#this semester hit me like a TRUCK

[taitavva]

when im in a worst roommate ever competition & my opponent is joker persona 5 royal 🙄

[sofipitch]

My newest fragrance inspired by Interview with the Vampire: Armand

Musky and seductive, meant to match the hypnotic allure of the vampire Armand

🩸Notes: Civet, amber, ylang-ylang, pink peppercorns

I also have scents inspired by Louis, Lestat and Claudia on my Etsy shop

[hunsa-jars]

Dread be dreading

[astral-catastrophe]

me and the generic extra strong Tylenol and the pure rage in my system

[canibalistic-brownie]

.

[pervertwhore]

i have yet to make an academic comeback and my last day to turn in all of my work is on the 29th…and…i’m missing basically all my assignments for all of my courses….🥸

[fappellmoan]

um yall… sam’s roommate pulled up to coffee like. um. dressed like this. btw. and their hair is just like. a better fluffier mullet. is this surprising

[ohitslen]

Confession time: I’m just at chapter three of Trigun, the first volume OANSNKW

I meAN, I’ve been meaning to read forward, but I know it’ll leave a gaping hole inside my heart and I need to FUNCTION you know, I have to pull the last push of the semester and Trigun is already occupying too much of my mind, can’t imagine what will happen once I read the manga. So that is that.

[chai-and-cherries]

.

[unstoppable-fish]

So many ideas for fusehound fluff but so little time

[hoshifighting]

seungkwan sporty college fling?? plss 🤭🫦

a/n: first of all— IUSHDIASUHIUNFIABDIASUDIUBFIUHE the fach that he's exactly my type makes me weak on the kneeeeees!! second: WITH THE PICS ALREADY? LOVE YOU! WARNINGS: smut, fluff, med student!reader who's interning in the university's infirmary, handjob, oral (m. receiving)

sporty college fling!seungkwan who's, like, everywhere on campus. if there’s a sport to play, you bet your ass he’s signed up. volleyball, tennis, soccer, basketball, swimming, god, even frisbee if it means he gets to be out there showing off. and, look, it’s not even about the attention—though he loves that, too. he just loves the energy, the cheers from the sidelines, the way he can walk off the field dripping sweat, grinning like he just won the damn lottery.

so when he catches wind that you’re interning in the college infirmary? oh, he’s already scheming. you had no idea he knew you were there, but seungkwan’s been keeping tabs on you ever since that one history class last semester, where he’d sit behind you just to crack dumb jokes and steal your notes when you weren’t looking. he’s been hovering on the edge of your radar ever since, some mix of a friend and a tease that’s always around, always a little too close, always making you laugh even when you’re trying to focus.

so of course, it’s not a coincidence that today he’s on the field, pulling a stunt in the middle of a perfectly normal soccer game. there’s a loud yelp, and before you know it, seungkwan’s got his ass on the ground, clutching his ankle like he’s been hit by a truck. dramatic doesn’t even cover it. a friend tries to help him up, but he waves them off like he’s gotta handle this himself.

“nah, nah, i need a professional,” he says, wincing like he’s in some world-class pain, all while side-eyeing the infirmary building. eventually, the whole team’s staring at him, and the coach—who’s definitely onto him, by the way—just sighs and gestures toward the infirmary.

“alright, go get checked out,” he grumbles, “and don’t make it a habit, boo.”

so in he limps, or, well, mostly fakes limping. you’re organizing the medicine cabinet when you hear him stumble in, and the second you turn around and see him putting on that pitiful, injured expression, you know something’s up.

“oh, my god,” you deadpan, crossing your arms. “what happened this time, seungkwan?”

he sighs, laying it on thick. “soccer injury,” he says, wincing as he hobbles over to sit on the infirmary bed. “took a hard hit. they said only the best in here can take care of me.”

you roll your eyes, grabbing the ice pack and tossing it to him. “you know i can see through this bullshit, right?”

he smirks, barely able to keep up the act as he catches the ice pack and shrugs. “hey, i thought i’d at least get a little sympathy. i could be bleeding out, you know?”

“from your ankle? really?” you quip back, unable to stop the grin forming on your face. he shrugs and presses the ice pack to his ankle, looking around like he’s already scouting out what else he can mess with in here. it’s like he doesn’t even have to try—just exists, and it’s annoying but also kind of cute how he always manages to get away with it.

sporty college fling!seungkwan in those thin-ass shorts that they cling in all the right places, showing off his thick thighs, flexing calves, and the outline that has you looking anywhere but his lap whenever he walks into the infirmary. he’s got that sporty glow, a little sweat-slick, hair sticking to his forehead, flushed cheeks from running around, and that cocky smirk that’s always somewhere between friendly and downright dangerous.

so when you’re shrugging off your white coat, your tank top sticking a bit because the damn AC is broken, you catch him watching. his eyes go half-lidded, looking you up and down like you’re not a damn intern who’s just here to patch him up. he can’t even help it, a tiny little gulp as you reach back, trying to hold his knee steady while you clean up the latest scrape. and you lean over him—just a little closer to get a good angle—but the look on his face is downright sinful. he’s flushed deeper than ever, lips parted, eyes blown out like he’s somewhere far away from just a check-up.

and then you see it. oh, he’s really trying to keep it together, but that bulge is so obvious, so tight against the fabric of his shorts, it’s almost painful just looking at it. he’s shifting in place, his thighs pressing together, his hands gripping the edge of the bed, trying so damn hard to play it cool. trying being the keyword. you glance up, arching an eyebrow, giving him a once-over that has his face going from flushed to wrecked.

“you, uh… need help with anything else?” you murmur, voice dropping a bit, glancing between his lap and his face like it’s the most casual thing in the world.

he damn near chokes on his own breath, a helpless moan slipping out before he can stop it, his hips shifting forward as if he’s waiting for permission. and he spreads his legs wider, scooting to the edge of the bed, that smug smile barely peeking through as he bites his lip, knowing exactly what he’s about to ask for without saying a single word.

when you step forward and slip your hand between his legs, fingers skimming over the fabric, he lets out a broken sigh, tipping his head back with this blissed-out look that makes your heart pound.

sporty college fling!seungkwan whos losing his cool right in front of you, his little fantasy about to come true as you start to pull down those shorts, that look of relief as your hand wraps around him.

he’s biting his lip so hard it’s a wonder he doesn’t draw blood, trying to muffle the whimpers spilling out as you give him a few slow strokes, teasing just enough to make him squirm.

“fuck,” he hisses, pressing his palm tighter against his mouth, eyes wide as he glances toward the door like he’s expecting someone to walk in. you can’t help but chuckle softly; the thought of getting caught makes this whole thing even hotter. the university walls are so thin you can practically hear the whispers in the hallway, and seungkwan's face is a so desperate.

“c’mon, be quiet,” you tease, your voice low as you lean in a bit closer, brushing your thumb over the slick tip of his cock. it’s dripping now, and you can feel the pre-cum pooling in your hand, making it so easy to slide your fingers along his length. he whimpers again, muffling the sound with his hand, and it’s the kind of sweet, desperate noise that makes you want to do this forever.

“i can’t help it,” he whispers, trying to keep his voice down but failing miserably, and you can’t tell if he’s more embarrassed by how loud he is or by the way he’s getting even harder under your touch. you pick up the pace a bit, letting your fingers work him as his breath hitches, eyes rolling back just a little.

he clenches his eyes shut, the way he arches his back, trying to chase the pleasure.. his grip on his mouth tightens, and you can see the strain in his muscles, how he’s fighting against the urge to let it all out.

his gaze drops, catching on your fingers wrapped around him, nails perfectly manicured and glinting as they move, slow at first and then faster, like you’re testing just how much he can take. his eyes flick up, and the sight of your chest, bouncing with each stroke, almost sends him over the edge. it’s the kind of view he could lose himself in—is losing himself in—and he can’t look away, no matter how much he wants to keep his cool.

the slick, wet sound fills the small space, louder than his shaky breaths, louder than the little whimpers he’s trying so hard to hold back. his hips buck up, chasing the friction, and you can see him practically falling apart in your hand, his lip pulled between his teeth as he fights to stay quiet. it’s no use, though; his control is slipping, and he knows it.

“fuck—” he chokes out, voice breaking as his hand clamps over his mouth again, but his eyes stay glued to you, watching every single move you make. he swallows, pupils blown wide, his gaze flicking between your hand and your face. he looks like he’s about to burst any second.

the second your lips wrap around just the tip of his cock, seungkwan’s hands fly to his mouth, but it’s useless. the control he’d tried so hard to keep shatters instantly. a loud, ragged moan escapes, so reckless it could probably be heard down the hall, but he doesn’t care anymore.

“oh, fuck—no, wait, wait,” he gasp-whines, hands gripping the edge of the infirmary bed. his hips buck, but he’s melting under your touch, eyes rolling back as you swirl your tongue just around the head. its like his body’s got a mind of its own now, the pleasure overtaking everything else, every little shudder amplified. the quiet whimpers turn to full-on, desperate moans—he’s way past caring if anyone outside hears.

and then—before he can even manage a warning so you could take your mouth off him—his whole body tightens, and he’s coming, spilling over your tongue, a hot, sudden burst that has him gasping. his hand fly up, fingers digging into his own hair, breathless as he watches

he tries to collect himself. his legs feel weak, like he’s just finished sprinting through campus, but it’s way better than any game high. his legs are trembling, knees wobbling as he hops off the bed, trying to look at least half put-together while he straightens his shorts. but one look at your smirk, and he’s got that shy, red-faced grin back, a little embarrassed.

sporty college fling!seungkwan, who keeps sneaking into the infirmary for a “checkup” every chance he gets, especially after practice, because, according to him, “gotta make sure i’m in top shape, right?”

sporty college fling!seungkwan, who starts showing up with snacks for you after practice—sweaty, still in his shorts and jersey, claiming they’re for you so “you don’t have to eat that vending machine crap all day.”

sporty college fling!seungkwan, who eventually works up the courage to pull you into a storage room between rounds, pushing you against a shelf with that smirk of his, whispering, “you didn’t think i forgot about how good you looked last time, did you?”

sporty college fling!seungkwan, who practically has your schedule memorized by now, showing up at the infirmary right when you’re alone, leaning against the doorframe as he says, “miss me yet?” like he’s not been haunting your thoughts all damn day.

sporty college fling!seungkwan, who starts leaving you little notes in your bag with ridiculous messages, like “come to my game, i need my lucky charm,” with a winking face drawn on it. and when you finally show up, he plays like his life depends on it, catching your eye in the crowd every chance he gets, shooting you that smirk as he sprints down the field.

sporty college fling!seungkwan, who gets bolder every time you’re alone, wrapping his arm around your waist in the empty hallway, backing you against the wall, grinning when you shoot him a look. “don’t act so innocent,” he murmurs, tilting his head down to kiss you until you’re breathless, leaving you flushed and slightly disheveled before slipping away like nothing happened.

sporty college fling!seungkwan, who gives you his hoodie on chilly nights after practice, watching with a satisfied grin as you pull it over your head. he’d even say, “looks better on you, anyway,” then stroll off, pretending not to be thrilled seeing you in his clothes.

sporty college fling!seungkwan, who one day catches you in the library and somehow convinces you to sneak into one of the back study rooms, grinning as he shuts the door and pulls you close, whispering, “been dying to get you alone, you know that?” before pressing his lips to yours, hands sliding up your back as if he’s got nowhere else he’d rather be.

sporty college fling!seungkwan, who gives you a hard time for staying late at the infirmary, texting you, “don’t make me come drag you out myself,” and then showing up anyway. he lingers, leaning against the counter, arms crossed, looking at you with a smug smile and saying, “told you i’d come get you.”

sporty college fling!seungkwan, who finally asks you to stay over after a game, all soft and flushed from the adrenaline, looking at you with those bright, honest eyes. he murmurs, “you know, i don’t really want this to just be a fling,” his hand slipping into yours.

[taitavva]

WHY WON’T THE CAGED BIRD SING?

(the caged bird sings with a fearful trill of things unknown but longed for still—

for the caged bird sings of freedom)

[inknopewetrust]

𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐅𝐥𝐲

Summary: Tyler’s always wanted to show you something he loved—it just took some bad weather for it to appear. [Tyler Owens x Reader] [WC:2.6k}

Warnings: language, college-aged Tyler & reader, fluff, romance, this is a comedy? Idk folks. No smut though—sry :/. Just good ole fashion kissin’ in the rain. And what if I said this story was my real life experience, then what?

Quick Links: Masterlist [including other twisters fics]

“Where are we going?”

The tires of the truck were clunking along the rocky path to… well, nowhere. Thick trees surrounded you; the sun barely peeking through them as it began to decline in the sky and yet the truck kept tumbling along.

Shit. You thought for a brief moment as he didn’t reply. He might murder me.

“I told you,” his voice rang through your mind like a pinball machine. “It’s a surprise.”

“What if I said I didn’t like surprises?”

Tyler glanced at you as the truck hit a rough patch. Your hand was white-knuckling the grab handle above the window and your face was torn up in concern for the locale.

“I’d say, ‘honey’,” he put a hand on your clothed thigh. “I ain’t gonna murder you.”

“Well now that makes me think you are gonna murder me.”

Tyler laughed, squeezing your thigh joyously.

He was a maniac—Tyler Owens.

But he was also many things you did not know of yet. The first time you laid eyes on him was around eight months back when he walked in two minutes before the chemistry lecture. Every seat in the room was nearly filled except for the lone seat on the inside of the lecture hall beside you.

And when he sat there, you couldn’t focus on one goddamn thing.

It was silly—being twenty-one and having a crush on a guy in your science class. You weren’t in high school anymore but you sure as hell felt like it. When he asked for an eraser, you were too eager to provide it. One day he forgot his computer so he asked for some paper in the notebook you elected to use.

Each day you’d arrive a minute earlier than before with a childish hope that he would too and you’d be able to talk to him, learn about him. You weren’t in the same lab section so it was growing increasingly difficult to manifest a semblance of potential when it only occurred twice a week for an hour and fifteen minutes.

Fuck college schedules, is what you had concluded when he wouldn’t show up twenty minutes early to class.

Yet fate had a funny way of dictating what happens when.

Three months into class, your roommate suggested getting out and heading to a frat party one Saturday night and it shouldn’t have been a surprise to see him there. And out of some kindness, he went out of his way to say hi to his “lecture buddy” who’d helped him in times of need.

Every class that followed grew something in you. He came early to lecture to talk to you, joking about anything but the subject and going on and on about what he wanted to do when he graduated. His smile was contagious, as with his laugh. Bellowing and loud; Tyler Owens was everyone’s friend and everyone’s crush and you happened to be lucky enough to sit beside him until it was all over.

The semester ended and your interactions with Tyler ceased.

And it made you feel a little crazy for feeling down and out about your luck. Your roommates and friends tried everything to get you on the market: going to parties, joining strange clubs, playing trivia at the bar on Wednesday nights but nothing.

It was all nothing until something caught your eye.

You saw a flier for a meteorology seminar with a guest speaker from your local news. The premise wasn’t overly exciting for any one student at the university but for you, it was interesting enough to attend on a vacant Tuesday evening.

Like fate had promised before, it dealt you a winning hand.

Tyler spotted you as you walked through the door and waved you down. In your dumps, you forgot to think his attendance was a possibility even after he mentioned time and time again that he’d love to be on television, that he’d die to help people protect themselves.

So when he got ready to leave after the lecture, you weren’t going to die without facing a fear. You had to protect yourself from another six weeks of imaginary mourning and asked for his number.

And six weeks later you concluded he was going to murder you in some remote location in the plains of Arkansas.

“I’m not gonna murder you, alright?” He chuckled. His eyes were illuminated with a mischievous glow you couldn’t escape. You saw his eyes in dreams and knew you’d never want to imagine a day without them.

Fuck, you thought. It was way too early to be thinking of that.

“Then tell me!” You looked over at him with reason. “This road is so shitty I can’t imagine what’s on the other end!”

“Paradise, baby!” He smiled. “When I was a kid, my pops used to take me and my brother down here to go fishing. It’s this picnic area that I think,” he glanced at you with raised eyebrows, “no one else knows about. So don’t go runnin’ and tellin all them about this, ok?”

Oh.

It was personal.

“I won’t,” you promised.

“When my grandpa died I was,” he thought back on it as if it were long ago. “Nine and I came here with my mom and just sat. We stared out at the water and watched the ducks and the birds fly over until the sun went down. This was his spot and he passed it on to me.”

You suddenly felt an urge of regret pass over you as the comments from before soured.

“Tyler,” you said solemnly. “I didn’t—“

He brushed the nonverbal apology away.

“It’s alright,” he reassured. “There are plenty of reasons why you could have felt that way.”

It was heartwarming that Tyler didn’t dismiss your fears. There were so many guys, barely men, who would have called you crazy for a lot less. Tyler never made you feel that way.

Being with him was like chasing a high of the greatest strengths. Everything he did revolved around his ability to be free and willing to do what scared him the most and it was enchanting.

You could feel the sparks hit your heart.

“I’ve never taken anyone there before.”

“No?”

“You’d be the first.”

The two of you let that sit in the air as the road became more suitable for driving. The smoothness was welcome as his admission settled between you.

The first. He thought you special enough to be the first person to witness this place. You could have been ten feet tall at that moment. Never had anyone ever made you feel so special.

As the roads improved, the clearings of trees and bushes began to open up to a wider area with a paved lot on a taller hill.

It was beautiful.

Only the fairy tales could conjure a place like that. Billowing pines and lush greens on the bank of a river cut off by a large damn. The rushing water filled your ears amidst the squawking of wildlife uninterrupted by human activity.

It was so peaceful, charming.

The sun’s orange rays twinkled down onto the water and made it sparkle. Flowers in bloom, the buzzing of cicadas at the arrival of a hot and early spring warmed your cheeks as Tyler put the truck into park.

He watched you take in your surroundings of pure nature. A slight awe in your eyes, shallow breath at the sights. You were a vision in his favorite place.

“I thought we could have dinner here,” he tipped his head to the back seat where he had plastic Walmart bags full of food, unprepared and prepared for whatever fit your fancy. “And then, if we’re lucky, maybe it will rain.”

“Rain?” You turned to meet his eyes and they crinkled at the sides. Endearing, charming—just like this place.

Tyler hummed. “You mean to say you’ve never heard of rain?”

His words quickly became a joke. You rolled your eyes, hitting his chest with the back of your hand. It was solid under your touch and you were reminded that he was real. It wasn’t a fairytale and you were very much living it.

“Ha-ha,” you replied dryly.

“I’ll keep that one as a surprise.”

“I checked the weather before we left and,” you pointed to the sky. “No rain.”

Tyler unbuckled himself and opened his door.

“They just don’t see what I do.”

“And what’s that?” You asked him but he shut the door, moving to the backseat to take out the bags of items he procured, and then as ever the gentleman, opened your own door.

“Magic.”

You laughed but he was being serious. His eyes still gleamed with the same sly nature he was born with, but his touch was comfort. Hands carefully guiding you to a spot that he had meticulously planned out—even if this appeared to be a spur of the moment outing for you.

Everything was planned. Tyler wasn’t going to take just anyone to this spot. He’d be a fool to lie and say he hadn’t spoken to his mother about his plans just to hear her perspective on whether it was creepy, brilliant, or just plain sad.

However, he carried on to face his fears of bringing someone he liked to a place near-sacred to him. Tyler wasn’t a fool of love, he just hadn’t found anyone worth sharing these bits of him. And he also didn’t expect the feeling to come about so quickly.

Those fears he let simmer never truly came about in the reality he lived.

You were smitten. Absolutely fallen into this little spot in this tiny corner of the world with a man who was opening up before you. Tyler made the puzzle pieces of a perfect date fit together wonderfully.

The food, the drinks, the atmosphere—he hit an apex of the paragon of “partner,” “boyfriend,” or “lover.”

And you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face as the sun began to truly fade.

You took a sip of your drink, coming down from a high of laughter at a story Tyler shared at his brother’s detriment. The sky was a shimmering shade of reds and deepening blues now; orange melting away for the sake of night.

“No rain,” you pointed out. He shrugged his shoulders, moving from a lounging position on the worn blanket to a lying one. His arms perched behind his head.

Tyler stared at the stars beginning to form.

He could see the shapes of the clouds, the movement quickening and the air cooling. It was as special as this place, his talent for finding the storms. Whether they brew inside or out, he found them and chased them with a passion—unrelenting and fierce. He sought the thrill.

“The night’s not over yet,” he said coolly. “Don’t count me out.”

“I’m not counting you out,” you defended, moving scraps of discarded food away from you to lay next to him. You shuffled to get comfortable in his vicinity.

“How often do you stargaze?” Tyler asked.

“Not often. I don’t think there’s an opportunity for it when I have nowhere to go.”

He agreed with a grunt. “I think you’re lookin’ in the wrong spots, honey.”

Oh those godforsaken nicknames. The country in him seeped out at their mention.

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” he removed his arms from the back of his head and pointed to the now appearing stars the darker it became. “See here?”

You moved closer. “Not really.”

“There,” he pointed again. “Right there in the middle of those two clouds.”

There were two stories at play here: one of him proving that rain was coming in the guise of stars and the second of you trying to be aloof in order for him to touch you.

You’d spent the last hour with him. Watching him talk, eat, smile, and laugh at anything that brought him joy. Those lips begged you to kiss them. They beckoned you like a ship lost at sea and in the clouds, the water would find it.

You shook your head innocently.

“I don’t know what I’m looking at, Ty.”

“Here,” he took your hand in his and pointed to the stars. “Look.”

In the sky above, a faint outline of the Little Dipper appeared in your vision. You smiled lightly. His hand with his finger pointing was still outstretched and connected to yours which made it grow wider.

You were giddy.

Tyler moved his finger to fully cup your hand but as you kept looking at the sky, he looked at you. You could feel his eyes on you, the turn of his face and the low breaths he released through his nose.

“What else do you see?” He asked lowly.

You breathed in deeply. It was just too beautiful to explain one thing. The clouds grew thicker, dense in the night as light was swallowed up by the moon. The air was now cool enough to send a chill down your spine and wish the blanket was more than a thin excuse for a sheet.

“It’s getting cloudy,” you observed. “There are more stars and it’s cooling off.”

“Anything else?”

“It’s just beautiful.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “It is.”

“I’m can—“

You stopped mid-sentence at the sensation that hit your cheek.

It wasn’t air or breath or a bug or grass but a wetness that could have come from only one place: the sky. You waited for another to fall and it did not a second later. A third and fourth drop followed until it was a hundred drops or more into a steady downpour.

You scoffed in disbelief, sitting up to feel the rain in your palms and Tyler sat up too. His laugh was one of joy that followed yours.

“Oh my god!” You exclaimed as the water began to drench the area around you and your clothes.

“I told you!” Tyler shouted over the rain falling harder and harder. You blinked at him.

“How’d you know!?”

“Just did!”

“And what’s so magical about getting rained on?” You asked him.

He didn’t have a solid plan if it rained. All he knew is that he had seen this in the movies. A downpour catches two people in the rain and it creates one thing: magic. It’s innocent and daring, carefree and transparent. Rain makes lovers fall in love. It binds them to one spot, one moment in time where all the elements line up to craft one singular point that would forever be cemented in their memory.

“I don’t know,” he confessed.

Tyler positioned one hand to lean on behind your back while the other cupped your face. The rain dropped onto his hand but you were warm against the coldness of his hands. Your eyes glistened at him as the movies described.

“I don’t know what’s so magical about it.”

“Me either.”

“Can you kiss me?” You asked him. It wasn’t a question, per se. He was going to kiss you.

Tyler nodded his head, leaning in to meet your lips as the rain fell harder around you both. The sound of the rain disappeared when his lips met yours. Only the beat of your heart, the rush of your blood flooded your ears and body. You lifted a hand to grip his arm as he tilted his head, using his leverage to position you the way he wanted and deepened the kiss.

You could feel the tendrils of a story weaving in your bones. The place, the time, the kiss… it was a fairytale.

You dropped everything and kissed him in the pouring rain in a spot now forever implanted in your history, you felt the sparks fly higher.

A/N: thanks for reading! As always comments, reblog, and likes are always appreciated. I love hearing from all of you and your reactions motivate us greatly!

[callooopie]

Modern!Davos Blackwood headcannons (pt. 1?)

— SFW —

I’ll hit it from the back, just so you don’t get attached — i like the way you kiss me // artemas

I can definitely see myself making more of these. Adding to the modern! Davos lore. Not proofread. LMK if y’all have other ideas or headcannons too!

Benjicot Davos Blackwood. People call him Davos. Only close friends call him Ben. Only you can call him Benji. Although, he goes by his middle name usually. Now, bloody Ben? That’s a story to be told later on how he got... (There is no story. It’s just people saying “Shit.. there’s bloody Ben..” or something like that. There’s no violence to the name, only pure exasperation when people see him)

This is the boy you need to hide away in your closet or under your bed when your parents come checking in on you randomly. You could’ve been working on homework, or just hanging around. And somehow this “annoying” guy appeared outside your bedroom window—and you just had to let him in. “C’mooon, let me in sweetheart.. you think I can’t climb up there? Stand back, I’ll show you.”

He is the type of person to rant about how the education system is rigged, set up to fail students, or rant about it in general and as a whole. Anyway he’s got a 4.0, and makes it onto the dean’s list every semester in college. However he is always late to class—complete with either a Monster or Red Bull drink in tow.

He invites you over to his place like a gentleman. Ignore his “annoying fuckass” roommate.. (it’s Aeron.) He does the whole (“it’s a little messy :3”) as he leads you down the hall of their apartment. “Hello MTV, welcome to my crib.”

He cooks at that desk, game-wise. Faceit level is between 5-6. CSGO rank is Master Guardian II (He does tell you he once hit Global Elite. But he stopped the grind to focus on school, not because he’s washed or anything—maybe you could be his Valorant duo? Or be his support in League; he’ll have you know he makes a mean ADC.. do you do overnight discord calls?—)

If you play more casual games (Minecraft, stardew, etc) he will play with you, HOWEVER, he will either ruin the aesthetic of the minecraft world via automated farms OR speedrun the mines in stardew (he passes out so much it starts to affect the money you’re trying to save for farm upgrades). Every time he goes fishing in either game he puts on a country accent and makes “gone fishing, getting away from my bitch wife” jokes. “I’ve uh- carved out an area for the iron farm. Nothin’ too big—just something to get started.” (Shows you an utterly decimated and leveled biome)

Davos Blackwood fun fact no. 43; he does rallying (rally racing). He went to a rally school for fun over the summer. Ignore the price tag; yes he saved up for that! no it’s not dangerous! Regular driving wise he does donuts in empty parking lots, and takes corners way too fast. He is the type to street race a random ass pickup truck or some other car that pulls up beside him. It is thrilling, and he knows you enjoy it too despite your protests and how you grip the handle above the seat. “No it’s fine.. pfft—don’t worry don’t— I’ll smoke him. Just watch.”

Speaking of cars. Do not complain about his car. This is his baby. His one and only. It’s an old car; it’s so old it’s bordering not being considered street safe anymore. Ignore the anime girl stickers with their tits and ass out, that was there already he didn’t do that. “It’s safe don’t worry—I’m getting the bumper and everything fixed like Monday I swear.. no I did not hit anything why would you say that-“

He’s oddly in-tune with his emotions and emotions of others despite appearances. He’ll KNOW if something’s bothering you. Maybe you’re just a little too quiet, you laugh at a joke a little too late or even if it sounds unenthusiastic. Whatever it is, Davos is on the case. A hug, some pep talk, he’ll let you punch his palms to get any anger out. He’s your ride or die, of course he’d do anything for you. And maybe if it’s a person who upset you he might pay them a visit.. “Who was it this time? Oh—that bitch? Ugh. I’m sorry about that… I have a gun just saying—“

Needs your hand in his. Or some part of you touching him. Whatever works. If he does not get a modicum of affection in 5 minute intervals he shrivels up like a plant—no he’s not being dramatic. Is the type to whine loudly about it regardless of where you’re at. On occasion he lets out bloodcurdling screams as a joke, lamenting about being denied tender love from you. You think it’s funny in private, you do not think it’s funny in public. Which is why he always does it in public. “Gimme your hand. Wha? What do you mean ‘it’s too hot out’? I wanna.. I wanna hold your hand… I don’t care if you’re sweaty—LET ME HOLD YOUR HAND”

I do believe his brain would be.. a little rotted. He sends you tiktoks, niche memes, shitposts. He will watch twitch streams or league/csgo content creators on YouTube. His vocab is normal, but does consist of slang from the gaming community. This can be good and funny, or sometimes bad if he uses it during serious moments. However he’s at least a normal human being and knows when to talk ‘normally’. He says joever unironically

Shadow boxes you. No matter what’s happening or where. You could be looking at something in a store and you just see slow, dramatic punches going toward you. He makes the whooshing sound too. This is how you know he’s bored. He’s also the type to tackle you to the bed. Not in a sensual or cutesy way but in like a WWE way that initiates a caged fighting match between you two.

Regardless of your mastery level of skateboarding he will hold your hands and pull you around on his board. Late at night when the parks or lots are empty, you both will be there. And he’ll be a smiling goof as he gently steers you around on the board. He usually says fuck helmets (his one big flaw), but carries one around just for you. His safety be damned. Yours? No question about it, you’re wearing all the gear required.

Smoker. Red flag. Marlboros, sometimes he uses zyns. It’s bad. Yes he knows he’s going to get lung cancer and succumb to nicotine. But he just can’t help it—it helps him relax. It’s why there’s a plethora of gum and also a cologne bottle in his car. Does it help? That’s to be determined. Does not smoke near you however if you don’t like that, he’s not that bad of an asshole.

[trustmypoison]

Liquid Courage

Wonwoo x Classmate!Reader

Requested? Yes!

Genre: fluff, angst if you squint, college au, unrequited love and perhaps a painful amount of pining

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption and being drunk

Jeon Wonwoo would like to think he’s a normal college student. He’s picked a major that he can tolerate. He goes to class, bleary eyed after all-nighters working on assignments, chugging a seemingly endless stream of coffee. He joins a few clubs to avoid his family’s nagging that he’ll rot in front of the computer playing video games in his free time, though he does enjoy the rot time. He goes out with his roommate and friends regularly for dinner and drinks and parties. But he has a secret, and it’s the totally not normal, totally suffocating, totally obsessive, massive, enormous crush on you, one of his classmates. 

He hit him like a truck the moment he met you in the first day of freshman year, or rather the first day he saw you. He’d like to think he’s not shallow and doesn’t get hung up on looks. A pretty appearance doesn’t always equate to a pretty personality, after all. But he was totally enamored by how pretty you were on the first day to the point that he didn’t hear much of anything the calculus instructor said. He beats his head against his desk in his dorm later that day as he looks at the syllabus. He’s got to get it together because that’s not why he’s here. 

He thinks he’s starting to get a handle on this (not so) little crush when he remembers that the class he shares with you is a General Education class and it’s very likely that you’ll pick a different major than him. His first day of sophomore year, he realizes he was wrong because there you are, sitting in the front row of his Intro to Database Systems class, unmistakably as a student of the engineering department. It’s in this class that he realizes how screwed he really is.

The first time you meet him in the library for a peer programming project, his heart stops beating when you greet him with a wide smile. He had the same reaction when you were assigned to work together the day before and traded numbers. He gives a small smile, because it’s all he can really manage without giving everything away and gets to work. Later that night, he beats his head against this desk again in his dorm room, because you’re so, so smart on top of everything else. Don’t get me wrong, he didn’t think you were dumb by any means, far from it. But he wasn’t prepared to be corrected gently about a complex concept during your meeting earlier that day and he thinks the crush might just consume him. 

When his roommate, Mingyu, asks if he’s good, he just excuses it as being a little stressed by the work he has to get done. Never mind that the project with you is no longer on his list because it was done in a single sitting. He picks up another assignment, kind of regretting that he didn’t drag it out a little longer, even if his heart might not be able to take it. 

~

It’s the first day of the spring semester in his Sophomore year and he arrives early to his Matrix Algebra course. He didn’t know you’d be in this one with him, but he’s not totally surprised to see you here since you share a major and seem to be on the same track. But he is surprised to see you here, next to him. You greet him with a big smile and ask if the seat next to him is taken. “Oh, no. Go ahead, but don’t you want to sit up front?” 

You give him a confused smile as you slide into the seat. “What makes you say that?”

“You always sit in the front row,” he says simply, before realizing how it sounds. It sounds an awful lot like he pays a lot of attention to you. 

You don’t acknowledge his words or the way he flushes a little, but you do chuckle as you pull out your laptop. “Oh, yeah. I was way overdue for an optometrist appointment, so I couldn’t really see the board or screen. Just got a new prescription and new contacts last week, so I can sit back here with you!” 

“Oh,” he says lamely. “Okay, then.” 

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, face suddenly a little cautious. “That is, unless you’d like me to sit somewhere else?”

“No! I mean,” Wonwoo clears his throat awkwardly. “I mean, you can sit here. I don’t mind.”

You smile, though there’s still a tinge of caution to it. “Thanks, Wonwoo.” He can’t really respond because the instructor is sweeping into the room and getting started right away. He’s not quite sure what he’d say anyway. 

~

He’s absolutely beside himself the whole semester. Not only do you keep sitting next to him, but you seem to go out of your way to talk to him. It’s mostly about classes, but it’s still the highlight of his day, three times a week. He’s embarrassingly excited to go to his 8am class with you and it’s starting to get the attention of his roommate. 

Mingyu peers over his comforter as Wonwoo gets ready for class. He watches his roommate get dressed in more than sweats and a hoodie and fix his hair. The final straw is when he puts on cologne. “What class do you have again?”

“Matrix Algebra," Wonwoo says simply. 

“Uh huh. And you need cologne for that?” 

“I wear cologne everyday. What’s the big deal?” Wonwoo asks, though he doesn't sound like he cares about what the big deal actually is.

“You don’t. I’ve lived with you for a while. This is the first semester you’ve hopped out of bed for an 8am, and you’ve been doing it early every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. On Tuesday and Thursday, you have a 10am that you roll out of bed for and go to in sweats. Without cologne.” Mingyu adopts a smug expression. “So who is she?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mingyu,” Wonwoo says evenly. “I gotta go. I’m going to be late. Don’t wait up, I have a project to work on tonight.”

Mingyu glances at the clock when the dorm room door closes behind his roommate. It’s not even 7:40am yet and it's a five minute walk to class. Interesting.

~

Wonwoo feels like he's getting somewhere. It sounds silly, but he’s kind of getting his hopes up that this little crush isn’t totally unrequited. You always choose him for your partner in class and he enjoys meeting you to work on these projects together. You’ve even started branching out, talking about things other than the shared classes you both have. It’s late and you’re in the library with him, talking about a new book series you’re reading and he doesn’t think he could like you anymore than he does now. He’s asking what you like about it without spoilers when a guy approaches you, putting his hand on your back. You beam up at him and Wonwoo’s heart kind of plummets. 

“Hi baby, I was wondering where you got off to. I stopped by your dorm but you weren’t there,” the guy says. 

“Oh, I should have told you I had a project to work on,” you say apologetically. “You weren’t worried about me, were you?” 

“No, never,” the guy says lightly, glancing to Wonwoo. 

You perk up. “Oh, this is Wonwoo. He’s my partner for one of my major courses. Wonwoo, this is my boyfriend, Minghao.”

Wonwoo does his best to be polite, but he’s feeling some type of way about hearing the word ‘boyfriend' come out of your mouth. He didn’t know you were dating anyone, not that it's a crazy thought. He doesn’t see you a lot around campus outside of class because you run in different circles socially. 

Minghao is friendly, making it difficult to hate him. “Oh, good. Maybe you both can help me me with my math homework. I’m an arts major, I’m not cut out for these gen ed courses. Can I join?”

He considers leaving but it feels rude, so he stays, even helping Minghao here and there. It occurs to him that he’s torturing himself by staying. You and Minghao seem like a good match, the epitome of opposites attract really. You’re an engineering major and he’s an arts major. You’re bubbly and outgoing, and he’s a little shy and reserved. But you both are smart and well-read and have a gentle approach to social interactions. Not to mention you both look totally love sick for each other. It makes Wonwoo love sick in a totally different way.

He trudges back to his dorm late, going straight to bed. He skips class the next day, sending you a short text that he doesn’t feel well. He doesn’t respond when you send him a message back, hoping that he feels better and that you’ll send him your notes.

~

It’s the middle of the fall semester, Junior year, and you and Wonwoo are knee deep in major courses now, most of which you share with each other. Whatever hopes he might have had last semester to avoid you seem totally unreasonable, and he's resigned himself to the unrequited aspect of his friendship with you. And it really does seem like a friendship now. He sees you a lot more now, mostly because you spend hours together every single weekday, both in and between classes. So, he notices something is off when you show up late to your shared Networking class, sneaking in with an apologetic bow to the instructor. 

“Are you okay?” He whispers automatically, concerned. You give him a passing glance, nodding, but he spots it for the lie that it is, because your eyes are red and you’re wearing your glasses today, instead of contacts. His first thought is allergies, but he’s known you for a while and you’ve never seemed to suffer from it much before. He watches you set your phone on Do Not Disturb, but not before he spots dozens of unread messages and calls. 

He lets you be for the duration of the class and leads you to the cafe on campus as usual afterwards. It’s a habit this semester because neither of you usually have time to get coffee before your shared 8am. He gestures for you to have a seat while he orders. Another little habit, you both take turns paying on these little trips. When he places your order in front of you, he simply asks if you want to talk about it. 

He does not expect you to tear up and panic bubbles inside of him fast. “I’m sorry, I’m being a cry baby about it. It’s not that serious.”

“Unlikely. What’s not that serious?” 

You sigh. “Minghao and I have been fighting a lot lately.”

“About what?” Wonwoo asks, though it feels like a gut punch to even talk about him. He usually tries to forget he exists. You stare at him and he purses his lips. “We’re friends, right?” You nod automatically and he ignores the way your lack of hesitation simultaneously elates and stings him. “Then tell me about it. At least venting might help, even if I can’t help you fix it.”

You don’t look at him for a while and finally say, “He’s got a bit of a jealous streak. I feel like he doesn’t trust me. We fought last night and it was bad.”

“I’m sorry,” he says genuinely “I’m sure you haven’t given him any reason not to trust you. Maybe he’s just insecure.” Wonwoo says ‘maybe’ but he’s positive that’s the case. He might be too if he was in Minghao’s shoes, but he’d never make it your problem. He waves away the thought because he’s not likely to ever be in Minghao’s shoes.

“Maybe… Maybe I should just end it,” you say. He’s conflicted, because there’s screaming in his head about the idea of you being single, yet you sound so upset about it. 

So he says, “If you feel like that’s the right thing to do. I’m here if you need me.” He lets you go about the day, acting a little bit like a zombie. He guides you between classes, shares his notes with you as usual, and guides you to your dorm building when classes are over. 

~

He certainly does not expect you to actually reach out to him later that night. You call at nearly 10pm and both Wonwoo and Mingyu jump at the sound. Wonwoo’s already pulling on a jacket and shoes when he hears you sniffle, asking if he’s up for a walk. He ignores Mingyu’s raised eyebrow on the way out. 

You’re sitting on a bench outside of his dorm building when he comes outside. “You good?” He asks, even though he kind of knows the answer already. 

“Yeah, just needed some air. You weren’t busy, were you?” You ask, standing up. Your nose is bright red and he wonders if it’s from crying or the cold, or both.

“No, just lying around.” He follows your lead, though he can tell you’re walking aimlessly. “Want to talk about it?” You shake your head and he lets you be. He doesn’t hear anything about Minghao after that. 

~

It’s senior year and there are only a few things that have changed. The first is that neither of you live in the dorms anymore. Wonwoo and Mingyu got an apartment just off campus, and when Wonwoo mentioned that there were other units open in the building, you jumped at the opportunity, citing how totally over communal spaces you were. You move in with one of your friends down the hall. He likes Jeonghan. He seems like a good friend to you, which is the most important thing, really. But selfishly, he likes Jeonghan because the two of you resemble siblings more than anything else and he’s comforted by the seemingly platonic nature of your relationship. 

The second change is that because of this new proximity and lack of rules around guests, you both are in and out of each other’s apartments constantly. Those late nights at the library are replaced by late nights at each other’s kitchen table with laptops and textbooks spread across it. There are also movie nights and video game nights and reading nights and really everything in between. 

The third change is precisely because of this new proximity. His friends are absolutely onto his little secret. Mingyu smirks and raises an eyebrow every time Wonwoo bails on plans and says he’s busy. “Busy with who?” Mingyu will ask tauntingly. Wonwoo does his best to brush this off, but his friends see right through it, like they do tonight. 

You’re sitting across from him at the kitchen table, working on an assignment together, when a lot of noise at his front door makes him groan. You look at him questioningly, and that look only grows when he says he’s sorry for what’s about to happen. He’s done everything he can to avoid this moment, but it seems he can’t escape it anymore. Mingyu’s met you because you’re here all the time, but the others haven’t and they’re about to. 

Mingyu barrels into the room with Seungcheol and Vernon on his heels. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you guys were working on anything.” Mingyu’s apology is a total lie because that was the entire reason that Wonwoo bailed on plans with them, but he won’t call him out on it in front of you. 

“You must be Y/N, we’ve heard a lot about you,” Seungcheol says, introducing himself and Vernon. You glance questioningly still at Wonwoo, but you’re friendly about greeting them back. 

“We’ll be quiet,” Mingyu promises, leading the others to the living room with a smug look. They aren’t quiet in the least, but it doesn’t matter because the project is done within an hour. You pack up your things and leave, telling him you’ll see him tomorrow. He knows he has to face the music at some point, so he decides to get it over with, joining his friends in the living room. 

“So, that’s Y/N, huh? She’s cute,” Seungcheol teases.

“Told you. He’s down bad,” Mingyu laughs. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re just friends. We’ve had a lot of classes together over the years,” Wonwoo says evenly. 

“Is she not single?” Vernon asks. While Seungcheol and Mingyu are teasing, Vernon doesn’t seem to mean anything by it. Still, Wonwoo would like to pretend that he doesn’t feel the way he does and doesn’t want the questions. 

“No, I’m pretty sure she is, but it doesn’t matter. We’re just friends.” Okayyyys and Whatever You Says echo behind him as he excuses himself to bed, because he’s decided he actually isn’t ready for this conversation. He’d like to keep living in denial. 

~

If it was even possible, you integrate even more into his life. It turns out that Jeonghan shares classes with Seungcheol, so now those little ventures with his friends include you and your roommate too. Over time, he sees it for what it is. His friends seem to like yours and Jeonghan’s company, sure, but they actually just like to watch him squirm around you. 

But he’d never dream of turning down time with you, so he finds himself out at the bar. This one is special because it’s actually half arcade. He’s been eyeing it since he heard that it opened and no one objects to making it the outing on Saturday night. Everyone grabs a drink upon arrival and starts making their way around each machine. He sticks with you most of the night and doesn’t even notice how many coins the two of you have gone through or that your friends have long abandoned this side of the building, opting for the actual bar. They even leave you two after a while to go to another bar down the street. 

When Mingyu comes home and finds Wonwoo on the couch, he groans. “What are you doing here? You were supposed to be out with Y/N! We had a whole plan!” 

Wonwoo blinks at his roommate. “What do you mean? You guys abandoned us and when we were done with the games we came home.”

“We abandoned you so you could make a move!” Mingyu cries. 

Again, Wonwoo blinks. “I won’t be doing that.” 

“Why not?!” Mingyu’s cries are getting louder and perhaps a little more like literal cries. 

“Because she doesn’t like me like that,” Wonwoo says, but he’s realizes his mistake as soon as it’s out. Mingyu’s already smirking, wails forgotten.

“Oh? But you do?” 

“Good night, Mingyu,” Wonwoo dismisses, standing up. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll work on it for you,” his roommate promises and it sounds vaguely like a threat. 

“We?” Wonwoo asked, then he remembers how your shared friends abandoned both of you earlier tonight. “You know what, never mind. I don’t want to know. Good night, Mingyu,” He says, meaning it this time.

~

It’s Valentine’s Day, but Wonwoo treats it as business as usual. He has classes that are kicking his ass this semester, namely his senior design project, and he hardly thinks about the significance of the day and how he’s painfully single with an unrequited crush. You’ve been swamped too for the same reasons and you agree to meet him at his apartment for dinner and to work on your projects together. 

It’s late when you leave and he packs up his things after seeing you out. When he goes to his room to settle in for bed, he’s surprised to see a little heart-shaped box on his desk. There’s a little card with his name in your hand writing on it and it makes him stall out. First of all, how did you sneak this in here? Yes, you use his ensuite bathroom while you’re here, but he didn’t even see you sneak anything out of your bag. Secondly, why did you get him anything? 

Heart racing a little, he opens the card. It’s simple and actually gives no indication of why you did this - just a simple Happy Valentine’s Day, accompanied by a little image of a cat and your name written underneath it. Inside the box is a small selection of chocolates. He feels lame when he sends you a message thanking you for the chocolates, and even lamer when you simply send back, ‘You’re welcome!’ He doesn’t know how to interpret the meaning of this gesture and is sort of afraid to ask, so he leaves it alone. 

~

It’s his friends that plant the seed. “It’s almost White Day,” Seungcheol says over lunch. He has a feeling that it’s directed at him, but he stays silent. This is their not-so-subtle way of telling him to do something about your little Valentine’s Day gift last month. He didn’t mention it to any of them, but he probably doesn’t have to because they probably already know since they keep conspiring to get him to make a move. Wonwoo’s caught Jeonghan in on it occasionally too, which might be how they know about your little gift. 

“I didn’t get anything this year,” Vernon says, though he doesn’t sound too put out by it. “Did you guys?”

Seungcheol and Mingyu both shake their head. “What about you, Wonwoo? Did you get anything?” Mingyu asks slyly. 

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow, chewing his food. “I did,” he admits shortly.

“Oh? And are you going to return the gift?” Vernon asks, sounding hopefully.

“Maybe.” Another short answer.

“I think you should. I think she’d like it,” Seungcheol says, sounding just as hopeful as Vernon. Wonwoo doesn't ask who ‘she’ is, because it feels a little too much like admitting how he feels. So he just shrugs. 

~

White Day is on a Friday. Wonwoo goes through the day per usual, attending classes and hanging out with you in between. You seem to be in a good mood today, which isn’t unusual, but you’re a little twitchy. He gives you a look as you wiggle in your seat for the thousandth time since sitting down at the cafe in the afternoon. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you excuse. “Maybe a little too much caffeine today.” 

He doesn’t call you out what he thinks might be a lie because as far as he knows you’ve only had two cups today, one this morning and the one you’re drinking now. “Maybe you should cut back,” he teases. 

You give him an entertained look. “You first, then we’ll talk.” 

That night, he finds himself at a single’s mixer with you and your shared friends. One of Seungcheol’s frat friends extended the invitation and he didn’t have a good reason to turn it down. He loses you in the crowd quickly and wishes he hadn’t. He knows the whole point of this thing is to find someone to date or hook up with, but he has such little interest in the idea that he does his best to dodge any woman that approaches him. 

He finds you at the kitchen counter, total chaos around you, but you look totally dejected and unaware of it. He pats your back, getting your attention. That’s when he realizes that you aren’t just dejected, but you’re drunk. “Doing okay?” 

You nod, eyes a little unfocused. “Are you having fun?”

He shrugs. “Not particularly. Do you want to dip?” You nod and he realizes just how far gone you are when you stand up, wobbling from side to side. He steadies you, leading you out of the house. “Okay to walk?” You nod again, clinging to his side drunkenly as you two begin walking back. “You don’t normally drink this much, do you?” He asks carefully. 

“No,” you admit. “Just felt like it tonight.” 

“Okay,” he soothes. “Let’s get you to bed. You look like you’ll pass out anytime.” You don’t fight him when he leads you into his apartment instead. He knows your apartment is right down the hall, but he doesn’t like the idea of leaving you unattended when you’re like this. He hands you some clothes to change into and excuses himself. When he comes back with some water and medicine, you’re tugging the t-shirt into place. He beats back the thought of seeing you in his clothes because now is just not the time. Or rather never. 

“Take this first,” he commands, handing you the medicine and the water. When you’re done, he holds the comforter up for you to slide under. 

“Are you staying?” You ask sleepily, setting in immediately.

Wonwoo chuckles. “Well, I live here, so… I’ll be on the couch though, if you need me.”

You glare, though there’s absolutely nothing threatening about it. “No, just stay here.” You clumsily scoot over, peeling the covers back. 

He should say no, but he’s totally weak for you and can’t think to say no, so he sighs. “Let me change. I’ll be back.” When he comes back, he thinks you’re asleep. He’s almost dozed off when you speak up again. 

“Sorry you have to take care of me. I didn’t mean to overdo it,” you mumble. 

“It’s fine. Why did you overdo it though? I wasn’t under the impression that you really liked drinking all that much,” Wonwoo questions. He doesn’t actually expect to get a coherent answer, but it’s worth a try. He didn’t like seeing you so dejected earlier tonight. It reminds him of how you were when things with Minghao ended a couple years ago.

“It’s silly,” you mumble. You really sound like you’re barely hanging on to consciousness and he tries to ignore how cute it is. 

“Doubt it. Try me,” he dares. 

You huff, eyebrows furrowing. “You didn’t get me anything for White Day.” Wonwoo’s jaw drops, but you’re still rambling sleepily, eyes still closed. “I got you the chocolates for Valentine’s Day to tell you that I like you, but you didn’t get anything for me for White Day, so you must not return my feelings.” You huff again. “It’s okay.”

“I did though,” he blurts. Your eyes shoot open. You don’t look totally present, but you certainly don’t look so tired anymore. “I do.”

“You did? You do?” Your hopeful tone threatens crush him right where he lies. 

“Of course… I just wasn’t sure how to give it to you. You’re a lot braver than I am, it seems,” he chuckles, feeling a little embarrassed. He sits up, opening his bedside drawer, pulling out a little heart-shaped box with a little card on top of it. Your eyes light up at the sight and you clumsily sit up. 

“You like me back?” You’re doing your best to focus on the conversation and the way you add the word ‘back’ makes his heart beat out of his chest.

“Yeah, for an embarrassingly long time,” Wonwoo admits. You reach for the box and he stops you. “Maybe don’t eat it tonight. I don’t want you to get sick. It’ll be here tomorrow though.” You pout, but agree, letting him sit the box to the side. “Come on, go to sleep. We can talk about this in the morning. If you remember, that is.”

You follow his command, but he’s surprised that you don’t lie back down on your pillow, but rather his chest. He’s sure you can hear his heart race, but he would never dream of pushing you away. “I’ll remember,” you insist stubbornly, but then you’re snoring softly the very next second and Wonwoo’s on cloud nine. 

~

Wonwoo wakes up to the sound of crinkling in the morning. He cracks his eyes open, blindly reaching for his glasses. When they’re in place, he scoffs at you. You’re sitting up in bed next to him, picking at the chocolates. “That’s not breakfast, Y/N.”

You grin. “But you got them for me!” You look surprisingly alert, like you didn’t get absolutely wasted the night before. 

Wonwoo nods, acquiescent. “I did. So you remember our conversation last night?”

You hum, grinning wider still. “I do. How long is ‘embarrassingly long’ exactly?”

“A while,” Wonwoo says evasively. “Any plans today?” You shake your head. “Go on a date with me?”

“Okay,” you grin. You pick up a chocolate, handing it to him. “One for you, one for me.” 

He thinks you’re so cute that he can’t even be mad that your shared breakfast is chocolate. He actually wouldn’t want it any other way. 

[exerotica]

The Ice Cream Man

Explicit 18+, Instant Weight gain, Force Feeding, M/M, Sexual Themes

Flipping through the channels Jake passed by the news where he noticed the heat index was 105 right now. Even inside he was feeling it, his AC was barely able to keep his ancient house at 85. Thankfully his parents were gone for the day and he could lay on the couch shirtless without comments about the small flab he’s put on since starting college. He was thinking about cracking open the fridge and freezer to cool himself down when the faint sound of an ice cream truck pricked his ear, “Perfect,” he sighed.

Jake threw on his favorite shirt and hat and stepped out the front door, the wet boiling outside air hitting him like a wave of lava. Squinting, trying to adjust his eyes, he looked down the street and met the met the bright colorful box that called to him like a siren. He met the truck where it stopped, “Hey Connor, thank god you’re here!”

“Hey Jake, figured I’d see you today. How’s it been going?”

“The heat index is 105, I’m not NOT getting ice cream man. Summer has been flying by until this heat wave hit, I can barely move in my own house without breaking a sweat”

“Not too sure that’s all to do with the heat Jake. Freshman 15 is a real thing, and I distinctly remember that shirt not fitting so tight last semester”

“You sound just like my parents, I don’t mind a few pounds, especially in the off-season. I just need something to cool off, I’ve been dying today”

“The usual?” Conner had an ice cream cone ready in a few seconds. They caught up and talked about plans for next semester while some of Jake’s neighbors ordered from the Truck. Connor had clearly been consistent with the gym even during the summer, he was much buffer than Jake remembered from last semester. Jake finished his cone by the time his neighbors dispersed and still wasn’t quite satisfied. “Hey how about another cone?”

“Another one? People are gonna be calling you ‘big guy’ next semester if you keep this big back activity up man haha”

“Listen, you parked almost a block away from my house, this one is so I don’t die of heat stroke on the way back.”

Connor smiled, rolled his eyes, and had another cone in Jake’s hand within a few seconds. Jake enjoyed his second cone but lingered and kept chatting with Connor a bit more. He caught sight of Jake’s underbelly as the wind flipped it up against the soft outline of his belly button pressing against his shirt. He couldn’t help himself, “You know Jake, if you’re really looking to cool off, this was my last stop so I have time to kill, hop in.”

Jake raised an eyebrow and smirked, “If you’re planning on kidnapping me, I’m going to community college, so it should be pretty clear my parents can’t afford a ransom.”

“Get in smart-ass,” Connor closed the side door and let Jake in, watching his pudge ripple as he hopped up the steps into the back of the ice cream truck.

“Oh fuck, it’s so cold, can I live here?” Jake closed his eyes and let the cold wash over him for a bit. Connor showed Jake the freezers, topping buckets, and ice cream machine.

Jake tapped the machine as it emitted a slow consistent hum, “Damn this thing looks old”

“Yeah, most of my work honestly is running and keeping this thing clean. The owner like to take really good care of it, ‘none of that new fake shit’ he says.”

“Can’t say he’s wrong, I love the stuff”

“Clearly. Course, on a day like today, you’re the only fatass who can finish the ice cream before it melts.” Connor chuckled to himself as he tidied up around the truck.

“Who needs to worry about melting when you can get it straight from the source?” Jake quickly kneeled and twisted his body so that his head faced the roof of the truck and locked his mouth to the spout of the machine. Turning the knob and letting the soft freezing cream slither into his mouth and melt down his throat, cooling his entire body.

“Jake! What the fuck man, you’re lucky I have to clean that anyways. I didn’t realize you were THIS much of a pig.” Connor paused as he saw Jake’s body pressed out from kneeling backwards and his shirt riding up past his belly button, exposing his soft pudgy belly. Connor couldn’t help but get hard watching Jake chug the ice cream, his body plump frame getting stretched and rounder.

Jake gave a few final strained gulps and sat upright on both knees, holding onto his gut and wincing. “burrraahhhhh… fuck that was heavier than I thought it was going to be.” Jake’s shirt was practically skintight, his love handles and underbelly finally free from his shirt, acting more as a crop top with two soft breasts still pressed away inside.

He looked over at Connor and from his kneeled position had a direct view of his hard on pressing against his skinny beige slacks. “Looks like I wasn’t the only one who enjoyed that, Connor.” As he nodded to Connor’s waist.

Connor walked over to jake and stood in front of him, still kneeling Jake was inches from Connor’s cock and could clearly see just how big the outline was. “I just knew your fat ass couldn’t resist” Connor said, looking down at Jake’s soft features staring back up at him.

“I could use some help for round two..” Jake had barely finished speaking before Connor knelt next to him supporting his head as he pressed his lips to the machine. Connor flipped the level and cream started flowing again down Jake’s throat. He felt the cold liquid strain in his gut as it kept pumping into him. Connor pressed his buff frame against Jake’s as he rubbed and groped his fat, jiggling his love handles and reaching up his tight shirt to access his man tits.

“That’s it fatass, keep going. Look at how big that fucking gut is getting.” As Connor encouraged Jake, he noticed Jake’s body getting bigger. Not just his belly, but his tits, love handles, ass, everything was growing right in Connor’s hands giving him more and more to squeeze and jiggle. Connor could take it, his cock practically tore its own way out of his pants and started grinding against Jake’s fat blubber.

Jake’s moans muffled by the machine had grown louder and deeper. He felt his body growing and his clothes straining against his new fat which was starting to spill out everywhere. His mind was fluttering barely thinking anything more than just how good it all felt. Connor’s fat cock pressing into his doughy frame with a constant stream of fat flowing straight onto his frame. His belly pressed out from his once skinny frame, freely hanging over his pants and jiggling like jello with every touch of Connor’s hand. He could barely control himself when Connor had freed his cock and started jerking him off, so much sexual input coming from his body was sending his brain into a frenzy.

Ice cream pumping into his fat greedy gut and Connor fucking one of his newly formed fat rolls, Jake struggled to breath trying to moan and tensing up he shot rope after rope of hot cum onto Connor and the floor of the truck. Connor joined in and as he repeatedly forced his cock against Jake’s blubber, causes ripples of Jake’s fat to run across his body. He grit his teeth and groaned as he pumped cum all over Jake’s new fat for what seemed like an eternity.

Jake’s naked obese body collapsed onto the floor of the truck the moment Connor turned the ice cream machine off. Connor got on top of him and pressed his hard muscley frame into Jake as he held his head and kissed his chubby face. Jake’s brain still in its haze, “I can’t believe I’m this fucking big.” Connor slapped his gut causing Jake’s belly to ripple and him to moan, “That sweet tooth of yours just finally caught up to you big guy.”