re spun around on your heels so quickly it almost made you tip over all over again.

“Why the fuck were you just standing there?!” 

You hear his voice before you see his face. 

When you do, and Nam-gyu’s blocking that abhorrent neon light beating over your skin, it feels like all the gears have stopped. Tunnel vision, all else echoing away in chambers far forgotten. His hands drag from your shoulders to your face, tries to gather the bits of you scattered outside the room. 

“What’s going on with you, huh? Listen to me!”

He’s angry. Or, at least, he looks like it- sounds angry too. But the way his eyes are scanning you, searching you over in noticeable distress tells you otherwise. Fingers running through your hair, tips dancing through your locks until suddenly they nudge up against something so sharply sensitive that it makes you leap. He’s quick to stop you when you try to shove against his chest. 

“Hold still,” Fingers still searching, the palms flat against the sore spot you’d cracked against the hard floor. “You hit your head.”

Not angry, after all. Even the animosity in his tone has melted into something quieter. He draws back and checks his hands for blood. 

“I’m fine.” You have this idea to push Nam-gyu away from you. For some reason, you don’t. You lean into him. Maybe it’s because your head is still struggling to support your brain. Or, maybe, it’s because at that moment you were grappling with the reality that was him being one of your final thoughts. Again. 

Flirting with death was becoming a trend with a common denominator. 

You bury your face into his chest and let yourself feel protected for the first time in years. For a moment, Nam-gyu tenses. Unsure, disbelief. 

“Thank you.” Your voice was a gentle hum that vibrates against his chest, and sticky tears are dampening your water lines, lost in his tracksuit. Wakes him up, muscle memory wraps his arms around your body. You can’t hide the way you tremble like a leaf.

And you can’t hide the way he soothes it all out, rests his chin against the top of your head and lets you use him to find yourself in one piece.

You thank him again, even when he says not to. You thank him, and thank him, and thank him until the door unlocks and you follow him out like a braindead zombie. Pools of blood, now more than ever, are splattered along the floor. 

You see yourself among them.

Still a meandering zombie all the way back to the dormitories. The top bunks have all been taken down, marking the end of lives. There’s a pit in your stomach that only alleviates when you lock eyes with your friend- and this stupid grin explodes over your face when he realizes you lived. He’s across the room from you now, but he’s warm all the same. 

It takes a long time to find a new bed to call your own, but when you do, you hope laying down will help you with the thoughts rattling around in your skull. 

.

Hours later, you’re still drowning in thoughts. 

I do know you. That's exactly why I won’t be on your side. 

Your throat strickens. A million thoughts are bursting your brain at its very seams and spilling out from the cracks. Chatter is endless in the dormitory, but you loiter in uncanny silence. 

You know that I can’t stay with you. Never again. 

The extraordinary disdain so profound it had scared even you to hear it rolling off your tongue. Standing before you, ears flat and flickering tail tucked, an unending urge to control, Nam-gyu had been the very same man you’d deserted for all those years. But the core of you had been so blue it would frost to the very touch, sapphire walls of licking flame to keep anyone and anything out. Even as you found companionship in the presence of others, your mind called for him until you’d hushed it with an onslaught of terrible, terrible memories at his own hands. 

But then you almost died, ripping the cord back on your third attempt at the spinner, watching it tumble fruitlessly as your heart thudded in your ears. Finally getting it, and still barely passing the finish line with your lives intact. It rocked you- changed you, but only in the ways you didn’t notice right away. Walking back into that dormitory, frightened as rabbits before great jaws of teeth, the first thing you fancied yourself to see was him. 

You felt something real when you did- something forgotten and dusty creeping into the forefront of your mind. 

And then he went and saved your life during Mingle. 

Plucked you from the claws of death itself and dragged you into that washed out green-lit room, the colors hueing off your skin and glistening in his eyes when he grabbed your face to check on you. The distress of his expression, the red-hot regard for you to be in one piece, to be in his hold again after so long… It rewired something in your fuzzy brain. Clarity, or illusion, settled and fired echoing shots of previously snuffed out passion to life. 

Reminded you why you fell in love with him, why you never wanted to be without him. More specifically, why being his girlfriend, his one and only, was so important. 

You had known from the start that you were his. You knew it the first night he’d picked you up on his night off and drove you around the city, watching the lights sing in the hues of his eyes. You knew it when he crept into your apartment at a very whim after a long shift, particularly worn and falling into your bed with beautiful ease. 

You knew it the first time he kissed you, eager and fervent. And you knew it the first time you felt him inside of you. Heavy, filling, the perfect piece to all that you needed. 

At the end of the day, you knew it was always you and him- until that fact began to waver and fade, and you found that resolve cracking. Disappearing for weekends at a time, never returning a text or a call, until suddenly it was two in the morning and he was at your door, and you’d barely even get the chance to rub the sleep from your eyes before he was pushing you into the walls and stripping you down to your very bones. All teeth and grabbing hands and your voice chanting his name through the silence. 

A flame roaring so deep and red hot it scorched at the touch. 

It was such a small request, you felt- labels. Be mine, be mine, be mine so I may give myself entirely to you and trust the fall on the way down. You needed that reliability, you needed to know that he held you as you held him. And, lord, you had been so sure of yourself. Brought it up as you ran your fingers along his chest absently, exposed and naked and shimmering with the hazy afterglow of sex. 

No had caught you off guard so severely you had to ask him to repeat himself. The second time you heard it, it hit you like a cold bucket of water splashing overhead. Drenched, chilly down to your very bones. Air ripped from your lungs, mouth dry when he proceeded to laugh at you. 

“Be serious.” He’d chittered. “I’m too busy for all that.” 

Voice wavering, tears already threatening to build in your eyes as you spoke, I am serious. 

“Don’t be a bitch, okay?” Hands touching your naked sides, wrapping around you like slithering snakes threatening to drag your life from the confines of your skin. A touch that felt as slimy as his voice sounded. “We’re fine like this.”

“So what, you just want to fuck and call it a day, forever?”

Lips finding your neck. 

“Come on. You know I like you.” Licks up your jugular, doesn't notice the way you aren’t shivering at the feeling, locked up. 

“If you like me then be my boyfriend.” His ceiling was mundane, void of anything particularly eye-catching, but you couldn’t tear your gaze off.

“I’m busy.”

“…Not too busy for sex, though.”

He pulled back to look at you, this growing sneer on his lips. “What’s gotten into you, huh?”

“Come on, is it really so bad? Being my boyfriend?” You sweetened, tried to soften him. “I just wanna hear you say it, y’know?”

Nam-gyu had tensed at the word the first time, and he did just as well the second time around. Prickles at every word. 

“We’re not fucking-” He gets up and you’re cold, and you’re heart broken and there’s rage simmering somewhere in your belly. “What we have is fine. Don’t complain about shit.”

“Seriously Nam-gyu? You show up and you fuck me and but that’s all you want out of life?” When he doesn’t answer, that simmering rage bubbles into more, swinging your legs from around his bed and bringing yourself to your unsteady feet. “Tch. Fine. Forget about it. ‘Too busy’. God’s sake- If you’re too fucking busy have you considered working a little less?”

Nam-gyu’s jaw tenses and he scoffs, climbs out of bed and passes you right by to throw himself limply onto the couch. 

“Can you chill? How about you focus on you and I’ll focus on me, yeah?”

You took all of five minutes to throw your clothes on and find yourself running down the halls of his apartment. All you bore was your clothes, your phone, and your dignity. Rest be damned, scrambling to get to the privacy of your home with eyes so blurred with tears you almost didn’t make it. 

Months and months to scrub him from your body, even longer for the weight of his presence to go unnoticed in your mind. Even longer to stop seeing him in your dreams, and feeling your heart flutter with every knock at the door. 

You should hate him, still. 

But oh god, you can’t.

And oh god, the way he looked at you in that room, all hands clutching and grabbing and touching you so gingerly you wonder if you’d died somehow, after all. In that moment you wondered how he could ever hurt you at all. Beautiful and warm. 

Years to forget him. 

Exactly 3 days for him to sink back in as if he’d never left. 

Corners of your brain would always house him, the door was always propped open and all the windows unlocked. Nam-gyu would find himself right back where he had started within you, leaving dirty footprints through your hallways.

The differences in him were subtle creatures, if you’d blink you’d miss it at times, but he’s trying and that means he gives enough of a shit. He’s waiting for you to open your arms and welcome him back in so he could make a mess of you all over again- and though you may be a fool, you decide to throw the poor dog within him a particularly tasty bone. 

You don’t sit next to him by any teams, but after grabbing your dinner from the guard you make a point to settle upon a set of steps within Nam-gyu’s general vicinity. It’s an invitation- one that reaches him in alluring calls the very moment he sees you lean back and catch his eyes. As always, he was eager to take that chance, hastily getting up from what little ‘friends’ he had and scurrying over to sit beside you. 

At first you don’t offer any words. There’s a certain weight in the gapping pause, like he’s at the edge of his seat, leaning on every inhale and exhale of yours. Dark eyes and a pointed expression that can never quite seem to figure you out. He waits, and he waits for you to break the silence whilst spinning the rings on his fingers, his meal yet to be touched at his lap. Your tongue swipes out over your lips.

“Thank you.” Tentative, careful. But you break the stillness regardless like a stone through water.

“You already said that.” 

“I know, but I need to say it again. You could have gotten yourself killed, you know.”

Poking through his rice with his chopsticks, all he offers is a dull shrug, like it doesn't matter. Your eyes narrow, and you mock him with a dramatic shrug of your own.

“That’s all? Really?” He won’t meet your face, chewing the edge of his lower lip. You scoff. “Does your life mean that little to you?”

“How can you ask that? It means a lot to me. I don’t wanna die.”

“You almost did.”

He finally finds your eyes, expression caught somewhere between the dance of upheaval and agitation. Perhaps he doesn’t even understand it himself- the way he’d thrown his life around so easily for you. You’re pushing him, so you reign back, let yourself soften just enough. 

“You could have died, and you did it anyway?”  

“Damn it,” He sets his food down and rubs his eyes, dragging at the skin. “Why’re you always asking so many questions?”

“Because you never tell me things on your own.” You pluck the fried egg from your box, chewing down the cold food. When you take a bite, Nam-gyu does too, whether he means to move in tandem with you intentionally or not. 

“I tell you lots of things.”

“Sure, but nothing I ever really wanna know.”

“Alright.” He puts his food down again, swallows his mouthful of rice, restless. “Ask me shit, then.”

You know the smart thing would be to have a couple buffer questions, little things real easy for him to digest, but the words leave you before you get the chance to pull them back down to the pandora within your chest. 

“Why did you turn me down?”

It should catch him off guard, but it doesn’t. His blinks down at you, jaw tensing, those eyes of his always so stormy and unsure. Once again, all he manages for you is a shrug. He’s hiding right before your very eyes, all hands reaching out whilst slapping yours away when you reach back. A scared, hurt, biting dog. The tendency to howl for your love was beastly and he never stopped bearing those teeth. 

“Please,” A sweet touch to his arm, a downcast to your lovely eyes. “I have to know why you didn’t want me.”

“I did want you.” He says it so fast you have to take a second to process him. Your brows knit, the early stages of confusion and anger bubbling under your skin as you set your bento box down. Your temper was always the first to bloom.

“Clearly not, or you wouldn’t have let me leave.”

He swallows, tongue poking out to swipe over his lips. “I freaked out.”

“Really? Because I remember you just sitting there.”

“I know.” His fingers find his mouth, teeth catching on the hangnails he’d worked into the nail beds during bouts of anxiety. “I was freaking out. I didn’t want all that extra shit and then you left and I-...” He swallows again, mind searching for all the words. “I don’t know. I didn’t think you’d really go.”

You have to digest it all for another moment, a pregnant pause as you do. The look on his face that day, so mullish and nonchalant even though you knew with every fibre of his being that he was anything but never left you. Haunted you, drew you away from anyone that shared even an ounce of similarities. You saw his smirks, heard his laughter, saw the outlines of his posture in strangers and it always made you sick to your stomach. 

There’s a thousand questions, now, but you hone in one in specific. 

“Extra shit?”

“Extra shit. Like-... Girlfriend, boyfriend shit…”

“Nam-gyu, we did have girlfriend, boyfriend shit.”

“Yeah but then you wanted to go and make it some official thing. If we already had it, why bother? All labels do is cause problems. What we had… It was good. It was fine.”

Your skin is starting to heat up. There’s a fall to your tone when you slip your hand off his arm and murmur, “Fine, for you.”

His eyes follow your hand retracting as if you’d cut him, shoulders slumping. “...Why didn’t it work for you?”

“I really liked you. I needed all that extra ‘official’ shit, whether you think it’s stupid or not. It meant a lot to me. It meant that you were serious about me, that you wanted me more than the… Fun. we had.” The words leave you forlorn, alive but peaking at the brims with defeat. “I knew I was yours, but… I wanted-... Needed to know that you were mine, too.”

“I was yours!” Nam-gyu leans back hard, terse and pointed with this sullen desperation around him that cried hear me. “I was yours and I didn’t need some stupid name to prove it.”

It’s a tale as old as time, true as it can be when he’s bunching his sleeves up, gripping hard to the inner fabrics, growing frustrated and antsy under the glint of your spectacle. His skin twitches like it’s its own separate entity, like he has to squeeze and clutch and drag to get it to settle back over his muscles and nerves. You’re sure you’re under there right now, worming paths through his veins and into his brain like a sneaky little parasite he could never seem to shake. 

All it takes is a gentle touch to his arm again. Reminds him that you’re right there, beside him. 

And then he’s giving up. Losing his edge, losing his temper but crushing the rolling bites of anger into a simple longing itch of you. He’s trying to clamp his mouth shut but you’re dragging it all out of him anyways, cast by cast. It’s a gratifying satisfaction you never knew could scratch so good. You’d wanted it since the start- all these swirling emotions sputtering from his lips so you could lap up every sound. 

Fingers fall from his tracksuit. You eye him, meet his dejection face to face. 

“Why was being my boyfriend such a terrible thing to you?”

Nam-gyu’s expression falls miles below anything else you’ve seen thus far, somehow. Drawn and weathered, far away down into his lap and hiding himself within the darks of his eyes to escape your gaze. 

“I didn’t want anything to change.” Strands of hair slip past his ear and hang around the frame of his face, further shielding him. “I didn’t think… I don’t know what I thought.”

“Didn’t think what?” It’s like pulling teeth, you find, extracting the bits of him he’d clocked years into burying. You coax him anyway, and he finds your light with compulsory desire. 

“I thought I didn’t want it.”

 “It, or me?”

“It. It really got under my skin. You, got under my skin.” When he looks at you, you can truly see the mask breaking away into shards. A person suit coming untwined as the real him bloomed. “Girlfriend had a lot of… weight to it. I didn’t want all of that, but you then left, and I don’t know.”

And thus, that nonchalant squarecrow he’d planted onto that couch all those years ago is gone in the blink of an eye. You remembered him ugly and defiant in the moment, but you had overlooked the smirk of anxiety. The way he watched every move you made, the way he rubbed red into the skin of his hands with his fingers itching to drive into something, anything to release the tension. 

I thought I didn’t want it.

A weight settles in your chest as the being of him crawls further into your ribcage, carefully.

“...How do you feel, now?”

Eyes travel from where your touch meets his skin, up to your shoulders, and then to meet your line of sight. His lips twitch, parting, but he’s searching for the words. Searching for you, you realize, reaching and begging to be taken out from the cold. 

“I thought you died earlier.” He blurts. It throws you off guard, but your perturbation is only as long as it takes for him to continue with the ghost of fright still saturating the memory. “After the six-legged race, I thought you died, and it felt like it was my fault.”

 “Hold on, I chose to not join you.” Your brows knit, clutching the fabric of his tracksuit a little tighter. He just shakes his head. 

“If you had died, I don’t know what I would have done. It was only for a few minutes, but fuck. I just kept thinking I shouldn’t have let you say no.”

A cross between amusement and empathy shapes your lips into an uptick, your palm dragging upwards to his bicep. “That’s the problem we keep having, Nam-gyu. When are you gonna’ realize you don’t ‘let me’ do anything?”

“Oh, I know it already. Trust me.” A sigh leaves him but it almost sounds like a scoff. 

The recollection of your momentary loss eats at him. In all the years you’d been gone from his life, a ghost turned into forlorn fleeting blips of memories, you could still read him like your favorite book. Line for line, word for word. Every character and detail etched into your mind, a glorious museum packed to every corner with him, him, him. 

There’s this part of you that’s coming to life again, rising from the ashes not so much like a roaring phoenix but this gentle stream of embers singing the tips of your soul. Like an old battery, a feeling that comes from deep, deep, within. The uncanny urge to sooth out all those tensions stoning over his muscles and push his hair from his face as he always does. 

“I didn’t realize you had been that upset, earlier.”

Which is a lie. Truth be told, when you’d managed to find your feet back into that dormitory, the first thing you sought was him. And he was on you, quick, teary and red. In that moment, you could see the way he felt as though he could breathe again. You all the same- this all consuming relief washing over you like a wave from head to toe. 

He was the first thing on your mind when you’d walked in, and he was the last thing on your mind when you fell asleep that night. 

Nam-gyu’s breath stutters as he nods.

“I almost did.” You murmur, feeling the blitz of terror that’d driven into your heart during your round. “I kept fucking up the spinner, and my teammate lied about knowing how to play Ggongi. Because of us, we barely even made it with a second left. You wanna know something?” It takes a second for him to look you in the eyes, but he does, and you smile pathetically. “I remember thinking to myself, man, I should have gone with you. And then you went and saved my life earlier and I felt like such a…” 

He blinks at you, and you can’t help but laugh. 

“I felt like such a bitch.”

For a couple seconds, he doesn't react, but when he does, he leans back and clicks his tongue. His lips tuck upwards and he’s trying to not smile- your heart soars. 

“You can say it this time,” You giggle, nudging him. “I won’t be mad.”

Another shake of his head, those black strands falling even further from his ear. “Yes you will.”

Tongue swiping out over your lips, you can feel the energy lifting back up, buzzing and trilling like a spring day melting away the laundering billows of snow. Something blooms there with beautiful petals under the sun. 

“You haven't answered my question.” You chirp. He looks at you, and you’ve got him now, all his attention and all his warmth. Subconsciously, you lean towards him. And he does the same. “How do you feel now?”

There’s a heaviness that adopts the space between your bodies. Heartbeats and staggered breaths moving in tandem, a rhythm you knew all too well. All the time apart, bitter and spiteful and angry, just to realize that he’d never truly left the closets of your soul. You knew him like your own self, knew all his fine tunings and the jagged edges of his resentful anxieties.

Nam-gyu takes in the very essence of you with those all seeing eyes of his. 

“I never stopped thinking about you.” 

The world stops turning all at once when he speaks. 

Oh god, how your heart bursts into flames, unaware of how badly you’d been wanting this. Like getting a taste of the finest wine, or a forbidden fruit, so sweet and perfect and dripping down your chin. A confession spills from you in the stream. Years of snuffing out that licking flame just for it to combust into a raging wildfire at his whim. 

You can’t stop yourself. 

“I haven't, either.”

A version of you from three years ago howls out in retribution.

But then it’s hushed with the doe of his expression, leaning in like every word out of your mouth is gospel. His own personal bible, his own personal heaven. When you tell him, his breath leaves him in a broad rush of air.

A  voice echoes over the speakers, chopping chunks out of the palpable tension growing. Lights out in five minutes. 

For a long moment, you both just watch each other. The raw brunt of emotions is palpable, thick over your mind and body like a sheet of yearning tension. 

But Nam-gyu speaks first after he glances towards where your bed had been, gone as the number of players dwindled and the beds were rearranged to compensate. “Where are you sleeping tonight?”

“I found a different bed.” You don’t tell him that you purposely chose an empty bed closer to his, but when you point to it, you can see the pleased expression drawn out from the disappointment. 

“If you get nervous, come to mine.” He says suddenly, and you blink at him. 

“Nervous?”

“Just saying.” Fingers catching his sleeves, bunching the fabric up. “You can if you want.”

‘If you want’. He’s learning after all. 

“I’ll keep that in mind. I’m gonna get to bed, okay? I’ll come talk to you in the morning.” 

You say it so softly, like it could wound him. Perhaps it does regardless, however, because the look he gives you in return is especially pained. Hates that your getting up, hates that there’s going to be meters and meters of metal frame work and sleeping bodies filling the spaces that lead to you. He almost grabs you, fingers popping out from under his sleeves, but he reels himself back in and instead leans back against the wall of the step and watches you. 

Leaning down, you kiss his cheek, and you pretend you don’t notice the way his breath lodges into his throat when you do.

.

It’s quiet that night. This weight has settled over like a blanket of smog threatening to snuff you out everytime your breath leaves your lungs. There’s this irritation stuck within you- a certain twist and churn within your guts that makes you shift positions ceaselessly. The present arguing with the past, years of growth and the endless tumble back down to where you’d begun. The mindless, dangerous joy of landing flat on your back under him all over again. 

Laying on your side doesn’t work, your brain far too busy behind your eyes. You give laying on your back one more shot, eyes staring up at the bottom of the bunk above you, but it doesn’t help. Nam-gyu still floods your mind no matter what you do.

Fuck, you still see him. Those beautiful angles and the slopes of his cheekbones, the feeling of dragging your hands down his shoulders to his chest and marking every last inch. 

He’s saying your name within the confines of your skull, the sound echoing through your dome. 

You’re hearing him now, too? Great. As if it wasn't bad enough before. He’s taking over your mind, your body, and now you’re having to audibly hear him like a teasing ghost paying you visits of desire. You’re the same person you were three years ago, for god’s sake. After all you’d done to move on he’s still there under your skin, working his way through the ridges and bumps of your brain. 

“Hey, are you even awake right now?”

Wait- that’s not in your head. 

You launch up with a gasp sputtering in your throat, eaten by the sudden lurching fear of a dark figure leaning over your bed. The knee jerk reaction to scream fails you, as does your strength when the figure leans in close and you try to shove them away hopelessly. 

“Stop, stop! I’m not gonna’ do anything.”

Oh, it is Nam-gyu. He’s just decided to come and sneak up beside your bed like a creep in the darkness and properly scare the living daylights out of you. The sudden plummet of your nerves makes you wheeze out a sigh of relief and you toss yourself flat onto your mattress. Your hands cover your face, dragging the skin down in irritation. 

“I thought I was going to die.” You hissed.

“Come on. Seriously?” He sat at the edge of your bed, and you’re so fucking relieved it’s not some random player coming to sweeten the pot, that you let him without a word. 

“I didn’t realize it was you.”

“Who else would it be? Thanos?” 

“Yes, actually.” You smirk at him through your fingers. “That’d really bust your balls, wouldn’t it?”

“Don’t say that shit.” He grunts, huffing. “You being serious?”

He looks pathetic, even despite the way his brows collect in annoyance. You used to find that cute about him- all angry and ruffled on the outside but always this anxious, soft little thing on the inside. So pent up with nowhere to go, clinging to the few things that he gives a shit about but no means to show it. 

You still do find it cute. At least a little bit, anyways. You must because you find your lips tugging upwards before you can stop them. 

“No, obviously. Your friend is fucking weird.” Saying it like he isn’t weird, too, is a funny thing. But his weird is different in your eyes- better. 

You start to wonder if maybe things were changing, again. Reverting and revisiting a side of yourself he’d forced you to abandon. 

You also start to wonder if that's a good thing. It’s hard to tell with Nam-gyu. He has a way of making the things so terrible for you feel so, so good. 

He’s just sitting there in silence, thinking harder than you’ve ever seen him think. The tenacity of him is something new- which is crazy, because you truly had thought you’d seen all the in’s and the out’s of him. 

“Can’t sleep?” Your voice drags him out of his trance. 

The floor lights illuminate a glow in his eyes when he turns to look at you again, those dark hues far away. When he doesn’t answer, and you fully take in the somberness of him, you have this urge from deep within your soul. An insatiable itch that you’d refused to admit to yourself you’d been longing for the last three years. You swallow hard, your mouth opens and closes, struggling to get the words out.

“...Do you want to lay with me?”

It’s like inviting the vampire into your home knowingly.

Nam-gyu doesn’t linger for even a second. Maybe he’s afraid you’ll change your mind if he doesn’t jump on the chance, or perhaps he’d been desperate to be at your side since you’d left him that day. You weren’t sure- not really, but he was throwing himself at your side in the blink of an eye.

Even worse, his arms are already snaking around your body, finding you against himself in the darkness. Entitled to your body, and taking your air with him. A part of you has this immediate suspension- or more like, an experienced worry that those long fingers of his are going to try and explore down your body until they find something all too warm and familiar, but just like the look on his face moments ago, somethings different about him. Something longing, feeling. 

He drags your back against his chest and he cages you in his grasp and he buries his face into your hair, breathes you in so deeply you’d think he’s getting high off your scent. Squeezing you so tight like he can’t believe he’s really got you. He even brings the blanket over you and pats it over your shoulders before he nestles in against your body.

“Nam-gyu,” You whisper, and he hums in response. “What are you doing?”

As if you aren’t actively letting him, as if you aren’t feeling all your tensions melt away in his hold. A puzzle piece settled back into its place after so long it ached. 

His response is quiet, broken up. Words you never thought you’d ever hear leave his lips. 

“I missed you.”

Between his confession and his breath on your neck, you shiver. A full body wrack that makes you crack your eyes open in the darkness. 

“Yeah?” Your voice is equally as wavering.

He just nods and clutches you tighter. He’s never been this sweet with you- not even when things were good. And then he goes and surprises you again for the second, or third, time since he’s slinked into your bed. 

“When we leave here, give me another chance.”

The fence you’ve stuck atop of is mighty tall with a great leap on either side. One side him and all his backage, the other, lonely peace. To go through all that bullshit again might actually kill you. And fuck, you’ve done it, you’re out. You’re on the other side and untethered to him after so long, but he’s so warm next to you, and he’s saying the things you used to imagine in your weakest hours…

“You’re serious about this?” You ask, barely above a whisper.

He can’t say it, but he can nod against the cradle of your neck. 

“...And you’ll be my boyfriend?” You’re chewing the inside of your cheek, putting heavy emphasis on the label, making sure it rings true through that thick skull of his. 

Another nod. Your breath stutters in your fluttering chest. It’s slow, hesitating, but it’s there and you’re rolling over to face him through the dim lights. In this light, you can see certain parts of him that you’d seldom ever been able to touch. This softness, endearment that you caught fleeting glimpses of in his afterglows. Vulnerable. 

Your fingers find the sides of his face and he reacts like they’ve got their own gravitational pull, putty in your hold. Your touch is like warmth in the cold, like shelter within the storm. Life over all else. 

“So say it, then. Tell me you’re mine.”

He presses his lips into a tight line. “You already know I am.”

“Say it.” Dragging your thumb over his lower lip. “Say it so I can kiss you.”

You can see, you can feel the way light soars into those dark, dark eyes. His lips part. 

“I’m yours.”

Nam-gyu’s lips against yours, fingertips ghosting the mound of your cheekbone. 

It’s like coming home again. 

Sweet and gentle and nothing like you’d ever had the fortune of sharing with him. Kisses with him were always so urgent and demanding, but this was void of anything other than the yearn of finding yourself again. It’s the most intimate moment you’ve ever had with him, you think, in the middle of a packed room inches from death.

So intimate, that when he pulls away to gauge you, you drag him down by his collar for another. 

The flat of his palm cups the side of your face, and you hold the fabric of his suit to keep him right there. Deeper, this time. 

Too long for him was a beast of its own entirely, one that grew claws in your nail beds as you buried your hands in his thick black hair and let yourself melt into pools of honey around him. He’s equally so fervent, passion radiating off him like an aura, all hands and twisting arms and his body covering your own. Your back is flat to the bed and he’s overtop of you, so familiar but so different from before. Real and raw. He’s gripping a fist into the pillow beside your head, the blanket shifting off the bunk entirely and pooling onto the floor, forgotten. 

You pant when he breaks away, his hair tickling your face. He kissed your cheek, your jaw, and you’re excited to find his lips at your neck but instead he just kisses your jugular and buries his face within your collarbone. 

You wait for him to try to take it further. To claim the prize he’d really been working for- that sickly-sweet nectar between your legs that always seemed far too eager to drag him in. But he doesn't, and he’s quiet, and he’s breathing in your scent. 

And you haven't felt better in years. Clicked into place, even with the plane. 

“Okay.” You pant., find his shoulders and trace lines down his back, marveling in his twitching muscles under your ghost light touches.

“Okay?” His breath is hot against your skin. 

You pull him from the crook of your neck and pet down his face. He kisses your hand and you can’t stop this foolish grin from spreading over your face. A single nod.

“Okay. I’ll stay with you.”

He stops breathing. 

“For the game… Or, afterwards…?”

“For the game and afterwards. If we make it out.”

All of his weight settles at once, as though you’d pulled the pounds lodged onto his shoulders off entirely. 

“We will make it out.” His brows twitch together, caught between the cocktail of relief and trepidation, realizing that he could lose you all over again. He props himself up over you before he leans back on his knees, your waist trapped underneath his weight. 

You prop yourself up on your elbows. “You don’t know that.”

The moment you start to get up, he feels the need to flatten you back out under him with those hands of his. And you’re just as happy to do so- watching him towering over you before he lays at your side and wrenches you against his curling form. He kisses the back of your neck, chaste and soft until your skin flutters under each one. 

“Whatever happens,” You murmur, running your fingers over his knuckles. “I’ll stay with you.”

“We’ll make it out. I’ll make sure of it.” One more kiss to the back of your neck before he nuzzles you into him. 

It feels right. It feels like being rewarded, like getting the thing you wanted most in life. You bring his hand up to your lips just so you can dot kisses another his wrist. 

“I’ll hold you to that.”

[onriyuview]

hiii :3 im finally here 🥰 i have nawt watched any nct wish context whoops but!! i did have a question,, who do you think cums the fastest and who do u think takes the longest? 🤔 i gotta actually lock in and watch some wishes,, trust i'll do it!! i hope you're doing well though and i hope to interact with you more!!

hi hi cutie! oh my GAWD this ask had me blushing and kicking my feet.. but i trust you'll get into it eventually, even i'm behind on content so dw too much!! thank you for the kind words, and same to you!! :>

18+ mdni

mtl to cum fast

riku

yushi

sion

more under the cut

༘⋆ riku is just a needy little thing.. panting and whining and just so desperate to be inside of you that he can't hold back and ends up cumming too fast. would apologize while riding out his own high with shallow little thrusts, trying his best to get you to cum too. he'd rub quick little circles on your clit so he can feel your cunt squeezing around him, sending him into a fit of shakes and shudders as you overstimulate him with the pulsing of your gummy walls around his length. he can't help the pathetic sounds that escape his lips when he cums twice in the span of a few minutes, all at the mercy of your pussy.

༘⋆ yushi has a bit more patience and self-restraint, he's a little more teasing and less miserable than riku, with his slight smirks and some quirks of his brows at how needy you seem under him (because he'll definitely get you to that point).. he could for sure hold himself off from cumming, only at least until you cum, then it's fair game because how is he gonna fight against your gushy cunt sucking him in and milking him for all he's worth? his brows furrow and he's biting his lip to keep any loud sounds from escaping, resorting to hiding his face in your neck so you can hear his soft and sweet sounds.

༘⋆ sion plays the long game for sureee. has much more discipline to not cum quickly, putting your pleasure above his own most of, if not all the time. he doesn't seem desperate or needy for his own release, only really caring about yours and he's so focused on doing that, he doesn't even think about his poor aching cock when his mouth is buried in your cunt first (because he definitely eats you out beforehand every time). he barely even bats an eye at how incredibly tight you are when he bullies himself in your heat, even after prepping you on his tongue and fingers first. he makes sure you cum at least 3 times altogether before he finally reaches his own peak (and then making you give him one more for good measure).

update before i post: im giggling at how cordial we were, and now we talk like everyday heheh ily bunny bae

[twistedbloodstain]

I have two ideas for the marquis de framing that I think you’d do great writing!

1: where the reader is interrogating the marquis (meaning she kidnapped him) and through there, they start to get feelings for each other

2: reader (who had a relationship of some sort with the marquis) fakes their death because they couldn’t take the assassin world. The marquis is devastated (lots of angst hehehe). They meet again while the reader is trying to help someone (maybe John, lol)

3: reader who is part of the high table meets the marquis for the first time. Sorta like live at first sight.

vincent de gramont x reader: i could never give you peace | what’s meant to be is supposed to be

plot: the one where he finds you again.

warnings: the reader’s a medic/healer in here SORRYYY…, she knew john from before, he rats her out lolz, kidnapping except vincent doesn’t do it this time..(yay! cuz he forced someone else to do it!!!), anon im so sorry i focused too hard on one part, i will do an extra (i swear)

masterlist

“stay still.” you mumble.

mr. wick lets out a small grunt while you sew his wound back together, nothing too fatal (at least in his standards) but without the help of any anesthesia or alcohol to soothe the pain, the assassin had no choice but to follow.

“don’t worry, it's almost done.” you whisper almost finished with patching up the flesh on his back. “and..there..”

he immediately gets off his seat and reaches for his shirt stationed on a random desk scattered with medical supplies. he digs into his suit jacket and fishes out a coin and hands it over to you, you accept it eagerly and begin cleaning up.

“you need any help with transport?” you inquire while you discard your bloodied gloves and utensils.

“yeah.”

“on your way out turn left and find the guy with a gray jacket. he’s one of winston’s men, he’ll help you out. where are you headed?” you inquire while washing your hands. he hesitantly answers before offering a reply.

“paris.”

“oh.” you stop in your movements and look at him. he stands near the door way all dressed up with blood caking his temples, he still looks rugged and in no shape to do what he has to do in pairs but your opinion likely doesn’t matter to him.

“good luck, i guess.” you mutter.

“you’ve been there.” he says.

“i..have.” you hope he doesn’t press any further.

“what’s in paris?” he questions but doesn’t take a step further.

“for you?” you uneasily say, he doesn’t reply.

“a dangerous man. i..think you’ll die trying just to get what you want, mr. wick. but hey, who knows? maybe, it’s now him.” you explain.

“the guy who had the continental demolished, was it him?” he sternly asks.

“..yes, i think it was him.” you confess, avoiding his eyes.

it had been almost three years since you left that country.

three years since you left him.

you can’t even bear to say his name because if you do, all of it will spill out. how he met you, how kept you and how he loved you. 

he nods, “and for you?”

“an even more dangerous man.”

 ever since mr. wick entered and left your clinic. you've been in a constant state of anxiety. the mere thought and mention of him had you nervous, especially when you heard that he was in new york a few days ago. you thought it was all over, that he found you and was going to rip you from your freedom in this city.

the following news shocked you to your core, the new york continental being demolished was not in your bingo card as to why he’d be here. all because of an excommunicated assassin which you had tended to almost a day after the bombing.

although you’re horrified with the state of events, relief flooded you when you realized he wasn’t there for you. you’d still be safe from him.

but you can’t help but think what all of this means for him. at some point, you know that john wick will kill him, and you somehow played a part in it. you feel a tinge of regret for him but it’s quickly overshadowed with the horrors he’s done and you don’t feel as bad.

he did like you though, when you still worked at france for him as his estate medic. whenever he found himself wounded in the line of fire in an ambush attack, you were the one who tended to his wounds and saw him at his weakest. you don’t know why but a strong sense of trust was established between the two of you.

you thought it to be a friendship but fleeting glances of affection would seep through when you talked or when a large bouquet of flowers suddenly appeared in your clinic after patching him up. 

you toyed with a pin he gave you, his insignia. only he wore it proudly on his coat and truly, it warmed you to him. he did make you feel appreciated, small touches on your back and sometimes fiddling with your hands whenever you sewed his wounds, gave you butterflies in your stomach.

with you he was just…vincent.

soft words and touches with soulful eyes looking into yours, just gentleness and affection present in him. it made you indulge into it too, that he isn’t the cruel man people made him out to be. he isn’t heartless, that’s just how the world is.

a naive perspective.

a perspective that was easily shattered when you’d hear a bloodcurdling scream from the barn, and he walks out with blood on his hands and a disgusted look on his face from his clothes being stained. gunshots echoing beneath the servant’s staircases and thudding bodies being dragged into the secluded forests of the estate. you whisper to yourself those very same words even if all his actions sent chills on your spine.

but the truth of it is that, he is heartless. he is the man people made him out to be and you’re a fool thinking he could be better for you but at the end of the day, he is still the marquis.

it made you think. what if this is all a game to him? what if the moment he finds you uninteresting you become another stain on his suit? 

it’s not a secret that men like him love having delicate pretty things only to break them apart. that’s all you are his current delicate and pretty thing.

you decided to leave. you weren’t staying long enough to find out what would happen to you, feelings be damned when you’re easily replacable to him. you knew that the marquis was like a dog to a bone when he didn’t get the things he wanted, which only pooled fears into your stomach should he find you in new york.

he cannot have you.

you stare at the pin before chucking the pin somewhere in the room, you get up from your chair and begin closing the windows from your clinic.

a knock comes from the door, you chuck the remaining medical materials into a random desk and walk up to the door. wounded assassins aren’t a strange occurrence at this time of the evening but something…felt different.

your gut was telling you to ignore the person on the other side and stay still. you thought that maybe if you didn’t answer the person would go away. wanting to play things safe you don’t mutter a word that would alert them of your presence. it usually worked in some cases.

the knocking persists, much harder and louder now. your hands begins to shake and your eyes start looking around for an emergency firearm to help defend yourself, your actions frantically halt when you hear a voice through the door.

“doc?” a gruff voice asks.

you sight and put a hand on your chest. it’s just john wick. you eagerly open the door to let him in.

“john.” you greet, “come inside.” you invite him as you walk inside.

john doesn’t follow you and a confused expression takes your face, until you take a good look at him. for the first time, john wick doesn’t look wounded to you, his face and hands void of any blood, a new bulletproof suit adorning his body, a french one you notice but it still leaves you questioning things.

“i’m assuming france went successful.” you say.

“…it’s close.” he pauses before replying, seeming as if he’s finding the right words to say.

“what do you need?” you question.

“it’s winston. he’s been shot.” you freeze.

oh dear. you never really approved of the things he did but a soft spot was always present for him and charon. they helped you settle here in new york, but winston took you in even when he knew of your history with vincent. you swore to always help him in ways you could and now the opportunity presented itself.

the car sped down the street with you and john in tow. you hold your medical kit close to your lap, feeling uneasy with the thought of losing the old man. charon had been so recent and you don’t think you bear to lose the friends you’ve made along the way.

you glance at john and he looks calm and composed as usual, eerily so. a week earlier he was calm but you could feel his anger and determination simmering underneath his skin. now it looked like he was taking a walk in a park. you eye him carefully, uneasiness seeping in your stomach.

“did they give it to you?” you ask, he looks at you before clearing his throat.

“just an extension.” he answers, knowing exactly what you were referring to.

“to do what?” you ask again, john doesn’t budge and continues driving, ignoring your question. your eyes stay on him but he doesn’t look at you.

silence settles into the car and you lean back in your seat. you really wish your brought your gun with you right now. you don’t know why but you have a feeling that something is wrong right now, especially with john. he’s not telling you something.

or maybe it really is none of your business. perhaps he wanted to spare the bloody details of how he’s going to win his freedom back. you relax and try to forget the uneasiness, trying to remember that winston is the priority right now, you shut your eyes. all of your fears are gathering together and it’s making you overthink your interaction with john, everything’s okay.

the loud sound of drilling makes you open your eyes, you look at the window and you see a familiar street. 

the new york continental was being rebuilt.

your apprehensiveness returns.

“john?” you look at him once again, “who shot winston?”

“he got hit during the line of fire.” this time he replies.

bullshit. winston would have an emergency plan before the shooting started.

“in new york?” you press.

“yeah.”

another bullshit. you could see through his lies, he’s clearly fresh out of france. what was he trying to do? 

“j-john.” you voice shakes almost as if you’re begging. something happened in france, something that saved both winston and john.

he looks at you with regret in his eyes. not enough to save you for what’s about to come.

“where are you taking me?” you sputter, your heart beating fast in anxiety, “i’ve done nothing but help you, please don’t do this!”

“he took winston with him and he found out.” he quietly defends.

“please help me, i don’t want to go back!” you begin crying, tears rolling down your face, “he’ll kill me!” 

he makes no reply and continues driving. with no hope left with him, you try to open your side of the door. he immediately notices this and grabs your arm trying to stop you from leaving, you begin hitting him with your other arm.

you know that he doesn’t want to do this but it feels so unfair. you’ve saved his life only to throw yours away.

“let go of me!” you scream.

“i’m sorry.” 

you feel a prick in your neck.

you feel a heavy sensation pulling at your leg, your eyes feeling groggy still wanting to keep your lids closed. however the sensation persists and this forces you to open your eyes and sit up.

a dark room welcomes you, only a small lamp helping you take a small look of where you are. specifically, on a plush bed and a decorated room. your body feels heavy  from exhaustion which makes you lean back to the pillow behind you.

pondering what made you feel so tired when you haven’t done much for the night, you’ve sewn back together…a pair of assassins for the night? or was it three? two austrians and…who?a french? no…no..it was winston. 

that’s right.

wait.

only you didn’t treat winston.

you bolt up, your body seemingly sobers from the realization.

john brought you here in exchange for his freedom. 

you look around to see some sort of presence in the room but with the darkness it was hard to tell, nevertheless you hopped off the bed and bolted to the wooden door nearby. no wonder the place looked familiar, only the marquis would have a place as frivolous as this.

you need to leave right now. your hand reaches for the door until you find your body being slammed on the floor. a groan leaves your throat, in pain you massage your forehead and look around.

oh goodness.

a gasp leaves your mouth when you see a chain wrapped around your ankle, you inspect your foot before tracing the lines of chains, which were sourced on the thick foot of the bed you were on.

you tug it to check its strength and to see how long it actually goes. it was long enough to walk around the room but not long enough to reach the door. this is basically your fully furnished torture chamber. 

fuck. fuck. fuck.

a loud creak echoes through the room.

you really hate how things are right now.

he’s going to kill you. kill you for leaving him, how you easily made him look humiliated for being abandoned.

feeling your knees weaken you sit back on the bed and your hands shake in trepidation. the marquis’ simple presence made you scared of him, you felt tears falling down once again and you lowered your head, not wanting to look weak right now.

his footsteps are heard through the room, the door loudly closes shut, a thud echoing. he doesn’t say a word.

you feel everything leave your body. hope,freedom and life mostly.

he walks up to you until you see his shoes on the floor, a blurry sight entering your eyes due to the tears, he touches you, tilting your chin upwards and you do everything not to flinch. was he going to snap your neck?

you look at him and he still looks the same, slightly more mature.

but the same man you met a few years ago, if you jumped back into your rose tinted glasses, you’d probably see the vincent you cherished at some point if you weren’t so frightened right now.

he inspects you, his eyes wandering through your face. searching for something that’s supposed to be there, his lips part almost as if he’s about to say something but you beat him to it.

“i-i’m sorry. i’m sorry.” apologies spill out of your lips, wanting to take the chance of saving yourself, “i-i’m so sorry! i didn’t mean to.” you cry. your hand reaches up to his hand that held your chin and you grip it for mercy, his hold on you weakens.

he doesn’t say anything and leans forward to you. you need him to say something, anything, whether it meant he’d simply say he wants yuu dead.

“please forgive me, just please don’t kil-“ he cuts you off.

with a kiss.

not a firm one but a surprisingly soft kiss on your lips.

he takes your hands into his and fiddles with it, trying to find his place in them just like before, he halts the kiss and leans towards your face. the man right in front of you wasn’t the marquis, it was vincent. 

your vincent.

the one with soft eyes looking at you with relief and adoration. the gaze that looked at you as if you were the most precious thing on earth, he wipes the tears on your cheeks and the next thing he says dissolves all sense of worry out of you.

“i could never hurt you.” he whispers.

author’s note: this kinda doesn’t make sense bc im so braindead rn to expand things but basically vincent finds medic!reader through winston and in exchange for the continental and john’s freedom, john brings medic!reader back to vincent. so basically she got ratted out lolz. this would work better if i made a vincent pov would be fun but i have a bunch of prompts to work on…(tempting) + he literally chained her down to him (hshshsh marriage allegory…) i kinda want to be funky dynamic of obsessed man + “ngl what’s wrong with this guy but i vibe with it” woman