#shes from my fic teehee
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pillowenvelopchair · 5 months ago
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I got a bit crazy testing out new brushes ok
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oil pastel brush..... its actually so good.....
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mrmeepsmadmind · 1 month ago
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rewatching this over and over again.. mainly bcs tarn makes soundwave into a manlet but also bcs it's hilarious
#thunderhowl at the copilot doing Absoluteky nothing then being surprised when shadowstriker is unfamiliar with the terrain: :D#i get ure a theater kid but CAN U STOP BEING SO CRYPTIC#bumblebee moving to the wall like the only smart person#optimus just wants to find the source#had to include soundwave being the bitchiest person for no reason at the end of course 🩵 mi lady#somebody help tarn bro only has one arm 😭😭#hes not even using it against a wall or anything like hes just trying to keep his balance#everybody panicking while shadowstriker doesnt give a fuck#girlboss shit she does every day and no one cares it pisses me off yall need to appreciate my mean lesbian like yall appreciate her mean gay#bestie#thunderhowl :) bcs he wants soundwave to struggle probably. i mean at the cost of others maybe risking a concussion? sure#theyre both so petty but try to act too cool to be in their own lame ways. im obsessed with them#he was hoping soundwave was gonna land in his lap 💔#somehow from all the way back there LMFAO if his terrains can defy gravity so can his beloved annoyance ok. he believes#im a filthy multishipper so i need tarn and soundwave to have more fic & kiss too bcs it's literally tarn being like I Know What You Are#(a Bttm) to soundwave and soundwave having to screw his lips into a smile & be like teehee of course.. only to be like (u forgot the Brat*)#at the end like. why are they like that. tarn holding him by the waist with 1 arm being like i got u bbgirl meanwhile hes getting#60000 concussions and soundwave is trying So hard not too laugh.. TOO loudly. (tarn thinking hes so anime protag rn)#tf cyberverse#soundwave#tarn#thunderhowl#shadowstriker#bumblebee#optimus prime#maccadam#transformers#I CANT BELIEVE I HAD ENOUGH ROOM FOR THESE TAGS!
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shhroomer · 2 months ago
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You guys ever read the most beautiful, jaw dropping, feet kicking, leaves you with a feeling of yearning fic that it possesses you? yea that was me anyways here’s vampire Kyle and his annoying assigned bodyguard who’s also a witch
(ALSO IF YOU WANT TO READ SAID FANFIC ITS A KYLE X READER FIC CALLED ITS FALLING FOR THE IDEA BY FEDOSAURUSREX ON AO3 THAT INSPIRED ME TO WHIP THIS WHOLE AU UP)
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itsalwaysforyou · 10 months ago
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the black sky and all those lights
a silly little something i wrote for jalentines!!
When Mal opens the dormitory door, Jay is standing in the hallway in his workout gear, hair tied up in a bun. He’s already grinning in that way he does when he wins a fight. Mal rolls her eyes at him. Grabbing her bag, she says bye to Evie, and joins Jay in the corridor. 
She scowls as they walk, her workout clothes tight on her skin. Jay had insisted they’d do things properly, and not in their usual leather. 
The hallways are decorated for Valentine’s Day, making Auradon Prep even more gaudy and colourful as usual. Pink and red hearts plastered across the walls, boasting the abundance of love here in Auradon. Jay’s had a thousand notes in his locker. Mal’s had none. Every morning, she watches Jay approach his locker like he would a target on the Isle. Weight forward, shoulders squared; ready to fight if needs be. And the paper falls to the floor like blood, only sickly pastel. Scrawled glittery gel pen. Words confessing passionate love, or asking him on dates, or doodles of hearts. Jay smiles the whole time. Greets and winks at girls. Scrunches those notes up in a fist. 
“Everywhere looks disgusting,” Mal says as they approach the sports hall. Heart-shaped bunting crests the doors.
Jay holds the door open for her. “It’s fun.”
“You would think that.”
The sports hall is mercifully free of décor. They drop their bags in the corner and begin to warm up, another stupid practice Jay insists on. His top rides up as he side-stretches. Isle rule: never show skin, especially to the enemy. Except, Jay loved to parade around in those stupid sleeveless vests. She’s yelled at him plenty of times about it—Are you insane? You’re a walking target. He would just grin and say, they’ll have to catch me first.
Jay laughs as he grabs the practice swords from their stands. “Here.” 
He throws it, and Mal catches. The weight in her hand is familiar. Already, her pulse is thrumming faster, and maybe if she closes her eyes she’ll be back on the docks, with the wind ripping at her hair, and the salt stinging her nose, and half a dozen of Uma’s crew jeering over the clanging of swords. 
Jay chucks her a mask too, before attaching one to his own face. The mesh turns her vision slightly hazy.
“Ready?” Jay asks.
Mal’s watched fencing practise a few times, mostly as an excuse not to do homework and instead watch her boys wipe the floor with all those prissy Auradon princes. Coach Jenkins appointed Jay captain of the team a few months ago, a role he takes more seriously than she’s ever seen him take anything. 
“Rassembler! Salute! Lower the point. Masks down. En guarde!”
Mal lunges first, which Jay clearly anticipates, parrying her blow. He circles. Strikes. Mal blocks it. He’s quick. Reflexes honed to a sword’s point; learned by practise and theory. Mal lashes out again, just catching his free arm before he jerks away. She grins underneath her mask. Her breath comes quicker. Jay’s blade arcs down, hitting her chest. Mal swats his blade away. She hears him laugh. She growls. Strike. Parry. Strike. Block. Strike. Jay lands another hit. Their shoes squeak against the linoleum floor. 
“Come on, Mal,” Jay teases. 
Mal lunges like a cat on its prey. Jay’s blade grates against hers like steel against flint. Jay may be quick but Mal’s smaller, and she weaves her way through Jay’s blade until they both have the sword’s point angled at each other’s chests. 
They’re both panting. Jay lowers his sword first. Takes off his mask. 
“You came in clutch at the end,” he says. 
Mal huffs, wiggling the mask off her face and wiping her forehead with a sleeve. “You actually get training.”
“And now I’m training you!” 
His hair has loosened during the sparring, spilling out at the seams. He unties the bun; flips his hair down and shakes it out. In this late-afternoon light, his hair could be made of gold. Hair longer than Mal’s ever had. 
He pulls his hair back into its bun, deft fingers making quick work. When he straightens back up again, his face is slightly flushed from the match. 
And Mal looks at this boy she’s known most of her life; this face and these hands; a boy that has held her at the end of the world and the start of a new one. And she snatches back down her mask. 
“Again,” she says, lifting up her sword. 
She’s swinging before Jay’s even had the chance to pull his own mask back down. Her blade slices against his chest, and she hears the breath escape from his lungs. 
“Fuck!’
Jay’s blocking her hits in no time. Mal grits her teeth. A boy who’s inhabited every place she’s ever been. The shadow along the street; a fixed point on the rooftops. Those long, quick fingers that know their way around bandage; around open flesh; around her own hands. Like a comet to Earth. Like an eclipse. Totally consuming. 
And here, where the sun shines brighter than they could have ever dreamed, she is left blistering. Those girls that fawn over Jay, professing their love with the same ease that Mal can hold a dagger to a throat. Jay’s clicking tongue, and that low fry to his voice when he’s chatting someone up. Everything is always so easy to him. He can wrap anyone around his finger with a wink. 
His blade slams into her stomach. Mal pants, the budding pain in her side clearing her head. Jay’s standing above her like some heavenly deity. 
“Best of four?” he offers.
“Yeah, whatever.”
“C’mon. Let’s take a break.”
Jay drops his sword and grabs his water bottle from his bag. Mal joins him, still gripping her sword, gulping down her water like a man in a desert. 
“We should do this again soon,” Jay says. 
“Tomorrow?”
“It’s the Valentine’s Ball tomorrow.”
Mal snorts. “Yeah, and?”
“I was gonna go.”
His words are coming too slow; too considered. Like when he used to talk about his dad, or a particularly bad Barge Day. Rehearsed. A guard dog who’s smelled danger, prowling at the sidelines. 
Mal presents her blade. “En guarde!” she shouts, and Jay ducks her swing before scrambling over to his own sword. 
“Really, Mal? Another sneak attack?”
“I’m keeping you on your toes.”
They waltz around the sports hall, the blades clashing and slicing and singing.
“We all agreed we weren’t going to go to the Ball,” Mal says, jabbing at Jay.
“We never agreed anything.”
Jay lands a blow. They are at the dockyard, with its rotting wooden pier and dead fish stench. The screeching of metal; the shouting; Mal’s heart hammering like the tide. Blood, and life. The roar in her ears. A dragon’s call. Body moving without a thought, as quick as a lightning strike. Not having to look behind her because she knows Jay is there.
“Exactly!” she says. “Why would we want to go to some stuffy Auradon ball?” Jay tries to say something but she ignores him. “Why would we care about Valentine’s Day? It’s corny, and over-commercialised, and a stupid excuse to make everything about love.”
Jay has her backed up against a wall. With no time to mount his mask, his lips are slightly parted, and his hair is escaping from his bun again. He looks just like he did on the Isle; none of his perfect prince act that fools Auradon. His sword hovers above her throat. 
“Do you yield?” His voice is low.
Mal stares at him. Those eyes that have seen every part of her. All the blood; every smile; her pale skin in the dark Isle nights. The boy that has beheld her every action; weighed it all against his own understanding of the world, and decided that they slot together as easily as a bullet in a pistol.
“Who are you going with to the Ball?” Mal asks. She’s still clutching her sword. She could claim the upper hand, if she really wanted.
A grin creeps across Jay’s face. All those notes and heart-shaped lollipops. The giggling girls at his locker. He could pick any one of them. All of them so beautiful, in their sunset-coloured dresses. He could have anything he wanted.
“Well,” Jay says. “I was going to ask you.”
The sword’s point makes sure they keep their distance. Never too close. All touches so light; so fleeting, as if you could’ve mistaken them for a dream. As if you could’ve imagined the whole thing. All those nights in the hideout where the barrier of the body seemed thin, and the world became so small: just two kids who wouldn’t even dare knock knees. 
So Mal shakes it all away with a laugh. “I’m not going to the Valentine’s Ball.”
Jay lowers his blade. Neither of them move. “Not even with me?” 
“I’m sure there’ll be plenty of other girls who actually want to go with you.”
“I want to go with you.”
His words echo through the empty hall. His word is as steadfast as ever, the only opinion Mal will ever trust. Compass, anchor: Jay does it all. 
Heralded here, Mal as real as the vast sky outside. Here, in his gaze, held aloft by trust where there shouldn’t be and compassion where there shouldn’t be and understanding where there shouldn’t be. A home for all her broken bones. 
Mal’s lips unfurl into a smile. This ache in her chest. In her throat. Jay always being able to disarm her. Jay in every place she’s ever been. Jay as her shadow; her skin; her second self. A reflection in the mirror. The line of separation is nonexistent. Like the sun, like the moon: one cannot exist without the other.
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razzledazzletrassh · 4 months ago
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no major fic updates just yet guys TAKE MY WOY OC I MADE LIKE. April of last year IM PLUGGING SOME INFO ABOUT THIS GUY IN THE TAGS.
I may also redesign her soon or something. Make her more bug-like with some stuff. I can cook guys let me cook !!!
#THIS IS VAL !!!! dubbed her as a he/she er..#I have lore about this guy and his homeplanet Amore and the Lovebugs..#all that’s really important to know is that ive based the worldbuilding for Amore around svtfoe’s mewni#design wise mostly. I’ll emphasize.#in terms of the societal parts of Amore the kingdom kinda flourishes in the arts of all sorts and trade within the kingdom it goes crazay…#they were pretty closed off from the rest of the galaxy though. like their tech and stuff is pretty outdated compared to most of the other-#planets with atleast escape ships and all that fun stuff.#foreshadowing#ANYHOW lovebugs are silly guys I think of them as like weird hedonistic freaks of sorts#they have very big dionysus worshipping energy to them just to give a perspective#and of course they prioritized relationships and the different forms of love#romance actually wasn’t even the big thing that built the kingdom#it was more like a love for community and friends#which is also kinda silly because of the monarchy aspect to Amore and all that#OH ALSO these guys go absolutely crazy with fashion and makeup. gender isn’t a major thing in the kingdom in my eyes#you WILL serve cunt!! /silly#WORLDBUILDING ASIDEEE Val was the prince to the kingdom and was set to be the heir to the throne#the designs are like three different route ideas ive had for Val#the first is just a baseline design so like. pre amore‘s destruction from dominator#the second is like a good ending design of sorts to my ideal lineup for a season three for woy with val continuing to embrace the lovebugs-#history and culture even with Amore gone and a good portion of her people#and the third. is a bit hard to describe because it’s more of an au but it’s just a concept idea I had of Val teaming up with Dom#(it would be short lived like probably a few months max so dw)#and silly note i joked about the idea of val being an ex to peepers BUT I WANNA DEVELOP THAT MORE BEFORE I SHARE.#tap into that this may be cringe but i am free mindset or something slash silly TEEHEE#BUT YEAH Val’s just a silly gal in my heart and soul no matter what. ive missed her a lot i wanna work on fics with him and especially to-#develop more stuff for Amore and the Lovebugs before Dominator’s destruction of the planet#BUT YEAH i wanna Val post more. go into depth for their dynamic with the other characters and all that#I may cook some more stuff with him once I get these stargazing fics all set and whatnot SO WE’LL SEE!#also /nf but if anyone would wanna ask questions about val/amore/lovebugs ask away I’d love to answer any questions! 🥺
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moonyfr · 3 months ago
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I just learned one of the librarians that works at my school reads Ao3 and she is now my favourite staff member at this school (She was already one of them before she's just better now)
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penguin--person · 1 year ago
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Oh my god. More swap au at some point, AND a temnova focused fic? I can’t breathe I’m gonna throw up(positive). I need my ao3 invitation IMMEDIATELY. You are like, one of backbones for the PAFL fandom and I thank you greatly for your work. If you get an influx of comments on your fics by some account with a dumbass name involving ”krispy” within 2-4 days, it means I am finally free and can test easy. The past month or so, all my waking thoughts have been about PAFL, and ever since I read some of your fics, they’ve been involved in the unholy amalgamation in my brain. This is like the third “ask” I’ve sent you I’m so sorry I think I’m done now have a good rest of your day/night/whatever time it is, remember to eat and drink water, stay safe n healthy, and don’t overwork yourself! Idk what else to say so yeah lmao I’m so excited to be able to read your fics again
AUWAWAAAAAAAAHWHWAWA!!! WWAWAW!!!! WAWAWHAWWW
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THANK U SO MUCH BOSS!!!!WAWAW!!!! thank you so so so much this was a wonderful thing to wake up to!!! do NOT be sorry at all ever for being so nice and kind and cool EVER send as many as you'd like!!!!! and i'll always explode!!! wawawa!!! thank u again!!! teehee!!!
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eldritchbl4st · 8 months ago
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*throws my tav at you*
So this is Irina!! She was my first ever tav so she's got a very special place in my heart <3 tiefling warlock, chaotic good aligned. I have a bunch of lore that frankly warrants its own post but long story short she's a patron of Baba Yaga and has essentially been Extraplanar Delivery Boy since she made that pact
And she's romancing karlach bc duhhhh (Irina is a lesbian in canon also)
So anyway. If you wanna ask me about her..... I do not object :3
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starcrossedmusings · 3 months ago
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Pretty Hands
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Pairing: best friend!Yunho x f!reader WC: 3.2k Warnings: eventual smut, reader has a thing for Yunho's hands (who doesn't??), swearing, fingering, choking, a little bit of degradation (he compares her to a whore literally once), PRAISE so much praise, Yunho talks reader through it (you're welcome), pov is kinda all over the place just let it be, Yunho is absolutely WHIPPED for reader teehee, probably some other things that I missed (let me know)
Summary: You and Yunho have been friends for years, and you tell each other everything. He suddenly takes a much more vested interest in your love life when you can't stop mentioning your newest interest.
A/N: This is entirely self indulgent and also I just wanted to get something full posted. The Phantom fic is turning out to be much longer than I originally anticipated (and so did this one once I started writing it). Let me know what you think♡
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Stepping into Yunho's apartment had always felt like coming home, and today was no exception. You take your shoes off in the tiled entryway and pad your way through the main living area, calling out to him as you walk.
"Yun? I'm here!"
His muffled response flows down from the end of the hall, "Bedroom!"
You make your way through the back hallway and enter his room, finding him exactly where you thought he would be, focused in on his computer. There's a selection of empty drink cans and snack wrappers scattered around his desk, which tells you that whatever he's currently building on Minecraft has probably occupied the majority of his day so far. He pauses the game and turns his chair to face you.
"Whats up?"
"Got bored at home and my roommate isn't even trying to muffle her pornstar moans for her new boy toy."
Yunho barks out a laugh, "Does she seriously sound--"
"Just like it Yun I can't make this shit up. I'm starting to think maybe they're recording themselves in there."
Yunho wiggles his eyebrows as he stretches his arms up and over his head, leaning back in his chair. "Well, if I ever see your living room on Pornhub I'll be sure to let you know"
You crinkle your nose. "Ew. I do NOT need to know that."
"Whatever, don't act like you haven't been talking to me for weeks about how horny you are. If I have to hear about your vibrator dying one more time I'm gonna buy you a new one myself."
"You try getting unintentionally edged three nights in a row with a full charge, it's some bullshit Yun. Besides, I'm allowed to complain about my dry spell."
Yunho scoffs, tone playful and lighthearted. "Dry spell? It's been what? Two months?"
"It's been three thank you very much." You move to sit on his bed.
"Well some of us haven't had sex in much longer."
"Oh, please, that girl that San was messing around with was all over you at his birthday party last month, don't tell me you didn't take that opportunity."
Yunho raises his eyebrows in shock, leaning forward in his chair. "Wait, really?"
"Oh my GOD Yun you are so oblivious. Yes really. She was all giggly and twirling her hair and shit. That's like...girl flirting basics."
"I am not oblivious, I am actually quite observant. I could tell you things about yourself you don't even know. I just have my sights set on someone and that someone is not her."
You shoot him an incredulous look and snort out a laugh, leaning back to lay down completely on his bed, legs dangling off the edge. "Sure Yun, whatever makes you feel better."
You hear Yunho stand from his chair and feel his weight shift onto the mattress. He appears in your vision, a challenging playful sparkle in his eyes as he peers down at you. "Okay, fine. I can tell that you're trying out a new perfume, you just went shopping because your leggings are a different brand than you usually wear, and I know that you washed your hair last night because you're wearing it all the way down today."
You do your best to ignore the way your stomach summersaults at his attention to detail about you and your routines. You roll onto your side and prop your head up on your elbow, matching his challenging gaze. "Okay Sherlock Holmes. What kind of underwear am I wearing then?"
Yunho pauses to consider before responding "a thong, probably black." You grin triumphantly and lean in just a bit closer.
"Wrong. I'm not wearing any. You lose!" You stick your tongue out playfully at him and he swats your shoulder, falling back onto his mattress.
"You set me up!"
"Face it Yun, I'm just better than you."
"Yeah yeah, whatever" Yunho pouts, voice hightening slightly from surprise. He can feel a slight redness creeping up his ears and prays his hair has grown long enough to cover it. 'I'm not wearing any.' He clears his throat. "So why go commando? You finally planning to seduce your new conquest?"
"He is not a new conquest, he doesn't even know I like him."
"He will once he knows you aren't wearing any underwear for him" Yunho jokes, smiling cheekily. You smack at his chest.
"I didn't want to do laundry last night, asshole. Get your mind out of the gutter!"
"You're one to talk" he mutters under his breath.
You sit up fully and reach for one of the pillows at the top of his bed, slamming it down on his face. "Jeong Yunho I swear to god!" On your second swing, he manages to catch the pillow with one hand and pry it from your grasp, but not before giving you an entirely unhelpful image of his long fingers gripping the plush material.
"What?? All I ever hear you talk about lately is how tall and handsome this dude is and how much his hands make you drool."
"You sound jealous."
"I'm not jealous, I'm pissed that I have to hear all about him and don't even get to know what the dude's name is."
"I told you, I'm gatekeeping this time. You run your mouth too much."
"I do not!"
"Do too."
"Ugh FINE whatever," Yunho chucks the pillow back towards you and you dodge it, leaving both pillows on one side of the headboard, "You're so agitating."
"You know you love me Yun. But just for the attitude," You adjust both pillows and shuffle your way back until you're leaned against both of them, "no pillow for you for tonights doomscrolling session."
He huffs a laugh and scoots up to meet you, pulling out his phone and settling in against the headboard.
An hour later you get up to go to the bathroom, and when you get back Yunho has stolen both of his pillows. You frown and cross your arms. "Hey, asshole, those were mine!"
"Yeah?" He taunts playfully, "Well they were mine to begin with, and my back is killing me. So deal." You roll your eyes and cross back over to the bed, crawling over the side you've been sitting on and curling yourself into Yunho's side to rest your head against his chest. You feel him tense slightly underneath you before he moves one of his arms around your shoulders to let you lay more comfortably.
"There's no way in hell I'm sitting up against that cold ass metal frame you call a headboard." You mutter as you begin scrolling. Yunho's chuckle rumbles through his chest and tickles your cheek. You both sit in silence for a while, content to scroll on your phones. Eventually, you turn to look up at him from his chest.
"I meant to ask how your new project has been going. Whatever you were building when I came in looked pretty intense." You can see the faint tinge of red trail up his ears and neck--a telltale sign that whatever you caught him building makes him embarrassed. You sit up, propping your weight on your elbow and placing a hand on his chest to shove him slightly. "Ooooo now you have to tell me what it is!"
"It's embarrassing..."
"Tell me tell me tell me tell me--"
"Okay fine, fuck. I'll tell you if you promise not to laugh--"
"I won't I swear!"
"Pinky promise?" He holds his pinky out to you, and you raise a hand from his chest. Before you can lace your pinky in his, he pulls his hand up above his head. "I'm serious, Y/N, if you laugh I'll have no choice but to tickle you to death."
He's definitely not stalling because he has to come up with a reply, because he certainly hasn't been building a treehouse for you in what he hopes will one day be a shared server. Yunho thinks to himself that he would rather die than let you find out.
You scoff, "I won't laugh...and even if I did I'm not ticklish so your threat is a moot point."
Yunho drops his hand down onto the mattress. "Bullshit."
"It's not. I don't have a ticklish bone in my body."
"Liar."
You shake your head, and Yunho takes the opportunity to gently press the pads of his fingers into the sides of your ribs. The sensation hits you almost immediately, and you feel the tight feeling in your chest as he begins tickling you. You squeal and thrash around in his grasp, trying desperately to get away from his assault.
"Yun stop it--"
"Not until you admit you're a liar!" You begin to giggle and manage to roll away from him, but Yunho is quick to follow. He swings a long leg over your hips and pins you beneath him, a single large hand trapping both of your wrists above your head while the other dances across your ribs. "Admit it," He sings out.
"Okay! Okay fine I'm a liar!" You gasp out between laughter. Yunho beams down at you and immediately stops tickling your sides, leaving you panting underneath him--
Oh fuck...you're panting underneath him.
He can almost feel the shift in the air as he stares down at you. He knows he should move, just roll off of you and make up some bullshit lie about what he was building. You like someone else, and he clearly wasn't getting out of the friend zone any time soon. He's just making a fool of himself...and yet he just can't bring himself to stop memorizing the way you look splayed out beneath his hips. Eventually he forces himself to stop staring at the way your chest rises and falls or the sliver of your tummy that's poking out from underneath your shirt that's riding up. He locks eyes with you.
Your voice comes out softer than he's ever heard you speak before. "Hey Yun?"
"Yeah?"
"You know that mystery guy I've been telling you about? The one with the pretty hands?"
A twinge of annoyance flairs in his stomach and he can't help but grumble out his reply. "Yeah?"
"I'll give you a hint. He's got me pinned to the mattress right now."
Yunho feels his heart drop deep into the pit of his stomach.
"Like...like right now he does?"
You laugh lightly. "Yeah, right now, Yun."
Yunho swallows thickly as his head starts spinning. He leans down much slower than he would have liked to, giving you plenty of time to take it back--to laugh at him and tell him you got him good. He feels like his whole body lights ablaze when you close the final gap between your lips, and suddenly he is kissing you.
In almost any circumstance that you had seen Yunho kissing someone, he was always fast-paced--hot and heavy petting in the corner of a darkened bar, dares in drunken party circles--which is why you were floored at the reverence he was kissing you with now. His mouth was steady and intense against yours, his hands roaming slowly across the expanse of your torso like he was memorizing the feel of something priceless. You gently pull your hands from his grasp and tangle them in his hair, pulling him closer and matching his intensity with your fervor. You feel his hands make their way to the lower hem of your shirt, and your skin erupts in goosebumps as you feel his fingers ghost along the sliver of skin there. He breaks the kiss and you feel his breath fan across your face as he pants. His hands gently make their way to rest just under your shirt, not quite pushing the fabric up. He locks eyes with you.
"Is this okay?"
You chuckle gently. "Yes, Yun, you can touch me. I want you to touch me." You watch his eyes darken and his hands start running up your torso, pulling your shirt up with them.
"Where do you want me to touch you, baby?"
You exhale heavily and arch your back into his touch. "Anywhere...everywhere...I don't care."
Yunho smirks and feels his ego inflate. "You don't care? Hmm..." He starts planting kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck. Slow. Teasing. "If I remember correctly, you seemed pretty keen about having my hands in some specific places baby. Can you refresh my memory?"
The low whine that escapes your throat nearly sends him spiraling. "You know where...don't make me say it."
He does know, but there's nothing he wants to hear more right now than to hear you say it. He brings one hand up to your chest, cupping one of your boobs and squeezing gently as he continues peppering your neck with kisses. "Was it here? Or..." His hand trails back down and grips your hip possessively, "Here, maybe?" He hears you huff and feels your hand wrap around his wrist. You try to tug it up, and he chuckles softly but allows you to move his hand. He nips your earlobe and asks lowly, "Where do you need my hands baby?" He feels his cock twitch in his sweats when you wrap his fingers around your throat, guiding him to squeeze the sides gently. Your hands run down his chest and drop to your sides as he squeezes a little harder. "Fuck, look at you. So pretty with my hand around your neck."
You whine and buck your hips up, desperately looking for friction. Yunho coos as he looks down at you, wanting to have the image burned into his memory. He adjusts his position so he's sat on one side of you and brings his free hand to your thighs, squeezing the flesh there and watching the way you spread your legs for him. "Pretty girl, I need you to use your words. Spreading your legs like a whore isn't gonna get you what you want." He revels in the way you throw your head back onto the mattress and close your eyes, frustration evident already on your face.
"Need your fingers, Yun. Please."
Holy shit, he could combust right then and there. He smiles and traces his hands along the inside of your clothed thighs. "Good girl. So polite for me." He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your leggings and pulls them down and off, leaving you bare from the waist down. "Sit up for me baby. I want you between my legs."
Yunho sits on the edge of the mattress and allows you time to sit up, moving to sit in between his thighs. He hooks your legs over his, leaving you spread and completely at his mercy. A shiver runs down your spine as the pads of his fingers run across your thighs and you gasp as they brush against your core. He presses kisses into your neck and chuckles, "You're already soaking wet, what's got you all bothered hmm? I've barely touched you..." Yunho hums and teases your entrance with this middle finger. He can feel you clenching. "Do you like my hands that much baby? All it takes is a little choking and you're putty for me." He pushes two fingers inside, pumping slowly and curling back to find your sweet spot. He feels pride flare through his chest at the noise you make, a mix between a whine and a moan that eggs him on.
Your toes curl as Yunho almost immediately finds your g-spot. The pace he sets is almost perfect, and when he begins rubbing tight circles on your clit your eyes roll back into your head. The pleasure is a building wave, and it's all you can do to keep yourself remotely still as he continues pumping his thick fingers in and out. "Oh my god, Yun, please don't stop!" You clench helplessly around his fingers and let your head roll back to rest on his shoulder.
"Awe baby I'm not gonna stop. Not until I see how pretty you look cumming all over me. Will you do that for me, sweetheart?" he coos, bringing his other hand back up to your throat and squeezing lightly. "Will you cum all over my fingers? I bet you want to right? Wanna come on my fingers while I squeeze this pretty neck of yours?"
You whine and preen at his words and arch your back. Your legs begin to shake as Yunho's circling on your clit quickens pace just slightly, the thrusts of his fingers audible from the squelching between your thighs. Your breath quickens.
"My pretty girl, you're such a mess for me, aren't you? Can you hear how wet you are? All soaked for me? I bet your hands don't feel as good as mine hmm?"
You shake your head no violently, whining as he continues to talk lowly into your ear. Your orgasm builds quickly, and at this point you have no faith in your ability to speak coherently.
"No, they don't do they? I want you to show me how good my hands feel baby. Let go for me, sweetheart."
Your breath catches in your throat as you tip over the edge, and the feeling of your release washes over you. Your whole body jolts in his grasp as he continues pumping his fingers. You feel him squeeze your throat gently, just enough pressure to remind you that he's got you.
"Atta girl, look at you! Doing so good for me." You whine and buck your hips, orgasm still riding through your body. Yunho nips at your neck lightly and slows his pumping to a stop as you continue to shake. "That's it baby, just grind on them for me." The final aftershock of your orgasm finishes, and you go limp in his arms, leaning all of your weight back into his chest and breathing heavily.
Yunho pulls his fingers out and admires the mess you made on them before popping them into his mouth. He's still rock hard, and the taste of you on his fingers makes him twitch again. He'll definitely need your help with that later. He uses the hand around your neck to brush a stray hair from out of your face. "How are you feeling?"
You huff out a breathless laugh and turn your face to nuzzle into his neck. "How do you think I feel? That was...wow."
He can't help the goofy smile that crosses his face. "Oh really? Tell me more, I'd like a full report." He jokes, pulling the two of you down to snuggle on his bed. He grabs a throw blanket from your side and pulls it over the two of you and nearly melts when you curl closer to him, burying your face into his chest.
"Give me a few minutes to recover and I'll show you exactly how I'm feeling right now." Yunho rubs a hand up and down your back.
"I look forward to that."
"And then afterwards you're going to show me what you've been building."
Yunho chuckles and kisses the top of your head. No way in hell.
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likeumeanit9497 · 3 months ago
Text
you jealous? | c.s. & m.s. |
chris sturniolo x reader x matt sturniolo
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summary: y/n's secret fwb, chris, teaches her a lesson on sharing.
warnings: SMUTTTT; unprotected p in v; fingering; handjob; oral (f receiving); dirty talk; lowk toxic chris (srry); 2 boys 1 night ;); 18+
notes: hiiii guys!! sooooo i know i have been painfully inactive AGAIN over the past few weeks BUT I CAN EXPLAIN!!! so yes i got back from my trip at the start of aug, but i made a super stupid last minute decision to go back to college this fall, so i had to do all my applications, find a new place to live in a new city, AND move out of my old place all since i've been back. sooo i've been a bit busy hence why i haven't been able to write or post anything since the start of the month. BUT to make it up to u all i decided to write a fic for both the matt and chris girlies teehee. side note this is probably the closest i will ever get to a chris x matt x reader threesome okay i can't handle much more than this before it starts feeling weird af, BUT i hope u guys enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it (can u tell the duo streams are making it hard for me to pick one straight triplet to thirst over for the week?? hope someone relates) love u all and can't wait to write some more nasty shit <333
ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ
As I walked through the front door at the party, I really didn’t know what to expect. Sure, the flashing lights, loud rap music, and the sinus-burning waft of alcohol that flooded my senses as soon as I opened the door were a given, but there was so much uncertainty in my life that the night was feeling almost surreal.
“There she is!” I heard Nick’s bellowing voice through the sea of people as I walked up the front steps and entered the living room. Nick was my best friend, and had been since him and his brothers moved to Los Angeles, and he had decided to throw a ‘small’ party for me when I told him that I got a promotion at my job. Nervous to have so much attention on me at once, I smiled sheepishly as he ran over to me with a bottle of tequila in his hand.
After squeezing me so hard that I thought my ribs might break, he waved the half-empty bottle in my face. “You look sober. You can’t be sober at your own party! Let’s go take some shots.” By his rushed speech and disheveled appearance, I could tell that he had been drinking for a while prior to my arrival. And he was right, I was sober, and with the number of eyes on me and unrecognizable people circling me, I knew I had to gain some liquid courage quick.
“I thought you said this was just going to be a small get together Nick, what happened?” I asked quietly as we reached the kitchen. He grabbed us two shot glasses from the stack sitting on the counter, and rushed to the fridge to grab me a High Noon before pouring the tequila. “It’s LA, Y/n, this is a small get together. And besides,” He handed me an overflowing shot glass, “Everyone loves you. Now hurry up and cheers me.” Rolling my eyes, I obliged; lifting my glass in the air and clinking it gently against his before bringing it to my lips and tilting my head back.
The first shot is always the worst, and this one was no exception. I felt the burn as it traveled down my throat and into my stomach, and I winced before finally giving in and chasing with the High Noon that Nick had grabbed for me. “Wooo!” Shouted Nick before pouring more tequila into our glasses. “Hold on, what are you doing?” I tried to protest by covering the top of my shot glass with my hand. Without hesitation, Nick swatted my hand away. “You need another silly. Everyone here has been drinking for hours.” Grumbling under my breath, I let him pour another one, knowing that it was only a matter of time before the person I was most anxious to see would make an appearance.
As if he had sensed my nerves, it was just then, as I was bringing my second shot to my lips, that I saw him walking up the stairs leading to his bedroom. Squeezing my eyes shut, I hurriedly took my shot before chugging half of my drink at once in an attempt to calm my mind. I still had my drink at my lips when he noticed me; his droopy blue eyes scanning the room before they landed on mine. He smirked, soft pink lips curled up in a taunting manner, before waltzing over to where Nick and I were standing.
“Hey there.” He chirped, leaning against the counter just inches away from me. “Hey Chris.” I replied, keeping my tone as nonchalant as possible as I felt his gaze burn into me. “When did you get in?” He asked as I continued to avoid eye contact. I took a sip of my drink. “Just a few minutes ago.” There was a silence between the three of us; the awkwardness so intense that I felt like I could explode. “Okayyyy, I’m gonna go say hi to a few people.” Nick stated before quickly rushing off to the living room, leaving me alone with Chris.
“So,” Began Chris, “Long time no see.” I felt him take a step closer to me before running his hand lightly across the small of my back. Reacting to his touch, I inhaled a sharp breath and my eyes shot to his. “Very funny.” I responded, my voice a low whisper as if anyone could hear our conversation above the loud music and steady chatter in the room. He chuckled, still rubbing my back discreetly. “I thought so.”
It had actually been less than 24 hours since I had seen Chris. Just the night before, my wrists had been tied to his headboard while my legs were wrapped around his waist. A few weeks ago, after a night at the bar with Nick, Chris and I had had rushed, sloppy sex on their living room couch when Matt and Nick were asleep. Since then, him and I had fucked at least a dozen more times without telling a soul. I couldn’t bear the thought of my best friend finding out that I was sleeping with his brother, and Chris couldn’t stand the thought of anyone knowing anything about his personal life. Plus, there was something so sexy about our little secret; and I worried that if anyone found out about what we had been doing, the adrenaline that flooded my veins every time he looked at me with that knowing gaze, or touched me covertly, would disappear.
Over the past few weeks, there had been moments when our secret was almost revealed. Like the one time, when I was changing in Nick’s room, when he saw the dark blue hickeys all across my chest and stomach. Or another time, when I rolled up my sleeves to wash my hands in the kitchen and Matt asked me about the marks on my wrists. Both times, I froze; but both times I was able to come up with little white lies on the spot. I had made up a fictional man — one that lived in another city and they certainly didn’t know — that I had been seeing, and after sharing perhaps too many explicit details, they had both believed me.
Other than that, there had been no other times where people seemed to have any inclination of what Chris and I had been doing — most likely because we hadn’t been around others since we started hooking up. Tonight was the first time that we were going to be drinking with a big group of people, hence why I had been so anxious about how the night might go.
“You wanna go downstairs?” Chris’ voice in my ear pulled me from my thoughts, and I felt that familiar jump in my stomach from the thought of being alone with him right now. However, I was still sober enough to remember that we had to be careful, so I took a moment and glanced around the room. Everyone seemed pretty drunk, but the night was still young, and it was too risky yet. So, I shook my head softly. “We can’t yet, let’s wait for it to get later.” I was whispering just like he had been, and I felt his hand move from my lower back down to my ass, where he cupped it and gave it a generous squeeze. “Got it.” He replied, before snaking off and leaving me alone in our corner of the kitchen. Sighing, I reached for the bottle of tequila that Nick left behind; pouring myself yet another shot. Tonight was gonna be a long night.
𓆩♡𓆪
After a few more shots and a couple High Noons, I was drunk. Unfortunately, it had done nothing to ease my nerves, because I had spent the past hour or so watching Chris get progressively closer to another girl. As I leaned against the kitchen table attempting to keep up a conversation with Matt, I watched as he went from innocently chatting with her, to draping his arm across the back of the couch where she was sitting, to him now; pulling her onto his lap as he slipped his tongue into her mouth.
I tried to act as unbothered as possible, but it wasn’t easy. It’s not like I had any romantic feelings for Chris — him and I had both made it abundantly clear that it was just sex — but I couldn’t help but see red as I watched her run her hands through his messy curls as she rolled her hips on his lap. It was just that the sex that him and I were having was so good, I selfishly didn’t want anyone else to get it from him.
Groaning under my breath, I made an excuse and snuck away from Matt before walking to the fridge to grab one more drink. As I was rummaging through the fridge’s contents, I felt a warm hand brush against my bare leg. “You ready to sneak away now?” His words were hushed just like before, but I couldn’t help but let out a sarcastic laugh. “You can’t be serious.” I replied before closing the fridge and cracking open my drink. Now facing him, I noticed he had a confused expression across his face.
“What happened? Did that girl on the couch give you blue balls?” Even as I spoke, I recognized how stupid and bitter I sounded. A slight twinkle formed in Chris’ eyes, causing me to grow even more angry. “What are you talking about Y/n?” He asked, a small smile crossing his lips. I rolled my eyes, growing increasingly more angry. “The girl who’s tongue was just down your throat. What happened to her?” I asked, noticing how drunk I was sounding. Chris stared at me for a moment, before tilting his head slightly to the side. “You jealous?” He asked, and in that moment I wanted to smack him.
“Of course not,” I said, walking in the direction of Matt’s washroom in an attempt to escape this increasingly uncomfortable conversation, “But you’re crazy if you think you’re gonna come to me only when plan A fails.” Trying the door, I realized that the washroom was locked and I groaned. Chris had followed me down the hall, and now he had me cornered. Just as I was about to turn around and get past him back to the kitchen, he grabbed my arm and pulled me into Matt’s room.
“What are you doing?” I exclaimed in a harsh whisper as my sense of sight was almost completely removed by the pitch-black darkness of the room. I heard the door slam shut behind me, but when I turned around, I could just barely see the outline of Chris’ frame standing just inches from me. Just then, I heard a low chuckle come from his direction. “I can’t believe my Y/n is jealous.” He said, taking a few more steps in my direction before grabbing my waist and pulling me towards him.
“You know that you’re my favourite girl baby,” He started, bringing a hand to my throat and squeezing gently. My head was tilted up, and in the poor lighting the only thing I could make out were his bright blue eyes reflecting my own nervous expression. “But you’ve gotta learn how to share.” Before I could even roll my eyes at his statement, I felt his warm thumb press against my lower lip; urging it open. With hitched breaths, I obliged; parting my lips and opening my mouth slightly.
With his hold on my neck, he tilted my head back even further and I felt, more than saw, his lips just centimetres from mine. Then, without warning, he spit a pool of his saliva into my mouth with expert precision, and at that moment all of my walls caved in. “Now be a good girl for me and get on Matt’s bed.”
With red hot arousal already coursing through me, I didn’t hesitate before rushing over to the unmade bed in the centre of the room. The sound of my racing heart in my ears and the rush of excitement that I was feeling was enough of a distraction from the fact that I was draping my body along a bed that didn’t belong to either Chris or I. The fact that almost anyone could walk in at any moment, and the view that I had once I faced Chris, was enough to cause my head to spin.
There, just in front of me, was a now-shirtless Chris. From my position on the bed, he was looming over me; and the smirk plastered to his face was equal parts terrifying and exhilarating. My needy eyes trailed slowly down his body, first his chest; down to his stomach; then his waistband — wait, what’s that shiny thing in his hand?
As if he heard my thoughts, Chris dangled the object teasingly, allowing me to realize what it was — the silver handcuffs from his room. “Were you just carrying those around all night?” I asked, locking my eyes back on his. He shrugged. “Didn’t know when I was finally gonna be able to use them.” I rolled my eyes, but as I opened my mouth to deliver a snarky reply, I was abruptly cut off by his lips on mine.
Hungry, drunk lips moulded to mine — they tasted like him. All of my annoyance with him dissolved within an instant as he wasted no time in peeling my clothing from my body; only breaking the kiss for a moment as he pulled my shirt over my head in the space between us. Immediately, his hands flew to my lower half where he simply lifted my skirt to give himself access to his favourite part of my body.
He squeezed my ass so hard that it hurt in that deliciously erotic way. Pulling me onto his lap, I felt his growing member press against my aching core as he continued to massage my ass like it was a life source that he had been deprived of for years. Low moans passed through his lips as he indulged, and I felt my body begin to tremble in painful anticipation. “Chris.” I whined before subtly grinding my core against the part of him that I needed most in that moment. I felt his lips turn up into a smile. “What’s wrong Y/n?” His voice was playful but rough from arousal, “I could’ve fucked you hours ago, remember? Then you wouldn’t be so painfully worked up.” I groaned again, not caring how desperate I felt as I dragged my soaked core up and down his clothed shaft for the second time.
Chris used his harsh grip on my ass to lift me off of him, causing me to release a frustrated sigh from the lack of contact. That quickly changed once he slid my panties to the side and used his fingers to gingerly graze my aching centre. I released a soft hiss as his fingers reached my swollen clit; hoping more than anything that he would spend extra time there. He chuckled at my noises, but any care I might have had over that dissipated as his fingers drew rapid circles on my bundle of nerves.
Tucking my head into the crook of his neck, I had to bite hard on his shoulder to keep myself from screaming out profanities from the immediate pleasure that I felt circulating in my body just from his touch. “You know, Y/n,” Chris began, his words coming out choppy from his quick movements, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that you were turned on watching me with that other girl.” I stayed silent, feeling tears well up in my eyes in the same way that my orgasm was welling up in my lower stomach. With all the strength I had, I managed to shake my head weakly in response to Chris’ words; causing him to chuckle.
“You might not think so, in your mind, but your pussy is telling me something different.” Just then, two of his long fingers slipped effortlessly inside of me. Unable to hold back now, I released a sharp scream into his bruised shoulder. His fingers began moving in and out of me slowly, curling right up to my g-spot each time. “Oh yeah,” His fingers began picking up speed; filling the room with the sounds of my arousal, “You hear that? You’re pussy’s so fuckin’ wet, it’s giving away your deep dark secrets.”
Moans now fell from my lips carelessly as his actions and words brought me closer and closer to an earth shattering orgasm. Maybe he was right, maybe there was a part of me that loved the thought of him being with another girl. Maybe I liked the idea of watching from the sidelines as he touched, kissed, or even fucked other girls.
Or maybe I just loved the idea that, no matter how many other girls he’s with, he will never find a better fuck than me.
That was the last thought I had before my mind was overtaken by the tidal wave of my orgasm. Arching my back in pleasure, I moaned out profanities as Chris’ fingers worked my pulsing core. I felt my legs shake as the relentless euphoria tore through my body, until Chris quickly removed his fingers from my core, lifted me up off of his lap, and bent me over the side of the bed all in one motion.
The cool air against my soaked and exposed core caused me to gasp, but still I waited exactly where he placed me with trembling limbs as I anticipated his next move. The sharp sound of a zipper filled the dark room, and after a moment I felt the heat from Chris’ member press against my wetness. Immediately and without thinking, I began rolling my hips in a weak attempt at relieving the unyielding want deep inside of me, but a firm hand on my hip promptly stopped all movements. “Wait one minute, Y/n.” Chris said, and I heard the sound of metal clanking together before the ice cold handcuffs were placed around my wrists.
I felt my stomach do a flip just like it always did when Chris tied me up in any way that he could, and once he was content with their placement, he gripped both of my wrists in one of his hands as he used his other to line his shaft up with my opening. I felt his tip slide up and down my slick folds a handful of times, causing an anticipatory shiver to crawl up my spine, before the indescribable satisfaction of feeling his length stretch my walls caused me to sigh in relief. That satisfaction was quickly replaced by gritty need as Chris began slamming his cock deep into me at a relentless pace. His hand tightened around my wrist as he gained momentum, causing the harsh metal of the handcuffs to dig into my skin; increasing the pleasure that I was feeling.
The room was filled with the sounds of my ass slapping against his front, and I knew even without him saying anything that the view he had was driving him crazy. Just as expected, his hand dropped a sharp smack to my left ass cheek before gripping onto it ruthlessly. “You feel so fucking good wrapped around me baby.” Chris’ voice was already deep and guttural, and I could tell that he wasn’t gonna last very long. Moaning in response, I bit onto the comforter beneath me to muffle the sound as I relished in the feeling of his cock hitting just the right spot on each harsh thrust.
“This is what you needed, huh? I knew by your attitude you were dyin’ for it.” His filthy talk was enough to send me another strong wave of vertigo, and I felt my restrained hands desperately try to grab onto him in any way so that I could stabilize myself. “You know this cock is yours,” Chris continued, both his movements and his voice now growing choppier, “But just because something is yours doesn’t mean you can’t share.” I felt my body begin to tense up, goosebumps raised on my skin as I felt my pleasure begin to boil over.
“Fuck, gonna cum baby.” Chris’ words were rushed, and as he spoke them he quickly pulled his swollen length out of my wincing core. After a few pumps in his hand, I felt his warm fluid shoot onto my back and collect in a small pool. As he came down from his high, I heard small grunts leave his mouth and I wanted nothing more than to use my own restrained hands to milk him dry. After a few moments of silence, both of us simply catching our breaths, Chris spoke. “Sorry, Y/n, I didn’t expect to cum so fast.” He massaged my ass with his hands as he spoke.
“It’s okay.” I replied, though the screaming need in between my legs was saying otherwise. “Get up on the bed and arch that back, I’ll get you there.” His words caused my body to quiver once again. Just as I was about to do as he told me, the shocking sound of a door opening caused me to freeze in place like a deer in headlights.
“Chris who the fuck are you talking to in my ro-”
The familiar voice filled the room and deafening silence immediately followed. Chris’ hands were still on my waist, and I felt my skin grow hot in embarrassment. In the heat of everything that had happened over the past little while, I had forgotten who’s room we were in. But now, that person’s voice pulled me back to reality, and I was reminded of the fact that my naked body had been pressed against his bed as I was fucked senseless by his brother.
Still, no one was speaking. My face was buried in the comforter, where I planned on keeping it in order to avoid facing the situation I found myself in. The silence felt like a fifty pound weight pressing against my bare back, and I prayed to the universe that someone was going to speak. Just then, I felt Chris shift behind me; placing a hand on the back of my neck and leaning towards my ear.
“I know how to share what’s mine. Watch this.”
His words sent chills down my spine, and that chill was exemplified once I felt the heat of his body move away from me. Through the pounding anxiety in my head, I was able to hear a few footsteps followed by an entire conversation performed in well-executed whispers. Chris and Matt spoke in hushed tones for what felt like hours as I continued to stay in the place that Chris had left me; my heart racing and breath heaving at the thought of what they might be talking about. Chris’ last statement was ominous, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to decipher what he meant: he wanted to share me with Matt.
As they spoke to one another, I went over the idea of it in my head. It was wrong, for sure. I was already fucking one of my best friends’ brothers, but to fuck both of them in one night was too far. Plus, I had never had any interest in Matt before. Him and I were friends, sure, but not once had I considered doing anything more with him. Because I was already fucking his brother, and his other brother is my best friend. It was wrong, end of story.
But then why did I feel a new trickle of my own arousal fall down my leg at the thought of Matt’s eyes glued to my naked body right now?
I’m fucked.
“You okay, Y/n?” I heard Chris’ voice and it pulled me out of my trance. I knew what he meant by that. “Yes.” I replied, wincing at the desperation laced through my tone. A chuckle came in response, then the sound of the door opening — bringing with it bright lights and an increase in clarity of the constant party chatter — before it clicked shut; and then, silence.
I could hear nothing around me but my own heavy breathing, and if I didn’t know any better I would genuinely believe that I was alone in the room at last. But I did know better, because I could feel his tired blue eyes on my body. I still hadn’t moved, couldn’t move. My face was still buried deep in his comforter and I was too afraid to face him yet. My legs felt like jello, and I knew that if I wasn’t already bent over his bed, I would have collapsed by now.
Finally, I hear footsteps. They were slow, and I couldn’t tell which direction they were going, but he was finally moving. Next I heard the shuffling sound of some sort of fabric, then more footsteps. This time, I was sure they were heading for me. I was proven right when I felt the heat of his body behind me. Suddenly, I released a sharp gasp when I felt the soft material of a towel against my lower back. Matt wiped the pool of his brother’s cum off of my lower back in silence, and even the accidental brush of his knuckles against my clammy skin set me on fire.
“So, this was what those marks on your wrists were from.” He finally spoke, and his voice in this setting was so unfamiliar that I physically jumped. In my silence, he assumed I didn’t understand what he meant, so I felt him tap lightly on the metal around my wrists. “The handcuffs.” He clarified even further. “Uh,” I cleared my throat, trying to sound confident, “Yeah.” At that, I felt his hands travel around the perimeter of the cuffs, trying to find something, when suddenly I heard a faint click and my wrists were free.
Taking the cuffs completely off of me, he rubbed my aching wrists gently with both hands. Even this touch, one seemingly so innocent and caring, shot waves of pleasure to my core. “You’re sure you’re okay with this?” His words grounded me for just a moment; reminding me that this is in fact real life, yet still I responded with zero hesitation. “I’m sure.”
Again, silence. But this time, it was accompanied by the remarkable feeling of Matt’s gentle fingers trailing down my spine, leaving goosebumps in their trail. “Turn around for me.” His voice had dropped an octave since he last spoke, and while it was still far from threatening, it was no longer the comforting tone he had used as he took my cuffs off.
The shame I had previously felt from the situation had been stripped off of me by his touch, so I barely hesitated before lifting my head off of the bed and turning my body so that I was now facing him. In the dark, the outline of his body looked nearly identical to his brother, but I was able to easily tell the difference. My body didn’t react in excited fear when I saw his frame, but instead it responded in anticipatory comfort; as if I knew I had nothing to be nervous about.
Sitting cross-legged in the middle of his bed, I watched his chest rise and fall in silence for a moment. Unable to really see his eyes, I was unsure what he was looking at, but I knew he was looking at me. Just then, I watched as he climbed onto his bed, meeting me where I was. He leaned so close to me that I had to allow my head to fall back against the comforter. Now laying on top of me, using one arm to brace his weight, I suddenly felt the lust seeping out of his veins just before his lips attached to mine.
His lips were slightly softer, and slightly fuller than Chris’, and they moved with just the slightest bit more apprehension for a moment. That quickly dissipated, however, as after just a few short moments I felt his tongue run against my lower lip; begging for access to my mouth. I obliged, and relished in the new and exciting taste of him. His lips were cold — the faint scent of cigarette smoke on his skin told me that was because he had just been outside — and they felt amazing against my own hot, swollen lips. As I felt one of his hands snake up to my chest, I released a soft moan. My pleasure began to double, and then triple, when I felt him squeeze my tit and run a thumb along my hardened nipple before doing the exact same to the other one.
Having complete access to my hands for the first time in what felt like forever, I used that to my advantage and began exploring Matt’s body. His frame was slightly thinner than Chris’, and I relished in the feeling of a raised, fresh tattoo against my fingers as I traveled down his arm. Reaching his waist, I grazed my hand against his clothed member; already painfully hard and pressing against his jeans. As I palmed it a few times, Matt released a soft moan in my ear before moving his mouth down to my left tit; swirling his slippery tongue against my nipple and causing me to shutter in pleasure. After taking his time with the left, he moved his mouth to the right. While Chris’ favourite part of my body is my ass, clearly Matt has found his own personal favourite.
While the feeling of his mouth on my tit was already causing my head to spin, I desperately needed more. I fumbled with the button and zipper on his jeans, before slowly pulling them down his legs and hopefully granting his member some relief. With his mouth still on my tit, Matt helped me by pulling them down the rest of the way, along with his boxers. Once his boxers were off and his cock was able to spring free, I immediately grabbed it in my hand and began pumping up and down. Another soft groan left his lips, and the vibration from it against my sensitive nipples caused me to moan in reply.
As I pumped his member in my hand, I felt his own hand trail down my body before finally landing on the place where I needed it the most. As if he knew my body by heart, Matt found my clit in seconds and wasted no time before rubbing it at the same pace that I was jerking him off at. His mouth detached from my tit and found mine, but in our world of equal pleasure the kiss was sloppy; our mouths fell open at times and tongues swiped in and out mindlessly.
“Y-you feel good?” Asked Matt, his voice soft and choppy at the same time. Nodding my head, I widened my legs with the desperation of needing more. “Want to feel all of y-you Matt.” I whispered, opening my eyes and finally meeting his. In the dim light, they were glossed over. His pupils were so dilated that, if I didn’t know him before, I would have assumed his eyes were brown. He blinked at me for a quick moment, but didn’t make me wait long before positioning himself in between my legs.
I watched in awe as his body hovered over mine. I flinched slightly as he lined his member up to my opening; my core still slightly sore from a few minutes ago. Noticing, Matt looks back up at me. “I’ll go slow, okay?” Nodding, I drop my jaw as Matt sinks into me, keeping true to his word but still bottoming out. I felt every inch of him stretch me out, and as he stayed still to allow me a moment to adjust to him, I couldn’t help but release a frustrated moan. As if he has been in tune with my needs for years, Matt takes this simple remark for what it means, and slowly began thrusting into me.
Although his pace is slow, his shaft pleasures what seems like every nerve inside of me before finally reaching my spongey g-spot with a quick snap on each thrust. His movements are so pleasurable it’s almost excruciating, and I struggle to keep the moans from falling helplessly from my mouth. What’s more, is that even with my eyes screwed shut in ecstasy, I can feel his eyes on my face, taking in every expression and hushed sound that I make. “You want more?” He asks, his voice in a strained whisper. I shake my head. “N-no. Keep going just like that, please.” I reply, and I release a breathy moan when I feel him wrap my legs around his waist before continuing in the same unbeatable rhythm.
I run my hands through his dark brown hair, before allowing them to rest on the nape of his neck. I relished in the feeling of his back muscles tensing on each meticulously controlled thrust, before pulling his head down so that I could kiss him. Normally, I’m not someone who cares much about kissing during sex, but there was something about the deprivation and tenderness of his soft kiss that seemed to bring me even closer to an orgasm than his cock did. As he kissed me, his pace never wavered, but I could tell by the soft grunts falling from his lips that he was getting close.
As if reading my mind, he suddenly pulled out of me and I felt him shift on the bed. Thinking that he was about to cum on my stomach and that I was going to once again be deprived of an orgasm, I felt embarrassing tears well up in my eyes. However, I was pleasantly surprised by the sudden feeling of his tongue twirling skillfully against my clit. My hands immediately flew to his hair, and I was no longer capable of holding back the moans that fell from my lips. As he continued eating my pussy, he slid two fingers into my core and began pumping them the exact same way he pumped his cock into me just moments before.
In that moment, I was in total euphoria. I was sure that my knuckles were turning white from the death grip that I had on Matt’s hair, just as I was sure that if anyone was on the other side of the bedroom door — or, in the bathroom for that matter — they would definitely hear the filth that was falling from my mouth. But I had lost the ability to care, because all of my thoughts were highjacked by the unutterable levels of pleasure that were surging through my body in that moment.
And what made everything that much more intense, was the fact that Matt so clearly loved what he was doing to me. Every few seconds, I felt a deep moan fall from his mouth and vibrate off of my bundle of nerves, and in the off chance that I had my eyes open, watching him, I noticed him grinding his hips against his bed to gain some sort of relief. “I-I — oh fuck! — Matt, I’m c-close!” I exclaimed, feeling the waves of my orgasm rise threateningly close to the surface.
At my proclamation, Matt moved in one swift motion and slid his cock back into me. His pace was the same as it was before, but this time his thumb found my swollen clit and he began rubbing it quickly. “Gonna cum too. Where do you want me?” My legs were back around his waist, and my fingers were digging into his shoulder blades as I struggled to gather my thoughts. “Anywhere you want Matt!” My words breathless and exclamatory, I was barely able to get them out before an indescribable orgasm tore through my body.
I might have truly screamed out in pleasure, and dug my nails into Matt’s skin so far that he bled, but I have no way of knowing for sure — I had lost all of my senses through the overwhelming waves of pleasure. All I remember is feeling as if the pressure that had been building up inside of me for so long had been too much, and my brain had exploded. For what could have been minutes or hours — but which was probably only a few seconds — I truly thought that I might have died. But then, suddenly, I was back in my body, and it was convulsing uncontrollably through a life altering orgasm.
When I came back to my senses, Matt had his damp forehead resting against mine. His body had stilled above me, but I could feel his member twitching inside of me; painting my walls in his signature shade of white. Both of our breathing was ragged as if we had both just completed a marathon, and we both stayed still, in complete silence, as we came down from our highs.
After a few moments, Matt placed a soft kiss to my forehead before slowly removing himself from my centre. I watched him walk over to where he had discarded the towel, picking it up and bringing it over to me to help me clean myself up. So far neither of us had spoken, but I didn’t care very much as my mind was still not fully connected to my body. Finally, he spoke. “You still feel okay about this?” He asked as he began putting his clothes on. I smiled, almost laughing at the absurdity of the caution in his words. “I feel more than okay Matt.” I replied, to which he released a small laugh before handing me my shirt.
Once I was dressed, I managed to get myself to my feet. Standing at the edge of the bed, I suddenly felt nervous about walking back out into the party after being gone for so long. As if he read my mind once again, Matt walked to the door first. “I’ll head out first, then you can come out in a few minutes.” I laughed nervously but nodded. “Sounds good. See you out there.” I watched as his hand reached for the door knob before turning back to the bed to find my phone.
“Oh and Y/n?” I faced him again, “Chris might be good at sharing, but I’m not.”
His words made my already unsteady knees wobbly, and I dropped back onto the bed once he closed the bedroom door behind him. All at once, every moment of the night hit me like a freight train, and I finally realized what happened. I fucked Matt. Just a few hours ago, I was pretending to have a normal conversation with him as I was green with envy watching Chris make out with that girl. I had never planned on doing anything even close to what I had done with him, yet here I am, sitting on his bed. I close my eyes. I can still feel him inside of me. He was so good. But Chris was also sogood. Both of my best friends’ triplet brothers. How did I get here?
I’m fucked.
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─
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artdcnaldson · 6 months ago
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okay but PLEASE elaborate on Olympics!Art AU
TeeHee
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Rating: E (18+)
Warnings: SMUT (p in v), feral obsessive behavior, infidelity
A/N: And you would do it too, that’s all I’m saying. Also IMPORTANT note: I love Tashi, she is a mother to many. However this fic has a very obsessive reader who just wants to fuck a married man, at Tashi’s expense
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Maybe you were a bad person.
You’d met Art and Tashi Donaldson before— a year back at an event held for Tennis’ rising stars. That was you, some other guys who had done well in the Juniors, a girl from an Ivy League, and more people that fell into the blind spots of your interest..
You must’ve looked so sweet in your formalwear, approaching the couple with shaking hands so you could say just how big of a fan you were. You had no ill intent then, not when you were face to face with two people you’d idolized since you were twelve and watching the Junior US Open. That night you’d taken a deep breath as you stared at the ceiling of your home, feeling like you’d made it.
Sure, Art was handsome, and you’d lived the past decade harboring a massive celebrity crush on him, but he was married, he was untouchable. Art Donaldson oozed that sweet, devoted husband shtick. Anniversary posts, birthday posts, Valentine’s Day posts, Mother’s Day posts. He had a daughter, he posted about how much he loved being a dad.
You were fine accepting that your fantasies of fucking Art Donaldson were strictly fantasies. But that was before you qualified and had to see him every fucking day.
Art Donaldson, who held open doors for you, who talked to you casually, like he might an old friend. Art, who stood in the long line in the food court with you, ate something he probably shouldn’t have, and asked that you don’t tell Tashi.
And you’d smile conspiratorially, and assure him his secret was safe with you. The implication being that you’d keep that secret, and more. As many as he’d ask you to, really.
You’d see him on a practice court, running drills with his wife, and feel the heat of jealousy in the pit of your stomach. You’d turn away, focus on your own game, practice until your hands were aching and sore.
“Where’s Mrs. Donaldson?” You asked one night after you’d been sexiled and had to sit out in the hallway waiting for your roommate to finish up. Art leaned against the wall, standing tall above you, so you had to crane your neck. You liked that point of view, on your knees looking up at him, you wondered if he liked it too.
“Oh, she’s staying in a very nice, very expensive hotel room with our daughter right now,” he said with a grin. “As soon as my events are done, that’s where I’ll be too.”
“Oh,” you said, bringing an easy smile to your lips. “Well, we’re all glad you’re here now.”
“We?” He questioned.
You gave a coy smile, batting your lashes so sweetly. “Maybe just me.”
There was a strange expression on his face for just a moment. Then he laughed like it was nothing. He wished you a goodnight and good luck in your matches the next morning, and disappeared into his own room.
You medaled in women’s doubles. They published photos of you and your partner biting the silver between your teeth. That same day, Art Donaldson took home gold. You were there to see the very end of his last match— every single collision of racket against ball, every step, every grunt of exertion. Your thighs clenched as you watched, fists balled up in the fabric of your skirt.
You wanted him in a needy, desperate sort of way. Like a groupie for a rock band, or a virgin being sacrificed on a mountaintop. You watched him celebrate with a kiss from Tashi and felt that same need like an open wound. Jealousy was festering in you like a rot.
The dive bar wasn’t what you’d expected. Something Art had found with a quick google search and a few minutes with a translation app. He’d knocked on your door to invite you, wearing the beaming smile of someone on top of the world.
“So you’ll come?” He asked after he told you all about it.
“Mhmm,” you said, heart hammering against your ribs. “I’ll come.”
And there you were— in a dress that hardly qualified as such— standing so close to him that you could smell his expensive cologne. His arm would brush yours, he’d glance over and apologize with a warm hand to your arm. You’d clench your thighs together and peer at him through your lashes. It’s fine, don’t worry about it.
A few of the other players disappeared to play darts, or watch the late night coverage of the other sports still competing. You stuck by Art’s side, happily allowing his attention to fall on you completely.
“I saw parts of your doubles final,” he said finally. He was drinking a brand of beer you’d never seen before— something local, you supposed. “You looked beautiful out there.” Your eyes lit up, and then he added. “The way you were playing, I mean— it was phenomenal.”
“Well, I’m no gold medalist,” you said. You let your hand rest on his arm, and looked up at him. The fingers on your other hand toyed with the edge of the medal, warm from where it had been flush against his chest.
He swallowed. You felt his muscles flex beneath your touch, but he didn’t discourage it. Not one fucking bit.
It wasn’t lost on you that Tashi wasn’t there. Not that it was really her type of venue, from what you had gathered. It wasn’t lost on you that Art Donaldson was at a dive bar, drinking random Brazilian beers, instead of celebrating with his wife, with his daughter. Fuck all those posts on his instagram— if he really was a good husband, a faithful one… that’s the only place he’d want to be.
“I saw your match too. I ran right over after my ceremony to watch,” you confessed. It was hard to concentrate on anything else— you were standing so close to him that you were nearly pressed completely into his body.
His lips twitched in interest. “Yeah?”
You nodded. “Mhmm. It was incredible. You were so dominant out there, just taking what was rightfully yours.”
He swallowed again, gravitating closer. Your tits were practically spilling out of your dress— he probably got the perfect eyeful when he eased you closer with a firm hand on your lower back, when he looked down at you through blown pupils.
“You looked so fucking hot out there, Art,” you said, lips brushing against his jawline. “You can’t even imagine how it felt sitting there, watching you win. How turned on I got… how wet.”
Art exhaled a shuddery breath. “Jesus Christ.”
It must’ve been a while since he had someone want him this bad, you thought. Clearly he needed it— needed a pretty, sweet thing to tell him just how much they wanted him. You could be that. You could do that.
“I’m not wearing panties,” you whispered in his ear. His grip on you tightened and you had to suppress a giddy smile. “You can feel if you want. I won’t tell.”
He swore under his breath and glanced around. Everyone was too occupied or drunk to give a shit about what the two of you were up to.
He grabbed your hand, pulled you away into the bathroom. You looked pretty even then, in the flickering lights, sat up on the edge of the sink eagerly awaiting his attention.
When he wrenched your thighs apart, he was greeted by the pretty sight of your glistening cunt— sticky with arousal and need. His hand fit there perfectly, right where you needed it.
“Fuck,” you gasped. His fingers rubbed through your slit— wet and hot and aching for him. Your head fell back, knocking against the dirty mirror. “Want you to use me— whatever you want, just take it.”
And you meant it too. This was your teenage idol— a man you’d touched yourself to the thought of countless times. He owned your body, your sexuality, as much as you did. It was only fair he took from it whatever he pleased.
You watched with hungry eyes as he fumbled with the button of his pants, then shoved them down just enough to free his dick.
Your mouth fucking watered with the need to feel it on your tongue, nudging against the back of your throat. You weren’t opposed to begging— you nearly started before you got it into your hand.
Warm, thick, pulsing. Precum beaded at his tip, so you smeared it around the sensitive head of his cock with your thumb. He groaned, bucked into your fist once, twice before he moved your hand.
“Spread your legs wider for me,” he said, slapping the inside of your thighs. You obeyed wordlessly, spreading yourself out invitingly. He pressed closer, so you felt him rutting his dick against your pussy, coating it in your arousal. “God, you’re so fucking wet.”
The words came out with equal parts disgust and awe. He probably thought you were a slut with the way you were throwing yourself at him. You wished he’d just call you that, spit it in your face.
Your cunt pulsed with need, aching to be filled up finally. The culmination of years of fantasizing. Art pressed himself against your entrance, sinking himself into you with the slow reverence of a man who liked making love.
He buried himself inside of you and had to stop moving to keep from cumming then and there. He was a perfect image of restraint— the way his fingers dimpled the flesh of your hips in a bruising grip.
Art wanted to be a gentleman— to give you time to adjust to the size of him, to ease you into it and let the pleasure be a slow, soft burn. He pulled out nice and easy, slid himself into your wet, throbbing cunt. That was all fine and good, but you knew it was just pretense. You were laid out and wanting, begging for him to use you as his own personal toy.
“I’m not your wife, Art.” You met his gaze, locked your ankles around his waist. “Fuck me like you mean it.”
The first thrust, the first real one, knocked the air from your lungs. That silence didn’t last long— because you got what you wanted— he was really fucking you, bullying his cock into your pussy with the same need and desperation that you felt.
“Jesus Christ, you’ve— fuck— you’ve got no fucking self respect, huh?” He pounded into you, leveraging his grip to pull you against him, really impale you on his dick.
The moan that escaped you was pornographic. If he kept talking to you like that, if he kept fucking you like that, you’d cum.
“You don’t even care, do you? This fucking pussy’s squeezing me so tight— you fucking love this,” His voice was strained, interrupted by groans and pants.
You moaned, eyes rolling back. “Love this,” you echoed. When you looked down, at the sight of him splitting you open, of the ring of creamy arousal circling the base of his dick, you felt dizzy. Like you were standing on top of a tall building and looking down. Sort of out of body, tethered in the present by brutal thrusts into your pussy and the wet, slapping sounds of your bodies joining.
Your fingers moved between your thighs, rubbing needy and insistent at your clit. So close to finishing that you wanted to cry and just ask to start over again, that you’d savor it more a second time.
“Gonna cum,” he groaned suddenly. You felt him start to pull out, to leave. It wasn’t fucking fair.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck— not yet, you didn’t want it to end like that. “I have an IUD,” you lied through your teeth. You used your legs, pulled him closer, deeper. “Just keep going, don’t stop. I’m right there.”
He moaned against your throat— holding you tight, fucking into you with animal need. Your fingers moved against your clit with an insistent need. It didn’t take much to push you over the edge. Your moans so loud that Art had to put his medal between your lips to shut you up.
And you were so pliant— letting him drill into your aching, used cunt, your mouth tasting like metal. You felt his rhythm falter— one, two harsh thrusts that knocked muffled moans from you until he came, painting your insides thick, creamy white.
He stayed buried inside of you for a while— panting, doing his best to catch his breath. You spat out the medal and it fell back against his chest, spit slick and shining. You reached up, ran your fingers along his face, reverently, sweetly. A lock of hair fell into his eyes and you tucked it away with delicate fingers.
When he pulled out, you felt that sinking feeling of loss and jealousy in your chest. He redressed in silence, turned away like he couldn’t stand to look at you, or the mirror. Shame rolled off of him in waves that you wanted to brush away.
It wasn’t bad, you’d assure him. You’re a tennis star, you’re the greatest in the world. You should have whatever you want, whenever you want it.
But you didn’t say that. You just tidied yourself up as best as you could and slipped back out into the bar. If anyone noticed, they said nothing.
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u3pxx · 8 months ago
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“Thanks a bunch, Trucy,” Apollo muttered through chomps of his bagel. Her bounciness jolted to a stop, her stare locking onto Apollo. It was as if Apollo had grown another head. At this point, anything was possible. “You called me Trucy,” she plainly stated. “Yes, is that not your name?” He smiled the best he could at her, though Klavier could see the sweat pooling at his forehead. “It’s not that,” she continued. “You always call me Frau Wright, or Frau Magician. I’ve never heard you use my first name.”
new chapter update for @strawberricakeandpie's fic, turnabout on a friday! last time @taxkha drew the chapter art and now it's my turn once again! don't mind that the style changed from the first spot art i drew haha don't mind th
extra stuff under read more ;^P | like what i do? support me on ko-fi!
i can't think of much to say about drawing this, so many things have happened since this piece that i kind of, don't remember much of the drawing process ASKSKS
i did remember that i used a new pen for inking this one! watch out for that in future spot art made by me because i shrimply can't help myself. sometimes i draw with a pen for months and months and suddenly i hate how it feels, i'll have to not use it for a long time before my brain decides that that pen is okay again, it's weird pftt
i do enjoy the color's for this one!!!!! i'm so enamored with that shade of purple i used on klav and the light blue i used on trucy. apollo!klavier nervously eating his bagel in the background was so funny to me pftt
and a lil bonus thing, as you may or may not have noticed, i usually draw apollo with a yellow pupil, and since he's in klavier's body...
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klavier!apollo also has a yellow pupil! i usually give klav a blue one so teehees :^]
i think giving body-swapped characters little traits of each other is pretty fun! i've been doing it with klav!apollo's two strands of hair that keep sticking up and apollo!klav's bottom lashes pftt
if you managed to read this far and still have not read the fic, what're you doing man!!!
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3igbootyl0ver · 17 days ago
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A New Face
pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader
summary: where the group of friends meet Chad's new roommate.
word count: 1737
Pt.2 | Pt.3 | Pt.4
a/n: heyyyyy this is my first ever fic I've written, don't mind it being cringy and I'm open to feedback teehee hope ya'll enjoy (p.s I'm new to this whole Tumblr thing cut me some slack 😭)
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Chad has been trying to convince the core four to hangout at his apartment. He had been feeling lonely recently since Mindy and Anika had recently moved in together. 
It took him a few weeks to finally convince them into hanging out at his apartment. With Sam’s paranoia and busy work schedule, and the heavy workload for Tara,Mindy, and Anika in college, they were finally able to make the time and hangout. Plus, they could use a new scenery besides the Carpenter’s apartment, right?
That particular day they were supposed to meet up at Chad’s apartment, Tara was feeling under the weather, her finals for her college exam was killing her; And all she wanted to do was eat some greasy dough with sauce and meat while watching scary movies. 
“Hey guys! Come in, the pizza is getting delivered soon.” Chad exclaimed while hopping on his toes, feeling ecstatic since he hadn’t met them for a while. 
“What’s with you? you’re acting like a kid, dude.” Mindy commented, noticing her twin brothers’ gleamed faced and excitement. 
“Sorry, I’ve been lonely and I’m just glad we’re all together again. THE CORE FOUR! And Anika, of course.” 
“Didn’t you put up an online ad for a roommate? Where are they?”
“You don’t learn, do you?” Sam added, frowning with Chad’s method of calling in someone to fill in the extra room. 
Chad abashedly chuckled, and lowered his head, his cheeks burning up from embarrassment. It was Sam, who wouldn’t be scared?
“My roommate is cool! They’re out for work and should be here soon. They’re not a psychotic serial killer, I promise.”
Sam was skeptical, rightfully so. Meanwhile, Tara was sat on the couch, with her legs on the coffee table while scrolling through the tv to find a movie to watch. She couldn’t bother joining in on the conversation. She felt mentally exhausted from her exams and just wanted a day’s rest. 
After a while, the group was playing card games while eating their pizzas and watching movies. 
“That’s not fair Mindy! Stop giving me all the +4 cards!” Tara shrieked, feeling frustrated after getting the card that made her double the number of cards she had at least 4 times, making her chances of winning low.
“Whatever you big baby. Just admit that you suck in uno,” Mindy responded, smirking triumphantly while raising her voice
Tara rolled her eyes, not accepting her defeat and continued arguing with Mindy, with the rest watching amused by the entertainment. Unsurprisingly , Tara lost after Mindy getting rid of her cards before her. She couldn’t get rid of her cards with the suspicious amounts of +4 cards Mindy had. 
“Uno! Looks like I win, LOSER!”
“How about I shove this uno cards up your a-“
Tara’s reply was interrupted by the front door opening, revealing you carrying your backpack on your shoulders and your motorcycle helmet hanging off your hand (which peaked Tara’s interest, of course.) You looked tired, with dark circles under your eye, wearing your hoodie and sweatpants. 
Even so, Tara still thought you were the most beautiful human being she had ever seen. She was practically having heart eyes and drooling at this point, with Mindy noticing her stare and grinning cheekily. 
“What’s up dude. Tough day at work?” Chad commented, trying to create a conversation. 
“You know it, man” you softly chuckled while locking the door. 
“Anyways, my friends are gonna be here for a while. I hope you don’t mind,”
“Not at all, I’m probably just going to take a nap anyways,” you replied, finally looking at the group of people staring you. 
Mindy gave you a nod, already knowing who you were from her brother. Anika smiled and waved at you, which you responded by giving a soft smile back. Sam was staring you down, which made you uncomfortable and creeped out but ignored her action. Tara was well, staring at you? But not how Sam stared at you, she had a blank look on her face. 
Once you left and went into the hallway to your room, Mindy decided make a certain Carpenter’s life a living hell. 
“Tara, are you blushing right now? I didn’t know you had a type” she teased
“Shut up, Mindy. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You guys don’t find her suspicious? Seriously?” Sam commented, wondering why they weren’t skeptical like they usually were when there was new people around. 
It wasn’t new, after the incident of Ghostface, they all had their guards up, scared to open up to new people, to new faces. 
“They’re nice, I promise. How about I call them out so you guys can get to know them? They’re Y/N, by the way” Chad suggested, trying to convince them (especially Sam) to get to know you better before jumping into conclusions that you were a serial killer. 
All of them collectively agreed, with Tara nodding with a slight tint on her cheeks. Chad went up to your room and called you out, suggesting that you should hang out with them. Tara assumed it went well, as Chad grinned toothily and walked away. 
You’ve really peaked her interest. She didn’t know she had a type. The people she had dated before didn’t really cast a spark on her.  She didn’t feel happy or enjoyed her time during those relationships. It felt like she was the problem, however the thought was down the drain after going to a few therapy sessions with Sam after the Ghostface incident. Through the sessions, Tara found out that she didn’t feel happy through the lack of trust and being paranoid that her partner would be a killer. That’s understandable, it’s not everyday that your (ex) girlfriend tries to murder you. 
However after seeing you for 10 seconds, her mind was clouded by you. She noticed that you were as tall as Chad and probably plays sports too, based on your physique. All she thought of was finding out more about you.  Do you study in Blackmore? What bike do you own? Do you prefer cats or dogs? Did you find her cute?
‘Come on, Tara. Get it together.’ She reminded herself  after that embarrassing thought. 
When she saw you come out with the same sweatpants, but with a black t-shirt that showed off your arm sleeve tattoo on your left arm, she was practically drooling. You looked hot as fuck. 
“Hey guys, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Y/N”
“I’m Tara,” she quickly replied, seeing Mindy and Anika grinning at each other with a knowing look from her peripheral vision. 
You gave a smile. You looked cute. You had that cute ass dimples no one could ever resist, Tara thought. You might be the death of her. 
The group settled down and decided to watch a movie, you sat the end of the couch while waiting for the movie to start. Mindy, being an (alleged) amazing wingman she is, literally forced Tara into sitting beside you by pushing her. She sat on the couch with a sigh, annoyed at Mindy’s antics and rolled her eyes. Sam was just giggling at the other side of the couch. 
As much as Sam didn’t trust you, she was glad that Tara could act like a normal teenager again. After multiple therapy sessions, she gave Tara a little bit of more freedom and let her make her own decisions, even if it’s distasteful to her. That doesn’t mean she wouldn’t tase someone in the balls again, though. 
You mistakenly thought the sigh Tara gave out was because she had to sit beside you. You had known about what happened to their group from Chad, after he poured his heart out when he was blackout drunk. You understood the group of friends can be lack trust and be suspicious of new people. 
“Sorry, did you want to sit with someone else? I can sit on the floor if you want-“
“No! I mean it’s okay, I don’t mind sitting with you,” Tara replied with a heavy tint on her cheeks, embarrassed at her sudden reaction. 
Throughout the movie, you were munching on your pizza, oblivious to the amount of times Tara took glances at you while trying to think of topics to create a conversation with you. 
“So..How do you find the movie?” Tara questioned you, trying to get to know you a little bit better. 
“It’s alright, though I prefer other scary movies. I definitely do have favourites.”
“Oh, what’s your favourite horror film?”
“I absolutely love The Babadook, it’s amazing because I..” Any words that you uttered out of that beautiful mouth of yours disappeared. The universe must be sending a sign, she needs you badly. There’s no way Chad’s super cute, hot roommate would coincidentally like The Babadook, Tara thought 
“Blah, blah, blah, proper name, place name, backstory stuff..” was all she could hear. 
You on the other hand, only saw Tara staring at you blankly while she had her own inner turmoil and crisis.
“Uh, Tara..? You alright there?” you chuckled awkwardly.
“What? Oh, yeah sorry. I love The Babadook too! What’s your favourite scene?” Tara smoothly taught of a way to continue the conversation, silently cheering for herself. 
It took you both 2 horror films and a shared bag of popcorn to exchange numbers. Tara was secretly cheering in ecstasy of course. She would’ve jumped around and start dancing if she could. It was already close to midnight, and Sam decided that they should go back home before it’s too late to catch the last train.  Tara was devastated, she wished that she could’ve spent more time with you. 
“Soo, I’ll see you next time then? It was nice seeing you.” You initiated a conversation, seeing that Tara was pouting at Sam while trying to convince her into staying a little while longer
“Y-Yeah, see you. We should continue our horror fanatic activities again,” She chuckled, trying to prolong the moment. You nodded your head, giving her a soft smile while leading her, Sam, and the couple out of the apartment, since Chad was knocked out and asleep.
You took your last goodbyes with the group, even giving Sam a small wave, before closing the door. 
In the elevator, all Anika, Mindy and even Sam did was tease her on how red and lovestruck she looked. She didn’t pay any mind to it, all she could ever think of was you. 
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artanogon · 11 days ago
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the real question is dpdr or did . and who
giving your favorite character a dissociative disorder is free and easy
#wickin is already SO dissociative hes heavily dpdr coded#the only problem is he also has like Visceral violent flashbacks that are intensely self destructive that dont really line up with perpetua#disconnect from reality#so probably not my boy. though he is heavily dissociative. also i think giving him did at least in the way i experience it wouldnt be#consistent with the storyline ive given him and the way ive played him#hmm... maybe he has alter-ish states of self going on#he would love ifs therapy i think#might consider less traditional did alters and more fucky stages of self#my god. do i need to make a projection fic about wickin doing ifs therapy#i might. sob#ember however... gripping her. get dpdred girl. this is about to fundamentally alter the way i play her#im thinking like Intense complex ptsd bordering a bit on bpd type symptoms for her anyways. her horrible nasty codependent relationship#with dante already has some fucky attachment undertones#idk. i dont htink i have bpd at all but some of my cptsd symptoms can look very similar. i think it would#very easily be misdiagnosed by a psychiatrist. its definitely not what i have. but the unstable sense of self combo whammy#from did and cptsd is a hellfuck that can make my relationships and self worth go out the window from time to time#its different but similar. idk thats a whole different topic for private reflection#anyways. i dont think ember is bpd shes too avoidant like me#but she has some nasty identity issues i think and they manifest in her both desperate need for close relationships and fear of them#and i also dont think shes felt anything since 15 years old#breaking out of that fog due to events of canon is going to fuck her up#processing your own issues through your characters is free#so teehee#here i goooo
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st4rbwrry · 8 months ago
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━━ 𝑘𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚 .ᐟ satoru + getou.
warnings 𑄽𑄺 2.9k. fem chubby reader, lowercase intended, she/her pronouns, black coded, threesome but getou’s our boyfie so boyfriend’s best friend trope!, anal + vaginal penetration, oral [ f ], handjob, a few lil gay moments teehee, getou is kinda insecure, satoru takes most of the lead, spitting, choking, check ins, impact play, praising, condom use, cockwarming, creampie, potential polyamory?, minors aren’t welcomed!
━━━ ꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎’𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠 .ᐟ ꒱ ; dedicated to my bestie bc she harassed me about a getou + gojo fic since i never continued impure :/ <3 @thecoochiefairy
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their postures are statue-like once you step foot out of the bathroom, both men eyeing you from head to toe, getou instantly standing to his feet with clammy hands he rested on his hips. satoru remained seated, legs spread as he groaned and pulled at his soft snow hair. they were lost for words. while they were busy finding a bar to grab a drink at the mall, you wandered off in search of a lingerie set, finding a simple pearl white babydoll, sheer mesh bodice, an open flyaway back, and matching panty set. it made you feel pretty, so you wore it for them.
their silence made your heart race nervously, playing with the fabric as your eyes flicker between the two faces, waiting for a response.
"you like it?" your voice is quiet as a mouse.
"i love it," they say in unison. getou blinks, forgetting he was here, honestly.
"you're fuckin' gorgeous, baby," satoru finally stands, being the first one to walk towards you, cupping the side of your face in his palm. you grow hot immediately. "stunning."
even though you've never had the slightest sexual encounter with satoru, the way he had your mind running wild with imagination was near insanity. of course, it was wrong to think of another man while clearly in a committed relationship. but, it was impossible when he was always around you. making jokes here and there about clearly wanting to fuck you. the infatuation was clear as day. you hated your attraction to him. that's why you had to do this, why you wanted it. both of them at once. your feelings were mutual towards them equally, and the sexual tension would never ease unless this happened. plus, it was your birthday. and as your gift, you asked getou for this one thing. your puppy dog eyes making him unable to object.
"give me your hands," you hold out both of yours, getou swallowing and coming forward to gently clasp your small hand, satoru doing the same before you smile and turn, the men stumbling behind you with their eyes on your ass, guiding them towards the bedroom.
a rush of confidence sparks through you now. you've been wanting this for so long, so it's only right that you show them. closing the door behind them, they stare ahead, looking down to see your fingers delicately skid across their abdomens, lifting their shirts and moaning at the abs on both of their bodies. they were toned, buff in the arms but nothing steroid-like. deeply cut v-lines and slim waists. you nearly drool from the feel, desperate to clutch their waists as they fucked you hard without a care.
"baby," it's clear you're referring to getou by the purr in your voice, tits pressed firmly against his side as he looks down at you with a clench of his jaw.
"mhm?" is how he responds, trying his best to remain complacent.
"take control," you bat your lashes. "it's your pussy before his."
getou groans, satoru's grin is sadistic, finding himself clasping your wrist, taking your attention from your boyfriend and burning his eyes in your own, tugging you near him. he caresses your face admirably, humming.
"aren't you obedient," satoru's palm slaps against the side of your cheek as he chuckles, and to getou's point of view, it's absurdly violent. you've never felt this spark before, the action making your heart thump with excitement. the look on your boyfriend's face was pure anger, that deadpanned expression only meaning that he was ready to snap. satoru tries to do it again, but is stopped as soon as getou catches his wrist forcefully.
"are you asking to die?" getou seethes, satoru only raising a brow, no remorse.
"you're really blind, huh?" satoru laughs, side-eyeing you. "she likes it. don't tell me your sex life is that dull."
getou inhales, releasing his wrist once you touch the side of his face reassuringly, smiling hazily. "i like it, it's okay."
he's stuck. not sure how to respond nor react. there's so much more he has to know about you. teach himself about. even though it's only been four months into your relationship, he feels like a stranger, uneducated about your sexual desires. now he's concerned if he pleasures you enough or not. maybe this was a lesson. maybe he should let satoru do most of the work and observe while still being present. watch your reactions to things he says or does that rile you up. there was nothing wrong with being taught.
"tell me what you want," getou clenches his jaw, grabbing the back of your head and tugging softly. getou was extremely soft and caring during sex, and although you were fond of it, sometimes you wanted him to be the opposite. "i'll give you anything. just say it."
warmth fills your chest, so entranced by his sweetness. your eyes lock with satoru's, "wanna ride his face."
satoru tongues his inner cheek, looking you up and down once more. " 'course you do."
getou has his eyes on you the entire time, those big eyes of yours wide with anticipation. "can i?”
"don't ask me with that innocent tone. you're anything but," getou grunts, taking you back by his side possessively. "come sit on me."
you follow like a lost puppy, getou taking his seat on the middle of the bed, one leg propped up as you crawl on your hands and knees to him, your face in his hands he caressed gently with his thumbs, kissing you and admiring you a while longer. satoru stands behind you, tilting his head to the side to capture a picture of the cute set on your body, his hands on your ass he brings back to rub the outline of his jean-clad cock against, groaning.
"fuck, you're really soft," his hand gropes your ass hard and it makes you whine, getou watching as you bite your lip and brush back against satoru who's dry humping you through the mesh thong you wore. "my dick is so fuckin' hard right now."
you swear your clits pulsating like a goddamn vibrator, moaning into getou's mouth after he kisses you, his eyes dark and pointed viciously in satoru's way, shoving his tongue in your mouth, barely paying you attention. he's watching satoru, making sure he takes care of you, doesn't hurt you. because if he did, he'd have to hurt him. satoru chuckles from the quiet obvious threat, molding your flesh in his rough palms. you're arching your back like a cat, panting in your boyfriend's mouth who's aware of your body sensitivity. the smallest touches leaving you feral. a cool breeze of air hits your soaked core as satoru pulls your panties to your knees, raising them so they're off fully, needing access to every region.
"fuck, that's a nice ass pussy," satoru grins, knitting his dark brows together, crystal blue eyes darting between getou and your weeping cunt. you yelp when two of his fingers brush over your clit, sliding it up to your core he taps a few times and hums. then he's bringing his fingers to his nose, liking the smell before he's sucking them off. "damn, this really all yours?"
getou rolls his eyes after satoru whistles, not waiting for him to say anything, which he doesn't, blocking him out anyways. it's all about you. he wants you and he's gonna stay focused on that. he's lowering to his knees on the ground, positioning your thighs so they're spread wider, barely preparing you before he's literally kissing at your cunt with tongue, like full on making out with it. you shudder instantly, mouth dropping and gripping at getou's thigh as satoru grunts and slurps up your juices, thrusting those same fingers into you. your eyes widen partially when his tongue trails up to your puckering hole, spitting, then kissing it up, bobbing his head up and down the entirety of you.
"ooo, my god. . ." you gasp, grinding back against his face, blindly tugging at the waistband of getou's jeans, getou studying you as your face turns in ecstasy, fumbling with your hands as you pull out his cock, whimpering as you spit into your small hand before wrapping it around to pump. getou clenches his jaw, placing his hand over yours to stoke it together, his bubblegum lips pouty as he kisses you hard, swallowing your moans.
"like fuckin' candy," satoru kisses your clit hard, lips wet before he's sucking on it hard, tongue moving everywhere, skidding over your thighs as he laps you up with a deep ‘fuck’, jaw moving side to side and his hand spanking your ass slow like he's drunk, the impact hard. it's a pattern, his spews of fuck become monotonous the more he eats at it.
fuck. spank, then moved his mouth. fuck. spank, then applies more pressure with his tongue. fuck. spanks you ten times harder, then growls. it was driving you mad, unable to stop shifting your ass.
"he's not gonna stop until you cum," getou says, now holding your throat in his hand, your face contorted as you whine.
"not once," satoru counters, getou looking over your shoulder with a brow raised, eyes trailing back to yours without disagreement.
"more than once."
"m'almost there," you cry, his mouth all too good, never reaching an orgasm this quickly.
"are you?" getou hums tauntingly, running the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip. you nod, your breath hitching as he bites your lower lip and sucks, blood rushing. you jerk your hand faster, keeping it on the tip like he liked, getou folding easily, hips twitching.
"gonna give it to me?" satoru asks, never ceasing his assault, in love with the way your knees buckle.
"nnn, yea," you chew on your lips, already fucked out. not prepared for what they had in store for you next.
"yeah?" satoru mocks your tone, stuffing his fingers into you and moving to your desired pace. your vision goes static like an old television when you cum, falling forward to rest your cheek on your boyfriend's chest, both the men half stripping throughout your fixation. getou stops you from pulling at his dick, afraid he'll cum too quick. you have that affect on him.
satoru doesn't stop when you cum, he keeps going, more than once, he said. and he meant it. it's worse when getou pulls you up to suck on your neck, tugging at the hardened buds of your nipples , both men touching you at once was filthy, your head buzzing and your mouth nonstop with pornographic sonances. satoru takes his breath when he stands, licking you off his lips as if you were the best fucking dessert he's ever had. while you're left breathless, getou and satoru are pulling off the rest of their clothing, achingly hard they couldn't stand it any longer. you could read them well, especially getou, knowing when he's near done.
getou lays on his back and he pulls you on top of him, your messy face still so adorable. satoru grabs the bottle of lube and two condoms stashed in his drawer before coming back to the bed, brushing the white hair from his face and staring down at you as you turn to look behind yourself, teasing him by grinding your hips midair. satoru snickers, climbing on the bed and resting on his knees. he looks at getou.
"you go first."
your smile is lazy, hugging your man by his neck and cradling your face between it. getou holds out his hand, satoru passing him a condom, the gold packaging being torn with his teeth before he's tossing it aside and sliding it down his cock resting on his stomach.
"lift your hips," getou rasps, hands calloused on either side of your thighs, helping you up till he's sinking you down on it, stretching you good like he always does. you whimper by his ear, clenching your cunt around him once he's fully inside, swaying your ass, belly to belly as you grind and say his favorite word he liked to hear most of all from you; his name.
after satoru's secure, he spreads the lubricant over himself and then some on his fingers he uses to prep you. your cute little hole tensing when the heat from them grazes you, satoru telling you to take a deep breath and relax yourself before he's pressing against the unused entrance. you gasp when he managed to get them in, carefully thrusting past his knuckles. his fingers were as long as getou's. getou tries not to lose it, your pussy warming his cock with little to no movement. satoru continues to prep you for two more minutes, wanting to make sure he eases the discomfort just a bit.
"satoru," you whimper his name, giving him permission to take his turn.
it's a clear signal, and he doesn't waste time, towering over you and pinning down your lower back to arch you a little more. getou soothes you by caressing the sides of your legs, as well as smoothing them over your back. satoru aligns his reddened cockhead to your hole, kissing up your back as he gently pushes into you, inch by inch. the unknown stretch burns, getou turning his head to whisper comforting words to keep your mind off the pain, lifting his hips to fuck into you. the mixture of pain and pleasure has you clawing at his shoulders.
halfway in, satoru decides to bring you up, clutching your chin and getting his turn to taste your lips, sliding, slowly, deeper inside the longer his mouth moved with yours, getou observing you both.
"it's good? you're good?" satoru says in between breaths, hips so close to touching your ass.
"m'good. move, please."
it's enough to make both men move in sync, satoru biting at your neck with his face scrunched up, eyeing getou beneath you. the pain subsides, and all you feel are the tingles in the pit of your stomach, dragging out your moans as they both pounded into you, satoru finally getting deep like he wanted since you relaxed more.
"jesus, fuck . . . mmm," for some reason, the erotic expression on satoru's face makes getou blush, biting his lip as he watches the two of you lose yourselves. how you scratch at his shoulder and the elicit eye roll satoru does. getou never thought he'd feel like this, or like seeing you fuck another man so much.
"you look pretty as fuck taking both of us," getou grunts, smacking at your tits and you keen in shock. satoru must be getting to him now. you scream as the two men fuck you like they'd lost their sanity, gushing around getou's cock while satoru aggressively knocks his dick into you, both following each other's rhythms for you. your skin clashing, pouncing back on them.
"shit," getou whimpers, hips stuttering as he cums inside his condom, chest heaving erratically. you rush your hand over his hair, tugging and riding them still. satoru has his arm around your neck now, slamming his hips against your ass which makes you let go of getou, holding onto his forearm as your tongue lolls out and satoru switches positions.
you're lifted off getou, satoru tossing his condom off to slide into your sluice cunt, groaning and closing his eyes from the new feeling.
"cum inside me," it has getou stunned since you've never said that once, deathly afraid of the idea of pregnancy. maybe you gained a breeding kink overnight. he wonders what videos you researched prior to this that sparked this sudden fantasy to be dominated by two men, two roommates, two new best friends.
"was doing that anyways," he licks the shell of your ear with a malicious cackle. "bet you'd let me fuck you raw every day if it meant I'd get to fill you up."
"yess, baby," you weep, out of your mind entirely.
"baby?" satoru whistles, glaring at getou who only blinked. what's up with you? were you under his spell or something? "i like that. you tryna' make one with me?"
"get smacked," getou threatens.
satoru only grins, grabbing your chin and pressing his nose to your cheek, keeping his eyes on getou. "don't wanna be a daddy with me? it'd be fun. I'll push the stroller and you hold her hand so she doesn't trip with the other kid in her belly."
"cut it," getou seethes.
"you're no fun," satoru pouts, still fucking you back on his dick like it's nothing, your head spinning. his attentions back on you. "say it one more time for me."
"baby," you slur, swallowing the extra saliva built up in your mouth from drooling, giggling when he groans in approval.
"good fuckin' girl," satoru hisses, yanking you back hard, like some rag doll, your screams softening the longer he prolonged, balls slapping against your sticky clit and your tits bouncing so cutely in your babydoll set.
you slap your hands on getou's torso once you cum for your third time, tone drowning out by satoru's who growls and paints your tight walls white, your legs frantically twitching as you fall forward, getou swallowing, endlessly fascinated by you as he rubs you to cool you down.
"wanna watch it drip," satoru keens, raising your ass and holding the dip of your spine down, licking his lips as he watches the way his cum glides from you. "damn, i think it's my birthday, honestly."
you're spent, still shaky and barely having air left in your lungs. satoru leans over you, kisses your cheek with a loud 'muah!' before doing the same to getou, only he kisses him on the lips.
"don't kiss me, asshole!" getou splutters, palm over satoru's face as he shoved him away. you giggle weakly into your boyfriend's chest, reaching behind yourself to keep satoru pressed to your back for warmth, the three of you snuggled up comfortably.
“thank you babe,” you smile, elated.
“you’re welcome, baby,” they say in unison.
getou rolls his eyes, a petty grunt released. “she’s not talking to you.”
“s’okay, her pussy did,” satoru cackles, kissing your cheek with tongue to piss the black-haired man off even further. he remains silent. this time.
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© 𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖑𝖊. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life ♡
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chocosvt · 5 months ago
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HER | teaser.
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✧✎ synopsis: wonwoo, a heartbroken and burnt out writer nearing the end of his math degree, wants nothing to do with the seemingly perfect, intimidating girl who has everyone under her thumb. you. unfortunately, his literary talent has got him shoved him between a rock and a hard place when you want to write a book and require his expertise. you two are the furthest from compatible. wonwoo can’t see this going well. at all.
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pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader teaser word count: 1.4k actual word count: 140k (yes, u read that correctly) genres/tropes: writer!wonwoo, university!au, plug!vernon + boyfriend!mingyu as prominent side characters, SLOWBURN (i am not fucking around this is my slowest burn yet), relationship drama, soul searching, strong angst/hurt (i’m coming for the jugular), comfort, romance, smut, a smoothie of every emotion on earth.
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(!) warnings for the full fic: drug use (weed, coke, ecstasy), wonwoo has anxiety + anxiety attacks + fairly dark thoughts, prescribed medication, gambling, intense language, infidelity, throwing up.
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✧✎ a/n: as i descend to one knee and cup my hands together at your mercy, i offer a tidbit to the wonwoo fic i have finally completed after two years (lol). i know i ALWAYS say this, but i truly wasn't expecting the fic to be THIS FUCKING LONG! thankfully, i planned it well and although i lost momentum countless times (nervously side eyes the approximate & several 5 month breaks i took in between), my dedication to seeing the characters through & "completing" their growth was smth that i could not leave behind!
not having posted a fic for two years is prob a little much :0 so hopefully the length of this makes up for it (?) usually my writing is just teehee silly little romance agonizing slowburn surface level dilemmas of the self BUT THIS ONE HAS A LITTLE KICK!
so read it if you want! don't read it if you don't want!
hearts & flowers, xoxoxo (me :*)
UPDATE: read the first part here!
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—MARCH 19TH.
“I have a relatively big favour to ask of you.”
 No. Wonwoo didn’t want anything to do with favours.
The fact that Seokmin had actively picked out his presence in the coffee shop like he was some shiny contortion of plastic had actually offended Wonwoo. He came here for two things: to not be bothered, which his friend knew, and to work on the book he was halfway through typing and had been halfway through typing for the past six months. Call it writer’s block, or an inspiration drought, or an absolutely depressing lack of drive—it had been hanging over the writer with an annoying persistence and it seemed that no number of lemony scones or cold coffees were going to make it vanish.
“Uh, Wonwoo?”
“Sorry… what?” He forced his gaze to shift from the blank page on his laptop to Seokmin’s apologetic, softly expressional face, slightly flushed from his time outdoors in the chilled March weather.
“I was just wondering if you’d be up for a favour—a pretty big one—and I know this is your special creativity spot, but she’s been like, breathing down my neck about it and I can’t put it off again.”
“Whose been breathing down your neck?”
At first, Seokmin didn’t say a word, or even make a sound. His lips twitched for a moment, but then he pressed them together and his chest visibly sucked in with a breath. God, Wonwoo hated the suspense and he hated Seokmin for interrupting him when he had been so stupidly close to putting a sentence down that he probably would have back-spaced in frustration a minute later.  
“Y’know…” he trailed off, “Her.”
Her.
No, not her, you.
But most people—if not everyone—referred to you by an alias that had seemed to stick so well the majority believed it actually was your name. When people said her they meant Her, and so in a confusing mess of finger-pointing they really meant you. Come to think of it, Wonwoo had no idea where the nickname even came from or who gave it to you or what it even meant.
And he was perfectly fine with never knowing.
“What?” Wonwoo deadpanned. “What on earth could she want to do with me? She doesn’t even know me.” He slid down in his chair, fingers pulling at his circle-lensed glasses so they tilted uncomfortably across his nose bridge. “Or, is this a joke?”
“Oh—no! Absolutely not!” His friend was insistent on proclaiming, vigorously shaking his head. “I’m being serious.”
“Why don’t I believe you then?”
“Okay, well, if you let me explain everything, it’ll all make sense. I said I know someone who writes really well—”
“Meaning me?”
“Yes, meaning you. And the only reason that was even brought up is because she wants to write a book.”
Wonwoo couldn’t help it. He laughed—a very short, disbelieving laugh that flashed a transient smile to his face as he readjusted his crooked glasses. You were the last person he would ever envision wanting to write a book. He then navigated the trackpad on his laptop, deciding to close the document simply titled, 01, that harboured the fleet of pages to his own current work in progress.
“Yeah,” Wonwoo disregarded, “sounds like bullshit.”
“I’m telling you the truth!” Seokmin exclaimed, gripping onto the metal back of the café chair like he was squeezing someone’s taunt shoulders. “She won’t tell me about what, okay? Just that she’s been thinking the idea for a while now. It’s not like I didn’t try to get details. But she refused—said the only person who can know is whoever’s going to help her. Look, y’have to understand, she was pestering me about it nonstop. And you’re my only writer friend!”
“Well, you’re about to have none.” He answered, reaching for his coffee cup but stopping it just short of his lips. “How serious is she about this, anyway?” Wonwoo sighed. “Do you know how much fucking time you need to dedicate to writing a book?”
He stomached a slow, somewhat grimacing sip as he tasted the coffee’s coldness, meanwhile Seokmin swallowed heavily, and at last pulled out the chair he’d been white-knuckling to take a seat.
“Yes, I’m aware it takes time. I know that. And she is serious or else I wouldn’t be here, bothering you. She takes everything seriously.” The boy began unbuttoning his sleek black jacket. “Really, who knows what’ll happen? Maybe you’ll meet her once and she’ll decide she can’t stand you, and then you’re off the hook for life.”
“Yeah, well have you ever considered what might happen if I can’t stand her? Are my feelings even being considered? Minutely?”
“Minutely, they are being considered.”
“Liar.”
It wasn’t that Wonwoo disliked you.
In actuality, you scared him more than anything. But to be associated with you was to be drawn into your life and caught like a firefly in a glass jelly jar. The proof was right in front of him—to Wonwoo’s eyes, Seokmin was basically your little mailman that scrambled around in hectic nature to do your bidding, because most tasks apparently weren’t worth the time or effort.
“I can’t believe you’re trying to rope me into this. You know I can hardly write my own shit, right?” Wonwoo said bitterly, wishing it was the opposite, “my mind is a desolate, blank canvas of fuck-all and if she thinks I’m writing it then she needs a reality check.”
“No, no—of course you won’t write it!” Seokmin reassured him with his big, opalescent smile. “Really, you’re just giving tips, maybe guiding her process, helping with the planning… you know, this could be facilitated so much easier if you spoke to Her yourself!”
“So, my nightmare?” Wonwoo huffed, shaking his leg.
In an instant, Seokmin had whipped out his phone, tapping around the screen quickly using his thin pointer finger.
“I’m just going to pull up her schedule. It’s always pretty packed, but more into the summer break, it thins out a little. “
Wonwoo exhaled, staring off into the warm, afternoon sunlight that hailed in through the windows, striking all the shimmering flecks and pieces of dust afloat in the café air. When he breathed in again, he could smell the luxurious coffees brewing in their rich and distinctive notes. It was such a beautiful day—still chilly as the snow outdoors began to thaw—but pleasant nonetheless.
“This is such a fucking waste.”
And Wonwoo spent it being miserable.
“No, it’ll be useful. Trust.” Seokmin chirped.
“You’re trying to dip me in your optimism gloss again.”
His friend smiled affectionately, tilting his head.
“This will be good. You’ve been a hermit since I’ve known you.”
“Yeah,” Wonwoo scoffed, “so you think it’s a good idea to shove me with the person I relate to least on the entire planet?”
“Really? The least? So, what you’re saying is, you relate more to serial killers? Or animal abusers? Or like, literal fasc—”
“Stop.”
“You want to do this. I can see it in your eyes. I’ll set you up.”
A part of Wonwoo knew there might be no wriggling out of the situation, especially with Seokmin sitting across from him, characteristically eager and brightly pushy as always, like a goddamn salesman. For now, it could be easier to let himself get cuffed.
“Can I at least have some time to think it over?”
“Uh… well… the thing is… the thing with that is—”
“You’ve cornered me?”
“I wouldn’t word it like that.”
“… Okay.” Wonwoo removed his glasses, shoved his knuckles tender but deep into his eye sockets, massaging through flashes of white as he came to accept a fate he didn’t know even existed in his astrology. “Just, I don’t know—fuck—schedule me in wherever.”
“Ha! It doesn’t exactly work like that.”
“I really don’t give a damn how it works, Seokmin.”
“Right,” his friend laughed nervously, “I promise that I’ll get back to you pronto. Sorry for the disturbance. And, uh, good luck.”
 “With what part?” Wonwoo grumbled, fixing his spectacles back on to clarify Seokmin’s sympathetic face, the light bouncing off his head of brassy hair like a disco ball. “My incapability to write a goddamn thing or the fact I have to help your perfectionist friend who’s probably going to chew me up and spit me out?”
 “Both parts.” Seokmin grinned. “It can only go up from here.”
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✧✎ a/n: tada!
this is the introductory scene! i think i've read it so many times that i could probably recite it from memory at this point ;_; anyway! as i mentioned, i know that it's been a hot minute since i last uploaded any scenarios. but one way or another this monster is getting posted! i did NOT have this lurking on my poor tired macbook causing it to overheat and sputter and spew FOR NOTHING!!
i swear that i don't plan for my works to get this goddamn long. before i hardly planned at all. maybe now i plan too much? i guess i have yet to find a happy medium!! but again, i do hope the size of the fic makes up for all that missed time :_( life has been ruff. but this fic was there as a handy distraction mechanism (when i prob should have been facing reality fhwejfhwk) so i guess it's been a double-edged sword!
also just want to preface that the reader goes by an alias throughout the fic. i'm not sure if this is like... a very huge or popular concept nowadays? so if it hits your reading ear a bit weird at first i apologize! but i swear it has purpose!! *chekhovs rule* *winkwink*
ANYWAY! no more rambling!
i'm pondering the idea of adding a taglist for those who are interested, just as i did with honey boy :3 so if that tickles ur fancy then feel free to each out!
BUT PLZ HEED THE FOLLOWING:
the fic in its entirety will be split across 6 parts
the word count of each part ranges from 22-24k!
i do not YET have a set posting schedule, simply bc i am unsure of how long it will take ppl to get through each part
(so that would be smth i'd have to gauge afterward)
REVISIT THE WARNINGS!!
i will not be flagging mature/nsfw/triggering scenes throughout the fic as the fic itself already has a heavy nature to it
so pls read the warnings!
if there's any additional questions i encourage u to swing by :3
*deep breath*
THANK YOU!!!!!
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