#either way i love getting to read lil things like that!!
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arbitrarykiwi · 2 days ago
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omfg i think i speak for everyone when i say we need more thanos and nam gyu boyfriend content bc OHMYGOD i need them i need them to pass ME like a blunt
Passed Around
omg uhhh..... YES??!!! there's just somethin about the idea of smoking with them and then getting absolutely RUINED by both of them. you would have to pull me out of a room with them by the back of my neck like a fucking DOG!!! I NEED BOAF EM SO BAYYYYDDDDD!!!! I hope you enjoy anon!!! <3
Warnings: smut (18+), bro..I took this and fucking ran with it omg, weed smoking, sex while high, threesome, oral (m and f receiving), they both eat you out at the same time, choking, squirting, multiple orgasms, recording sex (they both do it), missionary, doggy style, deep throating/ throat fucking, name calling (bitch, slut, whore) ((but they really mean it endearingly)) , facial, lil bit of cum play, spit, spanking, Thanos slaps you like once (not in a mean way), fuckeddumb! Reader, probably more, read at your own risk
If anyone comes across this that’s not familiar with my profile- first off hiiii!- second, this request bounces of a previous thangyu x reader request you can find here - it’s not needed to read it before this, just wanted to put it here if you wish to find more of my thangyu content :D
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If someone asked if you were lucky, you’d say yes without a doubt in your mind. And it’s all because of your two doting boyfriends!
Thanos and Nam-gyu were admittedly like night and day, they couldn’t be more different from each other- but that’s what makes them work so well! You got the best of both worlds.
You hardly could ever spend a moment alone, they always had to be by you. If they both weren’t there, one of them was. But thankfully tonight, you have both of them at your sides. You’re sandwiched in between them on Nam-gyu’s bed. A blunt is being passed between the three of you, the room smoky and only lit by the bright colors of the TV that blares the show you guys were watching. You think you guys are on your third or fourth blunt of the night- you weren’t sure they just kept rolling anytime one was finished, and you just kept smoking them.
You’re laid back against the headboard of Nam-gyu’s bed. Your hooded eyes watching the TV with a dazed expression. The warmth of their body’s only helping to relax you further than you already are.
They’re curled around you, Thanos was to your left, he had his arm slung around you, your head on his shoulder, one of his tattooed fingers playing with your hair. He’d alternate between stroking your hair or just having his hand slung over your shoulder, going under the collar of your shirt to grab at one of your breasts- it wasn’t even sexual, he just loved the feel of your tits in his hands. It calmed him down! At least that’s what he always told you.
Nam-gyu is lying on top of your stomach, legs entangled with yours. His cold hands are under your shirt, drawing random patterns against the skin of your stomach. Your hand is in his hair, twirling the black strands around your fingers. Anytime you’d poke his head to pas him the blunt, he’d remove his hands from under your shirt to reach up and take the blunt, hit it, then pass it back to Thanos- returning his hands to under your shirt. Following in Thanos’ footsteps as he’d reach his hand up to your other breast that Thanos wasn’t occupying and copy his movements.
And that’s how you guys stay for a bit as you smoked, Thanos and Nam-gyu would occasionally have a hand on one of your tits, removing themselves from you only to hit the blunt.
You were either too high, too entranced in the show on TV or in such a calm haze by their gentle touches and presence, or a mixture of all three- but you seem to miss the look your two boyfriends give each other. It’s a silent confirmation that they both want the same thing-you. There’s a hungry glint in both of their eyes as they stare at each other. Thanos nods, his grin widening as he nudges you with his arm that’s skin around your shoulder.
Thanos takes a long drag, sucking in the smoke, and holding it in for a moment. You think he’s trying to show you something, why else would he get your attention by nudging you like that? You also feel Nam-gyu twist his head against your stomach. You look down to find his chin resting against your flesh, looking up at you with red tinted eyes and a hazy smile, “Hi my baby.” You coo quickly, with a confused giggle, hand running over his hair making sure to acknowledge him- god forbid you give Thanos more attention than Nam-gyu.
You’re then quickly turning your face back to Thanos, trying to see what he wanted to show you. You watch him as he stares at you with his hooded eyes. He lets his breath go, the yellow-ish smoke is billowing out of his mouth. Your eyes widen, “ooohhh! It’s yellow, you guys picked up really good shit this time.” You praise, figuring that’s that he wanted to show you. But it wasn’t.
They both chuckle, Thanos passes the blunt to Nam-gyu, reaching over you and skipping your turn in the rotation completely. You’re pulled out of your stoned haze as you whip your head to look at Thanos accusatorially. “What the fuck?! You skipped me.” You pout looking over to Nam-gyu who smirks at you and hits the blunt, staring at you mockingly from his spot against your stomach.
The purple haired man to your left just laughs, leaning in and beginning to trail his nose up your neck, inhaling your scent. His hand, now free from the blunt runs up your stomach, over your chest, and up your neck to your jaw, turning your face back to him. “You don’t need to be hittin’ that Señorita, you’re gonna be busy.” He mumbles, a wicked grin on his face as he brings you closer to him, capturing your lips in his.
You sigh into it, it’s slow and full of tongue. You always hate how easily they can make you melt. Your lips move in sync, Thanos’ tattooed hands come to cup the sides of your face, pulling you impossibly closer. His tongue is exploring your mouth, tasting you for all you’re worth.
You let out a surprised sound that was akin to a squeak as from your right side, Nam-gyu’s hands are all over you, gripping at your waist as he pushes your shirt up to begin leaving open mouthed kisses on your stomach, the blunt hanging loosely between his fingers as he pushes himself upwards to begin to kiss along your neck as you continue kissing his purple haired counterpart part. Thanos is suddenly pulling away from the kiss, biting your bottom lip as he retreats. His hands push your face to your right and immediately Nam-gyu’s lips are on yours.
Any time they do something like this, pushing you or guiding you to the other when they’re finished- truly sharing you rather than competing with each other- it has you spinning. The contrast between Thanos’ desperate, rough kiss to Nam-gyu’s forceful and needy one already has you feeling hot and bothered.
Nam-gyu always kisses you so fervently, like you’re a dream that he never wants to wake up from. His hands are working up your waist to your breasts, kneading the soft flesh in his hands. Thanos hisses, feeling his cock harden as he watches you two make out, gritting his teeth and drawing in a shaky breath when he sees one of Nam-gyu’s hands remove itself from under your shirt and come up to grip at your throat as he pulls away from the kiss.
It’s an instant reaction when his grip tightens on your neck, you whine out desperately, eyebrows upturning and pupils blowing wide. You can hear the both of them chuckle. Nam-gyu is pulling you up, guiding you by your throat to a kneeling position. Thanos situates himself behind you, hands reaching up under your shirt, immediately beginning to pull at your perky nipples. Thankfully, you hardly ever wore a bra when you were with them- why would you? It just gets in the way more often than not.
“See… all it takes is me choking her and she gets so worked up f’us. ‘S like a lil on switch ain’t it?” Nam-gyu chides with a mocking tone, punctuating his words by squeezing your throat harder. It causes you to bite your lip, your body temperature sky rocketing, you can feel your pussy begin to throb. The pressure that’s added to your neck causes you to arch back into Thanos, pressing your ass back into him.
You hear Thanos chuckle darkly as he hooks his chin over one of your shoulders his hands dropping from your breasts to your hips, his fingers slipping below the waist band of your shorts- which were actually a pair of Nam-gyu’s boxers- to feel you against his palms entirely- he honestly wished you weren’t even wearing those stupid fucking boxers, they just get in the way. He’s pulling your ass back onto his hardening cock, “I know right…” he hums back in response to Nam-gyu who’s still using one hand to hold your throat while the other works to roughly grope at your breasts.
Thanos begins to grind his erection on your ass, you can only begin to breath heavier when you feel the thick heat of his cock begin to grow against your back. “Cute little thing just loves being man handled…” Thanos mocks into your ear. “Bet she’s already dripping just by us fondling her a bit, so easy…” he adds, you can hear the mocking pout in his voice although you can’t see his face.
Nam-gyu is staring at you like you’re an ancient greek statue of a long forgotten goddess that he wants to devote himself to and devour, and you can only imagine that Thanos facial expression is similar. “Of course she is…” Nam-gyu hums, his hand pulls away from your breast, pulling your nipple with as he does.
You bite down on your bottom lip harder, your eyes squeeze shut and you let out a soft moan. It makes both of them become infinitely harder. As Nam-gyu releases your nipple, Thanos is leaning further over your shoulder. They both watch hungrily as the flesh bounces back to your chest, jiggling a bit before settling back into place. “Why don’t you check? Check to see how wet her slutty pussy is just from us barely messin’ with her.” Thanos directs at Nam-gyu.
Thanos is pulling away quickly working to pull your (his) shirt over your head. When the shirt’s is thrown off to the side, Thanos’ hand replaces Nam-gyu’s on your throat, pulling you back into him. His mouth is on your neck, teeth biting into the flesh. His other tattooed hand is attaching to the swell of your breasts his thumb rubbing over your nipples before pinching.
At the same time one of Nam-gyu’s hands is gripping at your hip and the other is slipping his hand down into the waistband of the boxers you’re wearing. His hand molds to your pussy, letting out a low growl when he feels how wet you’re becoming.
“She’s fucking soaked…” he directs towards Thanos, you can tell by his voice that with his discovery, a new level of hunger is reached within the dark haired male. Nam-gyu moves his hand on your hip reaches up and pulls one of Thanos’ hand off your breasts, “outta my way.” He grumbles before his mouth is around your nipple.
Thanos is behind you, grumbling under his breath, his cock rutting into your back harder, “fuckin’ selfish.” He scolds Nam-gyu. He releases his hand on your throat to drop it to the breast that his counterpart wasn’t occupying, “yer already playin with her pussy, bro, c’mon.” He continues. It only makes your chest heave faster. Something about them fighting over you always made your heart and pussy flutter.
Nam-gyu’s mouth always was, and currently is relentless. He’s sucking your nipple into his mouth and moaning into your flesh like he’s in heaven. His fingers are practically finger painting with your arousal, smearing the syrupy liquid that is gushing out of you around your cunt and thighs. “Mhm…” Nam-gyu responds, mouth still attached to your breast. He pulls off with a wet pop, looking up to Thanos who was still leaning over your shoulder “And she’s soooo fuckin’ wet dude…such a messy fuckin’ pussy.” Nam-gyu teases, knowing it would only piss Thanos off that he wasn’t tasting or feeling your sweet cunt like Nam-gyu was.
Nam-gyu’s fingers worked magic, playing with your folds and coaxing more and more sweet and wetness to drip out of your cunt. He’s practically massaging your pussy, moaning into your tits as he savors the soft feeling of your soaking cunt on his fingers. You’re a panting mess against Thanos, soft moans beginning to slip through your lips.
“Oh fuck you…” Thanos seethes at Nam-gyu, taking his irritation out on you- squeezing harder at your breast and grinding his hard cock against your ass. “I can’t wait any longer. I needa taste ‘er.” Thanos growls, lightly shoving you forward into Nam-gyu as he begins to move out from behind you, scooting on his knees around the bed. “Finally somethin’ we agree on.” Nam-gyu scoffs with a laugh.
It’s a skillfully rehearsed set of movements, one they’ve done hundreds of times. Thanos pushes you forward, Nam-gyu pulls you into him, removing his hand out of the boxers you wore and pulling them down your thighs. The boxers you wore are thrown haphazardly across the room. The raven haired male is then pushing you back onto the bed, your head hits the pillows. Thanos soon joins Nam-gyu in front of you.
They each take one of your ankles in their hands. Their hands mirror each other as they slide down your legs. At this point you know you’re fucking drenched, it’s embarrassing really. And as they look down at you like two wolves ready to pounce on a fawn you’re whimpering eyes frantically darting between the two, not being able to figure out where to focus.
They’re pushing your thighs open, spreading you wide, your glistening cunt on full display for them. “Oh-ho…” Thanos chuckles, “you were right, pretty thing’s dripping for us..” his hand comes to cup your pussy, grinding his palm into your clit. He exhilerated by your sloppy state, your thighs and pubic bone covered in your own arousal thanks to Nam-gyu’s earlier work. “‘Gyu did a good job huh? His fingers feel good?” Thanos muses down to you, his tattooed middle finger beginning to trace around the outside of your cunt. You twitch against his hand, the way your pussy clenches with the minimal attention makes the both of him draw in sharp breaths.
“Mhm..” you whine out in response to Thanos your eyes trained on him as you bite your lip and nod, your hips canting up into his touch trying to get him to touch where you needed it. Your eyes dart over to Nam-gyu who’s licking his lips, hand gripping at your one of your inner thighs, thumb pulling your cunt open for them to see you better. “Made me feel so good.” You direct towards Nam-gyu. His yes look up to you, a soft smile spreading across his lips at the praise- in an instant the hungry, devious grin is back.
They seem to think the same thing, they’re both laying down on the bed, their faces becoming level with your cunt. Nam-gyu is the first to touch you again, his hand coming up to rest on your pubic bone, hand turning down, his thumb and pointer finger coming to spread you nice ‘n wide. It’s a beautiful sight, pretty pink cunt just drooling milky white arousal that spills down to your ass.
“Fucking Christ….” Thanos says with a wide grin, the hand around your thigh gripping harder, he’s looking at your pussy like it’s the million dollar jackpot at the casino or a free ounce of weed. “Perfect fucking cunt..” Nam-gyu muses, his eyes staring at your pussy hungrily, his fingers pinching together slightly causing you to whimper and arch into his touch.
“You needy, baby? Wan’ us to eat your pretty ‘lil pussy?” Thanos asks, you let out a breathless laugh, pushing yourself up on your elbows to look down at the perfect view below you. “F-fuck yes. P-please I need it. Need both of you…” You beg them desperately. They seem to look at each other for a moment before either agreeing your begging was good enough or they just couldn’t wait any longer.
The feeling of both their tongues meeting your cunt at the same time is exhilarating. They’ve done it plenty of times before but you’ve never gotten used to it. They both watch you out differently, leaving you with two different patterns lapping greedily at your pussy. Your hands are gripping the sheets of the bed beside you in a white-knuckled grip. The obscene sounds of your wet pussy and they’re slurping is sure to be heard through the walls of nam-gyu’s apartment.
They’re messy, unforgiving. Their tongues intertwine on top of your clit. Both pairs of lips wrapping around the bud. You can tell they’re just as fucked out as you are, their eyes peer up at you from between your legs, taking in every one of your reactions. It’s a view you always will think about, both of their faces buried deep in your cunt, noses bumping against your clit in alternate movements.
You’re crying out, stomach tensing. Fighting your head from falling back in ecstasy on the pillows, you really don’t want to look away from the two men who are slurping at your messy cunt like your arousal is the elixir of life. “H-holy f-fuck…” you gasp out, hips grinding up into their mouths. You can feel the vibrations of their laughs, it only sends more shocks of pleasure through your body. Thanos pulls away, leaning his face against your thigh, Nam-gyu wastes no time to fill in his place, his mouth engulfing you- tongue thrusting into your tight head.
“Mhm…” Thanos coos at you, his eyes trained on the way Nam-gyu messily tongue fucks you. “So fuckin messy…” he mocks, “you hear how loud your pussy is? Needed us so bad, huh, princess?” Thanos asks, Nam-gyu’s eyes open again and lock with yours, wanting to see your reaction. Your eyebrows are upturned, your pillowy lips wet and swollen, heaving breaths causing your breasts to jiggle with each exhale. “F-fuck ohmygod ‘Gyu..” you cry out, “y-yes needed you two so fuck- so fucking bad.” You finish.
Thanos is leaning back down, shoving Nam-Gyu to the side so he can get his own fill. Thanos is always so much more erratic than Nam-gyu. While Nam-Gyu eats you out like a dog lapping at water on a hot day, long, languid, deep strokes of his tongue trying to savor the taste of you, Thanos eats your cunt like a man starved. It’s fast paced, messy, and he’s all over you. He’s even pulling back to spit on your puffy cunt before going back in for seconds
Nam-gyu watches Thanos, his face wet by your arousal, “Such a whore…” he says, even with the harsh pet name, there’s an odd softness to his voice, he’s praising you. His hand reaching up to your face, his middle and ring finger pulling at your bottom lip. You knew what to do, your lips part sucking in his fingers. “Mhm…” he says nodding at you as your tongue swirls around his digits, the pads of his fingers pushing at your tongue, “so good f’us, smart girl knows what she needs to do….” He adds.
The purple haired rapper is pulling away from your cunt, your clit sucked into his lips as he does. You’re crying around Nam-Gyu’s fingers, eyes rolling back at the wet ‘pop’ that sounds through the room as Thanos releases your clit. ���We’ve trained her well.” He mumbles against your pussy. You’re shaking against the bed, whining around Nam-gyu’s fingers. His fingers pull themselves from your mouth, wet with your saliva. He’s quickly settling back down next to Thanos, his fingers beginning to play with your puffy cunt. Your head kicks back onto the pillow as you moan out a mix of both their names.
You can hear Thanos chuckle darkly and you’re weakly pulling your head off the pillow to look down. They both have their cheeks rested against one of your thighs, just staring at the way your cunt continuously gushes thick streams of your arousal, clenching impatiently. “Ya’ didn’t even have to wet your fingers…she’s already so fuckin wet…” Thanos hisses through grit teeth, like your pussy is the most delicious sight he could ever lay his eyes upon. “Just wanted your fingers in her throat you pervert.” He laughs, looking over to Nam-gyu with a wide grin.
“Can you blame me? You seen the way she looks at you with your cock shoved down her throat, ‘s the same look.” Nam-gyu scoffs, his fingers teasing your entrance. You’re trying to grind down into his fingers, wanting your cunt to finally be full but the weight of their heads on your thighs keeps you from moving.
They either seem to have come to the conclusion they teased you enough or have waited long enough because in a second Nam-gyu’s fingers are deep within your spongy walls and both their tongues were back on your clit. Your back arches off the bed, your head tilting heavenward as you let out a choked sob. They don’t ease you into it, no they’ve been fucking you- ruining you- for well over a year now they know you can take it. And with the weed coursing through their system their mind is only set on one thing and that is feeling you, tasting you, as you cum on their tongues.
It’s so fucking filthy, the sounds that come from in between your legs only turn you on more. Nam-gyu’s fingers are pistoning into your cunt, scissoring themselves inside you and reaching places you know your fingers never could. He knows you like the back of his hand, knows exactly where to curl his fingers to brush against that spongy spot inside you that makes you see stars. Nam-gyu pulls away from your cunt, his fingers never ceasing. Thanos wastes no time in shifting over the slightest bit to fully coat your throbbing clit with the soft, wet warmth of his tongue.
“Ya’ know how much of a slut you are?” Nam-gyu hums, dark eyes watching as his fingers disappear into your leaking hole, pushing out more of your arousal onto the bed and observing how Thanos’ lips suck on your clit, tongue playing with it in swiveling motions. “Letting two men eat your depraved cunt…” The black haired male chides. Your eyebrows are upturned, your wide eyes looking at him with a fucked out haze to them. You’re just nodding alone to his words dumbly, hips grinding down on his fingers as you let out choked ‘uh-huh!’s. “And you just love it.” His eyebrow quirks up when he feels you tighten at his words, “yeeeahhh you do…can feel you squeezing me pretty girl.” He muses, beginning to curl his fingers upward in a devine, fast paced curling motion that makes the wet ‘schlick, schlick, schlick” sound that comes from your cunt become even louder.
Thanos chuckled against your cunt, pulling off of you. Nam-gyu immediately takes his place, his fingers and mouth working at your raw pussy desperate to have you cum on his tongue. Thanos is sitting up and leaning over you, laughing when he sees how your head is tilted back and your eyes are screwed shut in ecstasy. He grips your chin, hard, yanking you to face him. Your eyes shoot open to look at him, your body jerking upwards with every harsh thrust of Nam-Gyu’s fingers. “Ohhhh….” Thanos lets out in a low hum, “you’re close aren’t you? Gonna cum f’us?” He asks.
You’re babbling incoherently at this point, the way Nam-gyu is sucking at your cunt as his fingers burry themselves deep in your twitching walls makes you not be able to even think straight. Thanos is laughing, his hand coming up to connect with the side of your face in a harsh slap. It wasn’t hard, it was enough to sting, and fuck, did it make your cunt throb. You can tell Nam-gyu feels it because he scoffs against your pussy, letting out a muffled ‘filthy fuckin slut’ against your puffy folds when he feels you tighten around his fingers when you’re slapped.
Thanos hand goes back to gripping your chin after the slap, shaking your head around in a degrading manner “Answer me sweetheart. We haven’t even fucked ya’ yet and you’re already acting like a brainless whore. C’mon now, tell ‘Gyu how good he’s doin’, gonna make you cum huh?” The purple haired man growls.
“F-fuck y-yes! Feels, oh shit, feels so fucking good, ‘m g-gonna, ohmygod.” Your eyes are fluttering back as the heat in your lower stomach grows almost painful, your words cut off by choked sobs, Thanos is reaching his free hand down to push on your lower stomach, a high-pitched squeal falling out of your lips as you’re hurled towards your orgasm.
“O-oh fuck! ‘m cumming! fuckfuckfuck!!” Your words are slurred and babbled, your eyes screwing shut as you’re cumming hard. You can hear the wet gush of your cunt spraying down Nam-Gyu’s hand, drenching the sheets below you, and he’s drinking you up for all your worth, practically sucking your orgasm out of you.
“Oho! There you go! Fuck you’re makin such a mess.” Thanos praises, eyes never straying from the view of you soaking Nam-gyu’s face. You’re thrashing against the bed, hips rutting into his face as he greedily swallows your cum. You have to reach a hand up and push at his head, his lips still wrapped around your clit even after your orgasm is over. When he pulls his face up you whine breathlessly- he’s covered. His face, neck, and chest are soaked with droplets of your arousal.
“Could fuckin’ eat your sweet pussy all day..” Nam-gyu says breathlessly as his dark eyes look down to see the mess he’s made of you. Your cunt is raw and puffy, coated in your arousal and cream they worked out of you. Nam-gyu is reaching into his back pocket with one hand and using the other to spread you open so he can see your pretty pussy entirely. His and comes back around, pulling out his phone and opening the camera to take a couple pictures of his artwork. You’re whining in protest- though you really love when they do that, you know they’re only ever shared between the two of them. Both of them have albums of pictures of you once they’re through with you- they have to have things to look at if you’re not around!!
You’re pretty sure they plan out every time they’re going to fuck you. It’s like they meet before and type out an itinerary of who gets to fuck your cunt when and who’s taking your throat. Like they plan a play by play so when it comes down to it they’re not wasting any time.
You see Nam-gyu typing and then hear Thanos phone go off a moment later. They’re both maneuvering back down to your cunt, tongues going back and enveloping your pussy. You cry out, entirely overstimulated at the moment but they have to clean you up!!
They’re pulling away from your cunt in a mess of spit and saliva, tongues hanging out like dogs panting. Thanos is looking at your fucked out form when Nam-gyu goes back in for seconds (thirds.), his lips wrapped around your clit and his tongue working against it. You’re moaning out broken syllables of their names, hips grinding against his tongue. Thanos looks down annoyed at Nam-gyu, obviously straying from whatever plan they had made up.
Thanos’ painted nails are tangling themselves into Nam-gyu’s hair, yanking him off your cunt roughly. You and the male between your thighs let out echoing moans. “Quit being greedy.” He scolds at Nam-gyu,
You’re still coming down from your orgasm as they bicker, you don’t think you could ever get used to the both of them eating you out at once. Your cunt is still leaking syrupy cum, a thick trail of the creamy arousal beginning to drop down to your ass. Nam-gyu fights against Thanos’ hold to drop back down and begin devouring the rest of your cum. He’s moaning in your pussy, the taste of your orgasm one of his worst addictions, he could never get enough and always needed a fix. Thank god you were a timely dealer!
He’s pulling away from your cunt and smirking, “Couldn’t let it go to waste, bro…’s a delicacy.” Nam-Gyu says turning back to Thanos with a shit eating grin. In no time, They’re crawing off the bed, ridding themselves of their pants and boxers, beginning to maneuver you expertly. Nam-gyu grabs a hold of your ankles, spinning you horizontally across the bed. Thanos is then gripping your wrists and pulling you towards him, your head hanging off the bed.
You’re looking at him upside down as his tattooed hand begins to fist his hard cock over your face, his other hand reaching down to slap one of your breasts sharply then grabbing at the flesh. You’re whining out looking up at him, his grin is nearly sadistic as you know what’s about to come next.
Since this arrangement has been going on for a long while now, they’ve come to have favorite positions for both of them to use you in. It was a long and arduous task to try and find the happy neutral ground. Hey! No one ever said having two boyfriends was easy work.
This position happened to be one they compromised on. Thanos loved seeing the imprint of his cock sliding in and out of your throat, he loved being able to choke you. And Nam-gyu loved nothing more than to be able to see your cunt stretched out around your cock and your tits bounce as he fucked you. And you? Well, you were getting absolutely destroyed by them either way so you were just happy they found something that they didn’t have to fight over.
You feel the bed shift under the weight of Nam-gyu crawling back onto the bed. He’s kneeling between your legs, hands reaching down to your hips to lift you up, your legs resting limply over his hips. You can feel the weight of his heavy cock against your stomach. His ring clad hands are running up and down your thighs.
“Been waiting for this all day…could never get enough of this tight cunt…” Nam-gyu growls, looking up to Thanos as he nods in agreement, his hips beginning to move back and forth to grind his cock in the mess that was spread around your cunt and pubic bone. The underside of his dick catching your clit with each motion.
“Best pussy and mouth out there, aren’t we lucky….” Thanos praises, eyes flicking down to you. He quirks up an amused eyebrow when he sees your desperate state, your mouth hung open nice and wide, already waiting for his cock. He releases your breast from his grip, Nam-gyu’s hands now sliding up your stomach to replace them.
Thanos’ hand that isn’t occupied by fisting his cock runs up to your neck, dragging a squeezed hand up the expanse of your throat. “What a greedy slut you are, beautiful..” Thanos mocks, “Just had two men devour your sloppy pussy and now you just can’t wait to get stuffed…”
“Wouldn’t be nice to keep her waiting, would it?” Nam-gyu hums, hand coming to splay itself on your pubic bone, thumb reaching down to flick at your clit. You can feel him begin to rub the leaking tip of his cock between your folds, a breathy falling from your lips.
“Yeahhh…” Thanos grins watching as Nam-gyu teases your cunt, “Wants it bad doesn’t she…” he continues, his thumb pinching at your pert nipple as he lowers his hefty cock to your face, you know exactly what to do. Your tongue lolls out of your mouth beginning to press open mouthed kisses down his thick shaft, lathing your tongue over the hot skin as you twitch against Nam-gyu.
Nam-gyu pushes the tip of his bulbous cock-head into your sopping walls, it’s a stretch you don’t think you could ever be prepared for no matter how many times he’s fucked you. You let out a cracked whine, the blissful fullness of his cock entering you being quickly ripped away as he pulls back out. Maybe it’s some kind of obscure fetish he had, but he loved just sinking his fat cock-head into your tight cunt, watching as you greedily suck him in and consume his tip in a wet, sopping warmth. He’s edging himself while edging you.
Thanos laughs as you moan out, head falling further off the bed as you throw it back in pleasure. “So mean…” he directs at the raven haired man who fucks you shallowly, “She jus’ wants to be stuffed and you’re teasing her..” Thanos says, you can tell he really doesn’t feel bad for you, in fact he likes watching as Nam-gyu rocks into your cunt, he loves being able to see your face twist into a contorted expression of bliss.
“‘M not stopping you from fucking her slutty mouth..fill ‘er up if she’s wants to be stuffed so bad..” Nam-gyu grunts, pulling all the way out and slapping his thick cock against your weeping cunt with a wet ‘plap plap plap’ before beginning to sink back into you.
And only a few moments later, stuffed you are. Thanos is balls deep in your throat, heavy balls hanging over your eyes as he slides his cock in and out of your tight throat. Your face, his balls, and anything in the vicinity is covered in your spit. It’s sloppy. Debauched. Hes thrusting into your throat without abandon, one of his hands coming down to caress your throat feeling the bulge of his thick cock slide down your esophagus. You’re helplessly gagging and moaning around him, fountains of spit bubbling out of your throat- making it all the more sloppy which only urges Thanos to fuck your throat harder. “Takin me so well…letting me use this fuckin’ throat.” He growls, “Can feel how fuckin’ deep I am ohmygod…” he’s hissing, his words punctuated by him grabbing your throat harder, his teeth clenched.
Nam-gyu finally sinks fully into you, wasting no time to begin thrusting into your sopping cunt. It’s damn near violent, every thrust jolting you forward, shoving Thanos’ cock deeper into your throat. All you can do is let out choked muffled moans. “‘Gyu makin’ you feel good, sweetheart?”
You let out a muffled ‘mhm! mhm!” The vibrations making Thanos stiffen. His hand grips harder at your throat, “easy, girl..fuck!…Fuckin do that and I’ll cum too quick” Thanos is growling, beginning to choke you with his hand as his cock stuffs your throat.
Between your legs Nam-gyu’s hips jackhammer into yours at a damn near evil pace. Your pussy is stretched impossibly wide, yet you still grip his thick length with a tightness that could fool him into thinking he’s never ruined your sweet cunt before. It’s one of the reasons he can never get enough. Anytime he draws his hips back a streak of milky-white coats his cock, forming a ring as the base of his dick anytime he slams back into you. He reaches so deep, filling your cunt until you’re moaning out mindlessly, though your sounds come out choked and garbled around Thanos’ cock that’s shoved in your mouth.
Thanos’ hand was still on your throat, his head kicked back as his hips thrust brutally into the tight cavern of your throat. Your tongue sliding along the top of his cock as his tip bullies its way down your throat. You’re gagging and spitting around his length, choked moaned muffled by the thick dick sliding up and down your throat. “F-fuck.” He stutters out in a breathless laugh, a blissful grin stretched across his lips. “Such a good cock sucker, so fuckin sloppy.” He says pulling all the way out of your throat with a sickening wet sound. You’re gasping for air, a messy string of spit coming out of your mouth and connecting your mouth to the tip of his throbbing cock. His hand releases his harsh grip on your throat, hand moving up and down the expanse of your neck in a soothing motion. “Look at you Señorita…” he says in a proud tone, “such a beautiful sight..” he hums.
You then watch from an upside down view as he fumbles for his phone that was on the ground. You se him unlock it and presumably go to the camera app. He comes back closer to you, resting his heavy cock on your face. Your suspicions are proved correct when the flash of his camera flicks on, you only get impossibly righter- clenching around Nam-gyu who lets out a choked, “slut loves to be filmed”
Thanos is pointing the phone down at you as he slides his cock past your pillowy lips. He watches through the phone screen as he sinks deeper into your mouth, you’re gagging around him as he begins to push past the tight ring of your throat. “Mhm…” he mumbles to himself, eyes trained on the bulge that begins to show in your throat on the image displayed on his phone. His hand is back on your throat, squeezing it before trailing down, his phone camera following his movements. He leans over you, his cock sinking deeper into your throat. His hand grips at your tits that bounce with Nam-gyu’s thrusts. He then pans the camera up, catching how Nam-gyu fucks into your cunt.
The corner of Nam-gyu’s bottom lip is caught in his teeth, one of his hands is around your hip, holding you up slightly as he thrusts into you, the other is reaching up to take his hair back and out of his face before dropping back down to his side. The wet sound of skin slapping on skin is resounding through the room, most certainly being picked up by the camera recording you three. Thanos cannot deny how fucking hot the view is that the phone camera captures. He watches on through the screen as Nam-gyu reaches his free up and begins to play with your clit. You sob out in pleasure round Thanos’ cock. The vibrations cause him to nearly fall over, he has to stop his recording abruptly- throwing his phone to the side before pulling out of your throat.
“C’mon man I gotta fuck her cunt.” Thanos nearly begs Nam-gyu. Nam-gyu thrusts into your pussy once more, sinking balls deep in you, wanting to hear you cry out for him without Thanos’ cock muffling the sounds. And that you do, it’s a choked, wracked whine, it’s a cute sound that has both of them groaning in response. Nam-gyu is pulling out of you, looking down to see how your cunt holds the shape of his tick cock for a second before desperately clenching around nothing. “Fine, fine….i wanna feel her choke on my cock too anyway.” The longer haired male is scoffing.
Once again, they’re moving you with a swiftness that leaves you no time to process what position you’re in until you feel the tips of their cocks touch you. You’re on all fours, back arched so prettily. Thanos is behind you painted nails digging into the flesh of your ass as he rocks his dick against you. Nam-gyu is in front of you, one hand gripping the base of his cock as he runs his leaking tip against your lips- smearing his pre-cum on your lips like a new personalized lipgloss- his other hand gripping your hair into a makeshift ponytail.
In tandem they’re sinking back inside you. Your moans muffled by Nam-gyu’s cock. Despite being stretched out by Nam-gyu fucking you previously, you’re were still gripping down on Thanos’ cock like a vice. His hips are drawing back, watching the way your cunt sucks him back into your tight walls. Your eyes look up at Nam-gyu his head tilted back and his mouth hung open singing praises of your name as your tongue swirled around him.
“Still so fuckin’ tight…” Thanos growls, his hips slapping into your ass violently, his painted nails leaving crescent moon shaped imprints in the far of your ass. One of his hands releases its grip to smack your ass, it’s hard and painful, making you sob out and choke around Nam-gyu’s cock. “Dirty fuckin’ bitch.” The male in front of you growls, feeling your moans around his dick when Thanos spanks you. It’s resounding through your head as deep rumble that only makes your eyes roll into the back of your skull.
“Creamin’ all over my fuckin’ cock.” You hear Thanos growl from above you, his thrust becoming rougher, jolting you forward and further down Nam-Gyu’s cock. You feel one of Thanos’ hand grip at one of the globes of your ass, pushing up and spreading you so he can see the mess that is your pussy. Anytime he draws his hips back, sticky strings of your thick arousal coat his thighs and pelvis, dripping down to his heavy balls that slap against your clit with every mind numbing thrust. “Just love getting ruined by two fuckin’ cocks, don’t’cha pretty girl?” Thanos says, and you feel him spit downwards, the warm saliva dripping down the valley of your ass and mixing with the mess between your thighs as he pile drives into you.
Nam-gyu’s hand that holds your tightens, a signal for you to respond. You let out a muffled ‘mhm!’ your eyes fluttering closed and screwing shut as you feel yourself about to cum. Every time Thanos thrusts into you the fat tip of his cock brutally fucks into your g-spot. “Oh you’re close…fuckin milkin’ me” Thanos growls lowly, your eyes are welling with tears at this point. Thanos looks up at the black haired male in front of him, “she already squirted and she still wants to cum again…how fuckin’ greedy.. makin’ us do all the work.” He finishes, one of his hands reaching diagonally across your back to grip at your ass.
“You’re right..” Nam-gyu responds, pushing your mouth impossibly deeper down his shaft, your tongue lapping at his balls. “Make her to the work this time…” And you can hear the smirk in his voice.
Thanos nods in response, his hand coming down to slap your ass, “You heard him. Work for it.” He hisses. “Wanna cum so bad? Fuck yourself on my cock like the slut you are.” The purple haired male finishes in a deep rasp from behind you.
You can do nothing but obey, lest you don’t want to cum. You’re grinding back onto him, looking up at Nam-Gyu as he releases the make shift ponytail he has your hair in and begins to cradle your face in both his hands, “C’mon you can do better than that….” Nam-gyu says lowly, looking down at you, beginning to fuck his cock down your throat, “Don’t you wanna cum? You’re not actin’ like it…” he says, you know it’s a threat.
You begin to fuck your self back onto the purple hairs man behind you, a loud ‘slap’ of wet skin resounds through the room every time your ass connects to the fronts of his thighs, the flesh recoiling against his skin. “That’s it. F-fuck.” Thanos hisses out, his hand on your ass moving with the flesh that jiggles each time you sink him balls deep, “Look at that fuckin’ ass…” he grumbles in a low voice, more to himself than anyone, but Nam-Gyu hums in approval as he watches on, low moans of praise falling from his lips as you suck him down eagerly, moaning around him with more ferocity.
“Yeah…you’re gonna cum, can fuckin feel it, go on make a mess f’me, pretty girl.” Thanos says, his hand wrapping around you to play with your throbbing clit in erratic circles. The stimulation immediately throws you over the edge, you’re clenching down on Thanos’ cock so hard it stills his movements. Nam-Gyu pulls out of your throat, his hand fisting his cock as you gasp, catching your breath. Immediately you’re moaning and whining out, your hips are simultaneously thrusting back onto the thick length in sloppy motions and trying to bring your clit into his fingers.
You’re orgasm sprays out of you in a violent fountain, and Thanos adjusts his hands to grip both of your hips, brutally pulling you back against him and fucking your cum out of you in gushing spurts. You’re sobbing out a mix of their names, babbled and choked as you see stars. Your breath is heaving, you would have fallen down if it wasn’t for the both of them reaching down to hold you up.
And as fucked out as you are, overstimulated beyond belief- you can only think of the fact they have yet to cum. You look at them desperately, like it’s the one thing you truly need to be satisfied after all this. Your adrenaline keeps you coherent enough to keep wanting more. You wouldn’t be satiated until you felt them cum on you or in you- you never were.
They’re working together to pull you off the bed and you follow excitedly, being this position all too many times- it was one of your favorites. As you situate yourself on your knees in front of them and look up at them teary eyed and fucked out- hair matted and sticking to your face and lips swollen from taking both of them in your mouth- they’re fisting their cocks over you, singing praises of your form as you kneel below them.
“So fuckin pretty, cryin’ f’us.” Nam-gyu grunts out, squeezing the tip of his throbbing cock before working to fist the rest of his length. “Such a good girl…knew just what to do…” Thanos mumbles, his words broken by a moan, “fuck…look at you kneelin’ like the good whore ya are.” He finishes. You’re addicted to the way both their fists work furiously against their cocks, each having their own rhythm and particular way of doing it.
“Gonna be a good girl and let us paint y’er face?” Nam-Gyu says, quirking an eyebrow up at you. When you nod and part your lips, sticking out your tongue they both groan. “F-fuck you look so good, wanna record this.” Thanos grunts, Nam-gyu seems to have the same idea as they’re both reaching over and grabbing their phones that were scattered about the bed. They’re quickly returning in front of you, looming over you as they work their hands along their cocks above you.
You look up at them, your face stained with tears, eyes red, puffy and covered in mascara- but you still eagerly await what they’re gonna give you with your tongue out. Your eyes are squinting against the harsh light of the flash from both your phones. It should make you embarrassed that you’re letting them record you in this state but you’re not- you love it.
“Yeeeahhh….” Thanos growls, his hand fisting his cock rapidly, “that’s it pretty girl, you look so fuckin good.” He praises, his voice becoming shaky. You look over to Nam-Gyu who is obviously just as close to cumming, his hand jerking his thick length, using your spit as lube. “Gonna look so fuckin’ good covered in our cum, princess.” Nam-Gyu is hissing out.
You nod, moaning out, wanting nothing more than to be painted by the both of them. Thanos kicks his head back, moaning out your name in a low hiss, his cum beginning to fall to your face in pearly white ropes. Nam-gyu is right behind him, phone in his hand shaking slightly as he jerks his cock over your face.
You can feel the alternating ropes of their warm cum covering your face. Your eyes shutting as you collect what you could on your tongue. You feel a large drop land on one of your eyelids, thankful you closed your eyes, but something about the raunchiness of it just makes you sigh out.
They’re both stepping forward, placing the tips of their cocks on your tongue. Like the good girl you are, you’re eagerly cleaning them up. Tongue rolling between the two thick cocks and taking them into your mouth, you open your one eye- looking up to the camera as you make more of a show of stretching your mouth around the both of them, sucking them both dry.
They’re ending the video and throwing their phones to the ground almost simultaneously, their chests heaving with heavy breaths. When they tilt their heads back down to look at the mess they made, you’re swiping a finger across your face to collect the mix of their cum and suck it off your fingers. You smile up innocently at them and they both groan, smiling down at you.
Nam-Gyu is picking you up off the floor like you’re a rag doll, “you’re gonna be the death of us” he chuckles. He’s throwing you onto his bed and you bounce softly on the plush mattress letting out a giggle. You didn’t even realize Thanos had stepped away until he’s hovering over your face from the side of the bed and wiping you clean with a cool towel.
You can help but giggle and smile as he does it. It’s so odd, they just fucked you like a whore and now they’re doting on you. Nam-gyu is filling up your water bottle that you kept on the bedside table and begging to roll another blunt while Thanos is trying to fight your giggles to keep you still enough to clean you. Something he knows you love after being so completely ruined, it allows you to relax.
They really were the best boyfriends. You really don’t know what you’d do without them and you’re glad that you’re able to see the two varying sides of the both of them.
Buut…They never fail to remind you of their other side of them, the raunchy personalities that originally drew you towards them. Like days later with your out to dinner with your friends and you see they both send a couple videos in your group chat, and you open it unexpectedly to see the most sinful pictures and videos- trying desperately to shield the very obvious image that blares across your screen.
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Up next on requests I got another thangyu non-squid games request focused on silky dynamics of the relationship
After that is more thangyu with thick!reader smut. Including double penetration n thick thigh love!
3rd in line we have a namgyu smut with naive! / innocent! Reader >:)
4th we got a new ask for a dead beat baby daddy! Namgyu x reader smut involving hate fucking
As always thank you all for reading and requesting! It’s always so much fun getting to interact with you guys and write them!!! - love always <3 kiwi
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tvrningout-a · 1 year ago
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upon his prompting, chiyo looks at the cigarette between her fingers for a beat before placing it between her lips. she doesn't inhale yet, though. she's too lost in thought ( and a little scared she'll cough up a lung. do you really just... breathe in? ).
she smiles and dodges and pretends, but anxiety rises in her chest only to be stubbornly pushed back down. niko is smart, and he knows her -- chiyo realizes that means her usual deflections and white lies will be a little harder to sell. her mask, the one that never reveals the more difficult parts of herself, might be harder to wear in front of him. but chiyo's been this way for years. there's a reason for that ( she's good at this, at being polite with her struggles; she's bad at this, at being vulnerable with her loved ones ).
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pushing those thoughts away, chiyo snorts, taking niko's hand and pulling herself up. she doesn't let go right away ( the contact is a comfort, even if he's the reason she's nervous ). " i swear there's nothin' all that juicy or as funny as the naruto-run. might be boring, listening to me... but it's fine if we're together, right? " her tone becomes teasing, a grin upon her face, but chiyo means it ( to be cheesy is to be honest in a low-risk way, so she thinks ). slowly, some might say reluctantly, her hand slips from niko's as she heads for the sidewalk and finally takes a slow, deep puff of his cigarette... chiyo chokes and coughs and promptly gives the pesky little thing back to niko. that was a mistake.
the pizza place isn't busy when they get there, which isn't a surprise, considering the hour. it's nice, though, because it almost feels like they're alone. the cashier and cooks are too busy with closing duties to pay them any mind while they enjoy their pizza. it helps chiyo feel a little more at ease.
" so... since i'm being honest here, i'll come out and say it: veggie pizza's the best, and i hate eating the crust. " her smile is back, the one that's easy and contagious and distracting. " oh, and i think pineapple pizza's an abomination, of course. "
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"ya sure? people are always quick to say that & then it turns out, they're hidin' more from ya than ya would think." almost absentmindedly would those words spill from his lips, deep blue gaze racing with the stars that adorned the dark sky. (just like the one in your heart.) a voice . . . a voice?! that wasn't chiyo, was it? suspiciously had he jumped in his seat, turning his head to where the woman was sat; his own lit cigarette stolen from him whilst she grinned. no. it was something else. that thing that kept him sleepless on nights like these. perhaps, keeping secrets from one another was better. it would keep her safe. strained facial features relaxed somewhat as one of his large hands reached for her, fingers messing with loose strands of hair. "sure, but ya maybe wanna smoke that one if ya steal it. otherwise, a good cigarette will go to waste. "
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it was said half-jokingly, though, really . . . cigarettes were expensive. "i can handle ya bein' cheesy just fine." a groan could be heard once he heaved himself up from the swing, adjusting the hood so he could hold her gaze. "i mean, ya saw me doin' stupid anime shit when we were kids . . . naruto-runnin' down the school yard is beyond bein' cheesy, don't cha think?" lost within own thoughts of childhood glee, the male kicked a pebble laying next to his shoe as he let his gaze fall to the ground. "so, let's go 'fore they close . . . " trailing off, a hand held out for her to take with a smug grin to match his attitude. "don't want to miss ya spillin' your heart out for me."
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todayisafridaynight · 2 years ago
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i feel like the hello kitty doesnt do xanax post whenever i check the minedai tag on ao3 what is the obsession with piss im in agony
why did you just read my mind jesus fucking christ get out of my head youre so right tho this is so accurate and i feel this every day of my life and i feel insane and like im the one perceiving them weirdly so thank you anon for letting me know that im normal
#snap chats#NEGATIVE RANT BELOW IM SORRYYYY IM A LIL BIT OF A HATER#NO BUT PLEAAASEE I WAS JUST CRYING ABOUT THIS#not literally ofc but we know what i mean#minedai is technically one of the top five most popular pairings in rgg but like...#To Me- maybe im just picky and a party pooper- its just.. never done.. right?#i dont want to say right- the point of fiction is to have fun and yk be creative#and theres no right or wrong way to enjoy a thing and express your love for A Thing#//turning o my megaphone// HOW FUCKING EVER#it just feels so seldom with minedai stuff that it actually feels... like them?#and thats not even mentioning the collection of really-specific kinks it attracts for whatever reason#it might just be because compared to more popular ships I Will Not Name So I Dont Put This Post In The Tag#theres a lot more fanworks right. but with minedai its like. it feels like twenty people in a basement#and 3/4 of the people in the basement just have this vibe with each other that you dont get at all#probably hotboxing the place and you dont smoke so youre just awkwardly siting there with your facemask#TRYING to follow along but youre ultimately just like Whats Going On. Im Scared. Mom Pick Me Up#im not going to act like im perfect either tho- with drawing mine and daigo so much sometimes i do botch their characters a bit#trying to get better at that im making it a thing where i have to reread their rggo stories frequently just so i dont forget#maybe ill make a list or somethign... <- normal people behavior#regardless. all of THAT aside. i wish i could read more minedai fics#but the thing is just most of the recent works are just not for me. and its not that those works are for SOMEONE#but for mates like you and me anon we just have to get in the kitchen. only problem is i suck at writing SOOO#UGH thats my monthly minedai rant i guess LMAO i always feel bad bout these rants#but i also cant act like i like the fandom's version of minedai.. or at least. ao3's version of minedai#twitter's version of minedai..#bestie and i talk about it a lot we're just so confused how so many people can just. interpret these two SO differently yk what i mean#like again most of the works we see it never feels like mine and daigo it just feels like some AU versions of them#and again i dont reject interpretations of characters or HCs or whatnot again Its Fiction its not that deep#but it just feels so removed from the source yk. like when im looking for minedai i wanna see stuff that makes me go#'aw hell yeah that adds up. that lines up.' its why whenever i DO see stuff like that i go insane and bookmark it
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frenchkisstheabyss · 4 months ago
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♡ Softer, Softest ♡
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♡ Pairing: mafia!boss!san x stripper!chubby!fem!reader
♡ Genre: smut/angst/fluff
♡ Summary: A fun night of stripping takes a turn when an encounter with a particularly unpleasant customer leaves you in tears, running to your boss seeking comfort and protection. Both things he’s more than willing to give.
♡ Word Count: 3.6k-ish
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♡ Warnings: explores themes of body insecurities, reader has her arm grabbed (nothing violent but brutal violence against the person who grabbed it), mentions of blood/injuries (not yours, babes), kissing, heavy body worship, san’s obsessed with you, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), clit sucking, nipple pinching, a lil manhandling, hair pulling, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, low key mirror sex, pet names (baby, pretty).
♡ A/N: Hello my loves, I wrote this little fic for any of my chubby darlings out there who might not know or might need reminding that their bodies are gorgeous, worth loving, and desirable. I also really love myself a hot criminal and who better than San? K, let me shut up now. Just know I love you. Your body’s amazing. Never forget that ❤️
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Midnight. Friday. The back alley of a strip club. The best in town. The strip club, not the alley. It’s a dark, starless night. The smell of fresh rain hangs in the air, the aftermath of a sudden downpour that left the ground slick with rain. Music from inside the club bleeds through the cracks of a heavy steel door. A neon red EXIT sign hangs overhead. The door creaks on its hinges as it swings open, sending the music blaring out into the night and with it comes a body. The blur of one at first, flying through the air, and then the weight of it. The heavy thud of bruised flesh and cracked bone colliding with the asphalt. 
The man on the ground is unremarkable, nothing about him worth noting except the mangled nose that gushes blood down his face, leaking into the cavernous gash that is his busted lip. He said the wrong thing to the wrong person and now he can’t speak at all, only mumble. A brushed leather Dolce and Gabbana shoe collides with his cheek. His blood splashes scarlet against the pitch black soles, a horrible crack emitting from his jaw as more pressure’s applied. Now this man? He’s remarkable. He’s muscular, defined in every way so that, even through his black dress shirt, you can read the broadness of his shoulders. His features are sharp and intense. The kind you either fall for or fall victim to. There’s no in between. He’s a handsome devil but a devil all the same. 
“You look like shit” San sighs, effortlessly kicking the man onto his back. He rolls his sleeves up, kneeling beside the man like a hunter inspecting its fallen prey. He stares down at him, emotionless, void of anything close to that thing we call remorse.  
The man heaves in a breath of air before coughing it back out. “Mmm s-s-sorry” he croaks, “I didn’t know she was anyone fucking special.” 
San grips the man’s face, grinning in a way that isn’t the least bit friendly. He squeezes tightly, forcing jagged teeth to press into the soft flesh of the man’s cheeks. “Well now you do.”
This is your boss and you, tucked away safe and warm in his office, are something special. But a part of you knew this already. You downplay it when the other girls point it out. You pretend not to notice the clear signs of favoritism but they’re there in even the smallest interaction between the two of you. Since day one San’s been your protector, your admirer. You’ve denied it a million times, convincing yourself you’re simply making more of things than what’s there. Still, after everything happened you couldn’t fathom running into the arms of anyone else. 
You were dancing like any other night—working your section and getting your tips—when some asshole grabbed you by the arm, demanding your presence in one of the private rooms. Usually you could count on security to drag him out but on weekends the club gets packed and things slip through the cracks. Sadly tonight you were one of them so, like a proper lady, you told him to kiss your ass and sent the tip of your stiletto crashing into his balls. You might be a stripper but that doesn’t mean you’re some thing that men can treat however they wish. It’s a lesson he had to learn the hard way and you were happy to teach it to him. Two shots past drunk and embarrassed by your rejection he snapped, spewing the most vile things you’ve ever heard about yourself—about your body. 
It isn’t news to you that you’re one of the bigger girls here. San says that’s what makes you special, why customers come in to blow a check on you and you alone. He’s right, your bank account says so. The customers love you, they eat up every inch of your plush body. By all means you should feel like the baddest bitch in this building, simply because you are, but in that moment his words had reduced you to nothing. A few seconds ago you were twirling around the pole like a goddess now you found yourself scurrying back to the dressing room with tears in your eyes. 
At least that’s where you intended to go. Somewhere along the way you changed course, riding the velvet lined elevator to the third floor where San’s office sits at the end of a long hallway. At the time you hadn’t considered how much this might escalate the situation because, quite honestly, you didn’t care. More than feeling hurt, you were pissed the fuck off. Your tears were of anger and, whether you felt it at the time or not, you wanted that motherfucker to pay for it. 
This place you work at. There’s more to it than what’s on the surface. It’s easy to get so distracted by the luxury and the lights and the pretty girls dancing that you miss the truth of it all. In fact, that’s the point, but you know a mafia front when you see one. You aren’t oblivious. You know what this is, who San is, and maybe that’s exactly why you were tapping at his door. A damsel in distress in black lace lingerie.
San’s heart dropped when he saw his favorite girl in tears. He stopped everything, sending his men away so he could place all of his focus on you. Resting his jacket over your shoulders, he gently cradled your cheeks, brushing the tears away to ask quite simply, “Who did it?” 
You explained everything, how that asshole grabbed you and the things he said, and San’s anger grew quietly, simmering beneath a surface of calm. He took a seat at his desk, setting you down comfortably in his lap, and pulled up the security cameras. “Tell me when you see him, okay, baby?” he instructed sweetly, his palm massaging the smoothness of your thigh.
You nodded, struggling to focus on the screen with his hand on your thigh and him calling you “baby”. San touching you wasn’t a rare occasion but it was always something light. A hand on the small of your back or fingertips grazing your arm. Never this purposeful—this intimate. You couldn’t help imagining how it might feel if he gripped a little harder, moved a little higher. You felt your heart begin to race, your temperature rising the longer you sat there in his lap.
“That’s him” you sniffled, spotting that familiar face on the screen. San studied the screen a moment before turning back to you. “I’ll take care of it” he promised, his hand riding your thigh and coming to rest at the gentle curve of your hip. “And no more crying, baby. You’re too pretty to cry.” Too pretty to cry? Oh, but you were crying, absolutely weeping, only between your thighs this time. 
San disappeared from the office, leaving you too lost in the lingering haze of his touch to even think about your insecurities, but that only lasted so long. Alone in the quiet of his office, the self doubt began to creep back in. You tried to distract yourself by exploring your surroundings—the impressive collection of vintage whiskey, the gorgeously framed art hanging from the walls—but nothing could distract you from how uncomfortable you’d become in your own skin. It didn’t help that the office was lined with mirrors, reflecting glimpses of your figure with every turn.
At last out of distractions, you turn to face the mirrored image of yourself, letting San’s jacket slip to the floor. You strike a pose, a half hearted copy of something cute you might do on stage, and watch the way the fat of your body squishes together here or there. You strike another then another then another but they’re there in every pose. Your face, your belly, your sides, your thighs. Your weight shows in all of them. Pinching your lower belly you think of how the other girls have had work done. Maybe if you got some done yourself…
“I left him out back. Clean him up before someone sees” San says, pushing through the door, his phone pressed to his ear. 
You jump a bit at his arrival, scrambling to grab the jacket, but San slips in behind you, closing his arms around your waist before you can retrieve your safety blanket. You tense at first but find yourself settling into his embrace as if it’s the most natural place for you to be. 
“So, what was that?” he asks, resting his chin on your shoulder. His breath tickles your neck as he inhales your perfume and the sweet scent of honey and jasmine fills his lungs. You smell as beautiful as you are, as beautiful as everything about you is. 
“How’d everything go?” you press, quick to change the subject. Noticing a series of tiny red scrapes on the knuckles of his right hand, you carefully take it into yours, assessing the damage. 
San shrugs it off like it’s nothing. It still stings but it’s far from the worst pain he’s ever felt. “I said I’d take care of it. It’s been taken care of.” 
You giggle at the contrast of something so menacing being spoken by someone so regal. “San, you make it sound like you killed him.” 
He leans into your neck, his lips grazing your skin on their way up to your ear. You shiver at the contact and his hold on you tightens, your bodies pressed flush against each other so that you can feel his bulge pressed into the plush of your ass. 
“Killed him? Almost” he whispers, “I answered your question so it’s only fair you answer mine, isn’t it? What were you doing? I came in and you were…” San pinches your belly, his fingertips planting adoration where there was once doubt. 
“I…uh…I was…” you stutter, searching your brain for a believable lie but you can’t find a single one.“There’s this doctor, a few of the girls have gone to him to get some work done, and I was just thinking, I don’t know, maybe...why am I even telling you this? You don’t care and anyway, it’s silly.”
“It is silly” he agrees, notes of that quiet, controlled anger you witnessed earlier resurfacing, “But you’re wrong to say that I don’t care. I care about how you feel about yourself, I care about you. You must know that.”
“I mean, I know you care about me. You care about all of the girls” you say, hesitant to accept this as a profession of anything in particular. 
San spins you around, pinning you between the warmth of his body and the cool mahogany of the desk. “I don’t care for any other woman the way I do you.” 
There it is, a profession of something very particular. He’d hoped that you’d seen it by now. He wonders if he didn’t do a good enough job of showing you. It’s been so long before you, years even, that he had feelings like this for anyone. The world he operates in doesn’t allow for soft spots. Soft spots are how you make mistakes and when mistakes are life or death you can’t afford to make them but he couldn’t help himself with you. You caught his eye the day you walked in for your audition and you’re all he’s been able to see since. You’re so delicate, so beautiful, a perfect contrast to the toughness of his life. It’s why he protects you—why he always will. 
“Your body…” he says, his palms racing up and down your curves, “It’s perfect. There’s nothing about it that needs fixing. If you let that doctor touch you I’ll break both of his hands.” San’s gaze is heavy with lust, months of longing just begging to be satisfied. It burns him up inside, sets fire to his very being, and being kissed by the flames of that need is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. 
“Is that the way you romance women? With threats of violence?” you tease, draping your arms across his shoulders.
“Sometimes but usually it’s like this” he whispers, pressing his lips to yours. His tongue parts your lips, twining around yours to deepen the kiss. His movements are careful and deliberate. The kiss intoxicatingly slow. 
San grabs you by the hips, lifting you onto the desk and you let out a little squeak of surprise as he sets you down. “You’re so fucking cute” he grins, spreading your thighs to fit perfectly between them. 
“You think so?” you say so innocently it only makes him want to ravage you more. 
Tangling his fingers in your hair, he tilts your head to look back at the mirror, “Don’t you?” 
An unexpected wetness soaks the lace of your panties at the sight of your shared reflection. Nothing has changed about your body. It’s the same one you were picking apart, the same one you were doubting, and San loves everything about it. He praises it with his hands, with his fingertips, with whispered confessions of everything your body needs to hear. 
”I watch you sometimes when you’re dancing” he says, effortlessly doing away with your bra, “I know I shouldn’t but I can’t help myself when you look the way you do. It’s like you’ve put a spell on me. My little witch.”
San captures one of your breasts, kneading the plump flesh in the palm of his hand. He pinches your bud between his fingers, tugging at it just enough to make your breath catch in your throat. 
“But I don’t have any magic” you whimper, tugging at the buttons of his shirt. They pop open one by one, revealing a body that had to be sculpted by some divine feminine deity. You push the fabric away, your fingertips delighting in the perfection of her creation. 
San’s free hand reaches between you, stroking your clit through your panties. He groans at how soaked you are, your juices leaking through the lace to coat his fingers in your juices. “You do have magic, baby” he whispers, tucking your panties to the side, “It’s right here.”
“Aah, Sannie” you moan, your hands sliding down his abs as his fingers stretch you open. 
Your body falls back, a sharp chill coursing through you as your bare back hits the desk. San sinks his fingers deeper into your core, his cock stiffening at the sight of your body moving as hypnotically as it does on the pole. Only now it’s for him and only him. This is how San likes it, how he’s always wanted it to be. Him with his fingers buried deep into the warmth of your pussy, your walls greedily clenching around them, and you spread out across his desk, your gorgeous body on full display and your lips spilling out moans meant for his ears alone. 
Kneeling between your legs he pulls your panties aside harder this time, nearly tearing the fabric as he knots it in his fist. He brings his thumb to your clit, toying with it just to see how your body twitches with every touch. “How can a girl be this perfect?” he says, nearly salivating, “Even your pussy’s gorgeous.” There’s an audible wet sound, another sweet whimper escaping your throat, as his fingers slip out of your core and his tongue takes its place.
“San, wait…” you beg, grabbing at his hair, but you’re too late. Your attempt at pacing yourself is useless. His tongue’s already filling the space between your walls, wiggling and curling against your sweet spot. His dark hair knots around your fingers, your hips raising to ride every wave his tongue sends washing over you. 
San drags his tongue up through your petal soft folds, swirling it around your clit before diving into you again. He suckles at your clit, gently at first then faster, more ravenous. His gaze flicks up to you, taking in the way your belly jiggles and your breasts bounce. He’s drunk on your juices, already addicted to the way you coat his tongue. You taste like heaven and look like it too. It takes all of the self control he has to pry his mouth free of your pussy, snatching your panties down as he does. 
Standing back up, he grips your thighs, spreading you open to watch the arousal drip from your pussy, leaving pretty little drops on his desk. Your eyes are glued to him as he unzips his pants, letting his cock fall right between your legs. The swollen tip throbs against your lower belly, leaking precum, warm and sticky, on your skin. You rock your hips, clenching around air, craving friction from that deliciously veiny cock of his. 
“You want it, baby?” San teases, tapping the head of his cock against your clit. His length slips between your folds. They’re so smooth, so slick. Toying with your pussy’s like splashing in a lake. You’re wet enough to drown in.
“I want it, Sannie, aah, fuck…” you moan, your eyes widening at the realization that his tip’s pressed to your entrance now, stretching you the faintest bit. 
“Then tell me how perfect your body is. Tell me you love it.” He pushes in an inch more, stopping to leave your hole spread wide around his cock, still needy and deprived. 
The stretch has the room spinning, a single taste of him already making you want more. “My body’s, mmph, beautiful” you manage as he gradually feeds you more of him, “I love it.”
“Don’t stop. Keep telling me. Make me believe you” San demands, thrusting into you so hard that he bottoms out. 
You cry out at the force of the thrust, your lashes fluttering away tears, “I love, aah, my body. I love my body. It’s beautiful. It’s…it’s…”
Tucking his hands behind your knees, San pushes them to your chest, snapping his hips against you hard enough that your thighs jiggle around him. All of you does. Every stroke of his cock makes you tremble and he’s hardly able to keep still himself. You’re so tightly wound around his cock that he can feel all the finer details of your walls. They’re glued to him, sucking him in every time he even thinks about pulling back. 
Through heavy lids you watch the man you’ve only ever known to be a mountain crumble to pieces all because of you. San’s muscles are slick with sweat and a glossy haze dances over his eyes. His fingers are digging into your thighs, completely devouring them. He does what he can to swallow his moans but it’s impossible when you’re making him feel like his entire soul’s being snatched from his body. 
“You feel so fucking good” he grunts, planting breathless kisses up your leg, “Come here.”
San props your ankles up on his shoulders, hooking an arm around you and sitting you up so that you’re close enough to kiss. He grinds against your sweet spot, forcing his tongue down your throat so that every moan you set free echoes between his cheeks. Gripping the back of your neck, he slams into you, harder, faster, forcing your body to give into him. He fucks you until your eyes are rolling back, your mind too blank to recall anything that happened before this moment. There’s no thought of the incident, no thought of your insecurities. High on euphoria, your body feels beautiful, every inch of it. 
“S-San…” you whine, a familiar pressure building behind your belly. Your fingers begin to tingle as they cling to his muscles, searching for any stability they can reach. 
“You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” he coos, not letting up on you, not even for a second.
Pulling his arm away he lets you fall back on the desk. With one hand cupping your breast and the other circling your clit, he watches you fall apart in the palms of his hands. For so long he’s had to watch you from afar, pretending that he wasn’t utterly obsessed with you, but now you’re all his. His pretty, moaning, teary eyed girl pouring your cum down his cock while you repeat his name like it’s the only word you know. He’s so singularly focused on watching you hit your high that his own takes him by surprise. 
Grabbing him by the wrist, you lock eyes, a weak smile forming on your lips. “Fill me up, Sannie” you whisper, your voice sexy even in its brokenness.
San’s body shudders and you feel a new fullness inside of you. The warmth pools deep within you at first, cascading down your walls the more he empties himself into you. “Fuck, baby” he pants, catching himself before his body doubles over. He came so hard his ears are ringing and holding onto you is all he can do not to fall. You sit up to stroke his cheek and he kisses your wrist lovingly. You stare into each other’s eyes for a minute that lasts an eternity, letting yourselves get lost in one another’s gaze. 
San breaks the trance with a kiss, holding you like one would the most precious thing they own. “Tell me, baby, how do you feel now?” 
You contemplate his question, your attention drifting back to the reflection in the mirror. It’s all there. Your face, your belly, your sides, your thighs, and San looking at you like you’re the prettiest girl in the world. You turn back to him with a smile, “Beautiful.”
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captain-huggy-bear · 13 days ago
Text
A Little Misunderstanding
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Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Lil' angsty at points, but ends sweet, lots of mutual pining and two idiots not realising the other is also in love with the other, meddling mothers (for the best this time)
Summary: Your parents assume that Quinn, the man you mention over the phone all the time, is in fact your boyfriend. He's very much not, but Quinn thinks its funny to pretend he is...until it gets a little too real and maybe some truths are told and feelings are aired.
Notes: Thank you to the anon who requested fake dating to lovers with Quinn, I had this idea which is a little different from the usual fake dating so I hope its okay and you still like it 😊
Tried to keep it ambiguous as to where the reader originated from so that us UK girlies can relate as well as anyone else not from Vancouver and/or Canada.
Reminder I typically use UK spellings because I'm English so...don't come at me if you wish I spelt it the US away. If I have to read US spellings all the time, you can handle the odd UK spelling
Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)
Writing Masterlist
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"When does your flight get in?" You balance your phone between your shoulder and ear, picking up a stray sock that had fallen out of your laundry basket as you attempt to tidy your apartment.
"7am your time, sweetheart, remember?" Your mother's voice rings clear down the line, familiar and warm. It's been a while since you saw either of your parents. You having moved all the way to Vancouver, more miles than you could count from your birthplace and hometown around two years ago. You were excited to have them finally able to come out and stay with you for a week, they'd never been to see you, and it had been a while since you'd been able to see your parents, not having time to fly to see them. While you were glad for the move to Vancouver, living in a completely different place away from your family wasn't always the easiest thing in the world. You so often felt like you were having to fend for yourself without much of a support network. Luckily you'd made some good friends in the time you'd been in Van.
"Quinn offered to come with me to pick you and dad up, we'll be there waiting for you so don't worry about getting an Uber." You dropped Quinn's name casually because that's what it was, he was just another part of your existence. Your friend, who admittedly you had a small crush on, but just your friend nonetheless. Just because you thought he was beautiful and wanted to kiss him didn't mean you were allowed to kiss him or that he'd even want to kiss you. He was a friend who happened to be a man and you both happened to be single. This had not changed for two years and wasn't likely to any time soon.
"Oh, Quinn'll be there?" Your mother's voice was suddenly more upbeat, excited. She'd been eager to meet Quinn for months now, you're not sure why she finally took an interest in one of your friends but you can't help but be glad. Quinn had become a massive part of your life, a support network you very much needed when you'd first come to a strange new place all by yourself. He was part of the fabric of your life now, and you knew he'd charm your parents without even thinking about it. It shouldn't matter to you that your parents like your friend, its not like Quinn was your boyfriend, but it did matter to you. You wanted them to like him as much as you did because you wanted him around for the foreseeable future.
"Yeah, I mentioned you were coming to visit the other day and his car is bigger than mine, so he offered to come along, he has to get up early most days anyway so he's not too bothered by it." It helped that Quinn had a couple of days off, but still you were thankful. He could have spent his rare enough free time doing something much more enjoyable than helping you pick your parents up from the airport.
"Your father and I look forward to meeting him, we've heard so much about him, darling!"
There's something about your mother's tone that makes you stop for a second suddenly feeling a little awkward about the whole thing. Maybe it's just how eager she is or maybe it's something else, but there's a little red flag waving in the back of your mind with some small print on that you just can't quite read yet.
"Right...um, look I'll see you tomorrow morning then? I gotta get everything ready for you guys."
"Of course, of course! We love you!"
"Love you too, mum."
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"You're sure you don't mind?" You look over at Quinn from the passenger seat, the two of you look exhausted, big bags under your eyes and even bigger hoodies to hide in because a 5am wake up to get to the airport in time was just a little much for both of you. This early in the morning it's still dark and the streetlights do something to Quinn's face that makes him even more handsome than usual, even as he looks like he might fall back asleep at any minute. It doesn't help that his scruff has grown out or that his hair is in those perfect waves he always seems to get even when he's just taken his bucket off.
"I wouldn't have offered if I did, besides the amount of time we spend together isn't it about time I met your parents? You've met mine." He smiles over at you, cheeky, the sort of Quinn most people didn't see. It's silly that it makes your cheeks feel warm, he's just your friend. You shouldn't be flustered by him.
"Your parents are at as many of your games as possible, of course I've met them."
"So are you. Sue me for wanting to meet the parents of one of my best friends."
"I'm your best friend?" You lean your head back on the headrest, tilting slightly to grin at him all silly. Quinn can see it from the corner of his eye and as much as it's ridiculous, that little grin makes you even more beautiful than normal.
"One of." He rolls his eyes at you, partly because of your silliness and partly rolling his eyes at himself. You're his friend. He shouldn't feel this way about you, men can have female friends...he just can't seem to have you as a female friend without wanting to kiss you at any given opportunity. It's becoming difficult, even more so in the early morning when the low light level puts your face in stark contrast and your hoodie, one of his, makes you look so cozy and sweet.
"That's just your way of avoiding admitting how much you love me and need me in your life."
Quinn's cheeks flush bright red, so bright that even the low light can't hide it nor hide the way he bites back a smile at you, eyes fixed on the road and the last few miles to the airport.
"...Shut up."
The silence that fills the car is comfortable, the sort that comes about from spending so much time together. You have friends that aren't Quinn, of course you do, but Quinn had been your first friend in Vancouver. He'd shown you around and made time for you in his incredibly busy schedule. You were often the first person he saw when he came off a roadie and the last person to see him before he left for one. There were nights when you stayed round Quinn's after a game or vice versa. You spent so much time together that you simply coexisted, being around Quinn was as easy as breathing. You rarely argued or disagreed and when you did it was always resolved properly. You simply worked. There wasn't ever much to think about with Quinn. You could just...shut off.
"Thank you, though...seriously." You take a moment, thinking how to word your next few thoughts, your warning as the signs for the airport come into full view, "Just, my mum seems really eager to meet you so...just brace yourself."
"Eager?"
"You know when your parents are excited to meet a new partner?" You think back to the few times you'd introduced a boyfriend to your mum, the excitement that she exuded...it was starting to concern you that she was that excited to just meet your friend. Because that's all Quinn was. Your friend. Not your boyfriend. Your friend, you remind yourself, even as he looks so good smiling over at you with his beard. He'd let it grow out just enough that he looked rugged and mature.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, she's that sort of excited which is really weird...she normally doesn't' care that much about my friends. Just, sorry, if she's really weird about it?" It's awkward enough talking about, you and Quinn have always stayed firmly platonic, you didn't talk about the fact that people assumed you were dating or even the concept of it. Talking about it felt...it felt like you were opening the curtains up, letting him see in a little too far.
"You didn't tell her we were married or something, did you?"
"Quinn! Shut up!" He laughs so loud that you can't actually be that mad at him, not when he's grinning at you like that, not when he's been so stressed as of late about the performance of his team. Even if it's at your expense.
"What? Just checking! For all I know you could have told her we got married in Vegas during one of my games or something?"
"If I'm telling my mum I'm married to you, it'll be because I'm actually married to you, you idiot." You roll your eyes at him, arms crossing over your chest as you turn to look out the window.
"Oh, so you do want to marry me?" He's joking, but he's not...he's thought about it. There's not a day that Quinn hasn't thought about what it would be like to be yours and you be his, not since he met you...and then promptly managed to land himself so far into the friendzone that he was scared to crawl his way out lest he leave you behind in the process.
"...I hate you."
"No you don't." His voice is singsong in intonation and sweet and he's right because you love him and it hurts...god, it hurts how much you love someone you can't have. Someone you see every day, someone who is so deeply ingrained in your life that removing him would be like carving a hole into your own chest.
You just sit and glare at him, even as a heavy sort of sadness hits, as he pulls up into one of the parking bays for collecting passengers.
It's okay that he's just your friend, you remind yourself as you get out of the car. It's okay because he's the best friend you could ask for, he's here at 6.45 am in the morning to collect your parents from the airport, not because he was asked or because he had to, but because he wanted to. You can live with loving him in silence, so long as you always have him around.
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"I think they're over this way, probably, near gate 1?" You're just getting your bearings, trying to figure out roughly where your parents will come out at after they find their things from baggage claim when you hear it.
"My baby!" The squeal of a middle aged woman who hasn't seen her daughter in far too long pierces the air. You barely have time to brace yourself for impact before your mother is wrapping you up in a gigantic hug and pressing as many kisses to your face as possible, you know without a doubt her signature mauve lipstick is smudged all across your skin.
Your father stands behind her, rolling his eyes in amusement but the smile he gives you is no less warm, "Hey there, princess."
"Hi, mum, hi, dad," You pull yourself free from your mother just long enough to get a long awaited hug from your father, big and warm and so familiar that you almost feel like crying. How long has it been since you last hugged your dad? Half a year? Nine months? Longer? You sometimes don't realise how much you miss something until you get it back.
When you turn back around your mother is already pulling Quinn into a hug that he accepts, if a tad awkwardly, his hands patting her on the back like he's not quite sure how hugs work.
She has his face in her hands before you can intervene, overly familiar and friendly as she grins up at him like he's made her day just by existing. "You must be Quinn, Y/N's boyfriend..."
"Oh, he's n-" You're pretty sure your eyes bug out of your head, startled by the suggestion because at no point in the last few years of living in Vancouver had you ever called Quinn your boyfriend. Ever.
You're cut off by Quinn who's grinning at you wickedly over the top of your mother's head like he's just been giving the greatest Christmas present he could ever ask for and in that moment you know...you know that he is going to make your life very difficult with this tiny piece of information.
"Yeah, hi, nice to meet, the boyfriend, that's me." God, he wishes it was true. There's nothing more he wants in that moment than to be able to say to your mom that you are 100% his girlfriend, but he can't...he can, however, enjoy the roleplaying while it lasts. He can't really stop himself, not when you look so aghast at your mother calling him your boyfriend, not when he can use this to tease you for at least the next 30 years. He grew up with 2 brothers, sue him for taking advantage of the situation.
"Quinn!"
"What? Am I not allowed to call myself your boyfriend anymore?" He sidles up to you, slipping out from your mother's grip to pull you into his side. His arm rests naturally over your shoulder, yours finding his waist, and it is natural...because you've done this a million times before. The kiss he presses to your hair is new though, different and as much as your mum clearly believes the ruse, you can see your father just looks amused. Something tells you he knows this is all an act, but he finds it enjoyable to watch. Typical. No support from him when you need it most. Dads.
"Oh, she's just grouchy in the mornings, has been ever since she was a baby!" Your mother looks at the two of you with such pride that you're certain her heart actually might break when she finds out Quinn isn't actually your boyfriend. You've never seen her look so happy with your choice in a man before and you're certain she won't be able to cope when you have to inevitably tell her that it was either a) a lie or b) that Quinn just wasn't the guy for you (another lie just to make your life more complicated).
"Mum!"
"Oh don't worry, I know just how grouchy my baby can be in the mornings." This time he presses a kiss to your cheek and when he does, you hiss lowly in his ear, 'I'm going to kill you.' and Quinn can't help but laugh at you, biting his lip at how much fun he's having riling you up.
"Here let me take your bags, Mrs Y/L/N," Quinn's bending down before your mother can even begin to protest, her carry on backpack being slung over his shoulder and pulling up the handle of her suitcase to wheel it behind him.
"Oh, you don't have to, Quinn!"
"I insist." He knows he's making it harder on you, can see the look you give him because he's just going to make your mother fall in love with him. But, even as he enjoys riling you up, he was also raised right and he's not letting your mother carry her own bags.
Your mother hangs back with you while your father and Quinn start walking ahead with the suitcases. She slips her arm through yours walking with you to keep up, as she does so she does a very bad attempt at whispering. The sort of whispering that means you know Quinn can hear every word and is probably enjoying it immensely.
"He's such a gentleman..."
"Yeah, a real gentleman." You mutter sarcastically, watching the way his shoulders rise and fall in a silent laugh that he's no doubt doing his best to swallow down.
"Don't be grumpy, he's just being sweet on you. You should be glad for such a loving boyfriend..." Your mother scolds you before raising her voice back to normal, Quinn and your father slowing down slightly to help keep the four of you together, "So, Quinn, my daughter tells me you're a hockey player?"
"Yeah, you talk about me, baby?" Quinn's grin is wide, and you can't help the warmth that fills your entire face because you can't actually deny it. You talk about Quinn all the time, he's your best friend and whenever your mother phones, you inevitably talk about him. Whether it was a game of his you went to or a coffee place you'd visited together or gala he'd invited you to. Maybe, you talked about him too much? Maybe, it was obvious in the way you talked about him that you loved him? Maybe that's why your mother had made such a large assumption about your relationship status. Maybe this was your fault, why wouldn't she assume you were dating?
"She talks about you all the time. Quinn this, Quinn that...did you know that Quinn did this today and broke this record?"
"Mum..." You groan out, looking to your dad for help but all he does is shrug his shoulders at you, amusement bright in his eyes. Even if he could do something you know he wouldn't because he's clearly enjoying your torture.
Quinn can't help it, the tables seem to reverse. You're embarrassed still, but now he is too, bright red in the face, ears flushed the colour of a fire engine and a hand rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. All because you talk about him to your parents...you talk about him when he's not around...he feels like a twelve year old, giddy because his crush smiled at him for the first time.
"I play for the NHL."
"Vancouver Canucks, wasn't it?" Your mother asks as the four of you step out into the cold Canadian air, her attention making Quinn squirm and you smile, enjoying the discomfort being swapped around for a moment.
"Yeah, I'm the captain of the team." He smiles at your mother awkwardly as he opens the boot of the car and starts to pile in the suitcases, organising them in just the right way that they fit without hassle.
Your father chimes in as he lifts his own suitcase into the back, Quinn helping him shove it back further, "That's impressive, I used to play field hockey myself, never got out of the amateur league but got a few bruises in my time. You had an injury recently right?"
You still remember phoning your mum to talk about it, at first worried and then over time growing more and more frustrated with how sullen Quinn was being. He'd grown restless from not being able to play hockey and you'd been his distraction, a distraction that had grown fed up with his moping no matter how much you loved him.
"I've had a few this year, most recently my hand." He raises his braced hand, the brace a point of annoyance to him at this point in time. He was itching to be done with it, but put up with it because it meant he could still play hockey at the moment.
"Oh, you shouldn't have been carrying my bag then, Quinn!" Your mother fusses over him, flapping about as if she might have a miracle cure for his hand injury.
"Honestly, it's fine! It looks worse than it is, I promise. I wouldn't get away with it otherwise, this one would kill me." He nods his head at you as he closes the boot, opening one of the backdoors for your mother to slide inside.
"Damn right I'd kill you, I cannot take more days of you moping that you can't play hockey and that you're bored despite my amazing company."
"You know I enjoyed spending time with you, sweetheart...but..."
"But, you can't live without hockey, yeah, I know..."
He follows you round to the passenger side door, opening it for you like a gentleman and letting you slide inside. You find yourself enjoying the attention even as you catch your mother's eye in the rear view mirror, a little smirk reaching her lips as she watches Quinn buckle you in. Something he does from time to time when he's feeling particularly sweet...because he was a good friend.
"So, Quinn, how did you meet our daughter? I'm not sure she ever mentioned it?"
The entire ride home is filled with your mother peppering Quinn with questions, encouraging him to talk more and more about your 'relationship'. Everything from when you first met to the first date you went on (which Quinn told her was the first time he took you ice skating, you were under the impression that that was a friendly family skate event and most certainly not a date).
The conversation lulls while you set your parents up in your spare bedroom, helping them settle themselves and showing them around your apartment. They hadn't ever seen it in person and they spent half the time cooing over your choices, the photos of family and friends on the wall, the ones of you and Quinn, as well as your mother checking your fridge and telling you to buy more vegetables.
It's as you're sitting down to a breakfast of pre-bought croissants and pain au chocolat that your mother restarts her question. This time even more invasive than the first.
"So Quinn, when did you know?"
"Mm? Know what?" Your best friend looks at your mother with furrowed brows, taking a sip of his orange juice and almost choking on it when she proceeds to clarify her question.
"When you loved my daughter."
There's a long beat of silence where your eyes stay fixated on your plate, watching your own hands intently as you spread Nutella inside your croissant, far too focused on that to be anything casual or calm. You're certain you're going to be sick because he doesn't love you but you love him and your poor mother is so oblivious and this...this is going too far, it feels like it's gone too far.
"Expected answer or honest answer?"
"Honest answer."
"The second week I knew her." Your head snaps up with a start only to find Quinn looking directly at you, green eyes crinkling softly at the corners. "She heard that I had been hurt on the ice the night before and she stormed round my apartment with a bunch of food, medicine and a blanket. Spent the whole day looking after me and making me watch 90s movies I hadn't watched growing up. No one outside my family had ever done that for me before...it made me realise that if I wasn't already in love, I would be pretty quick." You almost believe him, the way he looks at you, the way he speaks so softly. Almost.
You look down at your plate, tears welling in your eyes because you know he doesn't mean it. He's spinning a yarn for your mother and it hurts that he would go that far when you both know this is all some ruse he's decided to pull. You swallow hard and take a bite of your croissant, refusing to look at him for the rest of breakfast.
You won't meet his eyes until he goes to leave after breakfast, your parents hanging back so you can say goodbye to your 'boyfriend'.
"Mind if I come over after dinner? We could watch a movie with your parents?"
"Quinn..." You go to challenge him on his behaviour today, but the words won't come out.
"What?"
"Nothing...uh, sure, after dinner?"
"After dinner, baby."
You want to tell him off as he says it, as he presses a kiss to your cheek so your parents can see because you aren't his baby and he's hurting you. He's hurting you without realising it because you so desperately want to be his baby. But, you don't. You just watch him walk away down the corridor of your apartment building and out of sight before getting ready to show your parents around Vancouver for the day.
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You try to put the whole thing out of your mind throughout the day, showing your parents the sights of Vancouver, including the arena...but it's hard when they keep bringing Quinn back up and asking about your feelings. They probe you for half the day and it's emotionally exhausting balancing the truth with the half-truth, even more so knowing that they're going to be just as disappointed as you are when they realise your relationship with Quinn is just a sham, a charade, a fake.
Eventually they seem to grow bored of talking about the topic, however, and dinner goes relatively smoothly, you taking them to a nice restaurant Quinn had shown you back in your first couple of months in Vancouver. Even that feels bittersweet though, filled with memories of the two of you dining together. You can't help but feel like the whole issue needs addressing as you get them back home and pop a film on ready for Quinn's arrival.
When he arrives he continues the act as if it isn't one, greeting you at the door with a kiss to the cheek and pulling you down onto the loveseat opposite your parents, curling one arm around your shoulders and urging you to lay against him, your cheek pressed into his chest. In some ways it's familiar, not an act, because you cuddle for movies all time, completely platonically of course, but both of you are touchy feely and it's always been part of your dynamic. In others though? The way he talks to you, the pet names, kisses to your hair, that is all new, all a way to show your parents he's the 'doting boyfriend', even though he's not your boyfriend at all.
Your parents lap it up, every now and then you catch them smiling at each other and then over to the two of you and you can't help but feel heavy with it. With this feeling of unrequited affection. You love Quinn, you've known that for a while now, but it was easy to be around him because you didn't need to address it. You could love him in silence and from afar...you had never considered how hard it would become when what you wanted most was being dangled in front of you like a carrot on a string.
Quinn has a similar dilemma going on in his own head. He's always known he loved you more than a friend, even when you barely knew each other...had he been braver he would have asked for your number for a date that first day, not so that he could show you around a new city as a 'friend'. But, he'd been a coward and since then he'd continued to be. He enjoyed every ounce of affection he got from you, every hug, every cuddle, ever time you held his arm at an event, all while feeling like that had to be enough...now he's had more? He's not sure it'll ever be enough, he's greedy for you. Greedy for your affection, your attention, greedy in the way he wants to keep kissing you, keeping calling you sweet names and greedy for the way you grow bashful. Greedy for more than just being your friend...he's given himself a taste of what life could be like and now he can't forget it.
It's halfway through the movie, your legs slung over Quinn's lap and his fingers carding through the ends of your hair when your parents stand with a groan from the other couch.
"Princess?" You lift your head to look at your father, who's stretching out his back after sitting for so long.
"Yeah, dad?"
"Your mother and I are getting a little tired...we're going to go to bed, if that's alright with you two?"
"Of course, don't let us keep you up." Quinn confirms your own thoughts as well, telling your parents it's not problem at all. It's all so...so domestic.
Your dad presses a kiss to the top of your head, as does your mother, before yourself and Quinn wish them goodnight. You wait until you see the door to the spare room start to close, not waiting for it to do so fully, before turning to Quinn. You pull out of his arms, the missing warmth of you an immediate loss to him, but it has him sitting up straight and taking you seriously.
Your face is sullen, sad, eyebrows pinched, mouth turned down into a frown and he's alarmed to see that your eyes are glassy like you might cry.
"Why on earth would you let my parents think we're dating? Why would you tell my mother you're in love with me?" You're certain you're going to cry, angry, frustrated and sad all in one. Lovesick because it hurts to hear him tell your mother he was in love with you when you know he's not.
"Why not?" He frowns at you, hands reaching out but you keep just out of reach as if touching him is the last thing you want. You've never shied away from Quinn's touch and he recoils, breathing a little heavier out of anxious worry that he's upset you, that he's fucked this up. Maybe you've been uncomfortable with his touch all day? Has he been making you uncomfortable all day? Is he one of those guys?
"Because we're not dating and you're not in love with me, Quinn. My mother is certain we're going to get married and I'll stop being an old spinster! You're getting her hopes up." The unspoken words lay heavy on your tongue, 'you're getting my hopes up', you want to say.
"Who said I didn't love you? Who said I didn't want to marry you?" The look he gives you isn't the cheeky one he's had all day, it's not joking or silly, it's dead serious. He scoots closer to you, but doesn't reach out for you this time. But, Quinn can't help but want to be close to you, to be drawn into your orbit, into your gravity.
"Quinn..."
"What?"
"You're being mean..." Your voice is filled with tears, wet, pathetic sounding and you choke back a sob as a tear falls down your cheek because he's being so mean...he can't dangle that in front of you, everything you've ever wanted, not when he doesn't actually mean it.
He realises in that moment that you don't believe him. You believe he's spent the entire morning and evening telling lies, saying that he loves you when he doesn't, that you're that important to him when you aren't. You believe he's being mean because you don't believe him, that the tears are because you think he's holding this thing, this idea out in front of you, only to snatch it away.
"Look, I said a lot today...but none of it was a lie." He can't help himself this time, hand coming up to cup your cheek, thumb wiping away that pesky tear that shouldn't have been there in the first place. It's the way you lean into his touch that brings him a sense of confidence, of relief, you wouldn't do that if you didn't want him touching you.
"I know our first date wasn't a date, just a stupid family skate I was too scared to ask you out to as more than just a friend. I wish it had been a date and I wish I had been brave enough from the start to tell you I didn't just want to be your friend."
"Quinn..."
"And I was telling the truth...when your mother asked me when I fell in love with you." He tugs you closer, until your legs are back over his lap and your practically sitting on top of him, arms wrapping around your lower back and pulling you closer. The way he stares up at you is nothing short of reverent.
"Q..."
"The second week we knew each other you came to look after me when no one else did...and I knew...I knew that I was going to love you and that I was stupid for not asking you out in the first place...but I was...I was too scared to say anything. I didn't want to lose my new friend...I thought..." He hesitates, tongue coming out to nervously brush against his bottom lip, capturing your attention like a magpie with a shiny button.
"You thought?" You're whispering, quiet as if to speak any louder might scare him, might disrupt this little bubble you've found yourself in.
"I thought having a tiny bit of you...any bit, was better than having none of you at all." Quinn confesses, shifting you on his lap as your legs fall either side of his hips until you're so close your noses brush.
"Is it?"
"It was...for a bit..." It's self-deprecating, sardonic, like he finds himself ridiculous, foolish.
"And now?"
"And now I've had a taste of what it's like to love you, to be able to kiss you and hold you...call you mine...and now I'm greedy and it's not enough...Baby, it'll never be enough."
"You...you love me?" It's like even after all of this, everything he's said, every tender touch, you still don't quite believe him. It's hard to believe that everything you've ever wanted is sat in the palm of your hand just waiting for you to capture it, to take it. That your feelings, the ones you believed were unrequited for two years, were actually returned all along.
"I love you...and...um, if...if you'll have me, maybe I could be your real boyfriend this time?" His face is bright red, so warm to the touch when you're fingers reach out to trace his cheeks that you're surprised he doesn't combust.
"I'd like that...I...I love you too,"
"So...I'm your boyfriend?" He says it like he doesn't quite believe it, the beauty mark on his cheek moving as he grins up at you giddy like a little kid getting his first bag of sweets.
"You're my boyfriend." You press a kiss to that beauty mark without overthinking it...because you can now, because now it's not a lie when you tell your parents he's your boyfriend, because now you're allowed to kiss him and hold him and tell him how much you love him.
"Fuck...that sounds good."
He can't help but just stare up at you from where you're straddling his lap. The healthy glow to your skin, the soft smile directed down at him, the way you seem to curl into him like you're not close enough even now. God, you're beautiful and you're his...you're finally his and he's yours and...and he can't comprehend that the thing he wanted to happen for so long has finally happened. What had he been scared of all this time? He could have been with you for two years, instead he'd squandered it out of fear...
"Quinn?" Your voice is soft, melodic, so so sweet that almost closes his eyes at the sound.
"Yeah, baby?"
"Kiss me?" You whisper as if it's shameful to ask, as if you've asked for something more sordid than a simple kiss...your first kiss together at that.
"Anything for my girl."
He's gentle in the way he cups your neck and jaw with one large hand, thumb pressing just below your jaw bone as he pulls you in. There's nothing rushed about the way Quinn presses your lips together, the smooth glide of his bottom lip against your top. Even the way his tongue brushes against your lip until you open up for him is slow, steady, adoring. You can't help the way you sigh into him, fingers gliding through dark chocolate strands, eyes closing shut with the sense of home, sense of relief that you find in him.
The two of you lose yourselves in each other, slow kisses, wandering hands, nothing too extreme, but a new found intimacy that you're finally allowed to indulge in before you curl back up together to watch the remainder of the movie. Watch being a loose term for what you're really doing.
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"Did you know?" Your father turns his eyes away from the scene outside the spare bedroom, the way you're curled up in Quinn's arms like you were always supposed to be there. Neither of you realising that the spare bedroom door had never fully closed, both your parents eavesdropping like Samwise Gamgee.
"That they weren't actually together, dear?" Your mother looks sly and devious as she looks over at her husband. The face of the woman he loves, but also fears in equal measure.
"Yes."
"Of course I knew...but I figured they could both use a shove in the right direction, I mean, look at them?" Your parents both turn to watch the two of you, the way you curl up together on the couch is the epitome of young love. There's no real watching of a movie happening, instead Quinn's fingers are rubbing circles into your shoulder, while you look up at him lovingly from where you're curled against his chest. Every now and then he dips his head down to press a kiss against your forehead, and each time you giggle, face pressing briefly into his neck. The giddy feeling of a new, fresh love, making film watching the least of your interests.
"They just needed a little push." Both your parents smile at each other even as your father playfully scolds his wife, "You're a meddlesome woman."
"And you love me for it."
"Yes, yes I do."
Perhaps it took a bit of meddling, a fake misunderstanding, but that would be their little secret...at least for now. Your mother was rather looking forward to seeing you squirm in the future as you reveal the truth, that you hadn't actually been dating Quinn as long as you said. Yes, she certainly was happy to help, but she also was still your mother and lying to your mother was certainly not the done thing. A little squirming was good for you sometimes, but first, she'd let you enjoy the fresh bloom of love...and she'd go easy on you.
499 notes · View notes
bbyquokka · 2 months ago
Text
nerd in love
– after a misunderstanding, jisung finally tells yn how he feels at his birthday party .ᐟ.ᐟ
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pairing | han jisung x fem reader
genre | mutual pining , fluff , uni au – 18+ is strongly advised!
cw | she/her pronouns used ; mostly in jisung pov ; food and alcohol mentioned ; a lil suggestive at the end
words | 10.1k ~ ( 10,133 )
notes | well, here it is! i started this before my break (which is why its so late) but finished it during my break n i just wanted to post it bc im proud of this n i adore this version of jisung n the friendship dynamics !! :( don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. i hope you all enjoy! ‹3
m.list — wips list — you can also read it on my ao3
dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!
your pen taps against the white, lined sheet of paper that has a few scribbles and doodles on. your cheek resting on your hand as you sigh a little in boredom. 
the professor has been groaning on and on about the same thing. you want to listen and take in the information as you know it's important, but your mind wanders and you start to daydream; making imaginary scenarios.
you'd imagine an alien suddenly abducting you because it heard your silent cries of boredom. you and the alien would become the best of friends, the alien showing you around it's space shuttle and inviting you to have some tea and cake before making friendship bracelets – because that's what humans do, right?
other times, you'd imagine a strong, buff greek god suddenly turning up in class. he'd walk to you and take your hand, claiming that you're his long lost bride, before carrying you bridal style and off into the sunset where you two would get married and have babies.
so caught up in your fake scenarios, you don't see that another student is now looking at you.
the student is sitting in front of you–his usual designated spot. black hair that's long and permed and covers his eyes. glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. dressed in a button up shirt and black jeans, paired with a few accessories and black doc marten boots.
“excuse me.” he whispers, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “you're making too much noise.” he frowns.
you snap out of your daydream and sit up straight, wiping the imaginary drool from your chin with the back of your hand.
“o-oh.. sorry jisung.” you laugh awkwardly. he tuts and rolls his eyes before facing the front. you scoff a little and sit back in your seat.
you don't have very many friends in university, a small handful but it's enough and you don't have very many enemies either, but since jisung started the same class as you, he's been cold towards you.
he's not like this with other people, just you–it's like he can't stand you.
but for some reason, his cold, mean demeanour just makes you want him and find him even more attractive.
it's not a kink of yours, to be spoken down to and degraded. in fact, you love having the attention on you and being treated kindly and gently so it's unknown to you why you find him so attractive.
“alright class! that's all for today. you're all dismissed.” the teacher says. you silently cheer, packing up your things in your backpack.
jisung rises to his feet and swings his bag onto his shoulder, letting it rest there before pulling out his phone. you both catch eye contact with each other.
“see you tomorrow?” you say politely and smile. jisung quickly looks away and mumbles something before walking out in a rush.
maybe you're still daydreaming, but you swore you could see the tips of his ears turning a light shade of pink. 
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“fuck, i’m so late!” you alternate between running and speed walking your way to your class. your alarm didn't go off this morning so when you finally awoke, it was up and out in a flash. “i'm so screwed!”
today is an important day. the teacher was going to go over a few things on a test that's due in a few weeks so you really needed to attend it to get an idea–but alas, here you are. hair disheveled, dried up drool on your chin and your socks mismatched with your backpack hanging off your shoulder.
you breathe a sigh of relief before stopping in front of the lecture hall doors. you take a deep breath and fix yourself up before reaching out to open the doors.
the doors suddenly swing open. the students exiting the hall. you stand in the middle of the students as they walk around you, engaging in conversations with their friends.
you frown in confusion, looking at the time on your phone. your eyes widen even more, bulging from the sockets.
“oh wow.. i really fucked up.” you were a lot later than you thought.
you look up to see jisung looking at his phone. today he's in a plain, black t-shirt and skinny jeans. a few chains hanging around his neck and converse.
“hey, ji!” you call out. he looks up at whoever is calling him before his face twists into disgust when he realises it's you. you ignore this, mainly because he rushes past you.
you frown and chase after him, trying to keep up with his speed–but he's too fast.
“hey! wait! i know you heard me, ji!!”
“don’t call me that. my name is jisung.” he mumbles.
“ok ok, sorry! just, i need help!” 
“find it elsewhere.” his tone of voice is cold towards you; like always. again, you ignore it.
“please, i’m desperate! my alarm didn't go off and i clearly missed class! i know it was super important too and–can you slow down and listen to me?!” you huff.
jisung lets out an irritated sigh and looks at you; phone in one hand, earphones in the other. he stops in the middle of the corridor and looks at you.
you bend down, hands on your knees to catch your breath. 
“you being late has nothing to do with me. it's your own fault for being late.” he says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
“yeah, i know.”
“you fucked up and now you want my help? how could i possibly help you?”
“i need your notes.”
“my notes? fuck no.” 
“oh please, ji… sorry–jisung. i really, really need this.” you pout. jisung groans and rubs the back of his neck.
“ok, fine.” he sighs in defeat. you're taken aback by how easy it was for him to surrender his notes over to you; but you don't complain. he takes his notebook out of his bag and hands it to you. you cheer and open it up, looking at the notes.
his handwriting is beautiful. his notes are easy to follow, however, you've come to the realisation that looking at notes isn't going to be enough for you to get the information to stick in your mind.
“make sure to give it to me by the end of the day. i’m usually at the library.” he says as you flick through his notes. “if you can't find me, find minho. he's my roommate.” 
you don't respond due to the fact that so much information is causing your brain to go into information overload. jisung sighs again and, as he is about to walk away, you grab his arm.
“wait!” you make a quick mental note of how soft his skin is and how muscular he feels. jisung looks at your hand that's on him, feeling heat quickly rise to his cheeks and his heart to thumb erratically in his chest.
“your hand.” he whispers. you lean in close to get a better understanding of what he just said.
“pardon?”
“hand. your hand. please remove it.”
“oh!” you quickly remove your hand from him. jisung clears his throat and looks down, hoping that his long hair covers his face to hide the blush that's happily sitting on his cheeks.
you see it though and make a note of how adorable he looks. you feel your own heartbeat skipping beats and beating erratically but you put it down to you having to sprint to class.
“i don't think this will be enough.” you start. he looks up at you. “the notes.. i don't think it's going to be enough.”
“well, there's a library and also the internet. there’s this thing called google, so use that.”
“teach me.” his eyes widen in shock.
“t-teach you?! fuck no, yn!”
“please, jisung! just until the test is over! i really, really need this. i’m desperate and, although your notes are so perfect, it's going to take a lot more than notes for me to understand it!”
“then ask the tutor for a one-on-one! or ask your friend!!” he stutters in shock. his cheeks are now bright red.
“you know the tutor doesn't do one-on-ones and my friends don't even take this class! oh please, jisung. pleeeaseee. pretty pretty pleeease.” you pout, giving him puppy eyes.
“yn…”
“i’ll buy you your coffee everyday for a full month.”
“... just my coffee?”
“what sweet treat do you like?”
“...cheesecake.” he answers reluctantly.
“then coffee and cheesecake on me for a full month!” jisung runs his fingers through his hair slowly, a soft, defeated sigh leaving his lips as he contemplates.
“you really need this, huh.” you nod your head fast to the point of dizziness. “you drive a hard bargain, yn. but fine.”
you cheer and grin widely.
“on some conditions though.”
“what?”
“we study in the library, you don't be late and we only do this until the test is over! after that, i won't teach you anymore.”
“yes sir.” you salute. “oh, do you want my contact information? might make it easier to set up study dates.”
“study dates?” 
“yeah! i assume we have different schedules due to different classes, so it's better to text or call each other so we know when to meet up!”
“true.. ok, fine. give me.” you tell jisung your contact information. he phones you and you smile as you save his contact information.
“thank you so much, jisung! you're the best!” you say before sprinting off to find your friend leaving a flustered jisung bewildered in the middle of the corridor.
“study dates, huh.. i kinda like that.” 
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“dude, chill. you're just going to the library to study” jisung’s roommate laughs as he watches jisung scurrying around the place as he packs his bag. 
minho is relaxing on jisung’s bed, shirtless and in sweats with round glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose whilst eating an ice pop. him and jisung have been the best of friends since university started and he became jisung’s roommate.
since then, they've both been inseparable. many people speculate that something is going on between the two of them, indicating a relationship–minsung, they call them.
“i am chill.” jisung mumbles as he shoves in a few too many pens into his pencil case.
“yeah, suuuure.” minho laughs as he licks and sucks on his popsicle. “i’ve watched you run around the place like a headless chicken.”
“dude, please hush.” jisung looks at minho just as some sticky sweet ice drops onto minho's chest. he scoops it up with his fingers and eats it. jisungs sighs “do you have to eat that on my bed?”
“yeah. problem?” minho smirks
“yes. quite a few actually. you're going to get the sheets sticky!” jisung whines.
“not the first time i've heard that.” minho laughs at his own joke. jisung rolls his eyes but the corner of his lips turn upright into a smile as he holds back his laugh.
“you're disgusting.”
“yeah? and you're a mess right now, bro.” minho places the wooden popsicle stick on jisung's side table before swinging his legs around to plant his feet on the floor.
he stands and walks to jisung, ruffling his hair a few times.
“you're just going to study, that's all. it's not that big of a deal, bro. unless….” minho smirks and wiggles his brows at jisung.
“unless what? what are you implying, minho?” jisung says as he crosses his arms across his chest and raises his brow.
“unless you, oh i don't know, like her.” jisung's eyes widen a little and he clears his throat, turning his head to avoid eye contact with minho. “aha!! i knew it! you do like ‘em!”
“no, i don't. fuck off, minho.” jisung mumbles and rushes to his desk, messing and organizing a few things to ‘look busy.’
minho skips over to jisung with a smirk. “c’mon ji. we all know you've been smitten with yn since the very beginning. it's soooo obvious!”
“dude, please. i don't like her like that. and it's jisung–not ji!”
“ahuh. whatever you say, dude.” minho laughs. 
“plus, she probably doesn't like me in that way..” jisung mumbles before sighing softly.
“have you asked her that?”
“well… no but–”
“then how do you know?” 
“i just do, ok?! enough with the questions, minho. don't you have that media assignment to do or something?”
“nope.” minho says, popping the p in an obnoxious way. “all done, which means i am a free man.”
“no one is a ‘free man’ in university, minho.” jisung laughs. 
“ugh, you're right. even though one assignment is done, i still have a gazillion more.” minho runs his fingers through his long, shaggy hair. “speaking of which, i best start with at least one of them.”
“good luck, man. you'll do great.” jisung says sarcastically, paring it with a sarcastic grin.
“fuck you. good luck with yn, jisung.” minho turns around and walks out of jisung's bedroom. “hope you get laid!” he shouts.
“fuck you.” jisung laughs. minho sticks his middle finger up at jisung before laughing and closing his bedroom door.
with the last of his things packed, he zips up his back. he checks one last time in the mirror, fixing his hair and spraying his best perfume onto his neck. he puts his hand up to his mouth, huffing on it before sniffing. pulling a face, he grabs a mint and pops it into his mouth, sucking on it as he puts on his shoes and a leather jacket.
“it’s just a study thing. it's not that serious. calm down, jisung.” he mumbles as he laces up his shoes.
but he can't stop his heartbeat from thumping loudly against his ribcage and excitement to rush through his body. his excitement is so big, it makes him shake. 
“it’s not a big deal. she probably doesn't like you that way.” he continues to mumble in an attempt to calm himself down as he takes one last look in the mirror. a smile slowly creeps up onto his face and a small squeal escapes from the back of his throat.
“fuck! i’m so screwed.” 
minho hears this and laughs at his friend's excitement before putting on his headphones. if there's one thing minho loves, is seeing his best friend happy and over the moon. he just hopes he won't get hurt.
“cute.” minho says to himself before typing away at his keyboard. jisung leaves the bedroom and shouts a goodbye to minho before heading out to the library.
nervous doesn't describe how jisung is feeling. as he walks to the library, his legs start to feel like jelly and the urge to turn back strong the closer he gets to his destination. he hopes that you're not there first just so he has time to calm himself down.
he even tries to listen to music in hopes that it would calm him down somewhat. but the soothing sounds of violins and cellos do nothing (he even tried listen to a few seconds of whale noises but even that was useless)
“we’re just studying. nothing more.” he repeats under his breath as he walks inside the library.
the place is nicely decorated, modern with a hint of an historic touch. students at tables and little cubicles, headphones on and studying. some in groups, whispering as they do projects of various kinds. some making the most of how quiet it is to take a quick nap. the occasional rustling of snack packets paired with the occasional crunch breaks the silence every so often.
it's silent but it's lively.
jisung says a few hellos to some students he recognises (either from classes they take together or them being minho's friends) as he searches the area for you.
his heart thumping as he searches. he silently cheers when he can't see you because he has a chance to calm down, but, as he walks to an empty table at the very back of the room, his victory is cut short as he sees you sitting there; ready and waiting.
you have your back to him (and to everyone else) and you're hunched over your notebook. jacket resting on the back seat with your bag on the floor, by your side. jisung takes a quick, small peek over your shoulder to see what you're doing only to see small, quick doodles on the page from boredom.
his heart swells a little as it's another thing he's learnt about you. just when he thinks you couldn't get any more perfect.
“hey, yn.” he whispers only to realise that you won't hear him no matter how many times he calls for you due to the music that's blasting from your earphones. he makes a quick mental note of who you're listening to before trying to get your attention again.
“hey, yn.” he places his hand on your shoulder to which you jump at, causing jisung to jump at your reaction. you look behind you as you take out your earbuds, sighing in relief.
“jesus, jisung. you frightened me.” 
“sorry, yn. i didn't mean to.”
“no, it's ok. my music may have been a little too loud.” you laugh as you put them away and jisung sits next to you on one of the chairs.
“you know you'll get tinnitus if you keep doing that.” 
“yeah… i know. it's a bad habit but music sounds better loud, y‘know!” jisung nods in agreement before pulling out his notebook and pencil case.
you watch him lean down. you take the time to admire him. his hair soft and fluffy. you have to resist the urge to run your fingers through it. a faint smell of strawberries and flowers emits from his hair; a sickly sweet yet pleasant smell.
his skin is dewy and perfect; not a blemish in sight. a beauty mark sits close to his lips. it's a small mark so it's no wonder you never recognised it before.
you notice the way his biceps bulge and flex with every motion of his arms. the chains from his neck dangle a little and his aftershave wafts towards you and tickles your nose hairs.
“you smell so good.“ you mumble. jisung looks at you.
“excuse me?”
“you smell so fucking good.” you repeat and lean in close to him. your hair tickles his jawline and chin as you smell the skin of his neck. “what do you use?”
“...i–urm, i don't know. i just picked it up when i was shopping.” you hum and nod. jisungs soft cheeks slowly start to feel very hot. “personal space, yn. ever heard of it?”
“oh!! sorry. my bad. i didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.” you laugh awkwardly as a awkward silence falls upon you both.
jisung turns his head away from you so you can't see him but his cheeks are very red and hot as his heart beats fast. 
you were so close to him. so very, very close. he thought he was going to have a heart attack. he could smell you and to him, you smell so delicious and sweet; like vanilla cheesecake. 
“this is not good for my heart.” he mumbles to himself. 
“by the way” you begin. jisung looks at you. you slide a cold coffee and cheesecake in the middle of you both. “told you i’d stick to my end of the bargain.”
“i didn't expect you to do it so soon, yn. it's only the first session.”
you shrug. “a deals a deal.” jisung takes the cheesecake and coffee, sipping on it and humming softly as the bitter, cold taste coats his tastebuds and the caffeine enters his system.
“i didn't know what flavoured cheesecake you like so i hope it's ok.”
“what flavour is it?”
“strawberry”
“mhm, not bad.”
“you don't like strawberry?” you say with a small pout. he shrugs.
“it's fine. not the worst. but it's too sweet for me. i’m a vanilla kinda guy.”
“aah, ok. i’ll make a mental note of that.” you say as you tap your temple, laughing softly. jisung lets out a small puff of air from his nose. you see the corner of his lips curl into a small and that makes you feel like he's accepted you.
“now, enough chitchat. i actually want to be done in a decent time so, let's begin?”
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“sooooo” jisung looks up at minho, his chopsticks half hanging from his mouth, resting on his bottom lip.
the smell of spicy, instant ramen fills the air. minho cooked some food for the two of them as they have both been studying hard for upcoming tests and assignments. 
instant ramen with a slice of cheese on top. rice cakes, fish cakes and other yummy goodnesss swim in the broth. the kitchen looks a mess, pots and pans scattered everywhere–it contributes to the rest of the dorm with the various clothing and shoes scattered around.
“soooo…” jisung repeats, eyebrows raised. his bangs are tied back in a pink hair tie (your pink hair tie), a white vest top and sweats on his body. minho is also in sweats but with an anime print t-shirt and a sanrio clip to hold back his bangs and a pore strip on his nose; getting tighter and tighter by the second.
“have you asked her yet?”
“asked her what?” jisung takes some noodles and a fish cake, putting them on a small, separate plate before grabbing some kimchi.
“dude.” minho rolls his eyes and lets out a long, irritable groan. “for being smart, you sure are dumb.”
“you're just dumb through and through.” jisung smiles playfully as minho sticks his middle finger up at his best friend.
“fuck you.” minho takes a rice cake that's soaked in the ramen broth. he chews it, the sound of sticky, chewy rice cake emits from his mouth. “anyways! have you asked yn about the party?”
jisung lets out a slow grunt. “not this again, minho.” 
“what?!” minho says with a shrug as he continues to chew and talk.
“i already told you, and eeeeveryone else. i don't want a party or anything of the sort, minho. i just want it to be a nice, quiet day.” jisung’s eyes drift to the half chewed rice cake that's being tossed around in minho's mouth. he pulls a face in disgust. “and can you please not talk with your mouth full?”
“you're such a prude.” minho rolls his eyes but swallows his food regardless. “anyways, you know me, changbin and chan won't let you have a quiet birthday!”
“yeah, no shit.” jisung rolls his eyes as he slurps on his noodles. he wipes his mouth with a napkin before munching on some kimchi. “still don't understand why you all decided to plan a birthday party without my knowledge knowing full well i said no in the beginning.”
“dude, you're so boring.” minho jests. “it's your birthday!” he emphasise. “you're supposed to have a party, eat lots of cake and junk. drink beer, hang out with friends and maybe, get laid.”
he wiggles his eyebrows at jisung and laughs softly. with a heavy sigh, jisung puts his chopsticks down.
“no matter what, you're going to go through with this, aren't you?” 
“yup!” minho obnoxiously pops the P. “plus, things have already been ordered and organised for it. we already have a few people who confirmed they're attending.”
“who?”
“mhm–” minho puts down his chopsticks and thinks, looking at the ceiling as he does. “felix from fashion design. hyunjin from art. seungmin from business studies and jeongin who is also from fashion design.”
“how do you know all these people?”
“well, unlike some–” minho's eyes widen as he looks at jisung, indicating he's talking about him in particular “–some of us actually get out. plus, chan is like a social butterfly and changbin is charismatic. put them two together and well, people can't say no.”
“yeah, true. i remember when they begged me to work on a track or something for their music assignment.” 
“they both practically dragged you to do it.” minho laughs.
“only because you told them i said yes without me knowing about the situation!”
“because i knew you'd say no! you have a talent for this stuff, jisung. don't let it go to waste.”
“thanks.” he mumbles, hanging his head low in embarrassment and awkwardness.
“is that… is that a blush i see?!” minho smirks.
“me? blush? for you?! hell no!” jisung frowns. “the ramen is spicy, that's all.”
“dude… it's mild.”
“...fuck you.”
“so, are you going to ask yn or nah?”
“if it gets you and everyone else off my back, then sure”
“good. make sure you do!” jisung opens and closes his hand, mimicking minho's yapping.
“yeah yeah yeah. can we stop talking about this party and eat?”
“just looking out for ya, man. i know how much you like ‘em!” 
“i know. i appreciate it, minho.” minho nods and continues eating the ramen. jisung, on the other hand, is now lost in thought.
how the hell is he going to get the courage to ask you something like that?
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the study sessions are slowly coming to end. you kept up with your end of the deal, providing jisung with an endless amount of coffees and cheesecakes whilst he has provided you with an endless amount of insights.
one thing you have learnt about him is that he is smart. he knows how to do things with just a quick glance. he's good at explaining things so it's not confusing. 
you've been stuck on a problem for some time and no amount of teachers advice and youtube videos helped you. all it took was five minutes of jisung explaining the solution and it clicked.
today, however, you are alone in the library. jisung messaged you to let you know that he wasn't going to make it. you felt sad and a little heartbroken–you’ve become so accustomed to jisung's presence that you feel a little cold and lonely right now.
you can't concentrate. the music you're blasting down your ears isn't helping either. the text in your book is slowly starting to merge into one big splooge of text. the information just isn't getting through to you and it's frustrating.
you sit back in your seat and sigh as you take your headphones off and throw them on the table. 
“this is pointless.” you mumble. “i can't concentrate. maybe i should just skip it.”
you take your phone and browse through social media before subconsciously opening up the food app. your mouth salivates as you look at the various burgers, fries, pizza and sweet treats–and then your stomach growls.
“maybe i’m just hungry. that's why i can't concentrate.” you pack your things and head to the university cafeteria. the menu looks dull so you settle on a simple sandwich and drink.
the cafeteria is packed. the atmosphere is buzzing with the endless chatter of students. you take your seat and pick up your sandwich.
it's a standard ham salad sandwich with some dressing on. the slices of ham and lettuce (too much lettuce for that matter), tomatoes and other salad stuff squished together by two slices of thick, white bread, smothered in dressing.
you take a few bites. it's ok. it's not bad but you've had better. the bread is a little dry for your liking but the dressing takes that away. you open the cap of your bottled drink and take a few swigs to help wash it down.
“what do we have here?” you turn your head in the direction of the voice–that thick aussie accent you know all too well.
“ew. go away chan. you're disturbing my peace.” 
“charming. don't think that's something you should say to someone you haven't seen in a while.” he says with a pout as he walks to your table and sits down. he's joined by another man, a friend of his, perhaps. he sits opposite you.
“and whose fault is that, huh? maybe if you answered my calls or texts every once in a while.”
“sorry, yn. i’m just a busy man, y’know.” chan grins as he leans back in his seat, brimming with confidence.
“yeah. too busy being the campus whore.”
“blah blah blah. least i’m getting some.” he elbows you in the side a few times. “what are you getting, huh?�� he jests.
“a degree? y'know that thing i came here for in the first place.”
“oh ha ha. very funny, yn.” chan mocks, rolling his eyes at you before stealing your sandwich and taking a bite.
the male opposite you clears his throat as a way of telling you both “hi, i’m still here.”
“oh! yn, this is minho. minho, yn.” minho's eyes widen a little and his lips twitch into a small smile.
“so, you're yn. nice to put a face to the name.“ he grins.
“you know me?” you blink a few times in confusion.
“i’m jisung’s roommate.” you mentally slap yourself. of course!
“oh my god. i’m so sorry. i didn't realise! i’m so bad with names.” you whine. minho laughs and brushes it off.
“and how do you know jisung, yn?” chan says with a mouthful of food; your food to be exact. you glare at him, daggers darting out of your eyes and straight into chan as you snatch your sandwich back off him.
“jisung’s my private tutor as of right now.”
“oh.” chan nods before his eyes suddenly light up. he looks at minho for confirmation. “wait, hold up.”
minho nods and smirks. “nah. really?!” you watch the two men talk in code as they communicate by facial expressions and a stings of “ohs” and “yeahs”
“uh, hello. i’m still here!” minho laughs softly.
“sorry, yn.” you shrug it off and eat your sandwich. “how do you two know each other by the way. chan has never mentioned you before.”
“good. keep it that way.” you say coldly, mainly aiming it at chan. chan pouts and nuzzles into you, head on shoulder. he looks at you with puppy eyes and a pout.
“aww. don't be like that, bestie. you secretly love me.” you flick his forehead.
“me and chan are childhood friends. haven't been able to get rid of him since.” chan smiles at your sweet implication. “he's like a parasite. or a fruit fly in the summer.” his smile drops and now, it's your turn to give chan a big, sarcastic grin–teeth and all.
“rude.” he mumbles. you shrug and finish off your sandwich. 
“so, jisung is your tutor.” minho speaks. you nod.  “are you attending his party?” 
“party? what party?” you look at chan and minho. minho sighs a little and runs his fingers through his hair.
“i warned him.” he mumbles under his breath in irritation before looking at you and smiling softly. “me, chan and a few others are organising a birthday party for jisung.”
“his birthday is coming up?!” your eyes widen. “when? i should get him a gift”
“14th.”
“14th?! that's pretty soon.” you mumble.
“jisung told me he would invite you.” you shake your head no. minho rubs the back of his neck. “well, this is awkward.” 
“it’s ok. maybe he has his reasons as to why he didn't mention it to me. no biggie.” you say with a smile. minho nods before a few minutes of silence dawn upon the three of you.
“out of curiosity.” you break the silence. “how is jisung in general?” minho tilts his head to the side. “it's just he seems so….” you think for a second, thinking of the right (and nice) word to use “... cold towards me.”
“cold?” 
“mhm. he seems so bitter towards me and i don't know why. we barely even talked in class but when we did, he would always tell me i’m making too much noise and to hush.” you slowly start to feel slightly irritated. 
“jisung is fine with me.” he says with a. shrug. “he's pretty chill around me.” you huff.
“i know he can be friendly because whenever i see him in the corridors talking to someone, he smiles and is so friendly!”
“what’s he likes now, yn?”
“well, now that we've been spending more time with each other, he's… i don't know… avoiding me to some degree? he won't make eye contact with me. he doesn't like it when i touch him.”
chan raises his brow and looks at minho, both men thinking the same thing. chan puts you in a gentle headlock and ruffles your hair.
“hey!! get off me!!” you push chan a few times, using all your strength to make him release you.
“you're pretty naive, yn.” chan laughs, continuing to ruffle your hair. he ignores your screams and yells, minho laughing at the two of you.
finally, chan let's you go. you push him with all the strength you have left before fixing your hair and glaring at him. chan pouts and nuzzles into you once again.
“i’m sorry, yn. forgive me?” he puckers his lips and makes kissing noises, edging closer and closer to you. you hold him at arm's length.
“ok ok!! just quit doing that!!” chan laughs and pats your head gently.
as fast as he was in the cafeteria, jisung is soon out of it after seeing you and chan, with nothing but festering jealousy in his stomach.
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you bounce through the library to your designated spot at the very back, coffee and cheesecake in each hand with your bag swinging on your shoulder.
jisung is there, punctual, as always. but something seems a little off. the air around him seems thick and suffocating–dark even. 
“hey!” your cheerful voice ringing in his ears, making his heart beat fast. you sit next to him and slide over the coffee and cheesecake.
today he's dressed in a yellow and orange flannel shirt and white tank-top. black jeans and boots to accommodate. a few of his nails are painted in black, chipping from wear and tear.
he gives you a cold nod of the head. you frown a little but choose to ignore it as you take your books and pens out of your bag.
“so, what's the plan for today?” jisung shrugs. “...ok, well how about we go over that question i was struggling with?”
“k” he reluctantly moves closer to you. the scent of cinnamon and vanilla wafts towards you and tickles your nostrils, making you let out a small hum of satisfaction.
“you smell good, jisung.”
“mhm, thanks.” you let out a silent sigh. something is wrong with him and you don't know why. is it something you've done? something you haven't done? 
jisung is being very dry and sour with you. his usual method of teaching you is that he would go into detail and repeat until you'd understand it, today, however, he's very short and sharp.
“i don't understand.” you say. jisung sighs, a long irritated sigh. you bite your lip, thinking that you've done something to hurt him in any possible way.
“what don't you get?”
“all of it…” he sighs again and rubs his face. his eyebrows furrow together in irritation. the jealousy he is feeling in his stomach is festering, becoming more and more intense.
every time he looks at you, he is reminded of the way you and chan were together. he hates that. how could you fall for someone like chan? he thought you were better than that. his head swimming with negative and harsh thoughts.
before he can stop himself, the words just spill without any control. “why don't you get chan to do it for you.”
you blink. “chan? what does he have to do with this?”
“i mean, you two are close are you not?”
“i mean.. well, yeah, i guess.” you shrug. “he does get on my nerves sometimes though. he is such a pain! but he's a good gu–”
“i thought you were better than that, yn.’ he spits.
“the fuck is that supposed to mean?” you feel the bubbling of rage in your stomach as you stare at jisung, who stares at you back. the jealousy has consumed his body and it's too late to back out now.
“as in, i thought you had standards. chan? of all people? he's a whore, yn. everyone knows that he sleeps around on campus and you chose him?!”
“i don't appreciate the way you're talking about him, jisung.”
“it’s the truth, yn! and you know it so why are you with him?! you can do sooo much better than him!!”
“oh yeah?” you challenge. “then who is good for me, mhm? please, enlighten me?” 
jisung freezes. he looks away and chews his bottom lip. you scoff and pack your things in a hurry.
“i don't have to listen to this bullshit. you've been in a shit mood with me this whole time, which is fine. everyone has bad days. what's not ok, however, is you taking it out on me and bad mouthing the people i care about.” you stand up, swinging your bag onto your shoulder. jisung stares at one spot of the desk, burning holes into it. “text me when you're in a better mood.”
you walk out, leaving jisung to think about what he has just done.
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“jisunggggg. sungieeee. knock, knock. let me innn!” the sound of minho's high-pitched, cheery voice irritates jisung to the bone. he lets out a slow and irritated groan, hot puffs of air slowly exhaling from his nostrils.
he pushes his glasses up his nose and runs his fingers through his unwashed hair. sitting at his desk in the same baggy band t-shirt and sweats from a few days ago, he checks his phone for the nth time, only to be disappointed.
he hasn't spoken to you nor seen you since that day. in class, it's worse. he's tried to catch your eye a few times, smiling when he does, only for you to turn away. he spent days loathing in his own self pity, locking himself up in his room and only coming out for food, bathroom breaks and class.
minho has had enough. not only is jisung's mood ruining the atmosphere, but minho has no idea as to what happened that day. he was home when jisung came back to the dorm, looking like he was on the verge of tears. 
when he asked, jisung always gave the same answer of “mind your own business.”–and he has; for several days now.
“let me in, jisung.” the repetitive sounds of minho's knuckles against the wood door cause jisung's stomach to bubble more intensely with anger–until he finally snaps.
he rushes to the door and swings it open, brows furrowed together. minho's smug grin makes him foam at the mouth.
“what part of leave me alone don't you understand, minho?” jisung's words dripping with poison. minho shrugs it off.
“all of it.” he pushes past jisung, making himself at home in his bedroom. jisung has no time to protest, all he can do is watch his best friend jump on his bed and rest on his back, arms behind his head.
with a heavy sigh, jisung walks back to his desk. he turns his back on him, hoping that if he ignores his friend, he will get bored and eventually leave. minho watches his friend pick up and put down his phone several times to the point where minho feels irritated by it.
“so?” minho starts
“so?” jisung repeats
“going to tell me what's happened? haven't seen you this down in a while.”
“nope. i'm good.”
“you can't keep moping around the place, jisung.”
“i can and i will.” minho groans and stands up, walking out of the bedroom. jisung mentally cheers only for it to be cut short when minho throws his jacket at jisung.
“put it on.” it's more of a demand than a sentence, but nonetheless, jisung obliges because if he doesn't, minho will force it on him.
“where are we going?”
“to the cafe.” minho puts on his shoes, jisung following suit.
“aah, dude.. i don't really fe–”
“shut up, we're going to the cafe whether you want to or not. a change of scenery might cheer your moody ass up because, to be quite honest, i’m tired of seeing your gloomy ass face.” he looks at jisung who is frowning at him. “in the nicest way possible, of course.”
jisung rolls his eyes before following minho to the local (and one of his favourite) cafes. 
it's a small, local café with an old fashioned sense of style to it. the tables and chairs are worn. cushions on the chairs losing their stuffing and the tables scratched and chipped. the décor is outdated, indicating that the café has been there for quite a few years; but it feels like home to some.
the bell above the door chimes as minho and jisung walk in. they walk to the counter and say their orders before taking their lunch and drinks and sitting at a table.
jisung takes a sip of the coffee. he feels the ice cold beverage trickling down his esophagus and into his empty stomach. minho munches on his chicken salad sandwich, watching his friend look in his drink and ponder.
“i fucked up.” jisung mumbles, lost in thought. the more he thinks about you, the more he can feel the tears threaten to spill down his cheeks. minho tilts his head to the side and as he is about to open his mouth and encourage his friend to continue, a familiar sound in the form of a laugh causes jisung's head to shoot up and look in that direction.
his eyes widen. he feels relief and happy to see a smile finally on your face; but then that same, the green monster in the form of jealousy parks itself on his shoulder and starts whispering in his ear.
minho watches jisung's jaw muscles clench. his facial expression goes from relief to jealousy. minho follows jisung's gaze and raises his brow at the sight of you and chan.
chan is being his usual, goofy self. he's telling you typical dad jokes and being a little grotest by telling you his latest hook-up details. you push him by the arm and roll your eyes, sipping your coffee in the process. chan continues to joke around with you, play fighting a little by wrapping his arm around the back of your neck loosely and rubbing the top of your head with his knuckles.
“i can't fucking stand this.” jisung mutters bitterly under his breath. minho turns and looks at his friend who is green with jealousy.
“stand what?”
“seeing someone as precious and innocent as yn be with someone like chan!” minho blinks a few times.
“what do you… jisung, what do you think yn and chans relationship is?”
“isnt it obvious? they're going out!” minho gives jisung a few blank stares and blinks before bursting out into laughter, choking on his own saliva in the process. “what?!” 
jisungs cheeks flush red with embarrassment but also with anger. his own friend laughing at his statement, finding amusement in his sorrows.
“are you serious? please tell me you're joking?” minho stutters through his giggles.
“dead serious.” jisung says, deadpan. “don't you see the way they are with each other? i saw you all the other day, in the cafeteria! chan's arm around yn and them being all…. lovey!!” 
“oh my god.” minho calms himself down. “you really are serious!”
“i told you! i even asked yn about it and well… it didn't go so well.”
“is that why you've been so moody and upset lately?” jisung nods his head slowly, feeling some type of guilt. minho sighs heavily, wondering how he can soften the blow of the news he's about to give his best friend.
“jisung…” minho starts. “yn and chan are not dating.” jisung's face drops.
“excuse me?”
“they're not dating. they're just childhood best friends. apparently they've known each other since they were kids. “
“so you're telling me.. that i got it all wrong when i saw you three in the cafeteria?“ minho slowly nods whilst giving a sympathetic smile. jisung sits back in his seat in disbelief. “why did chan never mention yn?! fuck, i fucked up… i really, really fucked up…” 
“oh, c’mon. it can't be that bad.” minho tries to lighten the situation.
“dude. i told her i thought she had standards! i called her best friend a whore!”
“i mean, chan is a whore. he knows he is and he doesn't hid–”
“dude, please.” jisung interrupts. “not right now.” minho shrugs and sips his coffee whilst jisung rubs his face whilst groaning. “what do i do?”
“well.” minho puts down his coffee. “you make it right. admit you were in the wrong. explain how you were a jealous lil guy because you like her and that you fucked up.”
“and how do i do that? she’s been avoiding me for weeks and it’s not like i can go up to her right now and be like oh hey yn, sorry i called your best friend a whore oh, by the way, i like you.” jisung mocks himself in a high pitched voice, his face turning red in frustration.
“you're so dramatic.” minho rolls his eyes with a soft, yet heavy sigh. “for a smart guy, you're pretty dumb too.”
“pft, am not!” jisung scoffs and folds his arms across his chest. “... only when it comes to stuff like this.” he mumbles. “i just… don't know what to do or how to fix it. i really, really like her, minho.”
“ok? and? what do you want me to do about it? there's no point telling me about your feelings for yn. i'm not the one that fucked up and then decided to hold myself up in my room to drown in my own self-pity.” minho says with a shrug.
to the outside world, minho's words sound harsh but to jisung, it's a reality check. 
he sighs softly for the nth time as he glances over at you. he watches you laugh and smile with chan, soaking in your beauty and the way you glow with happiness. 
“to make it easier for you.” minho breaks the few seconds of silence between the two, feeling a little responsible for his friend in need. “i may have mentioned your birthday party to yn.”
“what?! why?”
“bro, you weren't going to mention it! so i just.. did you a favour.” minho shrugs, a smug look on his face.
“... is she coming?”
minho shrugs. “dunno. she seemed interested at least but this was before you called her best friend a whore so–”
“that was an accident. i didn't mean to.. i just got too–”
“worked up? jealous perhaps?” minho says, or rather states, with a raised brow. jisung hums and nods his head slowly, teeth chewing on his bottom lip. 
minho chews on his straw as he watches his friend think. he can see the cogs turning in jisung's skull. jisung is inexperienced when it comes to relationships so seeing him like this, brings minho slight amusement.
“look, jisung. if she turns up, you approach her and apologise whilst also telling her how you feel.” minho holds his hand up to jisung who is just about to protest but is quick to close his mouth and listen. “if she doesn't turn up, you find her the next day, apologise and tell her how you feel. heck, text her if you have to!”
“dude… you know i can't do that!”
“ok. then you have the other option, which is to keep wallowing in your self pity and watch yn from the sidelines.” minho shrugs. “i don't know dude. be the main character for once. you clearly like her so take the chance.”
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jisung's birthday rolled around. you haven't heard nor spoken to him since the argument so you didn't originally plan on turning up to his birthday party; but chan being chan is forcing you to go as his plus one.
“is this ok?” you smooth down your party outfit as you present yourself to chan. chan is sitting at your dressing table, dressed in blue, skinny jeans, a compression shirt that hugs and molds his muscles and combat boots. a silver chain around his neck, earrings in one ear and a few rings on his fingers.
he looks up from his phone and smirks playfully. he wolf whistles at you to which you scoff and roll your eyes at.
“looking good there, yn.”
“really? i threw this together at the last minute.’
“you look great, don't worry. you're gonna knock ‘em dead.” chan laughs.
“i really don't want to go, chan.” you groan.
“weeeell, too late. you're coming with me to this party, even if i have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you there.”
chan has heard about your little argument with jisung from minho. the two of them had a drink together during the week and chan listened to minho vent about jisung.
once minho mentioned the fight did it all come together. you've been feeling down and withdrawn, not knowing what to do or how to deal with your feelings. you've put on a fake smile and basically faked your way through the weeks–but chan has known you for years so he can see through you, he just didn't want to press you.
you'll come to him when the time is right; you always do.
“do i have to?” you ask for the nth time whilst putting on your shoes. chan laughs at your contradicting actions and shakes his head before standing up.
“yes, you do. it'll be fun and hopefully, it'll lift your spirits.” you pout.
“i have been a little moody lately, haven't i?” chan raises his brows and scoffs.
“a little!? pur-lease! i thought knives were going to spawn out of your eyes at one point.”
“mhm.. i’m sorry chan. it's just been a long couple of weeks with a lot of thinking.” you sigh softly. chan elbows your side gently.
“hey. let's not think about that right now. let's go to this party, have a couple of drinks and a dance, yeah?” you nod slowly.
“not like i have a say in this.”
“that's my girl. now.” chan grabs your hand gently and pulls you to the front door. “let's go have some fuuuun!!!”
────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──
it's loud. the bass of the music rings in your ears and shakes the ground beneath you.
it smells. the stench of stale cigarettes, sweat and alcohol tickles your nostrils and causes you to feel lightheaded and nauseous.
you've tried several times to turn away and head back but chan was always right there.
chan abandoned you to go chat up some girls so you're sat on the sofa, surrounded by people making out, drinking or passing out (if they haven't already)
you hold your red, plastic solo cup which is filled halfway with some punch. the smell is pungent and the taste is awful. it's too strong for your liking so you take small, delicate sips.
as the night rolls on, you have yet to see jisung. not that you want to but, it would help you feel some comfort and less suffocated to see a familiar face.
you glance at your phone screen. 11:20 pm. it's soon time for you to leave. you don't want to be here any longer than you have to and considering that chan has left you alone, you don't feel the need to be here any more.
you stand up from the couch to walk to the kitchen. you shimmy your way in and out of crowds of people who are dancing, talking or making out with someone that they won't remember tomorrow.
you pour your drink down the sink and throw away your empty cup. as you're about to turn and leave, a familiar voice is heard from behind.
“yn. hi.”
you turn on your heels and a sense of relief washes over you as you come face to face with a face you've been longing to see (even if you don't want to admit it)
you forget why you're so angry at him for a split second. his beauty never fails to make you feel star struck and silently go “wow.” but then you remember.
“hi.” you reply coldly.
“can i talk to you?” he shouts, hoping his voice isn't drowned out by the music.
“not right now. i was just about to leave.” you walk past him to leave. jisung grabs your arm gently to stop you. you look at him and he is quick to remove his hand.
“please? just… let me explain…” he chews his bottom lip, his brows scrunched together in the middle. you think for a second and sigh softly, nodding slowly.
“ok. fine. but make it quick.” you swear you see the corner of jisung's lips curl into a subtle smile, his eyes lighting up a little. he beckons you to follow him so you do.
you follow him outside. compared to inside, where it's hot and humid, the harsh, cold night air is refreshing and soothes your damp skin.
“look.” he starts as he stops walking to turn to you. “i know i was a complete asshole.” you scoff but don't say anything. “it's just… aah fuck, how do i say this.”
you watch jisung slowly become flustered. the tips of his ears turn red, his hands clammy as he shakes a little. he shuffles on his feet to shift his weight and avoids eye contact with you.
“fuck.. this is so hard… minho said it'd be easy once i get talking but fuck minho.” jisung rambles to himself. the anger you felt slowly disappears and is replaced with… joy? 
your stomach feels a little bubbly and tingly with excitement as you watch this nerd, whom you've grown so accustomed to, become easily flustered and shy because of you.
“just say what's on your mind, jisung.” you say with a shrug. his eyes flicker at you for a second before looking to the ground.
“ok.. well…” he takes a deep breath. ”i like you and i always have and the reason why i got so pissed and called chan a whore, who i later found out was your childhood best friend, was because i was jealous of how close he was to you and i saw red and i didn't mean it. in fact, i've been cooped up in my bedroom in my own self-pity because i'm a coward and i don't deserve someone as wonderful as you and i’m really sorry. can you forgive me for being a lil silly?”
you blink at him several times. jisung dared take a breath during his little speech so all the information that has suddenly been laid on you, isn't going through your head right now.
“ah fuck.. i fucked up again, haven't i?” jisung shakes, his voice wavering as it breaks the tension in the air. his nerves shaking his body as a shaky hand picks at the skin around his fingernails. “god i knew i shouldn't have said anything. why did i take minho's dumb advice.”
“i… i don't know what to say, jisung. it's all so much.” you say in pure shock.
“oh, that's ok! i’m not looking for an answer right now. please, take your time. i just wanted you to know my true feelings and why i acted out. the last thing i want is for you to feel forced.”
“so let me get this straight. the reason you acted out is because you got jealous of chan, thinking that we were dating?” you watch jisung slowly nod his head, his cheeks turning pink; whether that's from embarrassment or from the harsh cold air. “and that you.. like me?”
jisung nods again. “silly, right?” he laughs, trying to soothe himself of the raging anxiety that's heavy in his heart and stomach.
“no.. no! not at all. i think it's kinda… cute.” 
“cute?”
“yeah. i mean, well, being away from you has got me thinking about me, you and well.. us and how i feel.” jisung walks closer to you, closing the gap between you both.
“and how do you feel, yn?” you swallow a little. the atmosphere has suddenly shifted between you both. jisung is close to you, his body daring to press against you.
you can see every detail of his honey skin under the faint moonlight. the cold breeze sweeps between his hair strands. a faint hint of cinnamon and apple from his aftershave tickles and hugs your nose making you inhale deeply for more.
“at first, i was angry at you. i didn't understand why you were so angry. but i spoke to chan about it and during the conversation, he made me realise something.”
“what?” jisung encourages. he gingerly places his hands on your waist, unsure and testing the waters. his touch is as light as a feather and when you don't push him away, his grip becomes firm. 
“that maybe, i like you too and i have for the longest time. i just never realised it because i thought you hated me but, when we spent all that time together, i started to notice the smallest of things about you and i found them to be so cute. but they're cute because it's you.” 
you slowly run your hands up his chest to his shoulder. his breath hitches and body trembles from your touch. with more confidence, jisung pulls your body flush against his own, closing the gap completely.
“so, you like me too?” his voice dips to a whisper. you hum and nod slowly. “do you have any idea how happy that makes me?”
“why don't you show me.” you whisper against his lips, teasing him by brushing yours against his slowly and gently. they feel soft and plump, kissable even. 
“you're playing a dangerous game, yn. you have no idea how long i've wanted you.”
“show me.” you whisper again, furthering your teasing by ever so lightly licking his bottom lip with the tip of your tongue.
“fuck.” jisung groans. his lips crash against yours in a heated kiss that's filled with longing. your eyes widen a little but are quick to flutter close. you melt into the kiss, the both of you becoming synchronised instantly.
you tilt your head to the side a little to allow jisung to deepen the kiss. he licks your bottom lip and you part your lips slowly.
his tongue slides in to meet yours and you're in a battle of dominance that you lose. jisung's hot kisses make you melt and crave for more. you forget about your surroundings, forget where you are. everything is a buzz in your ears and you can only focus on you, jisung and how your body is tingling and twitching.
jisung is the first to pull away. he pants heavily, his own body trembling with excitement. 
“wow.” you hum in agreement. as soon as his lips are off yours, you want them back on you again; whether that's on your own lips or on your body, you don't care as long as you get to feel the softness again.
“is this real?” he asks.
“it's real.” you respond, giggling softly. “and i’m not drunk either so.”
“so, what does this make us?” jisung cautiously asks. he wants to have an idea of what you two are slowly becoming. he wants to make sure you're both on the same page.
“whatever you want us to be, jisung.”
“well, i want you to be mine. i want to show you off to the world, proudly. i want everyone to know that you belong to me. i want to spend every single second of the day with you and during the night, i want to spend every single second caressing your body from head to toe. i want to soak myself in every single bit of detail from your body. i want to drown you in pleasure and my love.” 
you swallow and let out a small, shaky breath at the implications behind his words. your body trembles with excitement and anticipation from where tonight is going to end and for the future with jisung.
“then.. shall we go ditch the party and go back to mine? because i want that too.” with a fast nod of the head, jisung holds your hand and is quick to make way to yours.
“let's go and let's be quick. i want to make you mine, in more ways than one.”
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rueclfer · 6 months ago
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shut up, my moms calling // touya todoroki pt two
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a/n: req from one of yall who sent in multiple prompts a lil bit ago!!! hi anon i hope u see this <3 also not to be lazy but i'm gonna piggyback this req off of this touya fic of mine as a pt 2 to save myself the contextualizing.. so read that one too lmao.
also i def got ambitious and FAR from the req but i still hope you enjoyed heh..
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"Scoot over, Touya, you're taking up the entire bed." You huff, actively elbowing him in the chest.
"You mean my bed?" He whines. "This is why I never want to share the bed with you. You're a blanket AND pillow hog, and I always get shoved all the way to the edge.
"Get your ass on the floor then." You shove him harder, in which he retaliates by grabbing your wrists.
"I always sleep on the fucking floor. Either you deal with sharing a bed, or you take the floor this time."
"So annoying." You mutter under your breath, wriggling out of his grasp and accepting your defeat.
It was nearly 2am and you two had not seen each other all day, which resulted in him being clingier than usual, of course. Touya would never admit it, but you had him all figured out. Quality time may be his top love language, but when that love-tank is low, he immediately defaults to physical touch, making it nearly impossible for you to get away from him if you really wanted to,
After much adjustments, you two silently settled on a position where your face was pressed against his chest, facing each other with your arms wrapped around one another and legs intertwined.
"Can you breathe?" He mutters against your forehead.
"Mmhm." You sigh against his chest in content. "You're so warm and you don't smell like shit for once."
"Stop talking." He hums, letting himself run his hand through your hair, lightly massaging your scalp.
You could melt at this moment. With your fingers drawing circles on his back paired with his own in your hair, you could feel yourself savoring this moment forever, locking it in your memories.
It had been a couple of weeks since you two exchanged your first kisses at the river, and not a single word about it had been uttered about it since. There was no way to bring it up to him again without feeling awkward, but it had plagued your mind everyday- multiple times a day. If you could slap yourself across the face every time you let the memory fluster you, you would. After all, your friendship continued as if nothing happened.
"Did Fuyumi tell you?" You whisper, looking up to meet his eyes.
"Tell me what?" His eyes remain closed.
"That Keigo kid asked me out the other day."
His eyes pop open and meet yours. All motion stops. He snakes his hand from your scalp to grab your shoulder and leans back to get a better view of your face.
"The fuck? Keigo? The other day?"
You nod your head in response.
"Why the hell did you tell Fuyumi before me?" His eyebrows furrow.
"I don't know! Keep your voice down." You hush. "It was a girl thing." You shrug.
"A girl thing..." He rolls his eyes. "And what did you tell him?"
You nervously fiddle with the back of his shirt, piling it in fistfuls.
"I said I would get back to him about it." You nervously chuckle. "Is that bad? It caught me off guard so I didn't know what to say."
He huffs out a chuckle before closing the space between you two again, moving his hand to your lower back and tracing a finger against the skin exposed by your shirt lifting
"Good. Tell him it's a no next time you see him."
"What? But what if it's a yes?"
"It's not. He's an asshole and an idiot." He yawns into your hairline, and rubs his cheek against your forehead.
You pinch the skin on his waist, bringing his attention back to you. "You don't get to decide that for me, dipshit."
"Never in a million years will he fucking deserve you, Y/N. Fuyumi probably told you the same thing." He returns the pinch, pulling back once again.
He was right. She did in fact tell you the same exact thing.
"Sounds like you're just jealous. What, one kiss and all of the sudden you're in love with me?" You tease. "Can't handle seeing me with another guy?"
You didn't know what you were doing, or how those words slipped off your tongue. You bit your cheeks in regret the moment you felt his body stiffen against yours.
"Jealous? As fucking if. I'm just being a good best friend. Do what you want, but if he breaks your heart then don't come back crying to me."
Just like that, he easily averted the mention of your kiss- which of course annoyed you.
"Fine. Let me actually text him right now. Maybe as my bestest friend ever, you can help me draft it." You feel around under your pillow for your phone.
You open your text chain with Keigo, hovering your thumbs over the keyboard. "Alright let's see." You began reading out loud as you type. "Hey Keigo, thought about it, and I think you're really sweet and so sexy and would love to-"
Before you could continue, Touya slaps the phone out of your hand, letting it hit the ground behind him with a harsh thud.
"Touya!" You scold after a loud gasp of shock.
You shove him hard onto his back, swinging a leg over him in order to reach down and attempt to retrieve your phone from the other side of the bed. You couldn't help but feel a bit of satisfaction from this obvious outburst of jealousy. Maybe in some sense, it validated the thread of tension hanging between you two that he had seemingly been ignoring.
"I knew it, you jealous fuckin-" You start before the bedroom door swings open, causing you to duct down under the covers.
"Touya? Y/N? Are you guys okay in there? I heard someth-" Rei begins, stopping the moment she sees the abandoned floor mattress next to the bed and your silhouette straddling Touya.
"Mom!" Touya whines, nearly shoving you off of him to jump out of bed. "Knock next time, please." He huffs as he bends down to pick up your phone, tossing it on the bed next to you.
"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry guys." She covers her mouth in shock.
Rei flips on the light switch and audibly releases a sigh of relief to confirm that you two were indeed still fully clothed.
"Do you guys....have... you know." She begins, stammering over her words. "Are you guys being safe? You know, I don't care what you do as long as you're both safe, okay? Also, please be a little quieter. I know it's a weekend, but everyone is sleeping."
Your eyes widen in horror after grasping onto what she was insinuating. You smash your face into the comforter in embarrassment.
"Rei, I promise you we weren't..." You pop your head up and wave your hands out in denial. "We were just talking and Touya just.." You motion to him. "Tell her, dumbass!" You throw a pillow at him.
"We are not having sex, mom. Y/N's just being stupid." He presses his lips together in a tight line. "But we will use protection if we do. Thanks."
"Oh my god, but we're not going to." You quickly quip in. "I promise we'll keep it down. So sorry for waking you."
You wanted to melt into the floor and disintegrate all together. You shove your face in your hands to hide your humiliation. Your body was hot all over and were suddenly sweating through your pajama shirt.
"Great! Alright then. We'll talk more in the morning." She nervously chuckles. "Goodnight guys, and please keep it down."
The moment the door clicks shut, you turn and slap his shoulder.
"What the fuck?!" You whisper-yell. "But we will use protection if we do? Are you insane? I can never sleep over again, that was so embarrassing." You cry.
"Chill out, it's fine." He laughs, picking up the thrown pillows off of the floor. "Embarrassing yeah, but would you be surprised if I told you that wasn't the first time she tried giving me the talk? About you specifically? At least you don't have to hear that shit."
"About me?!" You exclaim. "Shut the fuck up, no way?"
Touya settles back into bed on his back with his hands behind his head while you sit criss-crossed right next to him, cooling down from the embarrassment.
"Mmhm. Like twice already." He nods his head.
"Does she know that we're not dating or anything?" You cock an eyebrow. "She definitely knows that, right?"
"Well yeah, no shit." He shoots you a sideways glance. "But you don't have to be dating to...do all that."
"What does she say about me?"
"I don't know, of a whole bunch of bullshit I already know?" He begins tapping his fingers on your knee. "Like 'oh, Touya, Y/N's really sweet and we love them, but you have to treat them nice and I know teenage feelings are complicated, but if you really like them and want to ever do anything more, just have really good communication and practice safe sex. Always!"
"Rei has such a way with words." You say through gritted teeth, finally laying down besides him, both now looking up at the glow in the dark stars plastered on the ceiling.
"Yeah, so if you ever wanted to do another 'science experiment,' she got us condoms. It's in the first drawer on the nightstand next to you."
Your jaw drops and you slap a hand over to cover your gaping mouth. The heat returns to your face.
"She did not." You choke out, snapping your head towards him.
"She did." He chuckles. "I told her you literally just got your first kiss and didn't think you would need them anytime soon, but ya know she likes to be careful I guess."
"Wait, you told her we kissed?"
You scooted closer to Touya, now looking at him on your side while he remained on his back looking upwards.
"Mom-senses are kinda scary. When you left the next day, she said we were acting weird and grilled it outta me." He shrugs. "I was honest. Guess that's what triggered this safe sex bullshit."
"God dammit, Touya. So she 100% thinks we're together." You press your lips together.
"You act like that's the worst thing in the world." He shoots you a side glance. You said nothing.
Since that night, you often thought about the possibility of being "more than friends" with Touya, but you couldn't help but shake off the lingering thought that maybe the "science experiment" of a kiss was all that it was for him- nothing but an experiment. You weren't too sure what to do with the possibility that it was something more meaningful for you in that case.
"Anyways, she probably has her own thoughts and opinions, but I told her we're not."
"I see." You mutter. "What are your thoughts and opinions?"
"About... being together? Like that?" He glances over to you.
"Keigo asking me out, the kiss, and your mom thinking we're together and stuff, everything in between."
You watch his face carefully as he takes a second to think about his answers. You see the gears turning in his head, but not quite sure what would come out of his mouth.
"You first." He quickly spits out.
You deadpan. "You know what? Nevermind. Goodnight, dipshit." You turn around, facing away from him and pull the covers up to your chin.
"Okay okay okay, come back. I'll spill my heart out for you if that's what you really wanna hear at 2am right now." You could hear the annoyance in his voice, bringing a smile back to your face.
You cheerily turn back around to see him back on his side, facing you now.
"Perfect. Go on." You say, shoving your leg in between his own.
"So Keigo." He starts.
"Mmhm."
"Annoys the living shit out of me. Genuinely. And I'd hate to see you waste your time on that sorry motherfucker, but if you actually do like him, which I don't see how, do what you want. I come first though, don't forget it. Best friend priorities."
"See, I knew you were jealous." You smile. "I don't think I was considering it anyways, but nice to hear your big boy thoughts about it, you cutiepie."
"That's what I thought. Why the fuck would you need him when you have me?" He smirks.
You roll your eyes. "Okay, now tell me how you feel about your mom thinking we're bonking."
"Idiot." He chuckles. "I don't really give a fuck about what she thinks? We got free condoms- use them, don't use them, take some for Keigo if you ever wanted to do some charity work, I don't care, but she can think what she wants to think."
"What about your thoughts on us being together?" You mutter. "Like hypothetically just to humor her suspicions."
He stops and stares at you for a second, biting his bottom lip as he thinks.
"Uh. Let me get back to you about that one."
You wave it off. "Okay fine, so then the kiss."
"I want you to go first for that, and you can't get mad at me because the kiss was for you... mostly."
You hesitated for a moment, sighing in place of an answer. You weren't quite sure how much, if any, information to reveal about your true feelings about it all. "The kiss... was... definitely a kiss?" You breathe out awkwardly "It was nice. Really nice. And I enjoyed it."
"Okay. Ditto and ditto." He nods, motioning for you to continue.
"And I don't necessarily know what this means, but I think about it a lot. Like. A lot." You emphasize. "I don't know, maybe it means nothing."
"Okay...so you wanna do it again?"
It seemed like your brain short circuited for a moment.
"Hah?" You blink.
"Well, I think about it a lot too. And I also don't really know what that means or how to feel about it, so maybe... we can do it for science again...a 2.0?" You hear the hesitation in his voice.
"Like do it again to confirm our final thoughts?" You furrow your eyebrows.
"Yup."
"I see."
"Only if you want. I don't really care either way. Up to you." He quips. "I just.. am confused."
You roll your eyes. "Don't even try to act so nonchalant when you're the one asking for me to kiss your stupid ass again. You want me so bad." You joke to alleviate the thick fog of tension filling the room.
"Yeah, want you to shut the fuck up." He mutters in an annoyed tone. "Yes or no."
"Yes, fine." You squeak out, tensing when his hand meets your cheek. "I guess it would be good.. for science."
"Okay cool." He huffs. "Relax." He says under his breath, pulling you in closer to him. "We know what we're doing now, don't we?"
You reciprocate his movements, letting your hand rest against the side of his face, swiping your thumb back and forth on the skin under his eye.
"I'm nervous." You whisper, glancing back and forth between his lips and eyes.
The tip of your noses were grazing each other's, and lips just mere inches from meeting.
"Still? Well don't be. It's just me." He lightly rubs his nose against your own, eyes glued on your lips, and occasionally glances back up to meet your eyes. "And we've done this before, remember?"
He stares at you through a beat of silence and drags a thumb across your bottom lip. "Don't freak out."
He closes the gap between you two before you could respond, instantly melting under his touch.
Compared to your first kiss together, this one felt hotter, needier, and more desperate from the way he pulled you even closer to his body by the waist and locked your legs in between his own, as if you were in for the devouring.
You were tense, but feeling his hand tenderly cup your cheek made you feel a bit more secure, letting yourself lean deeper into the kiss.
Chills ran up your spine the moment his other hand met the exposed skin lower back, playing with the hem of your tee shirt.
"Is that okay?" He asks against your lips, letting his fingers start to crawl up under the fabric.
You nod your head in silence as your stomach erupts in flutters and flames, heightening every sensation of him exploring your bare skin.
"This is where you're the most ticklish." He smiles against your lips, moving his hand up the curve of your waist.
"This is where I kicked you on the swing set when we were 13." Rubbing the soft space between your shoulder blades, pecking your lips in between words. "Sorry, by the way."
"I forgive you." Your breath out a laugh before pressing your lips back to his.
"And you have a freckle right here." He grips the space where your spine meets your neck.
"How do you know that?"
"I'm observant."
Your own hand makes its way to the back of his head from his cheek. Your fingers become entangled with the hair on the nape of his neck, lightly twirling a lock between your pointer and thumb. You tug on the silvery locks, gifting you a throaty, hungry groan from him.
You snap back in shock, meeting his own set of wide eyes.
"Okay let's stop there." He coughs, snaking his arm back from under your shirt and turning on his back to dart his eyes away from your own.
You slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your nervous laughter after you ground yourself back to reality.
"Shut up." He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.
"Sorry. That good, huh?"
"No shit." He huffs, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Anyways, back to the point, horn-dog." He faces you.
You were lucky the only source of light was the haze of moonlight shining through the window on the other side of the room. If there was any more light, you were sure he would be able to see your embarrassingly flushed face.
"Right, the point." You cough. "So... thoughts?"
"You want me to be real with you?"
"Duh."
"I don't know who you've been practicing on for these past couple of weeks, but that was good. So much better than the first time- not saying you did a shit job, but yeah a lot better."
You blush at the half-assed compliment and bring your hand up to his forehead to flick him right between the eyes. "The other thoughts, dumbass. How do you feel?"
"I'm not sure if I want to say...yet." He continues, gauging your reaction.
"What?" You groan. "You said you'd be real with me."
"Well, what do you think I'll say? Or hoping?" He cocks an eyebrow.
That it feels real. That you want me as much as I want you. That this won't change anything between us. That this isn't a science experiment. That you're in love with me.
"I don't know." You shrug. "I guess I just want to know if I could ever be relationship material? Like after the kiss and knowing me, am I hopeless or what?"
"That's why you asked about us hypothetically being together?"
"Uh, yes?" You bit down on your bottom lip.
"Oh." He mumbled, shifting awkwardly.
A beat of silence passes while he thinks for a moment.
"I think that Keigo might be the smartest fucker out there right now. It pains me to see you act like a lovesick puppy for people who don't see how cool and great and how much of a catch you are and I'm sorry that Keigo just so happens to be someone that does." He sighs.
"Actually, scratch that." He continues. "I'm the smartest fucker out there. I've been known how fucking great you are." He laughs. "Yeah fuck Keigo. He's has good taste, but fuck him because I've been doing it first."
You chuckle a bit, your heart swelling at the turn-around of a compliment. "Yeah, but at least he likes me-like me. Enough to ask me out."
Touya goes quiet, lips pressed together in a tight line.
"Well to answer your question fully, I think my mom is onto something."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Like if I could've been better at communication, then we would've been together a long time ago."
"As in..." You start, waiting for him to continue as the air is sucked out of your lungs.
"As in, I like you-like you."
"You like me-like me... as in have feelings for me?" You draw out, staring at him in shock.
He nods in response.
"Since the first time we kissed?"
"Since the first time we met, actually."
Your mouth gapes open with no words coming out, digesting this sudden confession.
"You're fucking with me right now?" You whisper, clutching onto fistfuls of the comforter.
"I wish, but I'm not." He sighs, reaching a finger up to push a stray hair behind your ear. "I wasn't going to say anything, but you're such a dumbass who always talks down on yourself and it makes me sick. You have to know that there is at least one person in this world who would burn everything else down if it was your happiness on the line. I really fucking like you and I'd rather die than let that ruin our friendship, okay?"
In this moment, both of you were holding your own breaths, not quite sure if any sudden movement might burst this moment between you. Touya inherently knew it was time to tell you how he felt and that he couldn't go the rest of his life scaring away potential lovers while being terrified to claim the position himself. You, on the other hand, agreed that if anything did jeopardize your relationship with him, you wouldn't forgive yourself.
"I'm scared. I don't want to ruin our friendship either." You choke out with tears beginning to flood your eyes, causing his own to widen in panic.
"Hey whoa, what are you crying for?" He scoots in closer to you, holding you against his chest. "Seriously Y/N, I tell you I like you, and you start crying? God, just call me a piece of shit already." He chuckles, wrapping his arm around you.
"It's not that." You muffled into his now tear stained shirt. "It's that I like you too and I don't know what to do about it, but I don't want to ruin us or risk anything that will."
He takes a sharp intake of air, and continues to rub circles against your back.
"Well, I'll have you as much as you'll give me. Don't worry about it, okay? I love you- as my closest friend, favorite human being, my other half. All of it."
"What do we do?" You whisper, looking up at him.
"Uhh...sleep and talk about it tomorrow? Sit on it?"
"You think I can fucking sleep now?" You whine. "What's wrong with you?"
"You're cute." He smiles, moving his hand from your back to your cheek, rubbing away the dampness of the tears. "Alright then you tell me, what do we do? The ball is in your court."
"What would it look like if we started dating?" You asked.
"Exactly this? More kissing? Putting those condoms to use?"
You slap his shoulder. "Fucking idiot."
"Okay. Then, what if we don't start dating?" You huff, your face burning now.
"Same thing maybe? Less kissing? Condoms collecting dust?" He shrugs. "I guess I'll keep taking the floor for sleepovers?"
"You're not going to try to go out with anyone else?"
"I'll just wait for you."
You pout at the simple tenderness of his answer. You wanted to stay like this forever- close to him, the warmth of his body radiating into your own, your hands all over each other. You knew that it was possible too. To stay here.
"I think, maybe we can do it." You finalize. "Or try to, at least."
"Really?" He tips your chin upwards to meet his surprised eyes. "You really want to try?"
"I do. I'm scared, and I think you are too so if we put our fears together, we can't fuck this up, right?" You nervously joke. "For the sake of Rei too. Let's prove her right."
He leans down and presses a kiss on your forehead, simultaneously reaching over to your hand and locking his pinky in with yours, solidifying an unspoken promise to one another.
I love you. You're my best friend. You're my other half. We'll always try.
1K notes · View notes
henneseyhoe · 3 months ago
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Right Where I Want You.
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Terry Richmond x BLACK!FEM!Reader
WARNINGS: Rough sex (Nothing too serious, she just chokes him a lil), Dirty talk, DOM!reader, SUB!Terry, Mommy kink (yeah you heard me, we get real nasty over here..), PW/OP, Short!, Not completely proof read.
SUMMARY: nah. lol
✮✮✮✮
the sound of clapping could be heard from the next room over even with the door closed. They both made no moves to quiet down either, the squeaky springs of the bed only applauded her on her bouncing, giving her the praises she needed for taking a dick this size. The stretch was delicious, the girth making her feel stuffed, and the length reaching places so deep that she could barely sit down all the way.
But how she rode was already enough for Terry, she didn’t have to sit all the way. He was already so gone. The way Terry was moaning her name with curses following, you’d think that was the only english he knew.
Her heels dug into the bed beneath them, the sensation of the soft silks against his bare skin heightening his pleasure. He had begged her just minutes before to use him, fuck him into his own bed and leave him wondering why you hadn’t come along sooner, why he didn’t come find you instead. He didn’t care if it was pathetic, there was some things he could live with happily without embarrassment. There was just something about you that could make a man kneel at your feet, cry, even.
“Enjoying yourself?”
She asks before moaning, her head lulling back for a second as she felt the tip of him brush over exactly where she wanted him the most. Her voice was so tantalizing, laced with a sweetheart tone and dominance as she knew she could take away what he needed the most in this moment; a tight pussy gripping his dick and a nut that would send him to another dimension. She knew damn well he was doing more than enjoying himself.
His abs tightened under his brown skin and he cried out, opting to hold onto the headboard instead of her hips to avoid her stopping like she did last time he touched her without permission.
“Fuck, baby!”
His hips bucked wildly as the sensitivity of him became almost unbearable. He hadn’t even came yet, multiple orgasms purposely ruined being the reason for the constant tightness in his balls and stomach. She, on the other hand, had already came three times. On his fingers, on his face, on that dick. Her cream stuck to his shaft and balls, making wet, sticky sounds every time her fat ass bounced back down on him, making him release another spurt of precum into her walls.
Her cream was still warm, used as lube to help her ride that thick dick efficiently enough to have him seeing stars.
And stars he did indeed see, the glasses perched on his nose providing no help with vision as he clenched his eyes closed.
“You boutta cum for me, baby? You know better to ask mommy first”
She runs her pierced tongue over her lips and begins rubbing her poor little clit with her dominant hand, ignoring the indescribable pain from sensitivity that also somehow brought her pleasure. She used her other hand to slowly wrap itself around Terry’s throat, squeezing slightly to bring him out his euphoric daze.
Once he had opened his eyes, he got to admire her again, eyes flickering from her pretty face to the urging hand between her thighs.
She went even harder on him, staring into his piercing eyes with a clear desire to break him just in case any other bitch thought she could do what she does to him. No one else could have him, a grown man, begging to be fucked, on his knees with his face in her lap.
“You like when I fuck you like this. You like when I use you” She guides him into a nod, a satisfied smile on her face as he agrees.
“Yes- fuck!”
“Mhmm. You love this pussy don’t you?”
“Yes, yes, yes! I love this pussy, mommy”
His words sent her into overdrive. That was the first time he had ever compiled and called her the self given pet name. She knew he was right where she wanted him now. There was nothing he wouldn’t say or do for her.
“Cum inside me, baby. Fill mommy up”
✮✮✮✮
💌- ngl this was just sumn sweet for the fuckin kids till december 🥴 did NOT mean for it to be like dis!
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beawhatchumean · 8 months ago
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FINALLY THEY COMPLETED!!
the true complete experience of the SWK & Macaque shimeji (for those that like the ship or duo me guess)
LMK SHADOWPEACH SHIMEJI VER 1.0!!
Just click on the big words and ya can download, ye :D
Contains 2 zipfiles: The normal version and less frames version
Read down below for explanations on that
if got any problems launching and stuff, dont be afraid to message me, i'll try to help ya out :>
but as seen in the quick lil poster i made there, it says extra animation + more more info about that underneath the read 👇
so first things first,
SAME LIKE PREVIOUS ONES
this is the same thing like the previous shimejis. actually its the same ones skskksk. so I wont waste time here. like:
extra animation
custom action name
custom action
non-symmetrical shimeji
REMINDER FOR THE NON-SYMMETRICAL SHIMEJI
same thing like the macaque one, I made versions where he has symmetry & doesnt. so if you dont want your pc to lag, do get the less frames version
PLEASE DOWNLOAD THE LESS FRAME VERSION TO NOT FRY YOUR PC'S!!
SPECIAL INTERACTION CODING
this is where the special parts of this specific shimeji comes into play. it is coded where the SWK & mackie shimeji can interact with each other and in this case
THEY HUG!!
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This is how they function:
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One of the target shimeji must be in "Hug?" mode
The other shimeji will scan if there is a shimeji in "Hug?" mode, and then activate "Hug!" mode
"Hug!" shimeji will run after the "Hug?" shimeji and activate the hug action
then they hug :]
This can happen via you searching up in the settings or it happens by itself
It can work either way, either Wukong initiates "Hug?" or mackie does it, and they both have their own responding hug action, I'll let you discover what it looks like yourself ;]
UPDATES WILL HAPPEN!!
for now, this is the only interaction action so far but i do love to add more later on, maybe a kiss interaction action or maybe a hand holding interaction where they become one conjoined shimeji
but for now that is all ideas and whether they can work, up for future me to test
BUT DO STAY TUNED >;3
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
but for now that will be all for ver 1.0
many thanks to anyone interested in this project and of course
BIGGEST THANKS TO THOSE THAT HELPED BETA TEST THEM
for privacy reason they shall stay anonymous still but
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤ >:3
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eternally-racing · 1 year ago
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baby steps | lando norris
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pairing: lando norris x wife!reader (plus their adorable lil kiddo) 
genre: fluff
warnings: none 
word count: 2.5k
summary: Lando needs a little bit of encouragement to head off to his first race after the birth of your daughter, so what better thing to do than surprise him on race day?
note: this fic can be read as a stand alone or as part of the racer girl series !
---
When you first showed Lando the two lines on your positive pregnancy test, your entire world had changed. It felt like such a whirlwind of excitement, and before you knew it you were 9 months pregnant watching Lando’s races on television. It was pure luck that your water only broke the day after the season ended, which meant that Lando had a cherished couple of months with your baby girl, Piper, before heading back to racing. 
The two of them had become quite the dynamic duo in your household. From the moment that Lando first looked at your daughter, he knew that he was in love. He was an amazing father and you told him exactly that at every moment you could. It was one of the biggest fears that Lando had, being an absent father or not knowing what to do. Before you met Lando he was fully in his bachelor lifestyle, not once even thinking of kids, but now he was the biggest girl dad you’ve ever seen, giving into your daughter’s every whim. It’s exactly why Lando says he wants to give up racing all together once he sees your daughter cry for the first time when he leaves to go to the MTC for the first time since she was born - he would do anything for Piper, he would give up everything he loved if it meant that his little girl would be happy. Luckily, he had you to keep him grounded, and after more than a couple of tearful conversations you had helped Lando make peace with continuing on with his career with you and your daughter there to support him in the background. This was the first week that this was truly going to be tested though, since it was finally time for him to fly to Bahrain. 
“Say goodbye to daddy!” you say as you pick up your daughter’s hand to make her wave. 
You can see the way the wheels are turning in Lando’s head as he stays frozen in the entryway. He’s not forgetting anything, there’s no way he could with your packing lists that he’s used for every single race since you started dating. Even if he did forget something, he knows he could easily get someone from the team to either shop for him or send it over.
“Y/N I - , I don’t know anymore about this,” Lando mutters with his grip on the door handle loosening. 
“Lan, cmon now, I can’t have two babies in this house at once.” you joke as you pinch his cheek. “But seriously, you’re gonna be okay? Just do your best out there. I’m only a phone call away all the time if you need me. You’re going to be great and we’re cheering you on from here. I’ll send you all the pictures and videos and everything so it’ll feel like you’re still with us.”
While Piper can’t talk yet, she still reaches out to Lando to gently pat his shoulder - which only brings more tears to the forefront of Lando’s eyes. He always said his daughter was smart beyond her years, able to sense things even some adults don’t notice. 
“What if Piper can’t fall asleep without me reading her story? What if she learns how to walk before I’m gone? Or what if she forgets that I even exist?” 
“First off, I have memorized “the Rainbow Fish” perfectly from the 7 different times you taught me it. She’s not going to walk because she’s barely 8 months old. And lastly, she’s not going to forget you Lando, I promise you that. Do you trust me?” 
Lando doesn’t miss a beat when he says “always.” 
You hand your daughter off to Lando’s arms in exchange for the carry on that’s currently in his hands. You know that all he needs to do is hold her, to remember that feeling of being with her so he can keep that memory with him for the week ahead. You’re not the only one who’s noticed the way that Piper always immediately seems to calm down whenever she’s in her dad’s arms. There was something special between the two of them, something so unbreakable - which is exactly what you tell Lando. 
“Plus I think she’s in that phase where she’s starting to like you better, so I could use some alone time with our little bug” you tease as you squish your daughter’s cheeks. When Lando sees you cracking jokes it makes him feel a little more at ease - if you were so comfortable with this then why shouldn’t he be too? With one last hug and kiss, Lando finally walks out the door with a promise to facetime you once he gets to the airport. 
Piper starts crying the second she realizes that her dad is really gone, and honestly you shed a few tears too.
 “Don’t worry Pipes, we’re going to see daddy sooner than you think,” you whisper to your daughter as you try to soothe her. Little did Lando know that you had a bag packed in your bedroom for you and your daughter to surprise him at the paddock on race day.
The expectations were low for Lando in Bahrain, both from the media and from himself. He had been very upfront about having different priorities this summer than just racing, so he had been a write-off in so many people’s minds. That’s what made it even sweeter when Lando saw the checkered flag first in Bahrain, marking the very first time he had ever won at the circuit. It’s no secret that Lando had become more sensitive since he had become a dad, but when he says “This one is for my girls, I love you Y/N and Piper” over the radio, it brings tears to everyone’s eyes. 
Lando is already over the moon. He gives a big cheer to the roaring crowd before going to hug the rest of the team. It’s absolutely electric and it really seems like everyone, regardless of whether they are a McLaren fan or not, could appreciate how much this win meant to him. 
But the sweetest moment is when he spots you. You’re a little bit off to the side, a couple of security guards standing around you to make sure that nobody would try and trample over you and Piper. Little Piper is wearing a pair of noise canceling McLaren branded headphones on her ears as she hangs out happily in your arms. It’s like she spots her dad at the same time too, since she starts waving her arms in Lando’s direction. Lando immediately stops everything he’s doing to run over to you two. You have a knowing look in your eye, like you were just waiting for him to finally spot you both. 
“Oh my god, you’re here.”  Lando lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. Having you both here makes him finally feel complete, like his heart was finally whole again. 
“There’s no way we were going to miss daddy’s first race of the season. Congratulations, babe” 
Lando has questions of course - how you managed to pull this off without him noticing, whether Piper gave you trouble on the plane, and so much more. For now, though, he just wants to spend time with you two. He almost forgets that he’s at the race entirely, let alone that he won it until a team member comes up behind him to ask him if he’s ready to do his interview 5 minutes from now. 
When Piper reaches over with her little grabby hands for Lando, you of course give into her whims as you pass her over to the sweaty driver. It also gives you a second to pull out your phone and capture the moment for yourself. Piper is playing with the visor on Lando’s helmet, learning a new form of peek a boo that you know that she’s going to want to keep playing when you get home. You’re the one who helps keep Lando on track, giving him one last kiss on his helmet before you tell him to head off towards the hoard of media personnel eagerly awaiting his appearance. When you go to take Piper back from him she refuses to budge, and with both Piper and Lando giving you their classic puppy dog eyes, you know you’re outnumbered. 
“Keep her safe, Lan, okay?” It’s a rhetorical question. You know that Lando wouldn’t let anything happen to her - but it’s still a big crowd, the biggest you’ve ever been since you gave birth, and it’s a little scary to not hold onto her here. 
You don’t think anyone has ever seen Will Buxton this happy as he pulls Lando aside for his post-race interview. 
“I have to say, congratulations on an absolutely brilliant drive from you today, Lando - and would you like to introduce the special guest you’ve brought with you?” Will asks with a grin. 
Lando can’t help the similar smile that is etched on his face as he looks at his little girl. “This is my daughter Piper, and she’s just the best thing that has ever happened to me. And I can’t share enough praise for my beautiful wife Y/N too - words can’t describe how much she means to me.I really wouldn’t be standing here in front of you today without her support.”  Lando looks back at you with a smile and kisses Piper on the cheek to end off his sentence, but Piper seems to be more interested in the texture of the mic than her dad at the moment. 
“What does it mean to you to have this be your first win as a father, Lando?” 
“Oh man, this little girl is everything to me - I just want to do my best on the track so that Piper can look back and always be proud to have me as her dad.” 
The moment is made extra sweet as Piper tosses and turns in Lando’s hold so that she can cling to him like a koala bear, pulling herself further into Lando’s chest. She is starting to like the microphone just as much as Lando, so she pulls her face right onto it before she says her very first word - “dada”.
At first Lando thinks he’s hallucinating - there’s so many people around and there’s so much noise that he can barely hear himself think. But then Piper says it again and he can’t help but start to cry.
“She -, she- called me dada, oh my god I can’t believe it,” Lando’s in pure disbelief as he stares in awe at his little girl and looks back at you watching in the crowd. For a minute he forgets that there’s a full corral of people watching him until he hears a collective “awww” from the crowd.  “Sorry it’s just -, wow, she’s never done that before.” he says sincerely as he wipes the tears from his cheeks.
It’s now Piper’s turn to cry as she gets overwhelmed with all the eyes that are staring at her, pushing the microphone away from her as she buries her head into Lando’s shoulder. She is just a little kid, after all. Lando wraps up the interview as fast as he can, apologizing as he whisks Piper away to try and lift her spirits. 
Luckily it’s time to head into the cooldown room, which proves to be the perfect place for Piper to calm down from her outburst. The antics continue there as Lando bounces Piper on her lap, pointing to the TV screen to show her all the highlights. 
“Look at daddy about to overtake uncle Charles! And there’s uncle Alex, and uncle George...” Lando continues to retell the story of the last two hours as the other two podium sitters, Max and Oscar, chime in intermittently. Sometimes Piper’s gaze falls to Lando’s new hat instead of the screen, but he’s happy to have her in the room with him to share this moment. 
You have to really bargain with Lando to get him to hand Piper back to you so he can head to the podium by himself - it’s only at the rational explanation of not wanting your baby covered in champagne that he finally gives in to reason. Piper loves seeing the celebrations on the podium, adding in some cheers of her own when she sees her dad jumping up and down with joy on the podium. The little girl is addicted to the shine of the Bahrain trophy in the sun and you and Lando both later joke that she likes the piece of metal better than the both of you combined. 
It’s no surprise that Piper falls asleep on the car ride home - you do the same next to her as the jet lag catches up to you both. Piper still keeps one hand firmly on the trophy, having barely let it out of her sight since Lando brought it to her. Lando can’t help but feel so lucky as he looks through the rearview mirror at the both of you. 
It never gets any easier - leaving. The next weekend Lando heads to the United States and Piper cries the whole day once she notices that he’s packing a suitcase. You’re honest with Lando when you tell him that you’ll see him once he gets back, there’s no way you and Piper would be able to handle all the time changes and long haul flights that would come with going to every race.
You still watch every race though, throwing sleep training to the wind as Piper often stays up at all odd hours to watch with you. There are so many moments where you wish that you could be there with Lando, especially with the season he’s having. As the journalists would say, Lando’s “dad powers” have brought him his best ever start to a Formula 1 season, as he has yet to finish outside the top 3 so far. 
“What do you think is going to happen when I don’t come home from a trip with one of those?” Lando jokes as he sees your daughter absolutely enamored with the newest addition to her trophy collection. It’s the Australian GP trophy, which proves to be the perfect vessel for Piper to put her cereal pieces into. The little girl has taken to yelling as her new favorite hobby, and she shows it off every time she squeals with joy when Lando walks through the door after a race.
“I don’t want to find out, so you’ll just have to keep getting podiums, Lan” you joke back as you lean your head onto his shoulder. 
----
author's note: oh man, this has been sitting in my drafts FOREVER as i tried to perfect it but i really wanted to share it with you all. Thanks for all the love - asks are open if you want to say hello or make a request! Until next time! - Em 🤍
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ink-perfect · 2 months ago
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obsessed bf!gojo x gn!reader ⋆. based on: 22 - lil candy paint, bhad bhabie
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gojo had a bad habit.
a bad habit of blowing up your phone.
it wasn’t the 'three texts in a row' kind of blowing up, either.
oh no, gojo satoru didn’t do small-scale chaos.
it was an art form for him. the type of masterpiece that made your phone buzz off your nightstand at 3 a.m. with thirty consecutive messages that alternated between blurry selfies, close-ups of his sunglasses, and texts like:
“hey👋 (with the intention of getting midnight sushi)”
“do u think panda would let me dye him pink? 🤔”
“pick up plzzz i jsut saw the funniest video on instagram but i accidnetally exited tje app it and cant find it anymore so i'm jsut going to explain it to you in excruciatign detail”
and tonight was no different—except this time, it came after your first real argument.
you couldn’t even remember what had set it off anymore, but it had ended with you storming off and gojo… well, doing whatever gojo does when someone’s mad at him (eating mochi and sulking).
soon enough, after an hour or so of no contact, the first barrage had begun: thirty consecutive texts ranging from the initial
“i’m sorry 🥺👉👈”
to a dramatic
“why do you hate me? 😭💔 (don't answer that.)”
you’d ignored all of them, determined to let him stew.
but then the calls begun.
ring after ring, voicemail after voicemail, starting out with intense professions of love that slowly faded into desperate pleas for you to call him back, text him back, to respond just once.
and when those went unanswered too, he escalated.
your phone buzzed on your nightstand, flashing yet another text. this time, it came with a photo—gojo lying facedown on what appeared to be megumi’s couch, his hand clutching an empty box of tissues. the caption read:
“i’ve been crying for 84 years 😢 come back pls”
you rolled your eyes, but found the corner of your mouth twitching up despite yourself. he was impossible.
another buzz. this one said,
“fine if ur not gonna answer just know ur the light of my life and i’ll literally wither away like an unwatered houseplant if u don’t forgive me soon 😭 also ur socks are still in my room do u want me to wash them or nah”
the buzz after that said,
“actually nah i'm not bothered to wash them"
and then another buzz.
"also u look hotter when ur mad 🥰”
the audacity of this man.
you let your impulses get the better of you and texted back a stern "leave. me. alone."
and not even a second later, your phone screen lit up with gojo's face for the umpteenth time.
you groaned, snatching it up and finally swiping to answer to put an end to all of this.
“gojo, what part of ‘leave me alone’ don’t you understand?!”
“oh my god,” he gasped, his voice overflowing with fake relief. “you’re alive!”
“i—”
“you weren’t answering, so i thought maybe you’d been kidnapped! or fallen down a well! or—”
“i ignored you,” you interrupted sharply. “on purpose.”
“no yeah, i got that,” he said breezily, completely unfazed. “but we're talking now! the devil sure does work hard, but gojo works harderrrrr."
"gojo—"
"so, how much did ya miss me?”
"gojo."
"also did you see my text about the socks?”
"gojo!"
“aaaaand i’m outside your window by the way.”
“you’re what?”
“outside!” he chirped back like it was the most normal thing in the world.
sure enough, when you yanked open your curtains, there he was—gojo satoru, standing on your lawn in a hoodie two sizes too big, clutching a mismatched bouquet of convenience store snacks and flowers that you could just tell he had made himself.
“ta-da~!” he grinned into the phone as you watched him hold up the haul like it was an olympic medal. “i come bearing gifts!”
you gawked at him. “are you serious?”
“deadly,” he said, his smile widening so much you could even see it from your vantage point. “i brought your favourite snacks, and also, i stole these flowers from my neighbour’s garden. don’t tell anyone.”
“oh my god.” you smacked your forehead, torn between laughing and drawing your curtains shut. “it’s three in the morning.”
“yeah, well, you didn’t answer my texts,” he said, pouting dramatically. “do you have any idea how sad that made me? i’m so sad, baby, like, devastated. i swear i saw my life flash before my eyes.”
you folded your arms, mock unimpressed. “what’s sad is that you think this is going to work.”
“it’s already working,” he shot back smugly. “you’re talking to me, aren’t you?”
you hated that he was right. you hated even more that your annoyance was quickly being replaced by amusement. he was lucky he was cute.
“toru, just go home,” you sighed, though your voice lacked its earlier venom.
“not until you forgive me,” he declared, dropping to one knee with such theatrics you were surprised broadway hadn't whisked him away already. “or at least let me in so i can grovel properly.”
“you’re unbelievable.”
“yeah. unbelievably in love with you.”
you threw a pillow at the window, even though it wouldn’t reach him, giving yourself a minute to think.
okay, more like a few seconds.
to be fair, you were sure he had learnt his lesson. and, well...you were craving ramen, which happened to be placed front and centre in his haphazard bouquet.
“fine!" you whisper-yelled into the phone, a smile already creeping its way onto your face despite your best efforts to stay mad. "but if you wake up my neighbours, i swear i'm locking you out.”
his grin practically lit up the yard. “deal!”
and just like that, you were stomping down the stairs, blanket in hand, ready to let in the most exasperating, ridiculous, adorable man you’d ever met.
because, really, how could you stay mad at him?
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masterlist
© ink-perfect; est. 2024.
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verstappen-cult · 1 year ago
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gonna take up on the request opening bc i love these lil blurbs you do with your moodboards! maybe "how they defend you online" esp charles and lando but if you feel like adding others its up to you !!
THE BOYS DEFENDING YOU FROM ONLINE HATE | F1 GRID
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★ — LANDO NORRIS (4)
lando was streaming when you came home one day. once he heard the front door being closed and then your footsteps, he excused himself with his friends and viewers and went to greet you. when he came back, there were several texts from his friends letting him know of some not-so-friendly comments about you. suddenly, lando had something else to do and ended the whole thing. he did not tell you anything, lando simply waited until his next stream for what he wanted to do. it was very simple and definitely something lando would do; and staring right into the camera lando let the world know that if they don’t support his relationship, then he just doesn’t want their support at all. from then on, lando just blocked everyone who didn’t have anything good to say. you’re the most important person in his life, how can anyone hate you? and so, lando made a promise to himself: show the world the amazing girl you are.
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★ — CHARLES LECLERC (16)
even way before you started dating charles, receiving hateful comments and messages was a common occurrence. of course your boyfriend knew about it, everyone could see what was happening just by choosing a random picture on your instagram and reading the replies. it was sad, awful. but you didn’t want charles to do anything, you stopped him a lot of times because you didn’t want to bring too much attention into the whole thing. charles loves you and that is all that matters to you. it was, well, okay… until things became a little to real, a little too much, and charles couldn’t sit back and do nothing. so with a little bit of help from his team, he managed to write a very good and long statement about the whole thing. there were mixed opinions but things quiet down a little. and you weren’t happy at first, but something as simple as seeing your comment section hate-free made you forgive him sooner.
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★ — OSCAR PIASTRI (81)
oscar is a man of very few words and never engages in online drama or gossip. if and when he’s online, oscar just wants to see cute and funny videos. he’s a formula one driver and people should only be interested in that part of his life, but he knows that will never be the case. however, he’s still surprised to see various comments around twitter about you. they are not about how beautiful or intelligent you are or how happy you seem to make oscar with your pretty smile and sense of humor – not that they would know that. not that they deserve to know that, either. some part of him wants to reply to those people who definitely don’t know you, he’s angry, disgusted. and the rational part of him tells him to simply don’t say anything because they don’t deserve it. so, oscar just clicks to make a new tweet and begins with a simple phrase “you don’t know anything about me or my life…” and so on. maybe he sounded a little harsh, maybe things will get worse; he couldn’t care less, as long as you’re not mad with him, he can live with being the center of the drama. oscar will never let anyone disrespect you.
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★ — MAX VERSTAPPEN (33/1)
max doesn’t care what people think and have to say about him, that ship has sailed a long time ago. but he can’t ignore when people say mean things about you, he just can’t, so, he doesn’t. max replies to every single tweet and comment on both his and your instagram that he sees, he goes directly to the point and if he’s mean then, who cares? maybe it’s a little bit childish but he doesn’t care, max will not allow anyone to talk shit about his girl. and if he needs to make a video or do an interview or whatever he needs to do to make people understand that you are part of his life and forever will be, then he will be more than happy to do them. max is almost never online, so when all of this happens he makes sure to make time to be online, to post a picture of you on his instagram story, to post a photo of your vacation together on his feed, to say how much he loves you via twitter, to mention you when he has the chance during an interview. he loves making you blush and seeing you trying to hide your smile when you see all those things. max also loves pissing people off.
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★ — ALEX ALBON (23)
alex tries to be friendly. when he sees someone say something not good about his girlfriend, he doesn’t hesitate to prove them wrong and defend you. he knows you’re more than capable of doing it and has seen you doing it before; he loves it. but there’s this something inside of him trying to break free and just let everyone know the funny, pretty, amazing, kind girl he’s lucky to call his girlfriend. so, alex lets it free and goes liking, retweeting and replying to every single comment about you and how shiny and nice your hair is, how you seem to make alex so happy and how he’s always smiling around you (he makes sure to let them know why is that), how lucky alex is to have you by his side, and so on and on and on until there’s nothing more for him, until he can’t think about the mean things people said, until you are laughing next to him and calling him obsessed and kissing him like your life depends on it.
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★ — DANIEL RICCIARDO (3)
daniel chooses a catchy song and changes some of the lyrics, then sets his phone down and sits with a big smile and his guitar. when the video starts, he simply says “this is dedicated to all of the assholes thinking that is okay to hate on someone’s girlfriend just because.” and then he starts singing. there are a lot of bad words and cursing and long pauses looking directly into the camera without losing that big and pretty smile he has. daniel then uploads the video to all his platforms with a little paragraph about why bullying is bad and why you should mind your own business because he’s not that interesting anyway and it won’t make him break up with you because some trolls are practically begging him to. he ends up getting in trouble for not consulting with his team before doing what he did, something that has him going viral, so viral that people outside of formula one and people who don’t even who he is talk about it. exactly what he wanted.
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★ — MICK SCHUMACHER (47)
the moment mick has to hold you in his arms as you cry because you’d read something mean about you, it’s the exact moment he decides to do something about it. he doesn’t want to cause drama or make things worse, so, it takes him a little while and some long calls with his sister to know what to do. mick puts the poetry classes you two take a few months ago to good use and writes the most beautiful and romantic poem you and everyone would ever read. it is about you, about his love for you, about what you mean to him and everything he likes about you. he posts a little phrase to his instagram stories and sets a time and day for when it will be posted it. when the day cames and you get to read it, you end up crying again but for a whole different reason. it’s not that you didn’t know mick loved you but it’s the gesture, the time he spent doing it, the fact that he wanted to do it and wanted the whole world to read his love letter to you, something that will forever be there.
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© VERSTAPPEN-CULT ⎯ do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.
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ma1dita · 4 months ago
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can i get one ticket for here for the boos!! starring luke castellan with a pretzel! and maybe a lil spice on that pretzel :O also, i love your fics so much i always re-read them because of how good they are <333
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devil inside
[STARRING: LUKE CASTELLAN x reader ; “Don’t. Move.”]  wc: 1k  warnings: written with aphrodite reader in mind, but not officially stated; anon asked for lil spice so this came out veeeerrryyy suggestive? MDNI for non-descriptive fondling/fingering. yandere!luke. i say the word cum once—do what y’all will with that. implied minor character death, mentions of blood, alcohol, manipulation; title from inxs song, i’m tryna keep the titles spooky hehe. oh and i hit 2k followers while writing this last night! thank you thank youuu
monster mash-terlist
꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷
Luke Castellan has always been your protector and best friend. 
A two-in-one deal that you couldn’t help but thank the gods for every time you throw your offerings into the hearth at mealtimes. He always has your best interest in mind, is always devoted to taking care of you, and puts you first over anyone—so who else would you depend on to walk you home from a beach party?
Bad things happen around here at Camp Half-Blood, especially after dark, if we’re being honest. It would only be sufficient to have camp’s best hero be your escort back to your cabin. You’re giggling like a fool as Luke half-carries you through the dirt pathway toward home, purple slippers tucked in his back pocket and his thumb grazing the sliver of skin that peeks out above your daisy dukes. 
It would be wrong of him to leave you like this. Truly, what type of best friend would he be if he did? He knows you have admirers—you’re beautiful, for one. And it’s in your nature to be desired by all, though he supposes even without your blood being mixed with ichor that everyone would still look at you the way they do. And it angers him more than it should, a slow bubbling in his stomach that boils through to the surface whenever anyone leers at you or ogles your form as something they hope to have, or worse—conquer. Vincent from Cabin 4 was bold enough to try, growing flowers at will and weaving them into your hair, touching you and decorating you—making it known to the others that he got close enough to something sacred. By the time Luke got to the party tonight, the son of Demeter had a smile that would make anyone think he’d won the lotto.
Well, Vincent won’t make that mistake again. Luke made sure of it.
Tonight alone was evidence enough that no one takes what belongs to him. But Luke has more pressing problems at hand as he leads you further away from the crowd, like how you keep pressing your soft hands into the growing bulge of his cargo shorts, a sly grin illuminating your face and a simple, “Oopsie!” each time you do it. The both of you know what you’re blatantly hinting at after the third pass, and he’d be an idiot to ignore the way your arms wrap around his neck, knees buckling as you beg him to divert your journey towards the lake—whichever way that may be; you’re drunk off cheap vodka and he’s drunk off the smell of sweat and salt on your skin.
You feel like you’re flying, squealing like Luke’s tickling you as he carries you in his arms. There’s something in him that loves the way you pretend to resist, like how prey fall limp in a predator’s hold just in case they might lose interest—but how could he? You’re mouthing at his collarbone, tongue tracing out the letters of your name and your body pliant under his grasp. His skin is impermanently marked where no one can see, yet he’s yours either way, especially when you tease him like this, cooing,  “Luke, come onnnn….”
“Shhh…silly girl, they’ll hear you.”
The boy is grinning and has his hands wrapped under your armpits; in your drunken haze, you think it might be the wind or his long fingers caressing the underwire of your bra as he sets you down against him, back to his chest and legs dipping in the warm waters of Canoe Lake. You lean into him nonetheless, pulling your best friend in with a cute pout until he’s putty in your hands. He’d do anything for you. And right now, you’re hyperaware of that.
“Stop…don’t move,” he breathes, eyes fluttering as you wiggle against his lap and wrap his arms tighter around you, engulfing your frame from any stragglers that might be heading back from the bonfire. But Luke made sure you’d be alone tonight, your cheek against his as you both observe how the moon reflects the water. Your face is warm against his and he feels the imprint of your smile taking form by how it feels against his jaw, “M’just playing Lu. You know that, right?”
Clenching his jaw he smiles stiffly at you, and he silently thanks the gods you’re too drunk to notice his disappointment. He knows you love this—reveling in any attention you give him, drunk kisses in the moonlight and wandering hands doing very unfriendly things that he wishes you’d actually want to talk to him about in the morning. But when you’re not with him, your attention is elsewhere—preening over being treated like the ultimate prize. He was just easy access for you. And you still won’t think it means anything.
So as a typical son of Hermes, he takes matters into his own hands, literally taking you, even if you’re not his. It’s all the same to him, really, and you’re the one pushing his palms into the cotton cups of your bra. You’re using him because he’s there, and whatever this is will have to do for now.
“Gotta stay quiet f’me…stay still, okay?”
Luke unzips your shorts, tracing slow circles into your sodden underwear as you bite down on your bottom lip and look at him all needy. It almost looks like desire, but he wants you to mean it. He needs to make sure you’re devoted to him too—not just when you spread your legs and moan his name into the quiet of the night.
Being desired might be your domain, but deception is his. By morning, they’ll find Vincent's body floating in the very lake that your legs are writhing in. While you’re busy with the feeling of his fingers delving in and out of your warmth, he plans on how to get you to cum hard enough so that your eyes stay closed and ignore the smaller details, like the smell of blood on the rocks, and the Demeter boy’s flowers he’s been plucking out of your hair since you started your rendezvous—drifting back towards the still-warm body of their owner.
You’ll see how much you mean to him. He’s made sure of it.
꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷
ma1dita's monster mash is open for requests until 10/12 :)
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sturnmeovr · 2 months ago
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Scavenger Hunts & Cinnamon Rolls - Chris Sturniolo
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Babydaddy Chris - Positive - Mama - Changed Woman Pairings - Babydaddy!Chris x Fem!Reader Summary - You and Chris put a last minute scavenger hunt together for the boys as a way to reveal your pregnancy. Warnings - Strong language, pregnancy announcement, lil fluffy, Word Count - 2419 Authors Note - Looking for a new label for the reader!! 🤔 give me suggestions! At first I had Changed Woman and Scavenger Hunts & Cinnamon Rolls as once big ass post but I broke them up lol. I hope everyone like it! I had a lot of fun putting the little notes together. Masterlist Current Series - City of Love Check out my dividers!
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“They’re pulling up,” Chris beams from the living room, rushing to the kitchen island where you were sitting. He had been running around like a jittery school kid all day. Finally deciding it was time to tell Nick and Matt, you two pulled together a last-minute scavenger hunt in hopes it’d make the news a little less intense. Chris had no clue how they’d react, telling them they’re going to uncles for the first time was going to be shocking news, but he knew it had to be done. Both of you were tired of making up excuses when Matt would complain about you in the bathroom almost all day, every day. Or when Nick asked why you were wearing Chris's wardrobe and taking a hiatus on drinking.
Everything was prepared. All the envelopes were placed in their designated spots around the house, sealed with a piece of scotch tape, and marked with either your neat handwriting or your boyfriends sloppy handwriting, each one leading to the next. Chris sent his brothers on a few errands after breakfast which made sense because they had a few errands of their own. The three being so close, they took notice of Chris moping around the house, attempting to get it out of him but he suppressed his true feelings every time, refusing to confess the secret he had been holding in the last few weeks. Needless to say, when Chris asked them to pick up a few things for him, they didn’t object. He made sure to give them a long list, keeping them out for a few hours so the two of you could get everything ready. Chris taped the first envelope on the front door just minutes before they arrived, your neat handwriting scribbled across it - “let the games begin. The first clue is where you store your shoes. Good luck twin!” 
A mixture of anticipation and nervousness boiled deep down in your gut. At least that's what you thought it was since the feeling was quite different from your constant state of nausea you had been in the last few weeks. You hear the sound of the front door opening and slamming shut, “is this for a video?” Nick asks, poking his head around the corner, “I need to change first if it is.”
“No. No video,” Chris stutters, breaking eye contact to look at you. His face said he was second guessing it all, so you put on your best reassuring smile and nodded him on, trying to give him as much encouragement as you could without physically saying it. Matt takes notice pretty quickly, “what’s wrong with you, kid? You look sick,” his voice laced with concern and his eyebrows scrunched together. Chris swallows the lump in his throat, shaking his head, “got a big surprise for you guys. C’mon, find the next clue,” he eggs them on while wrapping an arm around you, desperately trying to wipe the ghost-like expression off of his face. 
You and Chris walk into the living room, watching as his brothers absolutely destroy the organized shoe rack. It was nearly impossible to find the next note, you had stuffed it in a pair of Nick's shoes that he barely ever wore. Matt jumps in excitement as he pulls the crunched up sticky note out of a pair of old, dusty sneakers. You laugh as he thrusts it in the air and shouts, “got it!” 
He brings the note back down to eye level, clearing his throat, “‘now that you found the second clue, go to the fridge and crack open a Mountain Dew,’” he reads off the words you pieced together. You weren’t much of a rhymer, Chris told you what to say on most of them because he knew it would’ve taken you all night. The scavenger hunt being a spontaneous whim of his, you didn’t argue when he sprung the idea on you, you were just happy he was ready to tell them. “Who drinks Mountain Dew?” Nick snorts, knowing it was only in the fridge for company that came over. 
“It rhymed,” you retorted back to him, shrugging your shoulders, “and we have Mountain Dew in the fridge.” Nick and Matt were too excited over the silly scavenger hunt, and they were really letting their competitive sides show. They resembled little kids running around the playground at recess as they raced each other to the fridge, earning laughs from you and Chris as they pushed one another out of the way. Nick gets there first, swinging the fridge door open, “my hand is literally on the door!” You let out a laugh as he argues with Matt, making him pout and cross his arms over his chest, “it’s okay, buddy. You’ll get the next one,” Chris tells him in a playful tone before rubbing a hand down his back. Matt quickly shrugs it off as Nick begins to read the third clue aloud, “clue three will keep you on your toes, check where Matt keeps his clothes.” 
Before you or Chris can say anything, Matt turns on his heels and foots it to his bedroom, “this one's mine!” You erupt in laughter, Chris following quickly behind as you watch Nick chase after Matt. It was funny how competitive they were, not even knowing the prize would be finding out they were becoming uncles. Just as you’re about to walk up the steps you hear Matt yell at Nick, “back door! It says ‘wanting more? Check by the back door,’ hurry up!”
Before you have the chance to get out of the way, Nick is barrelling towards you, jumping down the last few steps to get a head start. Chris snakes a hand around your waist, swiftly yanking you out of his way, “watch the fuck out! It’s not that serious!” he calls after his brother who dismisses his words by waving a hand over his shoulder. Chris looks at you, “you okay?” You force a smile, nodding to him, “I’m fine. Let them be excited.” 
Matt stomps down the stairs, calling out to Nick, “did you get it?!” Nick shouts from the back of the house, “‘no bitchin’, take that ass to the kitchen!”
Matt picks up his pace, quickly making his way to the kitchen. You and Chris follow behind him silently, refusing to give out any hints. The boys had one more clue until they revealed the big secret. So many thoughts run through your head as Matt inspects the kitchen - what were their reactions going to be? Were they going to hate you? - you felt like you were telling Chris all over again, like you were telling your overprotective older brothers, and that felt even worse. Matt puts his feet in action, moving across the kitchen in long strides. You watch as he picks up the white envelope you had taped to the cookie jar. Before he tears into it, you open your mouth to stop him, “read that last one together, Matt.” 
He looks up at you, nodding as he clenches the note to his chest as if he didn’t trust himself. A few moments later, Nick appears around the corner, giving Matt all the initiative he needed to tear open the envelope. He holds it out, “‘hopefully this isn’t too heartbreaking, check the oven to see what’s baking,’” he reads loud enough for the room to hear. His face crunching in confusion, “heartbreaking?” 
You had a feeling Nick could care less about what the notes said, it was obvious his competitive side had taken over. He rushes to the oven and swings it open, revealing a leftover cinnamon roll from breakfast. Chris put it in there hours ago after he realized buns were the only thing you didn’t have. You watch as Nick doubles over to pick the rock hard cinnamon roll up, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, “a cinnamon roll? Why would a cinnamon roll be heartbreaking?” He looks between you and Chris, “they were pretty good at breakfast, probably stale now.” 
“Well,” Chris chokes out in a nervous manner, “we didn’t have any buns.” You let your eyes bounce around the room - Chris scratching the back of his neck like the nervous mess he truly was. Matt rereads the last note over and over again, trying to put two and two together while Nick was looking at the stale dessert dumbfounded. As much as you wanted to scream out your confession, you decided to let Chris do all the talking. Besides, telling his family was something you wanted to leave to him, after all it was his family. Telling your own family was something you were dreading.  
“What the fuck?!” Matt spits out, making you and Chris look at him. The color flushes out of his face like he’s the one who just found out he was about to be a father. Nick was still staring at the cinnamon roll, trying to figure out what the hell was going on, “I don’t get it.” 
“Y/n’s pregnant, dumbfuck!” he chews out. You couldn’t tell if he was pissed or just taken back, and by the look on Chris’s face, he wasn’t sure either. Nick drops the roll, letting it bounce off the tiled floor before he slaps a hand over his mouth, “what?!” 
A strong silence casts upon the kitchen. The familiar feeling of anticipation is no longer in your gut as the four of you eyeball each other, struck for words. You didn’t know what to say or do, but the need to break the tension was weighing down on you like a thousand bricks placed on your back. Deciding to break the awkward silence, you force a toothless smile, letting your small voice croak out, “surprise!”
“You’re fucking joking! Where’s the cameras?” Nick pushes out a shocked laugh, looking around the room to see if he could spot any hidden cameras. Chris clears his throat, “we’re not joking,” running a hand through his hair. His serious demeanor made his brothers come to a realization; this silly scavenger hunt wasn’t a prank, and you were for sure pregnant. He was the most unserious out of the three, his goofy personality is what attracted you to him the most. He was a major goofball and if you were being truthful, this did seem like a prank he’d put together for the hell of it. Except, it wasn’t a prank at all - it was the real deal. 
You let your worries get the best of you. Feeling hot tears brim the waterline of your eyes, you quickly blink them away before looking down at your hidden bump. Chris’s hoodies did a fantastic job at hiding your baby bump these last couple weeks. You panicked when you started showing, even though your bump was barely noticeable, you didn’t want anyone to catch on before your announcement. The only indication you were pregnant was the constant puking in the hall bathroom Matt and Chris shared and you wanted to keep it that way until you were ready to confess. All eyes were on you as you smooth a hand over your bump, making the hoodie hug at your waist, showing your small. You could easily say you were bloated and get away with it. Nick and Matt gasp in harmony as you lift the hoodie up to expose your growing bump. It wasn’t much, but it was still proof of your baby's existence, proof that your baby was growing. Nick peels his hand from his mouth to speak, “you’re already showing?!” He makes his way to your belly, holding out a hand like he’s asking if he can touch. You nod him on, “yup, it’s real,” he says out loud, making you snort. Nick was really trying to convince himself this was reality. The last few weeks, you felt the same, so you couldn’t blame him. 
“How far along are you? Why didn’t you guys tell us?!” Matt shoots out questions like a disappointed father. He wasn’t upset that you and Chris were expecting, he was upset that Chris would keep such a big secret from him when they told each other everything. Some things they didn’t even tell Nick or you. “We’re telling you now bud. She’ll be eleven weeks this friday,” Chris jokes until he realizes Matt’s hard expression isn’t budging, “I don’t know. I was scared, didn’t want you guys to be mad at me.” You can hear the sadness in his voice, almost like a kid who was apologizing to his parents for bad grades. “I’m not mad you’re having a baby. I’m upset ‘cause you didn't tell me sooner. We all could’ve been figuring this shit out together Chris,” he lectures him like the true big brother he is. Matt moves his feet to walk towards you, “how long have you known?” 
“We found out at 7 weeks,” you manage to get out before he places a hand on your belly without warning, “yea that’s real,” he confirms, shooting looks between his brothers and back down at you. “I want to know about the next one as soon as it happens,” he grumbles, keeping his hand on your stomach. Nick snorts, “please,” taking a hand off your belly so Matt could get better access, “you were probably in the next room as they conceived it.” 
“Don’t call my baby an ‘it’. He’s a boy,” Chris argues, a grinning spreading from ear to ear. His comment makes both Matt and Nick look at him. Already knowing what the next question would be, you decide to chime in, “we don’t know yet. He’s just been manifesting the whole time.”
"Hold on," Chris nearly shouts, rushing out of the kitchen, and quickly returning with two extra copies of your first ultrasound you had gotten a few weeks prior. The same bright smile stretched across his face as he hands over a copy to each of his brothers, "doesn't he look like a boy?"
"Chris, it looks like an alien," Nick snickers, earning a playfully gasp from Chris. Matt studies the black and white printed picture, "yup,” he pops, "looks just like you, Chris."
"Funny 'cause you look just like me," Chris shoots back quickly. He still felt the weight of the world on his shoulders, you were bringing a new life into existence in just a few short months. He wasn't ready for it at all, but he was glad his brothers were there to help him, and you, through it.
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🏷️ - @lvrsturniolo @ribread03 @unknvhx @m11rx @emely9274 @loveparqdise @sweetshuga @frickin-bats @katie-tibo @leila-marie4
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© All Rights Reserved to m00nl1ghts1vt. Please do not copy my work.
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kawamarii · 7 months ago
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GOJO AND FACESITTING PLEASE 🙏🙏
ⵌ — bring it over here .ᐟ
˖ ࣪ ٬ satoru gojo x reader
<16 & ageless blogs dni
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contents Ⳋ facesitting, dirty talk, gojo is so tantalizing, praise, sub!reader , dom!gojo, he’s a lil full of himself (but who wouldn’t be), premature ejaculation
a/n : back on my writing grind :3 thankx for requesting this liv, wanted to write for gojo for some time now !!! i love him RAHHH i need him so bad, not proof read cus im lazy
word count: 1.1k
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“don’t you jus’ love being mine?”
you and your boyfriend gojo were relaxing on your shared bed; propped up against the headboard and engaging in random conversation. the tv was buzzing in the background, the faint illumination of it being the only source of light. you deadpan at his comment. “huh?” you smirk slightly, looking over at him, “what d’you mean?”
“oh, y’know,” he starts, leaning his head against yours and squeezing you close against his side with a small ‘oomf’ at the sudden impact from you, “not everyone gets a taste of the strongest. it comes with some perks! i mean, wouldn’t you agree?” he nudges you, playfulness evident in his features.
you decide to endulge in his banter, and you turn so you’re able to look at him properly. “yeah? what ‘perks’ are you referring to?” you ask with air quotations, and a mischievous glint sparks in his blue irises. “for starters,” he maneuvers you so he can sit behind you, his hands sprawling on your stomach as he inhales your sweet scent, “protection, for one.”
“i know everyone’s always after me, but they’ll never dare to touch you. they know what will happen either way.” he says with a nonchalant shrug and you snicker. “i suppose you’re right about that,” you nudge, “what else?”
he smiles, moving his head down to nip at the skin of your neck. “well, there’s the matter of pleasure,” he emphasizes, and you tilt your head with a playful roll of your eyes to give him more access to your neck. you can’t deny it, though; there’s no doubt that he makes you feel the best you’ve ever had, both intimately and domestically.
“sounds appealing,” you joke, and nip the plush of your bottom lip at the feeling of his lips traveling along the sensitive area. he chuckles, and you can feel it rumble deep within his chest from behind you. he bites down on your shoulder playfully. “oh, but you haven’t even heard the best part yet,” he pulled you close so your back his flush against his and you feel him smirk against your skin.
“the best part of being mine is i love spoiling you.” you let out a small laugh; it’s true, he really did spoil you. you sigh, leaning your head against his cheek. “yeah, trust me i know. i think you spoil me a little too much.”
he moves his hands to rest on your waist and he squeezes. “too much? nah, no such thing of too much when it comes t’you, sweetheart.” he nuzzles his face into your neck. “i like takin’ care of you, y’deserve it.” you sigh, slumping against him with a soft smile. “you’re cute, but it only makes me want to repay you.”
he shakes his head, wrapping his arms around your middle as he firmly holds you. “there’s no need. seein’ you happy and taken care of is my repayment.” his voice is laced with genuine affection; you know he means it.
“but . . . if you insist on repaying me, i can think of somethin’ you can do for me.”
and that’s how you ended up hovering over his face hesitantly, your hands gripping onto the headboard as his hands rested on your thighs. you’re dripping; your essence dropping onto his lips which only makes him more impatient. “cmon, baby. sit that pretty lil’ pussy on me. gonna make you feel good, promise. you wanted to repay me, right? sit.”
you swallow thickly, looking down at him hesitantly. “but— what if i hurt you? like, what if you can’t breathe?” he laughs at your nervousness and pats your leg in reassurance. “trust me, sweet girl. you’re not gonna hurt me, ‘nd i’ll breathe. you can do it, cmon.”
you sigh, reluctantly sitting on his face. you don’t sit all the way; but that’s not enough. he pulls your thighs and makes you sit fully and he wastes no time digging in to his favorite meal — you.
his tongue dives deep into your slit, his nose rubbing against your clit with fervor. you let out a sharp moan at the sudden pleasure and your hands grip impossibly tight around the headboard. “oh— oh fuck, ‘toru,” you cry, one of your hands flying down to grip at his hair.
he groans as pries his eyes open to look up at you with half-lidded eyes, humming the occasional ‘mhm’ against your folds; the vibrations going straight to your core.
your lips are parted with each gasp and you look down at him with the flushed embarrassment on your face. you feel him smirk against you — dick.
“y’feelin’ good, baby? i am, y’taste so good, so sweet.” you whine and your fingers tangle in his white locs. “yeahh, grip my hair, baby. fuck back on my tongue, cmon.” he pats your ass encouragingly and your hips begin to rock against his lips.
he welcomes it, the lewd squelch of your juices only serves as a further reminder of how good you feel. you feel fucked dumb already — the slurping sounds the only thing keeping you grounded. he moans himself, his hips shifting slightly to make himself more comfortable with the twitching boner in his boxers.
you can feel your orgasm building up within you, your hips stuttering. he reaches his hands up to wrap around the underside of your thighs and rocks you for you, the stimulation being too much. “toru,” you whimper, “‘s too much, ‘m gonna cum.”
he smiles against you and flicks his tongue over your pearl. “yeah? i got you, baby. cum all over this tongue, ‘s gonna feel so good,” he encourages, and it works.
your orgasm hits you without warning, and you go quiet for a moment in a silent scream as you finally let out a loud moan, your legs shaking beside either side of his head as your back arches and you try to sit up from his mouth. he shakes his head, prolonging your release as long as he can, drinking every splash of essence that leaked out of you.
he finally releases his grip on your thighs and you hover over him with gasps and pants. “such a good girl,” he compliments, “felt good, huh? i told you. you were so sweet, angel.” he smiles up at you. you swing your leg back over him so now you’re laying on your back next to him as you caught your breath and he turns to wrap an arm around your waist. you notice that he’s a little breathless himself.
“did so good,” he kisses your temple, and you melt into him. you blink open your eyes. “what about you, toru?” you ask, and he smiles. “don’t worry about that,” he waves off, and you sit up to glance down at his boxers. you take note with wide eyes at the wet patch on it tinged with white. you look over at him, eyeing the lazy smirk on his lips.
“heh, told you it’d repay me.”
© marimisses on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.
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ramp-it-up · 1 month ago
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Peach, Part I
Summary: Steven Grant Rogers is Bucky Barnes' best friend and business parter in crime. He has decided to get out of the life with Bucky, not for love, but because it's the right thing to do. You are a struggling dance teacher in Atlanta. And what is the quickest way for a dancer to make money in the A? When Steve meets you at one of his businesses and lies to you about a myriad of things, It becomes a sticky situation, especially since the attraction you feel for one another is so sweet.
Word count: 3.5 K
Pairing: Bartender/ Art Dealer (Mob Boss) Steve Rogers x Reader (Peach)
A/N: Okay. I can explain. Yes, I got carried away with this one too, but have you met me? It's what I do. I feel like we're gonna get a little more angsty with these two, but the payoff might be good. Idk, I just hope that you like it!
This fic is connected to the Bucky Barnes Knock You Down AU, and comes a couple of months before the Bucky Barnes fic You've Got me Thinking. I'm so done for with Steve and Peach. The next part is coming by the end of the week! ☺️
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Slow burn, cursing, mutual pining, angst, financial difficulties, cute tiny dancers, familial feelings, feelings about besties being in love (third wheel?), Steve the businessman, shady people, Steve lying, Steve using an alias, a lil bit of voyuerism (involving dancing) exotic dance life; pole dancing, wild thoughts, flirting, hand holding. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.
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———
Late October
Steve Rogers was frustrated.
His best friend Bucky had recently fallen in love, and instantly Steve’s life became an urgent race to divest their Art business of illegal ties so that Bucky could begin his life with her.
Together with Sam and Natasha, Bucky and Steve ran an art import business in New York which was extremely lucrative.
Except that it wasn’t really.
“Just wait until I see you tonight, Frumoasă….”
Steve glanced over at his bestie, who was turned away and whispering into the phone with a giant grin on his face. Steve shook his head and looked out of the window of the car that Nico was driving uptown to a meeting. He rolled his eyes.
More phone sex with Bucky and his girl. Great.
“Behave. Or I will make you…”
Steve cleared his throat as he listened to the suggestive chatter and shifted in his seat. Bucky and his girl were burning hot.
All of the time.
It seemed impossible.
“I love you too, Frumoasă.”
Steve needed what Bucky had in his life. At first he thought he was jealous. His best friend had an extremely desirable woman who made him drop the player lifestyle the instant he saw her. It took Steve a minute, but he realized he wasn’t jealous of either Bucky or his girl; Steve was jealous of the feeling.
When Bucky ended the call, Steve tried to continue the conversation they were having.
“Everything good?”
Bucky smirked, a look on his face that Steve hadn’t seen before his best friend met the love of his life just weeks earlier. It was an amazing transformation.
“Everything is great.”
Then Bucky frowned.
“Except this timeline. We need to get clean, Steve. Faster. We’re going to have to travel a little more before the end of the year.”
The blond raked his hand over his face.
“Bucky, I get it. Believe me I do. But we’ve already tripled the rate of divestiture. Are we to quadruple it? Is it really worth the money we’ll lose?”
“I don’t think you get it at all, Steve. But you will one day. “
Bucky gave Steve a look that made him roll his eyes again.
“I’ll take the losses, Steve. You and Sam and Nat will get the agreed upon cut.”
Bucky gazed out of the window.
“Billionaires shouldn’t exist anyway.”
Steve sighed.
“We all agreed to speed up, and we all agreed to an equal split of the profits. And losses.”
The two men shared a knowing look. Steve assented.
“Okay, Buck. Let’s get Sam and Nat on the phone; I just want it all to be square. You know they want this just as much as you and I do.”
Bucky smiled at his friend, the oldest he had in the world.
—--
Early November
You smiled at little Amina, who was trying her best on her pliés. Although she was only four years old she had a determination like no other. Her little tongue was poked out and there was a scowl on her adorable little face.
You came over and smooth her brow and took her tiny chin in your hand.
“Relax, Mina. If you’re not having any fun, it’s not worth it. Don’t force it, sweetie.”
Amina smiled back at you and began to giggle, relaxing into the poses.
“See there! It’s better already!”
You widened your smile and spoke to the entire class of 12 little 4-6 year olds. They were adorable in their uniform black leotards and pink tights.
“Remember dancers, hard work and lots of fun, that’s our motto. And one, two, three….”
Amina’s mom, Michelle, came up to you after class.
“Here’s what I have Ms. YLN.”
She deposited half of what monthly tuition was into your hand and held it for a beat. Her eyes were watery but she had a brave smile on as she glanced over at Amina giggling with her classmates. Then, she lowered her voice.
“I’m afraid this will have to be her last class. I just can’t come up with the funds… She loves it so much… We’ll miss seeing you every week.”
Your heart shredded. You made a knee jerk decision.
“It doesn’t have to be her last class. I will send you the paperwork for the scholarship. I’ll see you both next week.”
You smiled and gave both her and Amina a hug as she skipped over to you.
“Thank you, Ms. YLN. So much!”
You smiled and nodded as they left the dance studio that you rented for your weekly classes. The tuition you collected barely allowed you to pay the rent, much less compensate you for your time and preparation.
But you were determined to help these little ones with their dreams. And to see your own to fruition.
—--
“You can’t keep letting these people put dance classes on layaway, Cousin.”
Heat bloomed in your chest. Your favorite cousin, who had everything she ever wanted, whenever she wanted, growing up was joking about layaway. Even now, she had an insanely hot, wealthy guy eating her up. Literally.
“Okay, you know what…”
“Calm down. I will finance little Amina Rickard’s monthly tuition before you cuss me out. You know I love you. And you knew sending me that picture of her was gonna work. Making my ovaries explode.”
You smiled, almost choked up.This was your cousin’s second scholarship student and your family’s 8th overall. You were really blessed, even though things hadn’t come easy for you.
“I think the guy who is trying to breed you all over the place is making your ovaries explode, but okay.”
“Y/N, YLN! I am a demure, respectable–”
“You’re a whore for that man and we both know it.”
“Girl, you ain’t lyingggg! Shit, he’s calling me now…”
“Go get that nut video.”
Your cousin laughed at you.
“I hate you.”
“Love you too, and thanks, Sistercuz.”
“Bye Sweetie. Have a good night.”
Easy for her to say.
—---
The jet was delayed in New York because of snow and Steve was late getting started. After he landed and was sat in Atlanta traffic, he was reminded that he wanted to be in and out of the city, preferably in two days, and on to Kansas City as soon as possible.
Atlanta could be a fun time, with many many beautiful women, but he was on demon time. He needed to get rid of the criminal enterprises in the company. Quickly.
The holdings in Atlanta consisted of a handful of exotic dancing establishments. And the strip clubs in Atlanta were known to be dens of considerable iniquity. He was sure it would be easy to make a decision to offload the five clubs in the area.
On the second day, Steve had quickly turned a profit on the first four clubs, borderline dives with mid-level girls. The drugs and prostitution levels were off the charts and there were plenty of shady characters who wanted a chance at those businesses.
He’d saved ‘the best for last,’ a supposedly upscale club called Regine in midtown.
It was supposed to be a classy place, so Steve decided to just drop in to check it out before making a decision. He arrived a little over an hour before opening, stepping into the kitchen from the back alley where he parked his rental car.
“Hey, yo! You the new bartender? I told you to be here at 2, not 2:45.”
The salutation came from a huge guy with a large belly and lots of teeth. He’d be scary to anyone else. This must be Sully. Steve recognized him from the file. He decided to play along, glad that he’d dressed down in a flannel and jeans.
“Yeah, well. Traffic.”
Steve thought it best to say as little as possible. That way he would get the most information.
“Shit, you don’t have to tell me. I have to drive here from Alpharetta every day. The 400 is hell every morning.”
“We need someone with some experience. Someone willing to be paid in cash tips, nothing on the books. You look like you’d prefer that.”
Steve stared Sully down, not debunking the myths the latter was making up in his mind. Sully kept talking.
“Also may need to do some security. We get into some… situations up in here.”
Sully took in Steve’s stature and unwavering stare.
“A man of few words I see, Looks like you’ll do. Can you start tonight?”
Steve couldn’t believe this joker, hiring someone off the street.
“Sure.”
This place was not looking like a keeper, Steve thought as he followed Sully for a tour. In daylight, it was passable; in the dark with the right lighting, he was sure it looked swank. Sully told him how to water down the liquor and where the firearms were kept. When his 30 minute orientation was over, Sully left Steve to set up the bar on his own.
“Cory just called in, but Mike will be in later. You should make a lot of tips, our girls are top notch.
Steve just nodded, his hands on his hips as he calculated how much Sully must be skimming off the liquor alone as the latter walked away. Sully came back to the bar and asked a pertinent question.
“Oh yeah. What's ya name?”
“Grant Stevens.”
A little white lie would never hurt anyone, especially if this situation got sticky.
“Aight. Nice to meet you Grant. Tips are not the only perks of this job, if you know what I mean.”
Steve shuddered as Sully lumbered away. He wanted no parts of perks.
—-
A couple of hours later, the girls started arriving, most of them greeting Steve with a polite hello, some skipping it with a grimace, some in their phones, and one, you, listening to music and vibing out. You were different than the weary women who’d passed by ahead of you.
Steve was struck at the serene look on your face as you entered the establishment, braids in a bun on top of your head, eyes closed and your mouth pursed as you hummed and bopped your head to the music, bag slung across your back.
Your skin was dewey, free of make up and those lips, well those lips were what made him do a double take. Your neck was graceful and the cropped hoodie you were wearing did not do a thing to hide your full curves, smooth skin, round tits, long legs, and all that ass. Steve’s palms began to itch.
Steve was convinced that the strip of stomach showing between your hoodie and your sweats was more alluring than any stripper outfit could be, because at the sight of it he broke out in a sweat. Your body was calling him to touch, but he didn’t even know who you were.
He was about to find out however.
Steve stepped to the edge of the bar, ready to give a greeting, but you just bopped on by, oblivious and making your way to the dressing room. It bruised his ego, but the sting was soothed by the sight of you walking away. He stood there for a full minute in shock, but then he shook his head and went behind the bar to drink some water.
“Get it together old man,” Steve grumbled to himself as he tried to cool down. He set about talking to the employees in the kitchen to get more intel on this establishment. The sooner he had enough info, the sooner he could put this one to bed and get away from distractions.
Like you.
—--
“Did you see the new bartender? Just put him on stage, I’ll climb him like the pole.”
"Dat azzz tho."
“Right? And did you see those eyes, those lips? Pretty fly for a…”
You frowned at the chatter around you. You really had to pay more attention to your surroundings. You didn’t notice any new bartender. But knowing these ladies’ taste in romantic partners, you’d bet he was overrated.
You sighed and put your earbuds back in; there was no time for nonsense. You had to warm up properly to protect your instrument: your body.
You looked down at your watch and saw that the doors would open in 45 minutes. You had 20 minutes to go and warm up and still have time to get changed. You sat down to trade your Jordans for your stilettos and make your way out to the pole.
—-
When Steve walked back to the bar from the kitchen, there you were on stage under the lights in a crop top and short shorts.
Again, you were oblivious to him.
Steve, on the other hand, was undone.
Your skin glowed everywhere,and he noticed that you didn’t seem to have augmented anatomy, not that there was anything wrong with that. He just knew that if he had a handful of that ass, it would be real. He stepped behind the bar to watch you, a convenient barrier between you and Steve’s stiffening cock.
As he watched, you moved slowly, the motion elegant and mesmerizing in the six-inch heels you were wearing which elongated your beautiful legs.
Lost in your own world under the lights, you looked ethereal, a goddess.
You approached the pole and held on with one hand, walking around and around it seductively, hopping a few times in the heels, making your ass shake with the impact. It was hypnotizing, watching your strong arms and legs, especially those legs, grip the pole as you worked your body around it.
Then, you let your hands slide down the pole, causing you to bend over and showcase your luscious ass and thighs. Steve imagined that they tasted delicious.
Next, you straightened up and walked around until the pole was nestled in between your asscheeks, widened your legs and undulated on it. Never in Steve’s life had he wanted to be an inanimate object until now.
When you turned around and body rolled on the pole was when Steve had to grip the bar. And when you slowly twirled down to the floor and went spread eagle, beautiful legs in the air, was when he felt like vaulting over the marble bar to get to you.
You rolled over onto your knees and started undulating, then started crawling toward the end of the stage closest to him.
Steve knew the exact moment you noticed him.
You froze, looking like a startled feline. Squinting, you moved your hand over your eyes so you could see beyond the lights, then pulled out your earbuds and got to your feet effortlessly.
—--
You thought you were alone with your music and your fantasy of dance that got you in the headspace to strip for strangers. You didn’t notice anyone out in the club until you were almost done with your warm up routine, when, as you looked up from the floor you saw a large figure behind the bar.
You froze, a moment of something like fear, but more like a thrill, passing through you.
As your eyes adjusted to the area beyond the lights, you saw a tall, muscular body and longish hair. This must be the new bartender. You got up and approached him, trying to analyze your feelings about the situation before you addressed the man.
As you got closer, your temperature seemed to rise. Must’ve been the workout.
His warm denim blue eyes were gorgeous and that dark blond hair and reddish beard were thick and lustrous. Although the beard was a bit wild and wooly, there was no hiding the pink, full lips under that straight, masculine nose.
His body was lithe, but muscular, and you sensed his power. You bet he could pick you up and hold you upside down as that beard scratched the inside of your thighs to lick your…
Wait. Where did that thought come from?
You were objectifying your new co-worker.
That would never, never do. You vowed to be professional.
—-
Steve straightened up as you came near. The look on your face was hard to read. Whatever it was you were feeling, Steve felt like an intruder.
Even though he had the deed to this building in his bag.
“Hi.”
It was all he could think of to say as you stood before him because his mind was empty. With you up close, the only thing he could do was stare. Your scent was like a drug and your eyes were…everything. He gazed into them, a myriad of colors that were holding him captive.
Then that mouth started moving.
“Hello. You the new barback?”
“What?”
Steve leaned closer, pretending he couldn’t hear you, just to get nearer. It wasn’t entirely game; he was quite distracted by you.
The side of your mouth curled up in a sardonic smile and a sudden, funny feeling spread throughout his stomach. He gave you a side grin in response to your side eye.
“Are… you… new… here?”
“Yes, I am working in the bar. I’m Steve…ns. Grant Stevens.”
You extended your hand to him.
“Nice to meet you Grant. I’m Peach.”
“Peach?”
The word gave Steve visions. He stared at your lips, thought of your ass, imagined your juices dripping down his chin.
“Yes,” You smirked. “Peach.”
Steve was speechless.
“It’s nice to meet you, Grant. Since you’re new here and probably haven’t gotten paid yet, I won’t charge you for the private dance.”
Steve’s mind was moving slowly. Like he was drugged.
“That’s a stage name, right?”
Peach. It had to be a stage name. Yet it suited you so perfectly. Suddenly he wanted a taste test.
Steve licked his lips and your eyes followed his movement as you proceeded to not answer him. He unconsciously started stroking the back of your hand with his thumb and gave you his full smile.
You grew even warmer, from the friction of course, and blinked at him as if you were facing sunlight as you pulled your hand from his.
“Forgive me. I’m sorry for eavesdropping? Spying? Watching you dance without you knowing? Don’t know what to call it. But beg your pardon.”
—--
“Don’t beg.”
‘Dont beg here,’ is what you wanted to say.
You don’t know why the vision of this man on his knees for you flashed in your mind. Maybe it was his velvet baritone, or maybe it was the feel of his rough hand on yours that got you all bothered, as if his smile hadn’t already made you wet.
He was tall, a good head taller than you, even in your heels, and a looming presence. In a good way. You wanted to be enveloped by him. But you didn’t even know him.
You had to get it together, but the scent of his cologne was making your mouth water to taste him. You were weak for this man.
You hated this feeling, didn’t have time for it, yet you weren’t ready to end the conversation just yet.
“I mean, I felt some kinda way when I first saw you here, but hell, I don’t own this place. And neither do you.”
For some reason, Grant’s face did a thing. A weird frowny sad thing, but you barrelled ahead.
“You’re a worker, just like me, and you were just getting your work station ready, just like me. Solidarity, man.”
“Yeah. Solidarity.”
Grant cleared his throat.
“Great moves up there.”
—---
You grinned, blinding him this time. Steve’s discomfort that his ‘little white lie’ was spreading to you dissipated when you smiled at him.
He just knew that your smile could heal any ailment, if he were allowed regular doses of it for the rest of his life.
“Thanks, friend. They make me a lot of money three nights a week.”
You pushed off the bar and started walking back to the locker room as Steve chuckled at your immediate friend zoning.
“And if you like that, stick around for the show.”
You threw a look over your shoulder that made him want to follow you anywhere.
As he watched you leave again, Steve Rogers knew that he needed a little more time to figure this place out.
—----
Steve was concluding that Regine wasn’t the worst, but nothing extraordinary. The women in makeup and costume looked good and the tips were flowing; he could see how this was a money maker.
He had his suspicions about Sully, but he still had little evidence about the quality of the place. He needed to see all of the dancers.
Steve wanted to see you dance. For research purposes.
He was busy at the bar all night, so much so that Sully had to come by and made four money drops. This place made much more profit than was being reported, that much was clear as Steve’s eyes followed Sully back to his office with the cash.
He was about to follow him when you brushed by him, ensconced all in white.
“Excuse me. Gotta get to the stage, Comrade.”
Your wink distracted him from the fact that you were wearing a ten gallon cowboy hat and boots.
Wait.
Were those spurs?
Mesmerized, Steve leaned on the bar to watch your show.
The stage went dark while the guitars started. There were whistles and stomps from the floor, cries of Yesss! Peach! Go Peach! Ride me Cowgirl, and Pour some liquor on me honey tooooo! reverberated in the room.
These were grown men and women.
And by the time the first line of the song played, “This ain’t Texas…”, the crowd was in a frenzy and in the palm of your hand.
Steve suddenly understood the customer’s enthusiasm.
The way you moved on the stage, your props, the way your body captivated everyone in the place was astounding.
You were brilliant.
You were what made Regine extra ordinary.
—---
You were bone tired by the time 3 am rolled around and the club closed after two full sets. You’d made $700 dollars in tips, not bad for a Tuesday, considering that you didn’t do any private dances. You were yawning as you passed the bar and Steve stopped you to say goodnight.
“Hey Peach. You were fantastic tonight.”
He shook his head.
“It was the first time I’ve seen that prop used on a dance club stage…”
Steve’s eyes glazed over as he replayed the image of you spinning on the pole with the stick of the hobby horse between your legs.
You spared the handsome blond an appreciative glance and a tired laugh.
“Thanks, Grant. I try to be original. Hope you did well tonight.”
“I did pretty good.”
Steve smiled as he would if $500 dollars excited him.
“Hey, one of the customers at the bar told me to give you this. Said he was shy?”
You looked at him warily as you took the envelope. Inside was $1000.
“Holy Shit!”
You looked up and covered your mouth, your girlish piety endearing to Steve, who chuckled at you.
“There’s a stack in here.”
“Whoa! Cool.”
Steve tried to look as if he didn’t know there were exactly 10 hundred dollar bills that he’d put in there.
“Guy must really like you. Could it be a regular? A special friend? An ex perhaps?”
Steve was not being very subtle, but he didn’t have much time. You were smirking at him in that way again.
“My regulars are regular shmegular degular, and cannot afford to tip me one thousand dollars. Must be a high roller rolling through the A.”
You smiled, but decided you needed to be tough. You straightened and gave the most menacing glare you could manage.
Steve thought you were adorable.
“I don’t know who would have done this. I don’t have any special friends or exes in this city. I’m all work. NO play. In any way. Especially at work.”
You hoped your hard look worked. Grant was certainly watching your mouth as you spoke, so he must have caught what you meant, right? When his eyes flicked up to yours, your knees got weak so you decided you should go.
“‘Night, Grant.”
You turned and walked out of Regine, a certain warmth in your chest. Must the $1700 in your bag. Or the chicken wings. Nothing to do with the beautiful man you knew was watching until you got into your car.
Steve made sure that you drove off safely, and then followed you home as he thought about how efficiently you’d curved him.
Once you went into your apartment, Steve called Bucky and told him that he needed a little more time on this enterprise.
This one was a peach.
-----
Okay. I hope that you liked it! Let me know by reblogging please!
Part II
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