#anyway fun fact he is One Foot Shorter than me :) so he reaches like. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

toiletwipes · 3 years

Text

and i'd give up forever to touch you

extra chapter. all i can breathe is your life.

Summary: It's discount, disco Tuesday and you've decided to drag Wilbur along too!

~3.4k words. masterlist.

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he finds himself wrapped in one of your adventures, you being determined to find inspiration to keep writing music and living life the way you always loved. he didn't get any of it, but you were his friend, and he didn't mind all that much when it was you.

at the moment, you'd taken him out for a drive, refusing to tell him where you'd be going but beforehand you'd painted shapes onto both of your faces, with neon green and yellow and pink paint. diamond and hearts on yours, clubs and spades on his, not to mention the outfit you demanded he wear. demanded is a loose term, you merely gave him a look, puppy dog eyes, and he folded like a lawn chair.

the paint had dried and left his face feeling itchy but every time he raised a hand, you'd slap it down. "if i have to hold your hand, i will, don't test me, will." you had teased but you definitely felt your breath stutter at the thought, and he wasn't fairing that much better. holding hands?

much to his surprise, he found himself standing in a short line for roller skates, lights dim and people skating in a large rink. you had paid for the tickets and everything, insisting all he had to do was skate. how hard could it be?

for him, unnecessarily.

the moment he stood up with the skates tied to his feet, he could barely stand still, threatening to fall over in three different directions. his long legs have finally backfired on him from all the times he's mocked you for being shorter.

but you, you glided through the air, stopping by his side as you steady him, a little giggle in your breath. and he could see the outfit and the paint coming together. while everything else had dimmed, the paint and clothes glowed. and you didn't look so bad like this.

not to mention the skirt you chose for tonight, with shorts underneath of course, but it was hard to remind himself that you're just friends.

that you didn't wear it for him, why would you when you're just friends?

he whines inside of his head, so cruel, as you help him to the edge of the rink, holding onto the wall. most of the skaters stay close to the inside of the circle, lucky for you two as you guide him to the edge of it, feeling the breeze from everyone.

you cut slide backwards as you hold both of his hands and guide him through the motions. "just one foot in front of the other, like you're sweeping dirt behind your feet." you say, but as he tries to kick his feet, he trips himself and falls into you. you curse as you both tumble to the ground, wilbur's face shoved into your stomach and your knees wedged into his armpits.

"you okay?" you call over the music, ignoring the slight ache in your elbows and butt, patting his shoulder.

he lifts his head and is met with your face staring him down and all he can see is the paint and the whites in your eyes glowing. and he can't think, nothing processing. is that what a god looks like, he vaguely hears in the back of his mind.

"wilbur?"

without another second to think, he's scrambling off of you, as much as he can with the skates tied to his feet still, but he can see a slight impression from the paint, somehow, in your white shirt.

you don't notice, only snickering as you pull yourself to your feet and he just so happened to be looking up and oh fuck.

he can see up your fucking skirt.

and it doesn't matter that you're wearing shorts, because he's still fucking looking. until he covers his eyes and attempts to stand without any aide. god, he knew he was a pervert but shit. not that he could forget the sight when it's burnt in the inside of his eyelids.

"oh my god, you're so stupid," you laugh and tug on his arms, and drag him back to the wall, getting him to stand eventually.

he groans, leaning his forehead against the wall with both of his hands gripping the sides as tight as he can, "how am i supposed to skate if i can't even make it past the entrance? what was the point of bringing me?" he says, looking up at you as you survey the area, and you just shrug, a small smile playing at your lips.

"it was a discount tonight, figured you'd might enjoy learning," and you're tugging his arms again, looping one of your arms into his to help guide him. "and besides, you'll never learn if all you do is mope and whine about it!" and you press on his back and chest, getting him to stop slouching and telling him how to balance his weight the best way for him, before nudging him forward and watching his arms lock up, feet straight as they roll right towards the chairs lining the walls.

he falls to his knees when he reaches the chairs, and you don't hesitate in calling him dramatic, stopping right in front of him as he pulls himself to sit.

"i think-" he gulps down air like it's water, "i think i'll sit here for- for a minute." you try to pull him up but he shakes his head, insists that you get a headstart into skating, he'll probably figure it out after watching you do it anyways.

you skate away, only after he reassures you once more he's more than okay sitting for a moment.

and you make it look more than easy. you skate across the glossy floor like it was made of butter, weaving your way in and out of the crowd as if you had places to be. and in a brief moment with no one in front of you, you slow down, arms lowered to your side as you enjoy the chilled air, a smile growing as you begin to move your legs and arms again, doing two more laps before you come back to wilbur.

he doesn't have much to say.

"wow."

and he just accepts the punch to his shoulder, rubbing out the ache as you laugh.

"it's just practice, that's all it is."

"you probably practiced like a professional, knowing you." he teases, eyes flickering from the endless moving mass, glowing in the darkness and back to you.

"to be fair, my parents loved taking me here as a kid, didn't help that they knew the owners," you shrug, chest heaving a little bit as you spoke, your breath not yet even.

"that does help," he says, fingers pressing into his knees as he briefly wonders when this place will close. not that he's not having fun, it's just that he doesn't know how to skate at all. and maybe it doesn't help that skating comes to you like breathing does. "so what's-"

"-alright, skaters, it's time for the first special skate, the couples round, if all the single people could please safely exit the rink-"

"oh that's our cue," he says and as he stands you tell him to just hold onto your shoulders, you'll lead him out of the rink. but just as you get to the halfway point, you're singled out.

"to the strange couple, please refer to the default hand-holding, and not the conga, thank you,"

your brain short-circuits to the point where you miss the exit and, on accident, rejoin the circling mass of skaters. wilbur, who's right beside you, is panicking.

"y/n- i can't- i can't do this- i can't skate," and he's breathing too hard as his limbs begin to lock up, you shake out of your stupor and gently take his hand into your own and try to distract him, going from telling him you believe in him, telling him to just bend his knees and you'll guide him like before. then you offer something else up.

"if we get through this lap, we'll do anything you want and i can't say no," you tell him, and it's unbelievably hard to say anything but yes please get me out of there.

and all he can get out is a strained yes, quiet as anything over the music that reverberates through their chests, over the sound of the wheels against the floor.

but you guide him through it, slow and towards the outside of the rink, where most of the couples weren't, and its painful to watch him stiff as anything, barely holding himself together. but as the time passes, you find yourself back at the exit, and he doesn't hesitate to latch onto the closest free table and sit down. he's swallowing mouthfuls of air, maybe a little bit dramatic you humor to yourself, but for the most part he looks tired already.

you stand next to him, reaching up to card your fingers through his hair. "you did so good, wilbur, you made it," he doesn't say anything as he leans his head back as you work your fingers through small tangles. doesn't say anything as the praise burns at his groin, and hopes the dim lights and his physical exhaustion covers the fact that he might have a praise kink.

you lean down to whisper in his ear, "alright, we got through it, what would you like to do now?" and it takes a lot for him to hold back begs and whimpers, but he manages to say something along the lines of food.

you lead him back to your original table with your shoes sitting on top, you ask him if he wants to take the skates off and he doesn't even hesitate to pull them off as soon as he's sitting again. you have to laugh, but then his head rolls around his shoulders and looks at you with dark eyes and it catches in your throat.

eyes wide and mouth open, he knows that this view is dangerous, but keeps looking. though, you seem to pull yourself together and give yourself a thorough shake, your fingers, hands, arms, and torso wiggle in your seat. shaking off whatever it was that had you frozen.

"alright, come with me to get food?" you ask and he nods, standing up and finds that standing without a death machine strapped to his feet is much easier now. with the challenge gone, he starts to walk and then finds you latching onto his elbow with glowing, puppy dog eyes. "drag me?" you pout and he gives in, so easily, you wonder if he would ever say no to you.

your skates facing straight, he pulls you down the pathway between tables and finds himself at a bar area, you barely stopping from slamming into his sides, and he has to wrap an arm around you to settle you still.

you stay still alright, his arms warm from the exertion, and the slight sheen coating his skin makes you want to wring him out like a hand towel and at the same time, you want more than his arm around you.

but you're not toeing the lines of your relationship right now, you're fucking ordering food.

"what can i get for you today?" you skim over the menu above the employee's head, and will answers him curtly, you responding just as quick, handing over the right amount before waiting for the food itself by the edge of the bar.

you lean your knuckles into your cheek, breathing out a dramatic sigh to get wilbur's divided attention. he barely turns around at the sound of another sigh and by then, he's got an unimpressed look printed on his features.

"what is it going to take for you to loosen up? you move as if your bones are popsicle sticks held together by glue."

"you don't know my bones," is all he says before nodding to the employee handing him his chips and water, not even wasting a second before opening the bottle and drinking half of it to soothe the dry itch in his throat.

"you didn't answer my question, will," you inch closer to him to sing it in his ear, but he turns his face to look at you, instead of forward, and you're now nose-to-nose, so close together, just barely a breath's distance.

your breath hitches and he hears it, above everything else, he hears it and just barely closes his eyes and closes the distance. you don't move until you realize where you were again, and you're pushing on his shoulders, skating across the floor with the bag of pretzels and bottle of water in your hand. wilbur walks behind you confused, more along the lines of afraid of the car ride home where you inevitably stop talking to him and demand he never speak to you again. had he read all the signs wrong? did you hate him?

you yank the shoes off your feet, taking the pair and wilbur's to the front, pulling on your converse as you left the rink with him trailing behind you, feeling more than ever like he fucked up. he knows he fucked up in his life before but it never felt as big as this.

the sky is dark and feels unforgiving as you, but you're taking the drinks and snacks and throwing them into the back without him saying anything.

and then you're closing the door and looking at him with your hands still open, as if you're still holding something, and he's about to ask a question, ask if you're okay or something like that, when you yank on the collar of his shirt and press your lips against his firmly, leaning your back against your car, hidden away from potential onlookers.

he braces himself with both hands landing on either side of you, your mouth distracting him more than he'd ever thought. fucking hell, he thinks, your lips soft, warm, and he can't help but chase after yours when you pull away for a second. you're looking at him with half-lidded eyes, and then you're leaning into him, hands sliding up to cusp his face, before tucking your head under his jaw and lips attaching to his neck, sucking and biting and soothing the bites with long swipes of your tongue.

wilbur feels so warm- so hot as you continue to leave hickey after hickey, it feels too good and he grinds his hips against yours, feeling a moan bubble in his throat when a hand covers his mouth, "don't let them know what we're up to, mkay?"

he almost whines beneath your hand but you're right back to his neck, pleasure spiking up in his spine every time you bite down and every time your tongue flattens against every lovebite.

eventually, the sound of the doors constantly swinging open and closed grabs your attention than the trembling man under your hands and mouth, leaning back as you look at the mess you made of him.

"wanna head home now?" you whisper, reaching up to push his hair out of his face, pressing a small kiss to his jaw.

home. not your dorm, not his apartment, home.

he nods, barely holding it together as you lead him back to the passenger side, closing the door and heading towards the driver's, a little pep in your step. you nod at the other skaters leaving and they give a slight nod back, unbeknownst to the man you're slowly ruining that sits in your car.

getting in, you're faced with a mess. glancing at his neck, you reach back and down for something soft, pulling it up, you see it's your old jacket, something you had for years and… something to cover your friend in for now. "here, if you get cold, because i'm feeling hot." you hand it over to him, before turning the ac up all the way, cranking it to the maximum settings and feeling the bitter cold on your very warm skin.

it was an excuse, of course, but you weren't going to tell him that as you see him very quickly pull it over his head. had you gotten it in a size that fit you, it might not have fit his long torso, but oversized? perfect on him.

you don't see him pulling on the edge of the hoodie, breathing deeply as he could to take all of your scent in. something akin to weed and cinnamon. something home would smell like, he figures.

it takes twenty minutes before you reach the dorms, and it takes another minute before you're inside your designated one, finding rosie and jared curled into the sofa, jumping at every turn in the horror movie on the tv.

"we're back," you say, as you head into the kitchen and pull out another bottle of water, drinking it in as you're well aware of the eyes you have burning into your skin.

swallowing the last gulp, you throw away the empty bottle before looking the man in your hoodie in the eyes and seeing just the very edge of hickeys peek out from the collar. stepping close to him, you reach up to his face and grasp his chin fairly soft, pulling him down just enough to kiss him slow and deep. when you pull away, the dried paint is dripping slightly down his cheek. you swipe it away as his eyes stayed shut.

"we'll be in my room, call us if you need us," you say but they were too absolved in their scary movie, too busy to notice the man practically shaking under your touch.

leading him to your room, like the thousands of times before, and leading him to your bed like the thousands of times before, but this time you give the door a slight kick before it closes. this time you kiss him and let him press you into the bed, hands burning everywhere they touch on your skin.

the nerves in his body feels shot when you reach under the hoodie to press your cold fingers against his skin, pressing against his stomach and gasping into his mouth when he does the same, flicking your shirt up a little to dig his fingers into your hip.

pulling away to breathe, you slow down, your heart pounding against your chest as you come down from a high that you knew would become a problem later on. you lean your head back into a pillow as he slows down too, his sticky forehead against your bare shoulder.

"would-" your mouth sticks together but you push the words forward, "would you be okay if we went to sleep right now?"

you didn't want to ruin anything more than you already did. knowing yourself, you probably confused him. you knew he had feelings for rosie but damn it if you didn't try at least. now look at where it's got you.

you don't see him nod, only feeling the bed dip as he moves off of you and moving to lay down in front of you. he gives your arm a nudge and when you move it, he leans into you, curling into your side as he gives you no room to think. all you could think about was him.

breathing in his hair, you smelt the shampoo from before, the slight smell from the rink, and then the damp feeling of sweat stick to his hair.

yeah, you would need to shower again in the morning. and yeah, you'd probably need to talk about this again. but couldn't you at least enjoy the way he can't seem to leave you alone? Can't you relish in the fact that he wants to be near you and not her. letting you mark him up. you could enjoy it, if not for a second. for the moment, you could enjoy the feel of him grounding you.

as for him, he doesn't know how much luckier he can get. so as your breaths slow in between, he sticks his head into the crook of your neck, just breathing you in and relishing the close proximity he has once again.

he may not have gotten to bury himself inside you but this is fine all on its own, head feeling light from how close you are together.

he presses a kiss to your skin before letting himself sleep in your arms.

(you almost cry when you felt his lips against your collarbone. wondering if this is the modern version of torture and who's administering them from above.)

...

taglist: @fxnxtical @ghostburlovebot @ollie-overscore @roygbivvie @beehive-syst3m @boiled-onionrings @mayempress @bringm3th3n1rvana @yui-san0 @comonlokbut2 @lurkey-lurker @tiredofsatansbullshit @serendipityryn @facelessmatchstick @sewagespaghetti @dogsandrocketsocks @unhelpfulghosty @struggling-with-time

#c: simpbur #simpbur #simpbur x reader #simpbur x y/n #simpbur x you #au: college #simpbur smut #<- just incase

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yoonpobs · 3 years

Text

bad boy good thing xv. | m

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: oral (m receiving), jk and oc in their feelings :c, fluff n cuteness tbh

words: 7, 816

summary: a series of drabbles where you’re confused and jungkook’s confusing

a/n:

im so sorry for the late update but it's finally here!!! it's been a hectic few weeks w my exam preparation coming right around the corner too :c

anyway!!!! we've got some smut after a while 👀so for visual purposes pls imagine jk from the butter mv, specifically his hair and eyebrow piercing ...

i hope you enjoy this chapter !!!

Safety was a very important aspect of your life. Everything that you did, you always weighed the realistic possibilities of you regretting your decision; mind running at one hundred miles per hour while you drew a mental mind map of every possible outcome you could possibly predict. It was exhausting to have your mind immediately come up with worst-case scenarios where the risk was realistically a meagre five per cent against the other ninety-five, but you were a chronic overthinker by nature.

You steered far from doing things that would end up causing more harm to you and your environment because you knew that there was no actual reason why you could justify getting completely wasted at a party. If it was for fun—surely, you’d vehemently oppose that the next morning.

Your friends, or even anyone who knew of you; always lamented you for your tendency to remain in your bubble. You knew that overall, you were an overthinker and that most of the time—nothing of what you conjured would actually happen purely because, well—your friends are still alive, and so were you. You just missed out on ‘fun’.

But old habits died hard. Maybe that was why the most reckless and impulsive thing that you did—was with Jungkook.

Out of all your friends, Jungkook was the one person that really did whatever he could get his hands, feet or body to do.

He was very determined by nature and a natural daredevil at that. You remember on multiple occasions where he and his family went on a family vacation, and he came back with stories of his adventures swinging from the top of a cliff upside down, getting a snake to wrap itself around his neck—and by far the most impulsive one, returning with a small tattoo of said snake on the back of his neck.

Jungkook was so unpredictable that neither of your friends could ever tell what he’d do next. And you supposed that added to his charm, but it didn’t take away from the five stages of absolute shock that you’d go through when you witness another one of his unpredictable tendencies.

Like right now.

“Please say something,” he laughs nervously, scratching the back of his neck while you can only gape at him.

“Purple.” You blurt.

He blinks before his eyes dart upwards as his finger twiddles a few strands of hair between them.

“Yeah,” he hums, “It looks a little blue in some lights, though.”

You nod your head slowly, still processing what is probably the lesser surprising one between the two things that have you double-taking at his figure when you first greeted him at your door.

“That’s … not all,” you say slowly.

Jungkook offers you a lopsided grin that stirs something in your belly, and you don’t know if it’s his hair, or the fact that he’s starting to wear shorter sleeves as the weather begins to get hotter; his tattoos on display as it trails upon his arm—or if it was because of the—

“Eyebrow piercing?” He raises a brow, particularly the one with the eyebrow piercing as it glints under the natural sunlight that filters in the hallway, “So. Do you like it?” He asks, smile still small as he leans in for you to get a better look.

Your breath hitches when his face gets closer, but not enough for it to be insinuative in any way. It was just you and your weak-willed nature whenever it came to Jungkook. You hoped that he wasn’t able to see the way that your ears undoubtedly redden under the proximity.

“What matters is if you like it, Jungkook,” you remind him softly, shyly looking down to your feet.

He sighs, resting an arm against your doorway in a way that makes him look as large as the width of your door. His gaze is still calm and steady, lips curled ever so slightly as he rests his eyes on you.

“I know. But I care if you like it or not,” he retorts.

You scoff, waving him off, but a small grin still threatens itself onto your face.

“Well you shouldn’t,” you huff.

“Why not?” He hums as he cards a hand through his hair. Even if it’s a bright colour and you’re sure that it required copious amounts of bleach and hours at the salon to get the final result—it still looks soft when he swifts through the locks.

“Because,” you lull, “My opinion doesn’t matter. If you like it and you think it’s pretty then that’s more than enough.”

He clicks his tongue against his cheek before his eyes dart down. You’re still avoiding his gaze because you weren’t ready to have your senses assaulted with the way he’s crowding you in the doorway of your own home.

“You’re trying really hard not to compliment me right now,” he teases.

“I am not!” You splutter, ears turning red. Your eyes dart to your feet. “… but if it matters then … I like it. It’s pretty.”

Jungkook’s grin is nothing short of wide when his head reaches out to smooth your hair out of your face that forces you to look up at him. You attempt to keep your heart beat at bay, even if the way he looks pleased with your futile trial of complimenting him. In reality, you thought it looked more than just pretty. Jungkook looked … hot. He was already attractive as he was, and his confident yet quiet nature made him exponentially hotter—but his long, purple hair and the new eyebrow piercing just made him even sexier.

“It matters.” He smiles, cocking his head to the side as you bashfully step aside to allow him to enter your apartment.

He settles in like he’s the missing piece to the lonely nights you spend on your dining table studying away for a test or an exam. And you suppose that Jungkook’s always fit right in, wherever you were. He was a comfortable presence in your life, even when the two of you were in high school and he’d come over for tutoring lessons. Or when it’d be just you and him in your mother’s car while you taught him how to drive.

Jungkook’s somehow always filled in the other seat in your life when there called for two. Even when you note that he still sits on one foot while the other hangs off the couch, a habit he’s had since he was young, or the way that he’s still stupidly polite not to sprawl himself across your couch like Jimin and Taehyung did whenever they were over. Jungkook’s always been there and you were always there to see.

“So … what’s up?” His voice interrupts the daydream that got you a little more soft than you’d like. You shake your head as you shut the door behind you, turning around to fully face Jungkook.

“The ceiling?” You reply lamely, a soft chuckle escaping your lips when you see him roll his eyes.

“Ha ha,” he mocks, “I meant if there was anything you wanted to talk about. You know—since you texted me to come over.” He finishes with a raise of his brow.

You still as your brain processes his words. You did text him first. You had just finished a lengthy meeting with the student union and didn’t feel like studying just yet—and you just so happened to have been thinking about Jungkook when you caught a glimpse of your phone (when were you not).

You didn’t have a reason, even if your conscience would argue that you did and it was because you missed him. Even if you were the one that needed time. Your heart and mind wanted two different things, but they both revolved around Jungkook. So, you compromised and settled for a simple text.

“I don’t know,” you mumble, shuffling towards your couch as you plop in the loveseat across from him.

He ogles the way that you chose a seat that wasn’t the one that he was sat on. He doesn’t point it out, though. Instead, a firm line settles on his lips before he leans back to your couch, eyes still trained on your figure.

“You don’t need to sound so shy,” he says, “I’ll always come if you’re the one that’s asking.”

Your eyes widen when your head darts up. When you look at him, you swear that you’d melt because he was looking at you with mirth dancing in his eyes. The somewhat dim lighting of your living room made him look so … cosy. He looked more comfortable, probably knowing that you weren’t going to nag at him for manspreading at the way you can only stare. You don’t know if it’s on purpose but you’re sure it is—but Jungkook’s eyebrow piercing is strategically exposed when he raises a brow, flicking his bangs aside. Your brain short-circuits.

“It’s not—I’m not—I’m not …” You stutter when he catches you looking like a deer caught in headlights. But all he does is let out a deep chuckle before reaching an arm out.

You stare at the arm that extends itself, eyes trailing up the limb as you gawk at his tattoos. He wasn’t one to flaunt, even though he didn’t pretend like he didn’t have any. So even your friends didn’t catch much of his tattoos unless he was at the gym or changing during practices with the way he practically lived in long sleeves. But now, it was just you and him, in your living room while he practically invites you over with his smile and doe eyes.

“Come ere’,” he mumbles as you continue to stare, “Next to me, please.”

You blink a few times when you realise that he’s beckoning you over with the arm that’s extended. You buffer for a second when he continues to smile at you with that easy grin of his, the one that’s both able to calm you and reduce you into a mess of nerves. But after a few beats, your limbs start moving at their own accord as you push yourself off the couch, slowly inching towards Jungkook and the empty spot next to him where you plop down into.

“Here?” You ask softly.

He laughs, and it’s a nice sound. Your mind had been muffled ever since he first showed up with that new hairstyle of his and that Godforsaken eyebrow piercing, and now when he looks at you like you were the only thing that he’s ever wanted—your heart can’t take it.

“Closer.” He encourages with a tilt of his head. Then, he delivers the final blow. “Just wanna hold you.”

You freeze, hands stilling on the plush of your couch as you were about to shift closer. The words are still processing in your mind even if you knew exactly what he said and what he meant. The heat on your face was definitely proof of that.

“Oh my God, don’t just say that!” You cry, burying your head into the back of the couch when you turn away from him.

Jungkook’s still laughing at you, hands clutching his stomach instead of trying to reach out for you as you whine into the fabric. He was killing you and your poor heart, and he was doing a damn good job at it. He didn’t need to do much because his presence was always enough to reduce you to absolutely nothing and a pile of mush.

It was this ambiguous back and forth that you’ve settled into with Jungkook after your last serious conversation that had your heart weaker and softer than ever. Every moment you spent with him, even in the crowd of your friends—you knew what you wanted. But there was still an irrational (and insecure) part of you that wanted to wait. To see if he actually meant his confession or was he driven by desperation to keep a friend close.

You should’ve had faith in Jungkook the way he blindly and willingly put in you. Even if you were the more unstable one between the two of you. But your mind worked endlessly to remind you of what the two of you shared, and who you had to share him with—and how she was everything that you weren’t.

“I’m sorry!” He laughs, and you feel a hand reach around your waist to tug you upwards as you squeak at his show of strength. “Was that too much?” He asks softly when you’re facing him, face definitely still flushed as you avoid his face and opt to stare at the chain around his neck.

Even that was making your insides feel funny.

“No …” You mumble, leaning forward until your forehead is pressed against his chest as his fingers drum against your waist. “I’m just shy.”

He chuckles.

“You don’t have to be shy.” He tells you, “It’s just me.”

You blink up and narrow your eyes at him.

“That’s not fair! You can’t just turn up to my house looking like—that—and expect me to be fine!” You huff, gesturing towards his entire frame as he simply listens with an amused raise of his brow.

He tilts his head to the side and even has the audacity to look confused when he smirks at you.

“Me? What did I do? It’s just hair dye and a piercing.”

You huff.

“It’s just hair dye and a piercing,” you repeat in a low voice, clearly meant to represent him as his face scrunches adorably at your impression of him.

“That’s not how I sound like.” He deadpans.

You stick your chin up snootily with a satisfied smile.

“You so do. You sound that dumb with what you just said.” You retort petulantly.

Jungkook stares at you for one long second before he’s pulling you flush against his chest with a wide grin on his face as he attempts to smother you with his arm. You squeal when you feel his fingers around your waist as he squeezes the flesh. He manoeuvres his way around your body until you’re perched on his lap, hands reaching out against his chest so that you could establish some distance (which you fail miserably at).

The room is filled with your gasps and Jungkook’s cackles, and with the way he’s crowding your body with his own—all you can smell is Jungkook. He smells fresh, as always. Especially since he chooses to opt-out of cologne and pays favourable attention to the type of laundry detergent, body wash and shampoo that he uses that gives him the boyish, clean and charming natural scent that he has. And it drives you insane.

So when you look up at him through your lashes in a break when Jungkook’s heaving at how he’s attempted to tickle you, and all you can see is how good he looks with his purple hair paired with the way he unconsciously licks at his lips to wet them; and the eyebrow piercing and tattoos. You melt—and so does your filter.

“Can I suck your dick?”

Granted, that isn’t a question you pose after he’s just tickled you in good faith while giggling away with his doe-eyes, or even the way his hands are placed at a respectful distance away from your bum. And it definitely isn’t a question that Jungkook’s expecting because his eyes shoot wide open, while his foot kicks up hard enough that it crashes against your coffee table.

“W-What?!” He cries, hands gripping your shoulder to push you away so that he can get a proper look at your face.

And it’s on fire.

But you can’t take back your words, especially when Jungkook’s looking like he demands some sort of explanation.

“I—I …” You stutter but your body is lax in his, and your thighs are still straddling Jungkook’s. You aren’t stupid or that naive, so you definitely know the firmness that presses against your inner thigh is a sign that he’s not opposed to your proposition.

Before you can say anything with how your mouth fails you, Jungkook snaps up until your foreheads nearly crash against each other as he presses his palms against your cheeks, staring you intently in the eye until you’re squirming under the scrutiny.

“I don’t hate it.” He assures you softly, but his eyebrows are furrowed. “But I need to hear it from you that you know what you’re saying.”

You blink at him and all Jungkook does is wait for you patiently. What were you saying? That you wanted to suck his dick? You did. You wanted to do a lot of things to and with Jungkook. Curse him for turning up looking the way he did and meddling with your restraint on needing time. But there was a brewing feeling of need in your chest that wants to please Jungkook, that wants to see him quiver under your tongue the way he has had you before. They weren’t all pleasant memories, purely because your poor heart has had to fight to disassociate your feelings from pleasure when you couldn’t do it.

But you’ve never made Jungkook feel good, at least in the way he was able to do for you.

“I-I—” you mumble, eyes darting everywhere but Jungkook’s gaze doesn’t waver at all. You take a deep breath, nibbling on your lips as your eyes dart up to the ceiling before they return to his face. He’s still waiting. “I want to. I really do.” You assure him, your own hands reaching out to clutch at his collar.

Jungkook’s cock twitches in his pants, and you feel it. You give an experimental swivel of your hips because you know it must feel good for Jungkook. And it does with the way his breath hitches, but his hands leave your face to grab at your hips to stop your motions. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, but all Jungkook does is sigh.

“You don’t have to …” he whispers, “I—you said you needed time and I don’t want to ruin this. What we have.”

You purse your lips.

“I know I said I needed time but I want to, Jungkook,” you tell him seriously, “What happened before was a product of our miscommunication but it’s different now,” your eyes are firm when they stare into his, your face leaning forward for emphasis, “Unless you don’t want me to—”

“Baby, no,” he reaches out to pull you closer to his chest, “I do. God—I can’t think of anything else but … I don’t want to fuck this up.” His eyes flutter shut as he rests his forehead against your breast bone. It’s not sexual at all, and you can hear the genuine frustration that laces Jungkook’s voice.

“You won’t,” you say softly, reaching a hand through his hair, “I want to learn. I want to learn how to make you feel good too.” You whisper.

Jungkook releases a low groan that makes your stomach clench in desire. You realise that throughout the escapades that the two of you have engaged in, you were the vocal one purely in the sense that you were whining, moaning and sobbing in pleasure at Jungkook’s doing. But Jungkook was vocal in the way he spoke to you. Even if it was mean and you found yourself crying after it happened because he pretended that you didn’t exist—there was something about the way he guides you through your highs in that raspy voice of his that made you cum harder each time.

“You’re serious?” He asks, finally looking up to confirm with you.

You nod your head.

“Dead.”

He nibbles on his lips, as his eyebrows scrunch in focus. He was heavily contemplating your offer and even if you never propositioned any male to suck his dick before, you’ve never heard of a case where they’d be hesitant to receive one. But you and Jungkook were different. You knew what you felt for him, and he knew what he felt for you—and somehow that made your odd request all the more important for the both of you.

“We’ll be okay, right?” He asks hesitantly, afraid. Your eyes soften as you nod.

“I want this, Jungkook.” You tell him again, and you’d repeat it as much as you can for him to know.

He sighs deeply.

“If at any point you feel … overwhelmed … just say the word and we’ll stop, okay?” He says, holding you by the shoulder while he hardens his eyes at you in seriousness. You nod your head as you scramble off his lap in a motion fast enough that Jungkook can’t process it.

Before the both of you know it, you’re on your knees, settled in between his legs as you peer up at him. Your heart was thundering in your chest because you had no idea what the fuck you were doing, but you wanted to do this. All because of that damn hair and piercing of his.

“Your knees,” he murmurs, attempting to tug you up but you’re stubborn when you stay rooted in position, eyebrows furrowed in determination as your jaw ticks.

“Isn’t this how it goes?”

“They’re going to hurt,” he points out.

You roll your eyes before narrowing them at him.

“Do you usually complain this much before you get your dick sucked or what?” You snap, patience wearing awfully thin.

Jungkook’s eyes widen at your blunt statement, especially when you reach out to rest your palms on his thighs.

“I don’t mean …” he mumbles, hands gripping the couch because he’s too afraid to touch you, “It’s not like that and you know it.”

You sigh, leaning your cheek against his kneecap and he feels his heart go into overdrive. It was different, with you. This wasn’t just another girl that wanted to suck his dick for his approval or whatever—this was the girl of his dreams, readily waiting to learn how he liked it. Though he’d argue that he’d like anything you do to him because his love-glasses blinded him that way. But there was still fear ebbing away at his heart, terrified at screwing it up even if you were the proposer in this case.

“Jungkook, I’m not going to disappear on you after this,” you say softly, still peering up at him, “I want this.”

Your heart tightens when he hesitantly reaches out to rest a hand between strands of your hair as he tilts your head upwards. Something about just sitting between his legs as they sprawl out wider to accommodate your body seems do domestic and intimate. Even the context of the situation makes you tingle from your fingertips all the way to your toes—you were here to learn, from Jungkook; on what he liked and didn’t.

You didn’t plan this. Admittedly you and Yena have talked on more than one occasion about how you really wanted to sleep with Jungkook—you didn’t have a timeline for it. It felt weird to put a date to it so you shoved the thoughts aside even if they popped up every once in a while. This just so happened to be one of those moments where your mind ventures into a more explicit territory whenever you were with Jungkook.

“I know you need time but …” his eyes flutter shut before he leans his head back into the seat—eyes staring up at the ceiling as if he was searching for answers that he didn’t have with himself. You wait because you suppose that’s the least you could do when you made him wait for you while you attempted to deal with your own feelings. When he looks down, his eyes are gentle yet resolute, “You know I love you, right?”

He sounds nervous even if he’s said it before. But the words don’t fail to make you flush or evoke the tremble in your ribcage—a signal from your body that tells you that it’s only Jeon Jungkook that could ever make you feel this way.

“God,” you huff, but the corners of your lip twitch and that’s enough to tell Jungkook that you did. You knew. “Can you teach me? Please?”

You’re pressing forward again, eagerly shifting on your knees as Jungkook takes one long look at you as if he was memorising this image to eternity. When he decides he’s satisfied, he rests into the seat before gently coaxing your hands away from his thighs and towards his—

“Start here,” he guides with a low voice, large palm encasing your smaller ones as you feel the metal of his zipper come into contact with your skin.

You blush, but you were an overachiever for a reason. The potential embarrassment of fumbling is tucked away in your mind, your only concern and fascination lie with the fact that Jungkook’s already hard that you feel him brush against your wrist.

“Don’t you need to get hard?” You ask softly.

Jungkook blinks before he’s giving you that devastating smile of his, the one where only one corner of his lips turn up into an amused grin while you tilt your head at him in an inquisitive manner.

“I’m really hard right now,” he assures you; and to prove his point, his hand guides yours over the outline of his cock. You gasp because it’s the first time you’ve felt anything but your own intimates in your grasp.

You involuntarily squeeze your thighs together, appreciating the way that Jungkook’s beginning to bite on his lips while he focuses his attention purely on you. You knew just from feeling alone that Jungkook was not your averagely-sized male.

“O-Oh,” you breathe when your hands begin to work at their own accord—slowly unbuttoning his jeans, working your way down the zipper. The entire time, you’re occasionally looking up for any signs of approval from Jungkook, the resolved student in you needing appraisal from your teacher. And he picks up on your prompts, smiling at you gently even as his breath begins to turn uneven at the way you’re still gently pulling his pants down.

“You’re doing great,” his hand cards through your hair until his thumb reaches your cheek, rubbing a gentle motion to be paired with his words.

You smile to yourself, feeling more confident to tug his jeans down his thighs. You knew that Jungkook was well-built, it was a fact given that he was an athlete who frequented the gym more than any place on campus. He had impeccable stamina, even before he took football seriously—but the way that his thighs clench under your clammy hands only prove your point. But all you can really focus on is the outline of his cock from his boxers.

“Can I …?” You ask hesitantly, reaching out to tug at the hem of his boxers.

Before you can do anything, his hand stops your wrist as you immediately pause in your ministrations. Your eyes widen, fully ready to pull away in case you did something wrong. What if he didn’t like it? What if he changed his mind or that you were bad—?

“Stop thinking,” he chides, “I want this. I love your hands, anything that you do,” he whispers in reassurance as you swallow. “How about you feel me first? Over the boxers. Baby steps.”

You exhale, nodding your head as your hand reaches to cup his length in your hand. You gasp in tandem with Jungkook, feeling the heat radiate from his dick as you give an experimental squeeze. You look up to gauge his reaction, and you suppose it’s good with the way his breath hitches. He doesn’t say anything and you take that as your cue to continue, your hand squeezing tighter upwards, right before your thumb rubs over what you think is the tip.

“It’s wet,” you blurt.

You’re about to hastily apologise because who the hell points that out before giving someone a blowjob?

“Yeah,” he releases a shaky breath, “I’m so hard right now you have no idea.” He laughs, throwing his head back.

You don’t say anything else, but you continue to work your way up and down his length over the cloth—and for some reason, you feel like it never ends. The heat from his cock, the stirring in your belly or the wetness that begins to accumulate between your own thighs. His hand rests in your hair in a gentle way, simply remaining there as he allows you to have your way on his cock.

That realisation makes you feel the need to go further, so you do. You squeeze until you reach the base of his cock, and you feel the outline of his balls. You briefly read online that some guys liked it when you squeezed—so you did. And Jungkook nearly lurches forward and knees you in the face when you do.

“Fuck, baby,” he chokes in a laugh.

“Sorry,” you mumble, but your heart isn’t there when you grin in satisfaction to yourself. The term of endearment doesn’t fall onto deaf ears either, and it shoots straight to your core.

Deciding that you weren’t happy with just fondling him above his boxers, in one swift motion; said fabric now drapes over his thighs and you’re welcomed with the sight of Jungkook’s engorged cock staring you straight in the face.

You assume it’s bad taste to just stare at someone’s intimates as if you were dissecting the anatomy right as you were about to get down to business. But you couldn’t help it. Jungkook had such a … pretty looking cock. You don’t know if penises could look aesthetic nor were you going to be superficial and say that penises should look a certain way. But he had such a pretty cock and it only made you want to shove it all the way down your throat. But your inexperience tells you to relax because you weren’t about to embarrass yourself like that.

“Do you … hate it?” Jungkook asks tentatively.

He wasn’t particularly an insecure person. He knew he was good looking and had a great body—he worked hard for it! But that’s because he never cared about anyone and what they had to say enough for it to affect his self-confidence. But you were the one person that he’s sought for validation ever since he was just a teenage boy, before the muscles and the confidence he’s developed over the years.

Especially when he was so hard that he thinks he’s going to bust a nut the second your mouth touches his cock—the way that you’re staring only makes him anxious.

“You’re really big,” you tell him, eyes peering up, “And pretty.”

Jungkook blushes. He can’t believe it but the fact that he’s the one that’s flustered when you were the ‘inexperienced’ one only goes to show how whipped he was. He almost laughs, but your hand is touching his bare cock and he nearly chokes at the firm grip you immediately take. He really almost laughs, because even now—you were a quick learner, an observant student who already probably knew what he liked.

Your hands twist upwards when you jerk him off, and Jungkook tries his best to keep his hips at bay even if he’s letting out low groans the tighter you squeeze. Your eyes occasionally dart up to observe his reactions, and you’re pleased to see that his mouth is slightly agape whenever his breathless pants leave them. You didn’t know that pleasuring someone else could feel this fulfilling for yourself—but you liked it. You liked the way he felt in your hand, the precum that oozes out from his tip that taints your fingers—and you especially liked the way his head is thrown back while the grip in your hair tightens simultaneously.

“You could spit on it,” his shaky voice interrupts your mental dialogue as you look up at him. He cocks his chin towards his cock as you were hyper-focused on his length. You note that you barely could wrap your fists around him and that you needed the help of both hands.

“Would you like that?” You ask.

He nods.

“It chafes when it’s dry,” he points out.

You open your mouth in acknowledgement as you nod your head slowly. You remember when he had spit on your pussy, and even if it was in the heat of the moment and you were already wet enough—you liked it. But you also note that the way you’re jerking him off his dry so you rev the spit up in the back of your throat before you lean forward, allowing the glob of spit to drop down his cock.

The breathless groan that he lets out immediately shoots to your core as you peer up at him. He’s already looking at you do, and you feel compelled to shoot him a small smile. And when you do, he groans even if your hands have momentarily stilled as you raise a brow at his reaction.

“How are you still so cute,” he huffs.

You blink.

“Are you really calling me cute right before I’m about to suck your dick?�� You deadpan.

He sighs, but his hand rubs a gentle circle on your head.

“It’s a good thing,” he promises, “Can’t you feel how hard I am right now? You could breathe near my dick and I’d probably nut.”

You snort, even if the compliment is super boyish and very Jungkook—you feel your heart swell. You’re both terrified and how you’re reacting to his simple words, but the cheesy grin he sends you from above only makes your stomach feel lighter and your heart soar higher.

“So how do you like it?” You ask.

It’s a little too odd to be having this conversation as your hand continues to work lazily on Jungkook’s cock. He seems to not mind, especially when his hips occasionally buck upwards to chase the feeling. He blinks in an attempt to focus on your query and not how good your hand feels around him, even if it’s in a rest.

“How about you just start with the tip?” He suggests.

You nod your head before you lean forward, and you don’t know if Jungkook feels it—but your heartbeat is beating rapidly against your chest. You’re not … scared, but you’re also a little scared. Mostly because it’s a foreign territory and you’re unsure how it’d taste (even if Yena warned you from having high hopes). But Jungkook ate relatively healthy and drank a lot of water; and worked out regularly.

You finally kiss the tip, and Jungkook just about melts, cock twitching at the contact as you stick your tongue out to take a tentative lick of the precum that oozes out from his hip. It’s not pleasant, nor is it anything to puke over. You’re partial to it, mostly because you’re super turned on and you like the way that Jungkook seems to be eagerly waiting while his other fist that isn’t in your hair grabs at the couch in anticipation.

You don’t intend to be that erotic, but you don’t break eye contact even when you envelop the tip into your mouth. It’s the widest part of Jungkook, and it’s already a pleasant stretch to your lips when you run your tongue on the underside of his cockhead.

“Y-You sure you n-need me to—ah—teach you?” He asks breathlessly when you use your free hand to jerk the base of his cock.

You hum around his length, and Jungkook groans in tandem, hips jerking upwards in response as you feel his cock briefly drag against the roof of your mouth. He’s about to apologise, especially when he leans forward, but you briefly release him to shake your head.

“I’m a big girl,” you tell him with a grin.

Jungkook chuckles before resting back. He can’t quite believe that you’re on your knees right in front of him, sucking his dick like an obedient student. It’s eerily similar to many of his high school wet dreams, and it probably exceeds them with the way you’re sucking him back into your mouth; slowly inching your way further until you’re halfway down.

Your mouth is hot, and in fact—a dream. It’s probably the fact that it’s you that Jungkook feels all his senses be elevated in a way he’s never felt before. It was the way that his heart soars in his chest while his stomach caves in when he feels your tongue swipe under his shaft.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he croons, hand carding tenderly through your hair, “Be careful of your teeth.” He adds on when he feels the scrape of them against his cock.

He didn’t hate it, but he rather enjoys the softness of your mouth without the fear of you chewing his dick off.

You look up at him apologetically, but he only returns it with a half-hearted smile—purely because your hand is working its way on what you can’t fit into your mouth just yet. You’re an impeccable learner, and Jungkook thinks that he didn’t need to guide you at all with the way you’re doing everything just right. Or maybe it’s his love-sick mind that makes everything feel infinitely better. Maybe other guys wouldn’t like it—but his heart only drops when the thought arrives. He wanted to be the only person that could feel your mouth this way.

Your tongue is working hard when it continues to slobber against his cock. And he doesn’t know if you’re doing it on purpose, but you’re messy when you vacuum your cheeks—spit pooling at the sides of your mouth when you bob your head up and down. All Jungkook can feel is your mouth, and beads of sweat are already accumulating at his hairline while his breathing turns uneven with the only things escaping his lips are moans and groans.

You’re enjoying the way that Jungkook looks like he’s slowly losing control of himself and his tongue. All he’s doing is moaning, even the grip in your hair tightens when he unconsciously pushes your head further down on his cock. You realised that sucking dick wasn’t that theoretical as you thought it was. You were simply observant, gauged what made Jungkook’s breath hitch, what he didn’t react much to—and you knew for a fact that he appreciated the slobber.

And the spit. And the squelches of your lips meeting his cock. You did, too. It’s almost embarrassing to admit, but you were drenched just by observing Jungkook’s reactions. That only spurs you on further when you work harder, hand reaching down to cup his balls as you hear Jungkook release a breathy whimper. The sound immediately shoots to your core as you let out a moan of your own.

“Fuck,” he gasps, “You’re fucking evil.”

He’s breathlessly laughing, but you don’t let it hinder your actions. If anything, his words drive you further when you push his cock further into the cavern of your mouth, the gasp leaving his lips a sign that he probably didn’t expect that. You feel his stomach clench when you continue to bob your head up and down, and you’re giving yourself a mental pat on the back at the way you’re able to labour your own breathing through your nose. You were a natural if you did say so yourself.

“M’ gonna cum,” he mumbles through a moan, hand tightening around your hair as you take that as a sign to squeeze his balls harder. His hips jerk, hitting the back of your throat that has you briefly gagging around his cock. The visual and the sound sends Jungkook into overdrive, his balls feeling heavier by the second and in desperate need of release. He wants to apologise, but you don’t seem to mind with the way you continue to hollow your cheeks and function around his length.

“Where can I—fuck—where can I cum?” He rushes his words out, shallowly thrusting into your mouth as you hum around his cock.

He pulls out by pushing you back with a firm palm on your shoulder as your eyes widen, and when he’s shooting ropes of cum onto your face as it drips down your neck. You weren’t sure if he was supposed to cum that much, but it keeps on coming as you sit there obediently with your mouth open, in case it lands anywhere else. Jungkook’s groaning above you as he jerks himself off through the last bits of his orgasm, his hazy eyes darkening further when he spots the white that paints your face.

“I thought guys liked it if we swallowed?” You tilt your head to the side and Jungkook thinks he’s about to die.

“You’re actually going to kill me if you do that. So no. Not today.” He snorts, relaxing back into the couch as his post-nut clarity starts to hit him. He stares at the ceiling, feeling immensely satiated.

“This is like a facial at the spa,” you mention off-handedly as you climb up between his thighs, cum still staining your face. And Jungkook can’t believe it, but he thinks you look so cute painted with his cum. It’s a primal instinct the way that his eyes linger longer, feeling territorial with the way that he’s the only one that gets to see you like this.

“You’re so weird,” he snickers but you pout at him. And you do the next thing that gives Jungkook a heart attack.

Your tongue swipes over your lips where some cum remains, and even if his cock is flaccid—he feels it twitch in interest.

“Not bad. A little salty but overall … meh,” you shrug your shoulders as Jungkook gawks at you.

“You …” he trails off, “God.”

You smile up at him, all innocent as if you didn’t just give him the suck of his life—as your first time sucking dick.

“So? How was it?” You ask eagerly, leaning into his chest. He wants to ask about the cum that’s drying on your face, but you don’t seem to mind. You were so weird, but that only makes his heart grow fonder.

“Do you conduct feedback sessions after every blowjob?” He asks sarcastically.

You roll your eyes, “Do you want me to? I mean—I could offer my services elsewhere—”

Jungkook pinches your hip in retaliation, the insinuation making him growl as you snicker. He can only stare at you in amusement, especially when you’re still grinning up at him. Gone was the shy girl that proposed this, even if he noticed the flush on your cheeks and on the tip of your ears. It was insane how you took a one-eighty, but Jungkook appreciated it. He appreciated you.

“Ten out of ten. Magnificent. Absolutely life-changing. Thought I saw the gates of heaven for a second.” He teases.

You roll your eyes but a small smile appears on your face as you glance down to fiddle with your fingers. Jungkook can only stare at you, and he can’t fully describe this feeling but his heart feels so … full. So completed, even if you sucked his dick. He’s always felt this way, but there was something about you being wrapped in his arms after you had his dick in your mouth that made Jungkook go crazy. Crazy enough for him to blurt out the next thing on his mind.

“I want to be with you.” He blurts.

Your eyes dart up in shock as they widen. But Jungkook is as resolute as ever, a dopey grin still on his face.

“W-What?” You stutter.

He reaches for your hand, still slightly sticky with the slick from his cock but he doesn’t care. Not when you intertwine your fingers with his so seamlessly, so easily like you were meant to do so.

“I want to be with you. In whatever way you want to have me.” He murmurs, peering straight into your eyes.

Your heart stutters in your chest as you try to find the words to respond with. But you can’t. Your mind is still recovering from what you just did, and your heart is soaring. But there’s a part of you that’s hesitant. You knew it was unfair, for making Jungkook wait—but you were still scared. You were scared that he’d get bored of you, or what the two of you share one day. He may be ready to leave it all behind, but you don’t think you could deal with having to say goodbye to Jungkook in that way.

And it’s as if he can read your hesitation, he brings your intertwined hands to his lips before pressing a kiss to your knuckles, eyes still soft when they remain on your frozen state,

“I’ll wait,” he says softly, “For as long as you need me to. Until you’re ready.”

“J-Jungkook …” you mumble, flustered when you look away.

He nudges his nose against your cheek, pressing a smile to your jaw as you hum in embarrassment.

“I fucked up.” He says. You’re about to interrupt but he seems to have his own things to say. “I said things that hurt you. I did things that hurt you and I can’t ever forgive myself for that. I know you’re not punishing me and I never once thought that way. Even if that isn’t the case, the least I can do is wait. Not only because of what I did but because no matter what—I want to do this right this time.”

He looks up to you and his gaze is so earnest that it makes the words get trapped in your throat while you stare at him.

He smiles, soft and gentle when he rubs a thumb across your cheek.

“I’m serious about this. About you. Even if you decide that you don’t want this or that your feelings have changed … I’ll still be here.”

Jungkook takes your breath away as you gape at him. The silence he leaves you with only makes you reaffirm your stance on how you feel for him. Yet, you can’t give him an answer now. Not when your mind still remains hesitant, and Jungkook didn’t deserve hesitant. Even if he’s hurt you—he didn’t deserve your confusion. Neither of you did.

You lean into him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. It’s intimate this way, the way that his cum dries on your face and that his dick is still out. It’s almost funny, but Jungkook wouldn’t have it any other way. He’d wait—for as long as he had to. And he’d do it over and over again, for you.

#bad boy good thing #bbgt #bts #bts fics #bts series #bts angst #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook series

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jungshookz · 4 years

Note

omg it’s me again i just thought of sth and only you can make it so good;; EMT seokjiN and this prompt i saw sth like “will you stop flirting with me? you just got seriously injured and I’m the emt trying to tend to your wounds, i don’t give a fuck that i look cute when i’m concerned, you’re lucky you’re not dead you dipshit”

➺ pairing; emt!seokjin x reader

➺ genre; sfw!! namjoon is clumsy!! y/n is particularly cheeky that even i was like :0!! and handsome seokjin is simply handsome!!

➺ wordcount; 4.9k

➺ what to expect; “i’m just checking out your pupils, darling. trust me. you’ll know when i’m about to kiss you.”

➺ note; i thought i’d kick off the christmas with cee event with a jin drabble seeing as it was recently his birthday!! also i hope this drabble pumps you UP for the other drabbles that’ll be posted this month <3 happy deceember!!

»»————-　❄　————-««

“i just don’t think this is a super good idea, you know?” namjoon mutters sheepishly, looking down at you while you busy yourself with tightening his laces, “i mean, i can barely walk three steps without tripping over a normal floor, so i don’t know if me on ice is going to be any better-”

“oh, will you please give it a break? i’ve got you!” you get up off the ground before dusting your knees off, “besides, you were the one who said you wanted to try ice-skating - and it’s not like the ice skating rink is as steep as a mountain or anything. it’s all nice and flat! see?” you gesture towards the zamboni currently making its rounds on the ice, “and we came here just in time for a nice, clean layer of ice for us to skate on. there’s nothing that could go wrong!”

“nothing that could go wrong?!” namjoon gawks, hoisting his foot up so he can rest his ankle across his knee, “look at this thing, y/n! what kind of a shoe is this?” he taps his fingernail against the metal blade before quickly retracting his hand and shuddering, “these things are literal weapons- why can’t i just skate without the skates?”

“because that... wouldn’t be ice-skating anymore? that’d just be... ice-walking. and your sneakers won’t do you any good on the ice, anyway,” you shake your head before shrugging, “the blades are supposed to help you, like- they get a… solid grip on the ice and it helps you move around better, you know? something like that.”

namjoon scoffs and leans back on the bench, “please explain to me how a thin metal blade is supposed to get a solid grip on ice-”

“look, the offer to get you one of those little kiddie things for you to hold onto still stands.” you point over to the front counter, “they have one that looks like a penguin! it’s adorable! i mean, i think it’s a little shorter than your knees so you might have to crouch down a little if i get one for you-”

“wha-” namjoon immediately frowns before crossing his arms, “y/n, i am a grown man. i don’t need to hold onto a penguin-”

“okay, suit yourself!” you chirp, sticking your hand out for him, “c’mon, you manly man. i wanna get on the ice! i’ve been waiting all week for this-”

namjoon grumbles curses under his breath as he pushes himself up off the bench

penguin

he doesn’t need a penguin!

how dare you!!!!!

you can’t help but giggle as you watch him waddle towards you, being very careful not to fall over and twist an ankle

admittedly, bringing namjoon to an ice skating rink probably wasn’t the best idea

one time he sprained his ankle after tripping over literally nothing and he had to use a crutch for like two weeks

he’s verY susceptible to injuries

when he first brought up the idea of going to an ice-skating rink you were going to turn him down and suggest something safer and more namjoon friendly...

but it’s december!

and december is literally the time to go ice-skating!

and there’s always a hot chocolate truck that’s parked right by the rink so hopefully you’ll be able to soothe namjoon’s bruised bum (you’re betting that namjoon’s bum will be all sorts of bruised after ten minutes on the ice) with extra whipped cream and marshmallows

hopefully he won’t be as grumpy as he is now when he’s sipping on a big ol mug of rich, creamy hot chocolate

“we’re going to have so much fun! the last time i went skating, i-” as soon as you slide onto the ice, namjoon suddenly yanks you backwards

you turn to look at him only to see him gripping onto the railing for dear life

he’s not even on the ice yet!

big ol’ wimp

“what’s the matter? cold feet?” you joke, namjoon giving you an unimpressed frown, “what?? you have to admit that was a good joke-”

“that was an awful joke-”

“namjoon…” you purse your lips and place your free hand on your hip, “you know that you have to be on the ice in order to ice skate, right?” you give his hand a reassuring squeeze, “i’m not going to let you fall. i promise! but in the rare case that you do fall, feel free to fall on top of me to cushion your blow. i’ll gladly break a couple of ribs just to keep you from hitting the ground!”

“what happens if you skate circles around me and end up cutting a circle into the ice and then i fall in??”

oh god

here we go

“that’s not going to happen, namjoon.” you shake your head, “because we’re not in a cartoon.”

“what happens if i accidentally fall backwards and end up stabbing myself in the eye with the blade?”

“that’s not going to happen, namjoon- first of all, the tip of the blade is rounded off, so you won’t be stabbing anything at all, and second of all, we both know you’re not nearly flexible enough for your body to be able to bend in half like that-

“what happens if i fall to the ground and someone skates over my fingers and slices them off?!”

“that’s not going to-” you pause for a split second, “well, that could happen, so maybe just don’t fall and remember to keep your hands off the ice-”

“okay, well- i don’t want to do this anymore!!!” namjoon lets go of your hand and you resist the urge to fall to the ground and let out a primal screech of rage, “if there’s even a chance that i’m going to lose the tip of one finger today, there’s no way in hell i’m getting onto the ice-”

“you’re not going to lose any fingers-”

“how can you be so sure?!”

you immediately shut up before reaching up to pinch the bridge of your nose

you love namjoon with all your heart but sometimes he’s just.., a little much

he’s not very big on risk-taking

he’s always been very content just staying within his comfort zone which is fine!

you never pressure him into doing anything if he very clearly is uncomfortable with it

with that being said, it’s just that whenever you even try to nudge him like a centimetre out of his safety bubble, he flips out on you just like how he’s flipping out right now

like that one time you made him try a vanilla bean frappucino (arguably the plainest most basic frappucino flavour on the starbucks menu) instead of his usual iced americano and after he took a sip he accused you of trying to make him get diabetes

it’s not like you’re purposely trying to torment him by forcing him to ice skate

you just wanted to come here and have a good time with your friend!

“namjoon, you seriously need to calm down-”

“i am calm! i am so calm! in fact, i’ve never been MORE CALM-!”

it doesn’t take long for you and namjoon to start bickering with each other, the both of you too wrapped up in yelling at each other to notice the weird glances you’re getting from everyone

“all i’m trying to say is that the only reason why we’re here in the first place is because you said that you wanted to try-”

“yeah, and now i change my mind! what, are you saying i’m not allowed to change my mind?”

“i never- i never said you weren’t allowed to change your mind, i just want you to try to understand that it can be a little frustrating for me to set everything up for you only for you to chicken out at the end-”

“chicken out?! how dare you?! i am not chickening- i’m backing out for the safety of my eyeballs and my hands-”

“i said i would hold your hand the whole time!”

“that’s not secure enough! you holding my hand on slippery ice as a form of safety is equivalent to me getting on a rollercoaster using flimsy shoelaces to tie me to the seat-”

“that’s why i said i would get you the penguin so that you have two handles to hold onto-”

“i don’t want the friggin’ penguin!” namjoon snaps, stepping aside when a little kid nudges past him only to immediately glide onto the ice

the two of you pause to watch him and you gawk when he starts zipping back and forth like a maniac

that could be you right now

you, too, could be having a blast on the ice right now if it weren’t for your manbaby friend over here

you gesture to the random child currently twirling around on the ice before scoffing, “namjoon! look at him! if that literal toddler can do that on the ice, you can at least step forward to stand on the ice-”

“that is not a child, that is just a very tiny professional ice skater-”

you press your lips together in frustration as namjoon continues to list off reasons why the two of you should just go for hot chocolate and then go straight home

and for a second you think about giving up and just giving him what he wants but...

no way!

you are noT letting him talk himself out of this one this time

you wanna go ice skating today and you’re going to figure out a way to make both you and namjoon happy

okay

so he doesn’t want to hold your hand

he doesn’t want the penguin

what other options do you have??

you twiddle with the end of your scarf before pausing and looking down at it

…

lightbulb

»»————-　❄　————-««

“alrighty… how does that feel?” you tighten the knot before giving namjoon’s stomach a pat, “nice and secure?”

yep

that’s right

you ended up tying your scarf around namjoon’s waist like some kind of a leash

you’re really hoping people won’t think this is one of those pet-play situations where namjoon is your human puppy and you’re his BDSM dominatrix

you’re not shaminG the kink or anything!!!

you’re just not into the whole arf arf roll over thing

it probably didn’t help that you wore a leather trench coat today

the weather’s finally cooled down enough for you to wear it so obviouSLY you had to wear your super cool leather trench coat but now you feel like you should take it off just in case it makes you look like you’re... into barking

namjoon hooks a finger into the scarf and gives it a little tug, “…i suppose… this is better than nothing…”

“great!” you sigh in relief, “so… i’m gonna take it nice and slow, okay? we’ll start off with some basic gliding and then we’ll go from there.”

unfortunately the ice is a little rougher now because it took like twenty minutes for namjoon to practice just standing on the ice without toppling over

you’re just glad that he’s now willing to actually give skating a try instead of giving up and going home

this is progress!!

you wonder if you’ll ever be able to convince him to go skydiving with you one day

...baby steps

“so, gliding is kind of like… it’s kind of like marching, i guess?” you hum, “it’ll help you transition into skating. you’re gonna march two steps forward and then let yourself just glide forward…” you wrap the end of the scarf around your fist to really make sure that it won’t slip from your fingers (because you’re 100% sure that namjoon will have a meltdown if you let go of it) as you continue to skate backwards slowly, watching namjoon’s feet like a hawk

you’re surprised he hasn’t fallen yet what with his wobbly knees

“am i… am i doing it??” namjoon asks dumbly and you can’t help but grin when he starts to pick up the movement

thank god he’s a fast learner

“hey, look at you go!” you laugh lightly, giving him a thumbs up, “you’re doing it! i mean, we’re going pretty slowly... but you’re doing it!”

namjoon reaches forward to grab onto the scarf when he wobbles a little and you immediately stop so that he can rebalance himself

(you don’t know how you’re going to catch him if he falls because he’s definitely going to end up crushing you and breaking all the bones in your body)

the two of you spend the next twenty minutes or so slowly making your way around the rink

for the most part, namjoon does just fine

there was one point where a little kid knocked into him from behind and he nearly fell over buT luckily he grabbed onto the railing before anything happened

he looked like he was fully ready to chase after the kid to strangle him but that’s beside the point

you let out an impatient little sigh as people continue to whiz past you

boo

you wanna do some whizzing too!

“are you…” you trail off, looking back over at namjoon, “okay to move on to stroking?”

namjoon’s brows furrow as he lets go of the scarf after regaining his balance, “stroking?”

“mhm!” you nod, turning to glance over your shoulder for a second to make sure there’s no one behind you, subtly skating backwards a tiny bit quicker, “it’s literally just, like, a longer version of gliding. you just extend the same motion for a longer period of time, that’s all.”

“oh... like... like this?” namjoon pushes off a little harder and you nod enthusiastically at the smooth movement

“yeah, there you go!” you laugh when namjoon picks it up with no problem, “look at you! you’re a natural... you might even be better than that tiny professional ice skater from earlier- make sure to lean forward a little…”

namjoon grins excitedly as he continues to glide left and right all while you (unbeknownst to him) gradually pick up your pace while pulling him towards you

hey!

he’s doing it!

this wasn’t as hard as he thought it’d be

he’s doing it!!!!!

and he’s going waY quicker than he originally was, which is probably a good sign, right?

“can i take the lead?” namjoon stands up a little straighter and puffs his chest out, “i wanna lead you now!”

you slow down a little and look down at the scarf that you’re still clutching onto for dear life, “you wanna take th- okay, well, do you want me to untie you?”

“oh no, i think you should still hold onto it just in case, but i wanna lead the way!” namjoon bounces up and down excitedly and clasps his hands together, “please, y/n? you’ve seen how fast i can go now!”

right

he can go super fasT on his own and it’s not because you’ve been pulling him along like a little wagon

you know what

it’s fine

you’re not worried about namjoon leading the way mainly because you know he’s just going to go around and around in slow circles

you could probably get away with closing your eyes while he pulls you around

you snort before nodding and sliding to the side so that he can skate past you, “alright, hotshot. you take the lead. now it’s really going to look like this is a leash- woAH-” your eyes widen in surprise when namjoon suddenly surges forward, his legs going left and right and left and right at a consistent pace-

oh god

okay

you speed yourself up as well to try to keep up with him, keeping your grip tight around your poor stretched out scarf

“namjoon-!” you laugh uneasily, “take it easy, you speed demon-”

“we should go ice skating all the time!” namjoon cheers, raising both his hands up in the air as he continues gliding like a maniac, “isn’t this fun?!”

“oh shit, sorry, excuse me-” you try your best noT to collide with people as you skate past them, “namjoon, i know you think this is fun but i really think you should slow down a little- oh, frick-” you curse to yourself when you notice that your scarf is caught in the clasp of your bracelet

shit!

this scarf was expensive!!!!

there’s no way you’re going to accidentally yanK out the threads and ruin it

“c’mon, stupid thing...” you look up for a brief second to make sure that namjoon’s still going straight and that he’s not about to round a corner or anything before looking back down to try to unhook the thread

you could try tugging on it but you’re worried that it’s going to mess up your scarf and you are noT willing to take that chance

“i’m turning here!”

“uh-huh, yeah...” your tongue pokes out in concentration as you use your nail to try to pluck it out and...

ah!

success!

there we go

no destroyed scarves today!

“what did you just sa-!” your eyes widen in surprise when suddenly the scarf disappears from your fist and you look up to see that the-

SMAK!

»»————-　❄　————-««

...

my head hurts

...

my ass hurts too

...

you peel an eye open slowly before closing it again

holy moly

your head is spinning and your ears are ringing and you’re pretty sure your eyes are permanently crossed because you can’t seem to get your vision to focus

is it possible to feel like you want to throw up and pass out at the same time?

you squeeze your eyes shut before shaking your head a little in a poor attempt to shakE the pain away

jesus

what happened??

the last thing you remember is going full speed on the ice and then everything went black

you push yourself up onto your elbows before looking around

you… are in a van that smells like bleach for some reason

why are you in a van??

oh god

were you kidnapped???

were you chloroformed and kidnapped???

you jump when one of the doors suddenly swings open and you immediately pull your legs up and away so that your kidnapper can’t reach over and drag you out by the legs

“hey, you! how are you feeling?”

“i- um-” you sit up all the way before turning and leaning back against the metal bench screwed into the side of the van, “i think i’m oka- a..a...aaaaaayyyy....?” you trail off dumbly, finding yourself being unable to shut your TRAP

okay

hello

you blink owlishly at the very handsome kidnapper before tilting your head to the side a little

the corners of his mouth twitch in a smile and he mimics your movements, tilting his head as well

maybe… you weren’t kidnapped

you just died and went to heaven, that’s all!

this is heaven

heaven is the back of an impeccably clean van and you are currently staring at a real-life angel

“sorry you woke up all alone, by the way- i just had to ask your friend a couple of questions as to what happened... i also had to comfort him a little because i’m pretty sure he thinks he killed you-”

“i’m sorry, am i not dead? is this not, like, the bus to heaven or something?” you ask, looking around at your surroundings

there’s a lot of medical-related tools and gadgets in here considering the fact that this is heaven

apparently heaven has heart defibrillators which doesn’t make much sense

“hey, hey- relax!” you jump when you feel him wrap his fingers around your ankle to get your attention, “you’re not dead. this isn’t the bus to heaven. you’re just in the back of an ambulance. you got into a little collision with the plexiglass barriers.”

okay

that makes more sense

“oh, thank god.” you breathe out, “because if i did die, then body slamming into plexiglass would’ve been a humiliating way to go.”

“mm, i totally agree. i would’ve been embarrassed having to drag your dead body away from the plexiglass.” mr probably-not-here-to-kidnap-you laughs lightly and opens the door a little wider for himself, “i just wanna patch you up. will you let me do that?”

you feel your mouth go dry when he takes his jacket off

hello broad shoulders

“you can do anything you want to me.” you blurt out, watching in awe as he steps into the ambulance to join you

you’re pretty sure the fact that you might have a mild concussion has something to do with it but your filter has just completely disappeared because jesus christ you want this man to ram into you harder than you rammed into the wall

you just don’t get it

how can one man be so... attractive?

the soft, perfectly tousled hair is right!

the pillowy, cherry-coloured lips are right!

the twinkling brown eyes are right!

the low, soothing voice is right!

the broad shoulders and equally as broad chest... veRY right

everything is just so RIGHT

you swallow thickly when he sits down across from you and crosses his legs, his knees practically pressed right up against yours

you’re certainly not complaining about being so close to him but you’re definitely going to cramp up like this and you always make really weird faces when you get pins and needles shooting up your legs

you move your legs so that your ankles are on either side of his thighs before scooting your bum a little closer towards him

heh >:-)

“can you tell me what your name is?” he asks, pulling a first-aid kit out from under the bench

“y/n y/l/n.” you answer almost instantaneously, keeping your eyes glued on his face as he rummages through the box

“mhm… very good…”

“what’s your name?” you watch as he rips open a little gauze pad

god

even his fingers are pretty

“seokjin.” seokjin smiles sweetly, your heart skipping a beat when he reaches up to brush some hair away from your forehead, “i’m just going to clean your cut up a little bit. stay still for me, yeah?”

you nod obediently and find yourself leaning forward a little bit even though you know you probably don’t need to

“what’s your last name?” you ask, seokjin looking down at you for a brief second before focusing back on the cut on your forehead

“kim. why?”

“just wanted to know what my future surname is going to be, that’s all.”

seokjin snorts before raising a brow, “quite the charmer, aren’t you?”

“it’s not every day that i get to talk to a very handsome ambulance man.”

seokjin chuckles, smoothing his fingers over the pad to make sure that it’s secure before pulling away, “mm, that’s fair. can you tell me what day it is?”

“saturday. which i think is the perfect day out of all of the days to go out on a date, because if we get super drunk and have crazy sex tonight, we can wake up late tomorrow and go out for brunch-!”

seokjin suddenly pinches your lips in between his fingers before frowning in concern, “your bottom lip is a little busted.”

“pheel vfree to kiss it bhetter.” you murmur, seokjin pulling away to rummage through his little kit again, “you look really cute when you’re concerned, by the way.”

“is that so?” seokjin hums, pulling a q-tip out and a tube of what looks to be some kind of a gel, “you can’t go around kissing strangers, you know.”

“you’re an exception.” you grin, dodging the q-tip when seokjin tries to dab some gel on your lip, “i was serious about the date, though. what do you think?”

“i think-” seokjin tries again only for you to turn your head the other way, “i think that you need to stop flirting with me so that i can do my job-”

“i’m letting you do your job!” you argue, “i’m just asking you an innocent question, that’s all-”

“if you were letting me do my job, you would be all patched up by now-” seokjin laughs lightly, shaking his head and leaning backwards when you move your head again, “okay, how about this? i will happily go out with you if you just stay still and let me clean up your lip.”

you perk up immediately, “for real?”

“for real.” he nods, holding the q-tip up, “are you willing to cooperate now?”

“mhm.” you hum contently, leaning forward and immediately pursing your lips, “please fix my lips so they’ll be nice and healed by the time we go out on our date.”

“why? are you planning to do a lot of kissing on our date?” seokjin teases, applying the gel before using the other end to dab off the excess

“that’s for me to know and for you to find out.”

seokjin presses his lips together to hold back a smirk

you are... awfully cheeky, aren’t you?

he’s verY into that

and bonus points because you’re very attractive and definitely his type

“okay, lemme just do one last thing here.” seokjin reaches into his shirt pocket for a little flashlight before reaching over and pinching your chin in between his fingers gently and bringing your face closer to his

“you’re not even going to wait until after our first date to kiss me?” you murmur, your eyes widening slightly, “and i thought i was coming on strong.”

“i’m just checking out your pupils, darling.” seokjin hums, “trust me. you’ll know when i’m about to kiss you.”

you shift in your spot a little as you feel youR cheeks starting to heat up now

oh,.,. how the tables have turned.,,.

seokjin’s just glad that he finally figured out how to get you to stay still so that he can get along with his procedures smoothly

“hi, pretty girl…” seokjin coos, raising your eyelid gently so that he can get a good look at your pupils, “mhm, that’s right… just keep your eyes on me…”

gladly

you’d keep your eyes on seokjin for the rest of your liFE if you could

“is this finally the part where you kiss me?”

“nice try, cheeky.”

»»————-　❄　————-««

“so y/n’s going to be okay?” namjoon chews on his thumbnail anxiously and you reach over to pat his knee reassuringly

the poor thing is going to chew his entire hand off if he doesn’t stop soon

he joined you on the ambulance ten minutes ago but for eight whole minutes was just profusely apologizing to you (“i’ll never put on another pair of skates for as long as i’ll live!” “namjoon, it’s fine-” “for as long aS I LIVE-”)

seokjin nods as he packs up his kit and slides it back underneath the bench, “y/n’s going to be just fine. you can relax!”

“namjoon - you’re acting like you ran me over with a monster truck. i’m fine!”

“how many fingers am i holding up?” namjoon holds up three fingers and you blink at him before raising a brow

“obviously five.”

namjoon’s eyes widen in panic and he turns back to look at seokjin, “y-you said she was fine!”

“three! three fingers, you’re holding up three fingers-” you giggle, reaching forward to push namjoon’s hand back down, “seriously, joon... i’m fine! i swear.”

“alright, all you have to do is keep her company during the ride.” seokjin clears his throat, “i want to do a couple of scans at the hospital just in case!”

“aw, but i don’t want namjoon to keep me company-” you whine quietly, leaning against namjoon’s shoulder as you look up at jin, “why can’t you keep me company instead?”

“someone has to drive the ambulance.” seokjin teases, reaching down to pinch the apple of your cheek gently, “i’m all yours at the hospital.”

“namjoon can drive.” you push your bottom lip out in a pout before batting your lashes at him, “don’t you wanna hang out with me?”

“if namjoon’s driving skills are as good as his skating skills, i think i’m going to have to pass.” jin laughs lightly, sliding back into his jacket “we can hang out once we get to the hospital.”

namjoon narrows his eyes suspiciously as he glances back and forth between the two of you

...

..,.,...the energy in here...,.,..

.,,.,.,,the vibes,.,..,

someone definitely wants to fuck someone

seokjin sighs to himself as he hops into the driver’s seat before slamming the door shut

he pulls his phone out to check the time before smiling to himself because :-) your number is on his phone :-)

he wasn’t expecting to get a cute girl’s number today but he welcomes this surprise with open arms!

“y/n y/l/n...” he murmurs under his breath, reaching up to adjust the mirror

your name does seem like it’d fit with his surname

his ears prickle when he hears your muffled voice through the thin partition and he leans back a little so he can do some sneaky eavesdropping

“i am planning... to have so much sex with that man. but in like a romantic way, you know? because i’m classy like that.”

seokjin snorts to himself before shoving the key into the ignition

(for the record: he feels the exact same way as you do).

christmas with cee 2020 masterlist

🎁what would you like from ceenta this year? 🎁

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little-nightmare-gt · 3 years

Text

Finding Family

Probably the one and only SMP Minecraft fic I'll make.... probably. Join us with Tommy and Tubbo, two borrowers living out in the wilds. Borrowers, Fae etc. Creatures are rare and sought after by wealthy people. Giants (Humans and some Hybrids) are considered monsters to borrowers, and often feared. Comms are a thing for everyone. @baka-monarch you wanted to be tagged.

Warning: Abandonment, blood, implied burning, growth in small areas, near death experience, near crushed experience, Technoblade.

Tommy and Tubbo weren't bad kids, they were young with no parents. They were taught the rules by strangers who abandoned them the moment they could borrow.

They were born in captivity and sold to a rich child with a fascination with hurting things, if by Tommy's missing wings and Tubbo's scared face had anything to do with it.

People didn't stay with them for long.

Tommy was always too loud and Tubbo too easy, and they only stuck together.

They were a bit upset at being alone but both deemed to not need anyone else.

The two decided to leave and find another place to live, somewhere not many monsters dare to go. The Artic.

Tubbo built their first house, near a tree close but not part of the forest. Tommy began the underground gardening system which Tubbo ended up making it automatic, but continued to make touches and railroad tracks into caves and mines.

They hunted rabbits in the area for meat, and often take from the near by village.

One day though, Tubbo noticed an abandoned cottage near the village and quickly messaged Tommy about it, who immediately agreed to scoping it out for a hideout.

After gathering their supplies for the day, they went to explore the cottage.

There was a small enough crack in the door frame the the two borrowers to slip into. They froze at the large still warm room.

It wasn't dusty, so it couldn't be more than a few days that someone had been there. Tommy was a bit confused about it seeing as he would have noticed someone pass through here.

Tubbo pointed out that they lived near a forest and most people avoid them, but froze at the sound of a clatter.

Tubbo, with the better ears could hear aggressive whispering, "Someone is in my house Phil, the door didn't open, where are they?"

Tubbo nodded to his friend and pulled him closer to the counter and skimmed closer to the wall, taking out his hook, he and Tommy climbed up the counter at his urging.

Tommy made it first seeing three of their kind, "Sup Bitches!"

Tubbo made it up in time to see three grown men jump in fear, examining each one as Tommy talked.

The tallest looked to be a piglin Hybrid, the smaller usually stay in the Nether where their known about and treated equally. He wore a surprisingly nice long sleeve blue shirt and cloak.

The next looked human but his features suggest he's a piglin as well...just more human looking. He wore a similar cloak and shirt and the tall one.

The final man was shorter than Tommy, he had wings which was surprising in itself. That he still kept them after all, he wore a similar shirt but instead of a cloak he was a ponch and a bucket hat. What startled Tubbo, was that he seemed to be studying them like he was them.

There eyes met briefly as Tommy waved his arm in front of him sounding heated, causing him to tone in.

"I'm calling as I see it! The old man's gonna get it if he doesn't stop staring at my friend!"

"For someone so small, why are you so loud? Don't call us pets!" The middle one growled out.

"Where's the monster of this place anyway, we've never noticed anyone coming to and from here." Tubbo interrupted.

He watched the tallest flinch as the shortest puffed up angrily ready to defend their owner when Tommy interrupted, "Tubs, they could be one of those people."

Tubbo flinched, and looked at the older men, "Surely Not, Big Man, something is off about them but we can leave if you want."

"What! After you insult us! What kinds of people!?"

"Monster apologists, their pets who do anything for their Master. Even capture more of our kind, we've been here to long, let's go." Tommy led the way, leaving the shocked men on their counter top.

Tubbo stares at them, "Do you not have a rope to climb down? I didn't see and ledges and stuff to move around on."

The shortest still glared but it soften a bit, "I can get us down, where do you live? Can we visit?"

Tubbo looked down at Tommy as his friend shook his head no, "We'll visit you."

The kid jumped, catching the rope instead of plummeting to his doom. The three men looked over the ledge with eyes in shock as Tubbo pulled his hook down.

Tommy grinned up, "Have fun with your Monster folks!"

His friend yanked him along as the middle one made offended noises, something not sitting right as they squeezed through the door and made their way home.

"Tommy, I think they were in captivity. They didn't know how to react to us and two of them were piglin Hybrids, they probably got sold."

"Poor blokes, we'll visit them tomorrow, I'll apologize to them too." He didn't want to, but even he was a victim of only knowing monsters.

Tubbo began to start dinner, it becoming darker and darker outside.

========

The snow beginning to pick up, Tommy was working on his stone sword when someone knocked on the door.

Tubbo had a hunch on who it was.

He was correct when three familiar faces were shown shocked at the sight of them, "If you're coming in, please hurry."

Tommy shut the door with a knowing look as the grown men inspected their home, "So you two live alone? How old are you seven?"

Tubbo could hear the concern but Tommy huffed, "We are fifteen thank you very much! What about you old people? Huh? Ancient?"

"Well let's introduce ourselves huh? I'm Wilbur, I'm the very charismatic of the bunch. My brother here is Technoblade, he's the fighter. Here's the old man, Philza or Phil."

Tubbo can just feel Tommy roll his eyes, "I'm Tommy the handsomest in the whole land and the biggest man, and over there is Tubbo, he is my best friend and brother. Wilbur, your names shit, I hope you know that."

Tubbo continued to say nothing as he finished making dinner and Tommy continued, "So, how did you end up in a mon-"

"Before you finish that sentence, Mate? What monster and why do you call him that?" The newly dubbed Phil asked.

Tubbo answered as he approached, "That's what our kind call big folk, you know, giants? Human and Hybrids? They're monsters, all of them."

Wilbur narrowed his eyes, "How about size shifters? Reckoned they're good."

Tommy tilted his head, "Haven't met one that wanted to shrink to our size, seen a few go Titanic but they tried to kill everyone."

Tubbo might have been the only one to see the oldest man frown a bit before smiling, "How about you two show us how to survive, like without the big folk."

Tommy caught on to the fact he didn't say Monster but said nothing, "Don't know, you three are pets-"

"We are not pets!" Technoblade finally spoke, his eyes peering down at Tommy and him being unfazed.

Tubbo sighed, he honestly didn't know what to think about the implications he was getting but no harm in being prepared, to bad this was the last time he'd think on it.

For a moment, the other teen seem to contemplate it.

Tommy's face finally grew Stony, "Nope, you're better off as pets or being self taught. You can spend the night but leave after."

Unfortunately, years of being abandoned is still a fresh wound.

Wilbur tried reasoning, "You're the only ones we've met like us! We've no idea how to do things on our own! Also if we run away-"

"You'll lead your monster straight to us and get us all caught, I'm not risking our lives like that." It was rare that Tommy put his foot down, but even rarer for Tubbo to object.

"If we don't, they could still tell their Monster where we are." Tommy looked shocked but resigned.

Technoblade looking a bit uncomfortable before speaking again, "He wouldn't bother you even if he did know."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"Riiiight."

====An image of drawn on wings appears on Tommy's back and tears on Tubbo's face.====

It started off slow, teaching basics of climbing and mending clothes first. Technoblade was great at mending, nearly on par with Tubbo. And he and Wilbur both Excell at climbing. Philza was actually on par with Tubbo for mending and pretty decent at climbing without rope, though he had wings he referred to it as handicapping himself.

They were decent in keeping up with Tommy and Tubbo themselves, but the two found that they were better fighters.

Now the teens needed fighting lessons, though the sneaking and stealing was the difficult part.

It's kinda insulting for these grown men to ask for help and not need it, and Tommy let them know.

They were sheepish as Tubbo led Techno to the farm, they bonded over the automatic farm he and Tommy created. Technoblade suggested and easier way to do it but Tubbo shook his head sadly.

"Mobs love going after our kind, not Endermen, even when we look them in the eye. But other mobs will Hunt us down. We try not to dig that deep, and avoid getting Iron ores...not that we can use them." Understanding reached the older Hybrid's eyes as Tubbo led him away.

It had been two weeks after that conversation that Tubbo finally let them see his horns, rubbing at them as they matured and needed a day.

Philza remain with him as Tommy took Techno and Wilbur hunting with him.

The elder man asking the hard questions as he made the child some tea, "Tell me, how did you get your...wounds."

Tubbo flinched and backed away from Phil before taking a deep breath, "Tommy and I...we were born and raised in captivity, we got sold to be a child's pets. They hurt Tommy so bad, then they tried to set me on fire with a torch...their mother stopped them before they touched me. But they believed me and Tommy were too...broken. so we were thrown out.

"More of our kind found us, but after teaching us what we know they left us. It's why we live outside instead of in the walls of a Monster's house...Tommy was too loud and I was too dumb to leave him."

Phil looked on the verge of tears, "You're not dumb, you're pretty wise for your age."

Before dozing off Tubbo managed to speak again, "No choice when you and yer friend are alone."

In the month, Tommy managed to let slip that he used to have wings and broke down in Tubbo's arms as the adults looked on in horror.

A child, ripping off his wings just because he asked them for an hour of rest. Then proceeded to play with said wings, nobody said anything as Phil flutted his own wings and occasionally covered the two children like a shield.

====The Next Month====

Tubbo laughed as Wilbur and Tommy shouted at each other about the best way to hunt. Phil would disappear once a week before returning with soft material for clothes, but Technoblade.

Technoblade was acting peculiar and even Tommy noticed, the two would ask if he were okay but he would nod and shoo them off.

The piglin Hybrid had been looking uncomfortable for the past few days, Phil and Wilbur seem to be waiting for something while Tubbo tried everything in his power to make him comfortable.

Tommy was concerned, not that he would show but got the material for Tubbo's gift to the older men.

For Philza, Tubbo made another ornament for his hat, a bee and raccoon.

For Wilbur, Tommy and Tubbo managed to have enough redstone for a music room. Tommy himself listen to Will play the most.

Tubbo was nervous about his gift to Techno, as Tommy gifted him a stone axe with self made design.

Tubbo, still focused on the Hybrid's discomfort, made his a pillow that looked like a ravanger. He gave a toothy grin and hugged the kid, keeping it close as he dozed off.

Tubbo will deny his tail ever wagging.

It wasn't until the next morning things made sense and seemed...bad.

Tubbo's horns hurt as Techno himself grunted in his discomfort, so they couldn't get things done.

Wilbur and Tommy got into another argument but this time about borrowing iron from the village which Phil helped Wilbur understand why not.

They were due for another hunting trip but with Technoblade and Tubbo out of commission, Phil had to go with them despite not wanting to leave the two.

Technoblade decided to stay on the couch instead of his newly added room and Tubbo remained near in case neither could handle the stairs.

When Tubbo blinked awake, it was to the noise of rushing wind and screams.

The ground shook under him as the house quaked, Pillagers

Tubbo quickly crawled over to Techno, too dizzy to stand and a shock went through his body.

The piglin Hybrid was much larger than their little couch that he slept on, Tubbo could place two hands on the older Hybrid's face and attempted to awake him.

"T..ech..no, we need to move, please wake up." Just as Tubbo stuttered that out, a booted foot came through the borrower's home, a pained and fearful cry escaped him as he missed a single red eye open.

Something wrapped around his waist, startling him as he looked up fearful at Techno.

The Hybrid looked pained as he began to expand higher through the ceiling, Tubbo watched in horrified fascination as the hand he was in curled closer to an eye.

"Tubbo, you know me, you know I'd never hurt you. Please hold on to me, I don't want you getting hurt." Tubbo's body went on autopilot as the hand was brought closer to the mon- the neck of Technoblade.

Tubbo held on as the body finally broke through the house, shielding him from danger.

A gleam brought Tubbo to attention, a light blue axe appeared in the giant's hand shimmering with unspoken enchantments. Tubbo had only heard of diamonds before, he was not disappointed.

Technoblade slashed through all his enemies, all the while keeping an eye and ear on Tubbo.

The beat of large wings alerted Tubbo to another person, Philza. The oldest coming from the air like an Angel of Death.

Tubbo could make out two people against his own throat, Tommy and Wilbur.

Unfortunately Phil didn't catch sight of him and the borrower was being grabbed in a tight fist, "Come on Mate! You're not prepared enough for this."

Technoblade's ear twitched and the scared pain Yelp, "Philza! Let go! You have Tubbo!"

The crushing weight was immediately gone as the kid took deep breaths barely hearing Techno's instructions, "Tubbo, I'm going to have to fight my way through. Hold on the best you can."

As that was said, the older hybrid began to lurch forward. Tubbo caught glimpses of Phil fighting alongside, but his focus was on not falling.

Not being ripped away wasn't part of this, a small glowing Fae creature tackled Tubbo and flew him away.

========

Tommy watched as his best friend got carried away by a Vex, "TUBBO!"

Wilbur flinched at the volume and Phil slightly stiffen but didn't falter in his fighting, Technoblade visibly looked around when it happened.

The small army was thinning down as the two watched out for the vex with the ram Hybrid, carefully taking out other vexes that went for Tommy or Wilbur.

Techno knew there was one left as bodies turned to emeralds, but the snow began to become blinding and Tubbo's scent getting fainter.

Phil had to physically drag him to the cabin, Wilbur had grew to his full size and started a fire and proceeded to hold Tommy.

Who was using all his energy in fighting Wilbur's hand, "I have to find Tubbo! Wilbur let go!"

The small being froze as Techno and Phil entered the space, "Don't worry Tommy, we'll find him. But we'll be useless in this weather."

Phil attempted to comfort, suddenly feeling too large compared to the child. The man can barely see his facial features, but even he could tell that he was terrified.

The silence was thick and tension high and the broken voice to an all too small child spoke up, "So... this is it? You...you really got us to trust you-"

Wilbur knew where this was going, "Tommy, Tommy no-*

"You shithead's are really fucked up! What next? Am I a pet? Did you honestly sell Tubbo!?" Tommy continued, the only one about to tell he's crying was Wilbur.

Techno didn't say anything as Tommy yelled, guilt too strong in his gut. He slowly turned to the window, the snow falling harshly as Tubbo got farther and farther.

They were getting Tubbo back.

========

Tubbo wasn't feeling well, his head throbbed because of his horns and he was cold. His cagemate wasn't much better so he can't complain.

Enderfae were quite rare on the market, Tubbo had only met one that he called The Captain. Well sorta, he was of Dragon variety.

Tubbo doesn't like to think what happened to him.

The Enderfae was crying, as the Pillager added their cage to his wall. A pillager outpost.

"HHey, it'll be okay, I'll find a way out of this. My... family will come for us." Tubbo tried to soothe knowing that he was making empty promises.

"Its okay, I've come to terms with this the moment I got captured. I hope my friends are okay. My name's Ranboo."

"I'm Tubbo."

========

The cabin was dark, Wilbur slept curled around a pillow which held a borrower.

A borrower who's trust they destroyed...one of two.

Upon closer inspection, you could see the tear stains down his face. Filling the larger three with guilt, sympathy, and rage.

Technoblade added more Regen and Health Potions to his pack, his old red cloak was taken from the closet and put on. A large netherite axe lay strapped to his back along with his trusty trident.

His bright golden crown lay on his head once again as he readjusted his armor.

He stood in full netherite armor, his hair lay hazardous around his head. Stiffening as hands began to braid it into a ponytail.

"Be careful Technoblade, Tubbo is fragile compared to me and Wil. He might be afraid, try not to hurt him and try not to get hurt." Philza warned.

Techno responded in a snort, He was the Blood God, of course he'll be careful

========

Technoblade isn't always the lovable dope he shows his family, he was ruthless, dangerous, and incredibly protective.

Everyone knew of him, but very few knew him.

When something happens to his family, he hunts down the threat and if it's killable...need he continue?

A pillager kidnapped his little brother, his pack, and expects not to be hunted down like prey? Pillagers are not known for brilliance.

"Technoblade?!" A familiar voice rang out behind him, a feral growl escaped him.

Dream, Sapnap and George ran up to him. All equipped in their own armour, oddly enough Dream was without his mask and tear stains on his face.

They hesitated, they each had seen Technoblade in his most feral and bloodthirsty before, so they new to be cautious.

Sapnap spoke in Piglin, "Techno? Did something happen to Wilbur and Phil?"

"New Pack, Pillagers took him!" It was no secret that Feral Technoblade couldn't speak common, but it was still a surprise each time someone heard it.

Sapnap nodded, "We'll help, Pillagers stole my Inferno. Work together?"

The trio watched as the Piglin Hybrid nodded in agreement, it had been a while since they teamed up. What better way than to save family.

~~~~~~~~

Tubbo and Ranboo talked quietly, trying to brighten their seemingly dark future.

Ranboo talked about what he remembered before being bought by his Haunting, then finally trusting them and calling them his.

Tubbo spoke of his Herd, how he met the older three and how he knew one was just giant. How he observed them long enough to trust them, and their names.

Both promising the other that if they live or die that the other tell their family.

Not that it was necessary, about three minutes later an alarm went off, alerting the occupant of intruders.

Hope filled the two as yells of fear and agony echoed through the building, scaring the Evoker that captured them.

The pillager didn't have time to cast a spell when a familiar face burst through the doorway.

Tubbo could see the rage in his red eyes, but his happiness clouded judgement.

"Techno!"

For a moment, his rage cleared only for it to return full force at the Evoker.

Not long after that, he was struck down and Technoblade gently took the cage off the wall. He noticed the Enderfae and looked around for others.

His clawed hand wrapped around the small cage at the sight of small bones and jarred tiny insides, the only other living thing in the room was a small zombie Piglin hybrid in a jar next to the taxidermy book.

He took the jar and opened it, grabbed the child and opened Tubbo's cage and passed them to him.

As the building began to burn, Technoblade left just as fast as he arrived.

Tubbo watched as Ranboo called out to three individuals, he recognized one being a Mushroom hybrid but not the other two.

The baby zombie Piglin Hybrid curled next to him, both shivered just realizing the cold.

The bandana wearing man looked to Technoblade, "I can carry them if you want, keep them warm. You did agree to let us spend the night at your place."

He didn't understand the snorts and grunts but it seemed like the baby did because he copied.

That brought a soft smile to the bandana boy and Technoblade, the later grinned at Tubbo.

Soon they were on the move again. Tubbo and Ranboo huddled the baby Piglin, more relieved than before that they were saved.

========

Tommy hadn't eaten anything since Tubbo was taken, he hadn't interacted nor did he call Wilbur name and claim he was bald.

The two sizeshifter knew deep down that he wouldn't get better unless Tubbo was with them again.

The front door swung open revealing a steaming Sapnap holding something against his chest with the protective determination that was only in reserve for his friends and family.

Soon the rest of Dream Team and Technoblade entered the cabin, they were covered in soot smudges and looked exhausted.

Phil could see Tommy stiffen and move further from the door but settled on Technoblade, "Tubbo?"

Sapnap moved his arms to reveal a small cage with three small beings inside, one Phil recognized immediately.

"Tubbo!" Philza approached the younger man, who backed away at the same time as Ranboo flinched.

But the old man was patient, and the cage was released again, this time Tubbo was halfway through the door and jumping into Phil's hands.

"Hi Phil! Where's Tommy!?" Tubbo looked exhausted as well.

As gently as well as fast as he could, Phil brought his hands on the table so Tubbo could run to Tommy.

"Tubbo!"

"Tommy!"

The duo hugged until Tubbo passed out and caused a mass panic from everyone but Ranboo.

It wasn't ideal, but it was a new beginning for the clingyduo.

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jean-kayak · 3 years

Text

Three Strikes

Summary: You find another guy to have fun over the summer (please just read it, I’m bad with summaries)

Pairing: Matsukawa Issei x black!fem!reader x Iwaizumi Hajime

Word Count: 3,068

Warnings: (smut 18+!!), unprotected sex, spit roasting, fingering (f.receiving), minor anal fingering, throat fucking, oral sex (m.receiving), little bit of exhibitionism, threesome, and a very pissed off Makki

A/N: This fic is a continuation/part 2 of Highlight of the Summer, and tbh I just wanted to write Mattsun again and this was all I could think about, I just might write a part 3 LMAO

PART ONE//PART THREE

Hiro wasn't really too fond of the fact that you and Mattsun were sleeping together and making this a regular occurrence. The first strike happened when you decided to be a brat and constantly tease Mattsun.

You were sitting on Matsukawa's lap, your face buried in his neck while your holding a blanket over the two of you with a tight grip. "Makki hurry up it's starting," Issei yells, one of his hands rubbing up and down your back softly, and you can feel the shit-eating grin on his face.

You hear Hiro walk into the living room and sit on the couch a cushion away from the two of you before he sighs. "You two are disgusting," he comments, and Mattsun just shrugs as he pulls you closer to him, your breath hitching at the movement. "She not watching?" Hiro asks, and you feel Matsukawa shake his head.

"Nah," he starts, leaning his back against the couch and shifting his hips up, which causes you to bite your hand to hold back your moan. "She's said she's already seen it, so she's gonna sleep through it."

With the blanket covering the both of you, it looks like he was just getting into a more comfortable position. But under the blanket was a different story. The shift of his hips, slots himself further into your pulsing cunt, your breathing ragged.

Currently, this was your punishment for playing with Issei. You now have to endure his teasing as he splits you open while the movie plays for who knows how long. You've never seen it.

He holds the blanket between his chin and your shoulder as he grips your ass and spreading you apart before pulling you down impossibly further making you gasp into his neck. You jolt when he prods at your asshole, and Makki looks at you, but Mattsun is staring right at the TV screen, so he turns his attention back to the movie.

Issei glances at Makki who's now looking between his phone and the TV, and one of his hands makes its way up to your head. He pushes on your head lightly to tell you to lift your head, and you obey, your mouth opening almost instantly when his finger touches your lips.

He bites back any noise threatening to spill out of his mouth as he feels you covering his finger with your saliva, bobbing your head gently as your tongue circles around the tip.

He pulls it out, and your head goes back down into his neck as you try to calm your breathing. He brings his finger back down to your tight hole, and he rubs your back when you tense slightly.

He works his finger in, and he covers up his grunt with a cough when he feels you clench around him as he works his finger inside. He chuckles softly when he feels his neck getting wet, and you lift your head to take a few deep breaths because you're honest to God crying right now due to how much you're trying to not expose yourself.

When a louder part of the movie hits, Mattsun tilts his head, his mouth sucking on your ear lobe. "This is what you get, pretty girl," he whispers in your ear, smirking when you shudder before whimpering softly.

You carefully turn your head, your lips grazing his ear as you attempt to be as quiet as you can along with keeping your voice steady. "Please, Daddy. 'M sorry," you murmur, hoping to break his resolve when you clench around him.

His jaw clenches as he closes his eyes before he responds. "You sure? No more being a brat," he asks, thrusting his hips up, "a tease?"

You nod quickly as your arms wrap around his neck tighter. "I promise, Daddy, just please," you beg under your breath, and he gives you a quick peck on your neck while giving your ass a squeeze.

"Hold on, baby, be patient," he tells you, and you whine quietly and he silences you with another cant of his hips. He brings a finger down to rub at your clit, and that moan you have a hard time keeping quiet.

Makki glances in your direction, but Mattsun pays him no mind, his head facing forward. Hiro shifts before pausing the movie, stating that he's going to the bathroom.

As soon as you both hear the door close, you're looking at Issei as he starts to pound into you. You can't help but throw your head back as you let out a moan in relief. "No more being a tease, right?" he asks you, and you shake your head as you feel your body going limp with pleasure.

"No, I promise, just don't stop," you moan, and he tightens his grip on your hips as he feels himself getting closer to his climax. You reach down to rub hard circles on your clit, knowing your time is limited, but you're almost there anyway.

"Shit, you feel so good, fuck," Mattsun pants as he makes marks on your neck.

"Come on, Issei, right there," you sigh, and he thrusts right at your sweet spot, making you cum instantly as you cry into his neck, his orgasm quickly following right behind yours.

You both sigh heavily, catching your breath just as you hear the door open, thinking you're in the clear. "Are you fucking kidding me?" Hiro asks disgustingly before storming out the room. "Fuck you guys," he yells before you hear a door slam.

Both of you failed to notice that the blanket had fallen down.

The second strike should've been the third strike for Makki because of how much it's happened. Even though your rooms are separated by the bathroom, Hiro can still hear everything.

Matsukawa was fucking you into the mattress, your face pressed into the pillows as your back is arched, your chest touching the bed, and neither of you realized that the headboard is banging against the wall until you hear pounding on the walls.

Mattsun stops moving as you both listen to Makki pounding on the wall and yelling something along the lines of 'shut the fuck up' and 'stop fucking, and go to sleep.'

Issei just chuckles, clearly not deterred by his best friend's complaining, and he pulls out of you before grabbing a pillow and throwing it to the floor and manhandling you to the floor in the process.

He puts your back in his favorite arch before slipping back inside. "Use the pillow, I'm not done yet," he orders, and you muffle your sudden moans in the pillow as he starts his relentless pace up again, and you bite down on the fabric as you feel your orgasm approaching.

You're surprised the pillowcase doesn't rip when you cum, your body going taut as you grit your teeth further into the material. Mattsun doesn't even give you a chance to recuperate before he's flipping you onto his back.

You move to grab the pillow, but he smacks your hand away. "Fuck what Makki says, I wanna hear you," he tells you before sliding all the way into you quickly.

You let out a scream at the sudden stretch, but it eventually dives into moans as he fucks you harder than he previously was. He finds that spongy spot inside of you instantly, and you dig your nails into his biceps. "Fuck, Daddy, uh, right there," you gasp, the oversensitivity from your previous orgasm bringing you closer to another and to tears.

"Fucking shit," he swears as he props himself on his elbows, leaning down to pull you into a sloppy kiss that's nothing but tongues. You pull his tongue into your mouth as you grip his hair hard, and he comes with a shout, his seed shooting into you as you hit your climax.

He flops down on top of you as your arms come to fall down on the floor. You both jolt when you hear pounding on the door. "Fuck you! Keep doing this shit and you're out!" Hiro screams, and you both laugh softly as you both reply with an apology.

Strike three happens a while later. Both of you have stopped having sex while he's in the house for the most part, and if he is, then you find a more discreet way to do it. Also, you really don't feel like packing up your stuff and moving, and you know Hiro's serious.

You're sitting in the living room in one of the loveseats while Hiro and Mattsun sit on the couch. Hiro's new rule was that you two couldn't sit together anymore which you of course rolled your eyes at, but followed it anyway.

You're scrolling through your phone and exchanging heated glances with Mattsun when there's a knock at the door. Hiro makes his way over to the door and opens it, and you find it hard to take your eyes off the guy that walks in.

He's a bit shorter than your cousin and Issei, but he's really built. Mattsun greets him with a nod of his head as he sits in the loveseat opposite of yours, his eyes never leaving yours. "Wow, Hiro, you just have a plethora of hot friends, don't you?" you tease, and Makki rolls his eyes as he closes the door.

"Fuck off," he groans, and you chuckle lightly.

"Relax, I'm just joking," you comment, sending a wink to the spiky-haired guy in front of you, and you watch as his eyes rake down your body, and you feel your smirk widen.

Hiro's phone buzzes in his hand, and he looks down at the screen before he frowns. "Damn it, why do I keep forgetting about these things," he mumbles under his breath as he makes his way out of the living room, your attention now back on the guy in front of you.

"So, I heard your name was Iwaizumi?" you start, and he nods as he leans forward to rests his elbows on his knees.

"Hajime," he adds, "and I've heard a lot about you from Makki," he tells you, and you smile widely as you tilt your head.

"Ah, yes, like how much he loves me. I know, all good things," you joke as you raise a foot to rest on the seat as you lean back in the seat, and you see his eyes quickly focus on the skin exposed from your shorts.

"I also heard a lot about you from Mattsun," he adds as he rubs his hands together, the movement making his biceps flex, and you bite your lip as you raise your eyebrows.

"Really? Like what?" you entertain, and before he can answer, Hiro comes waltzing through the living room, making a B-line to the door.

He points right at you. "Behave." You scoff as you roll your eyes.

"I hope you know that this is a two-way street," you bite back, gesturing between you and Issei, and he rolls his eyes before walking out the door.

You continue to scroll through your phone, but you can't help the growing wetness at your core as you feel two heated gazes on you, dragging all over your body.

You look at Mattsun, and you smirk when he beckons you over with a curl of his finger. You lock your phone, throwing it on the seat, throwing a quick glance at Iwaizumi, who's watching your every move as you make the quick walk to Issei.

His hands immediately land on your hips, and you turn around, making a show of bending over in front of him before you sit down on his lap, his grip on your hips tightening when you grind yours.

"Gave him an invite?" you chide, as Issei leans back, his hands rub all over your body before they stop at your legs. He rubs over your thighs before spreading them open and setting them on top of his.

"Told him he could either watch or join. Up to him," he explains before he starts trailing kisses down your neck, his hands moving to cup your tits.

Your hand weaves through his hair as one of his hands trails down to your shorts. "Come on, Iwa, don't go shy on me now," you entice, and he gulps harshly before he stands and walks over to you.

You moan softly when Issei's fingers make their way inside your shorts to toy at your folds, and you hear Mattsun scoff lightly. "She's already soaked," he tells him as he continues his ministrations before pulling his fingers away.

You watch Iwaizumi's eyes darken when Issei holds his fingers up, the digits shiny with your slick, and you watch as he sticks his fingers in his mouth, groaning quietly. "Damn. I told you she tastes amazing."

You feel your face heat up as you bury your face in his neck, and you hear a chuckle come from Iwaizumi as he takes a step closer. You lift your head to look at him before you lean forward to grab him by the shirt, pulling him into a bruising kiss.

His kiss is different from Issei's but it's still full of passion and hunger. He grips the hair at the base of your neck, angling your head upwards, making you moan as he runs his tongue over your teeth.

Issei stands you up, pulling your shorts down, and Iwaizumi pulls away, moving to kneel on the couch as Mattsun turns so that the both of are facing him. Iwa takes your shirt off, his eyes going even darker when they fall on your tits.

"No bra and panties? You really are a little slut," he tells you before moving to your neck, his fingers rolling the hard buds as Mattsun slides his fingers into you. You don't even try to stop the moans that come from as one hand makes it's way into Iwaizumi's hair as his mouth moves to your chest, your other hand gripping the other man's wrist.

When they both pull away, your chest is covered in spit, slick running down your thighs. Mattsun lifts you up, shedding his shorts and his underwear before he kneels on the couch behind you, lifting your hips up as he lines himself up. You all moan at the same time when he enters you, your hands digging into Iwaizumi's shoulders as you feel the stretch.

"Fuck, she feels so good," he moans when he bottoms out. "You can fuck her after me, but her mouth is just as good," he says before he starts moving, and you moan again as you let your head drop, your breasts swaying with every thrust of his hips.

You feel a hand grip your hair painfully, snatching your head up, and you see that Iwaizumi's completely stripped, his dick right in front of your face. He groans when you instantly open your mouth, and he gives himself a few pumps before he guides it in, your lips wrapping around it to the best of your ability.

"Fuck," he whispers when you look up at him as you suck him off, moaning around him, and he readjusts the grip on your hair before moving his hips.

"She likes when you fuck her face, she's clenching around me so hard, shit," Mattsun groans as he speeds up his hips as he feels himself getting closer. "Shit, shit, fuck," he spits out, and then he's coming with his head thrown back as he fucks you through his high before stopping.

They both pull out of you, and Mattsun sighs heavily as he nods his head towards Iwaizumi with a smirk. "Your turn." He quickly turns you around, and you whine as you feel the stretch again, this one different due to Iwaizumi being a little thicker than Issei.

He has a grip on your shoulder and your hip as he pounds into you, and Mattsun rubs a hand over your hair, biting his lip at the tears and drool running down your face. "You're being so good for your daddies, aren't you?" he asks you, lifting your chin as he watches you struggle to talk, your eyes rolling back in pleasure.

Iwaizumi smacks your ass, making you cry out as he continues to ram into you. "He asked you a question, didn't he? Answer him." You drop your head as you try to form words, and Mattsun lifts your head back up.

"Yes! Yes! I am, oh fuck," you sigh, having a hard time keeping your arms up to hold you steady.

"God, you are so tight," he grits through his teeth as he drives right into that spot that makes you see stars.

"Ngh, fuck, right there, Daddy, right there!" you scream, and Iwaizumi abandons his grip on your shoulder for gripping your hair, pulling on it, making your back arch further.

He lets go of your hip to reach under you to play with your clit. "Cum with me, baby, you can do it," he coaxes, and he moans softly when you clench around him, and your arms fall when you cum, your body tight as your eyes roll. You feel Iwaizumi tense being you before cumming with a shout of your name, stopping when you both wince from the overstimulation.

Your body falls limp against the couch when Iwaizumi pulls out of you, letting go of your hair. Mattsun pulls you into his lap, and you lean into his neck. "You okay?" he asks, rubbing your back softly, and the only way you can answer is with a nod of your head.

When Hiro opens the door, he sees Mattsun pulling his shorts back up and he sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. "Y/N, please tell me that Iwaizumi is gone."

"Um..." He looks at you when you trail off, and oh wow the floor looks really interesting right now, and then Iwaizumi is sheepishly coming out from behind the couch with his shirt in his hand.

"DAMN IT, Y/N!! THAT'S IT, PACK YOUR SHIT!!" he yells as he walks swings the door open. "AND YOU'RE BUYING ME A NEW COUCH!!"

You jump slightly when the door slams and the three of you look at each other in silence before you break into a fit of laughs. "Guess I'm moving into your place, Issei."

#matsukawa issei smut #issei matsukawa smut #iwaizumi hajime smut #hajime iwaizumi smut #matsukawa issei x black!reader #issei matsukawa x black!reader #iwaizumi hajime x black!reader #hajime iwaizumi x black!reader #mattsun smut #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #hq #haikyuu!! smut #haikyuu smut #hq!! smut #hq!!#hq smut

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theoreticslut · 4 years

Text

George x short fem reader

Requested by @pastanest

warnings: fluff

A/N: this request is so freaking cute! It made me so happy to read and then try to figure out how to write. I, myself, am a pretty short person at around 5′4 so george would still tower over me which i would honestly love to experience but we don’t need to get into that right now. anyways, this is just fluffy with a bit of a protective reader and its cute. I hope you like it!! also, pls don’t judge some of my curses; I’m well aware some of them are questionable...

Dating a giant is fun; you always have someone to completely smother you when cuddling, when you steal their shirts you know they’ll always be long enough, and you’re favourite part of it - you always feel safe because you have a bloody giant as a boyfriend to protect you.

The only downfall you’ve come to find is how many people like to criticize your relationship solely due to the height difference.

You and George have been dating for nearly a year and you’ve lost count of how many comments have been made that you’re too short to be with him. At first it was fine, people just pointing out the obvious, right? After a year of it though, you’re tired of hearing it. You and George love each other and you’ve never given anyone a reason to think you weren’t good together, yet people continue to joke about how you won’t work out due to just how short you are compared to him.

You were honestly starting to wonder if maybe everyone else was right. Maybe you and George really weren’t going to work out.

“Princess, what are you thinking about?” George asks, noticing how distant you’ve become over the last half hour or so while hanging out.

“Hmm? Oh, nothing important.” You give him a small smile, your cheeks tinting a light pink.

“So I’m nothing important?” He playfully pouts, giving you those puppy dog eyes you can’t ever refuse or ignore.

You chuckle and smack his bicep causing him to laugh and pull you closer.

“You know I’m only joking, sweetie. But in all seriousness, what’s got you so down?”

“It’s dumb.” You chuckle, blushing and looking away.

“I love dumb.” George smiles, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“It’s just, I don’t know, does it ever drive you crazy how many people say we won’t work out?” You ask, frowning and not wanting to meet his gaze.

It’s a dumb question; you knew it didn’t bother him. Hell you’d be surprised if he even paid any attention to it. You were just feeling insecure.

“What are you talking about, love? Who’s been saying we won’t work out?” George asks, frowning at how obviously upset you are over this.

“Well, no one in particular really...” you trail off, glancing up at him frowning as you fidget with your hands.

“It’s just, well, ever since we’ve been together people keep saying I’m just too short for you, and because of that we won’t last.”

George watches as you explain all of this, watching as you fidget with your hands and how you will barely look at him. He notices how flushed you’ve become just by bringing this up. He smiles, loving how adorable you are. He couldn’t care less how short you are compared to him because there’s so much more to you than your mere 5’ height. True he was over a foot taller than you, but it came with so many benefits that he couldn’t understand how anyone would talk down on the height difference.

“Princess, will you please look at me?” He urges, gently trying to lift your chin with his finger.

You sigh, feeling shaky as you do, immediately finding yourself lost in his eyes as he smiles at you.

“Princess, I don’t care how many people tell us we won’t work out. You know why?” He asks, looking into your eyes, trying to read the emotions that swirl within them.

“Why?” You mumble, not sure if he could even hear you.

“Because what they say doesn’t matter. Not one bit. They say we won’t work out because of our heights? That’s pure hippogriff shit.” He says, causing you to chuckle at his wording. If there’s one thing George weasley is good at, it’s making you laugh.

“They’re jealous, princess. That or they don’t know the joy of dating such a short person. Do you know what I love most about you?”

“What do you love the most?” You ask, trying to hold back a smile as your boyfriend keeps his gaze locked on you.

“I love how small you are. I love that when we cuddle I can literally wrap my body around the entirety of yours. I love having to crouch down to be eye level with you. It’s so much fun! Why else do you think I do so all the time?”

You let out a small chuckle as he pulls you up into his lap, making you straddle him so you can look at him.

“I love how when I pick you up you wrap your legs around me so you know you’re at least holding onto something because you can’t reach anything else. I love when I give you piggyback rides and you’re so amazed at how different everything looks from my height. It’s the cutest thing to watch how excited you get.”

“But I think my absolute favourite thing is when you wear one of my shirts and it looks like a dress on you. Or when you steal one of my jumpers and it looks like it’s swallowing you whole. I love that.” He chuckles, remember the first time he saw you in one of his jumpers.

He was honestly worried how you’d be able to handle anything because not only was the top itself long on you, but the arms were so much longer that’s yours and you refused to roll it up. You barely had any functionality to your hands because every time you went to reach for something, it was just sleeves.

“And even though you are shorter than me, there’s so much more to who you are and why I love you that being short becomes so insignificant in the big picture I’m not sure why anyone would judge this on the mere height difference.” George states, smiling at you and admiring how happy you look now compared to a few minutes ago.

“I love you so much, George.” You smile, kissing him as he wraps his arms around your waist.

~.~

Since your talk with George about the whole height difference between the two of you, you’ve been more than happy and it’s been easier than ever to brush aside the comments.

However, you’ve been having a bit of a rough week. You haven’t gotten much sleep since you’d been studying for a few different tests your professors decided to give at the same time.

You haven’t been able to spend much time with George lately as he’s had quidditch practice nearly every night to prep for the big game between gryffindor and slytherin.

Then on top of it, this ravenclaw boy, Alec Newton, has been trying to get under your skin for the last few weeks by either taunting you or criticizing your work or even trying to make fun of your appearance.

“Hey y/l/n! Wait up.” You hear him call.

“What do you want Alec?” You sigh.

“How is everything going with weasley? I haven’t seen you two together a lot lately. Has he finally realized you’re too good for him?”

“What’s it matter to you?” You ask, not having the energy to care about this conversation.

From down the hall, George is watching this play out, annoyed himself at how much it seems this Alec guy is annoying you.

“Well, if you’re single I’d like to take you out? I mean, don’t you think you deserve someone you don’t have to look up to. Someone who you can meet eye to eye with.” He asks a bit too smugly for your liking.

George gawks at this dudes bravery. Just because you and him haven’t been seen together much this week he suddenly thinks he can make a move on you? He’s nearly ready to storm over and save you from this asshole when he notices you start to get angry.

He stops solely to see how this will continue to play out. George has rarely seen you get angry and he’s curious to see what you’re like.

“Excuse me? Are you saying that George doesn’t deserve me? And because of my height?” He can hear you ask, clearly disgusted with how this dude could possibly think that was an acceptable conclusion. He notices how you start to position yourself in a fighting stance, your hand tightening around your wand handle.

“Well, yeah. Wouldn’t you like someone you could-“

“What I would like, Newton,” you say, pointing your wand at him to emphasize your point, “is for people to stop pointing out the height difference between George and I.”

You buzz with the rush of adrenaline fighting gives you, not caring that you cut him off nor realizing who you have as an audience. All you care about in the moment is how annoyed you are at Alec and everyone else who has ever said you and George aren’t going to work out because of the height difference.

“There is more to our relationship than just our heights. In fact there’s more to us as people than just our heights. If you can’t see past that then I feel really sorry for how much of a ignorant worm you truly are.”

“But-“

“And truthfully, our relationship is of no bloody concern to you now is it? We’re not dating you, you mangy dragon, we’re dating each other.” You point out, waving your wand around animatedly to make your point.

“And furthermore, what makes you think I would go out with you of all people?” You hiss, pointing your wand directly at his throat as if threatening to cut off his head.

“You’re annoying and rude. You go around telling people that their boyfriend doesn’t deserve them when you know absolutely nothing about the relationship to begin with.”

“You pretend you’re some big hotshot that all the girls want, but in all reality you’re a sorry excuse of a wizard. You barely pay attention to classes, you can’t tell the difference between dittany and gillyweed, and your spell casting is so weak I’m surprised you can even cast lumos.” You continue, not giving him a chance to speak as you continue waving your wand around as you talk.

“I-I’m sorry.” He states, a bit scared at how harsh you’ve become as well as how you’re carelessly waving your wand around. He’s well aware of how intelligent you are and knows that you could jinx him without really thinking about it.

“Oh you’re sorry? Well that’s just great for you, isn’t it? You wouldn’t have to be if you hadn’t opened your bloody mouth to begin with now would you?”

“You’re lucky I don’t hex you right here on the spot for being such an annoying rotten mandrake. If I ever hear you saying George doesn’t deserve me again, I will not hesitate to vanish you from existence. You understand me, Newton?” You threaten, your wand at his throat.

“Understood, y/l/n. Again, I’m really sorry.” He says, visibly shaking at the threat of being hexed.

“Now get out of my sight before I change my mind and hex you anyway. I don’t want to hear from you again, and I better not hear anything about George from you either or I will personally hunt you down and kill you myself.”

“Y-yes. You won’t hear anything, I promise.” He stutters, hurrying away the second you lift your wand from his throat.

Once he’s run off you sigh, trying to calm yourself down. You relax your shoulders and run your hand through your hair.

“You’d really hex that ‘ignorant worm’ for me?” You hear George chuckle from beside you, jumping as you didn’t realize he had been there.

“Y-you heard all of that?” You ask, blushing as you’ve never let George see you get angry. You didn’t like when you did. You’d much rather try to keep the peace and fight only when absolutely necessary.

“Heard and watched it, princess.” He smiled, pulling you into his side, ruffling your hair a bit.

“Oh Merlin. I’m sorry, George. He just- he was being so annoying. Has been for weeks.” You sigh, trying to justify you threatening him.

“No need to apologize, princess. I thought it was pretty hot myself.” He smiles, watching as you look up and blush at his words, your eyes wide at the statement.

“I never realized just how feisty my girlfriend is, and I have to admit I quite like it.”

“Seriously George?” You groan, feeling like he was just teasing you now. You start to pull away from him to walk back towards the common room.

“Seriously!” He chuckles, grabbing a hold of your hand and pulling you back to face him.

“I’m glad you think I deserve you, if you didn’t I’d start questing how good of a boyfriend I really am.” He jokes, causing you to roll your eyes at him.

“But in all seriousness, princess, that was really hot and I’m glad your mine. It’s nice to know someone loves me enough to threaten to hunt a fellow classmate to his death for me. I love you.” He smiles, pulling you in for a kiss.

“I love you too, George. More than you know,” you smile letting him kiss you again.

#george weasley #george wealsey imagine #harry potter fluff #harry potter #harry potter imagine #hogwarts #hogwarts era #fluff #george weasley x reader #imagines #oneshots #request

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 4 years

Text

𝑀𝑦 𝐺𝑖𝑟𝑙 𝑃𝑡.3 (𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝑆𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑔ℎ𝑤𝑎)

<Part One> <Part Two><Part Four<

Pairing: Badboy! Park Seonghwa (Ateez)/ Reader (Female)

Genre: Fluff, Angst, College AU.

Summary: Spending more time with Seonghwa, Y/N gets to know more about him and realizes he's not just playing with her, he truly does like her. But the question now is how does she feel about him?

Warnings: Mentions of smoking and drinking, if you're sensitive to such topics, read at your own discretion.

•••────────•••────────•••

"You can lift up your face now doll, we're here."

Y/N slightly opened one eye, then the other. Indeed they were right in front of her apartment complex.

"I'm not dead?"

Seonghwa burst out laughing even though it was a slight jab to him.

"No. I'm not reckless so as to crash myself or this baby onto anything."

Y/N nodded and let out a silent 'Oh'. So much for trusting him though.

"So is the kitten going to finally retract her claws and release this tight grip on me, or does she want me to carry her all the way inside?" Seonghwa teased, poking one of her arms, which were currently wrapped around his waist like her life depended on it.

Well in a way one could say it did.

"Huh?" Y/N looked at her arm placement and let go. "Oh sorry!"

She got off the motorcycle and began to fumble to take the helmet off.

Seonghwa let out a tiny pfft.

"I was seriously hoping you'd choose the second option."

Y/N nearly dropped the helmet when he said that. She cleared her throat and handed it back to him.

"Anyway....thanks for the food, and your company..." She began.

"So essentially, you're thanking me for our little date?" He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"It's not- wasn't- Oh!" She cried out and stomped her foot, turning on her heel and speed walking to her door.

"Wait! Y/N! Come back!"

Seonghwa called out to her, but she ignored him. She did not want him to see how flustered he got her to be. She was about to reach into her bag to get her keys, when it dawned on her: she left her bag in Seonghwa's motorcycle. She turned her head back to him, and of course, he was holding up her bag, with a look on his face that said 'I told you so.'

She sighed and took one step to go back, but Seonghwa signaled her not to.

"I'll bring it to you."

Seonghwa got off the motorcycle and walked up to her. He held out her bag to her, but before she could get it back, he suddenly got an idea and held it over his head.

"Hey! What was that for?" Y/N exclaimed as she jumped, trying to snatch her bag back.

"You haven't properly thanked me for taking you out on a date. Once you do, you can have this back." He smirked.

"Park Seonghwa! You're unbelievable!"

He merely shrugged at her comment.

"Your choice dollface. Either thank me and tell me you enjoyed it, or stay out here in the cold."

Y/N huffed and crossed her arms. She couldn't believe she was actually going to fall victim to his blackmail.

"Thanks for the date.....I..... actually had a nice time." She finally said, her voice barely whispering but Seonghwa was willing to take it.

He finally gave her the bag back and watched her fumble around to find her keys.

He snorted. "You girls should really have better organization in your purses."

Y/N lifted her eyes at him and glared at him, making Seonghwa step back with his arms up.

"Whoah, ok. Calm down kitten. Don't attack and get scratch marks on me...."

He paused then continued.

"Unless it's my back. Then I don't mind." He bit his bottom lip as he stared her up and down.

Y/N blushed intensely and stammered to try to tell him something, but couldn't.

"What? Kitten got caught her own tongue?" He snickered.

Y/N pouted, furrowing her eyebrows as her arms crossed in front of her chest.

"Aww come on doll. You know I'm just kidding. It's just cute to see you get all hissy or to see you get that pink tint on your cheeks."

Seonghwa's hands went to to her upper arms, his thumbs lightly rubbing her shoulders. He looked at her face for a while, just admiring the way the moon light shone on her features. Then he remembered he shouldn't keep her up so late.

"So....will I see you tomorrow?" He asked after a few minutes of silence passed.

"Huh? Oh the party...... I don't know. I'll feel out of place. I wouldn't know anyone there." She replied.

"You know me and I guess if you want to count them too, you know Wooyoung's loud ass and Yeosang's insipid ass." Seonghwa reminded her, causing her to giggle slightly.

"Seriously, smile like that more often. You look even more beautiful."

She immediately stopped giggling when he said that and was at an even greater loss for words when he leaned in and kissed her forehead.

"See you tomorrow babe. No ifs, ands or buts." He winked at her before racing back to his motorcycle.

Y/N just stood there, watching as he got back on the motorcycle, started it up and waved goodbye to her before speeding away out of sight. She stayed there for a few moments before a light breeze reminded her it was cold and unless she wanted to wake up with a stuffy nose, she'd better go inside and get some sleep if she wanted to make it to the party tomorrow.

And if she wanted to see Seonghwa again.

•••────────•••────────•••

Y/N took one last look at herself in the mirror. She didn't think she looked bad. But for some reason she wanted to look extra good. She looked at the time:

9:22 p.m

Seonghwa said he'd pick her up at 9:30, so she had no time to change into something different. Or could she?

She began looking through all the scattered articles of clothing she pulled from her closet, taking a double look at certain blouses and thinking if she should just change as fast as she possibly could.

Honk. Honk.

"Crap." She muttered as she stood up and ran to the door, nearly slipping on a pile of clothes.

Grabbing her bag and phone, she sped out her door and slammed it, making sure she locked it though. She wasn't going to risk someone breaking in.

"Hey! Y/N!"

She turned around and saw a familiar purple haired boy waving his arm at her, half his body coming out from the window of the car. She waved back awkwardly and walked slowly to the car, wondering why Seonghwa didn't tell her Wooyoung would be there.

Wooyoung got back inside the vehicle and opened the door to her.

"You're riding in the back with me. Isn't it fun!?" He exclaimed enthusiastically.

"If you want to throw him out the window, I wouldn't blame you." Yeosang's voice said from the passenger's seat.

Y/N got inside and was expecting to see Seonghwa behind the wheel, but instead she saw a red haired man she'd never seen before. He turned to her and held out his hand.

"Hi. I'm Jongho. Seonghwa couldn't come himself so he sent me and Yeosang to pick you up." He introduced himself as Y/N took his hand and shook it.

"That idiot wasn't part of the plan, but before we knew it he was already inside the car before we could run him over." Yeosang explanation, pointing to Wooyoung.

Wooyoung sat up and smacked Yeosang on the arm, causing Y/N and Jongho to laugh slightly.

"Ok seatbelts on everyone? Let's go."

Shifting into reverse, Jongho smoothly pulled out of the curbside and then drove south towards their destination. All throughout the ride, no one said a word: Y/N because she was too shy, Yeosang because he didn't talk, and Jongho because he was concentrating on the road.

Wooyoung however, was dying from how gloomy and silent they were. He opened his mouth to say something, but Yeosang beat him to it:

"If you dare ask or say anything remotely vacuous, I will make Jongho pull over and drop your ass in the nearest dumpster." He warned, causing Wooyoung to shut his mouth and pout.

"Why must you be mean to me?" Wooyoung complained.

"Relax Hyung. You know Yeosang is just playing with you." Jongho assured him.

"Wait. Hyung?" Y/N couldn't help but blurt out when he mentioned the honorific.

"Yeah. Jongho is the baby of our friend group. 00' liner." Wooyoung sat up and poked Jongho's cheek.

Jongho simply rolled his eyes, not a stranger to the older men's antics of reminding him he was younger.

"Seriously? I thought you were older!"

She didn't mean for it to come out that way, but soon Wooyoung and Yeosang were laughing.

"I get that a lot, don't worry." Jongho shrugged, not at all bothered by the fact she'd think that.

"So if you're the youngest, who's the oldest?" Y/N asked.

"It's actually none other than your boyfriend." Wooyoung responded, giving her a side glance to see her reaction.

She straightened up.

"He-he's not my boyfriend....." She corrected him.

All the boys kept quiet but a smirk was plastered on all of their faces. Jongho looked over at Yeosang and that's all it took for them to burst out laughing. Y/N just looked at them in confusion. They certainly were an odd bunch.

"Aren't you going to ask what we're laughing about?" Wooyoung asked as he leaned his face close to hers.

"I think..... I'd rather not." Y/N answered, scooching away from him.

"Good choice. And Wooyoung, I may not throw you out the window, but I was instructed to make sure you behaved so..... keep at least an arm's length away from Y/N. Or I'll tell Seonghwa." Jongho warned.

Wooyoung groaned in annoyance and scooted away while mumbling:

"I wasn't going to do anything, geez this boomer being all possessive."

Y/N heard him clearly, but she pretended not to and decided just to enjoy the ride and calm her nerves which were getting more and more out of control the closer they got to the house.

•••────────•••────────•••

Y/N looked around the place. It was already packed with people, some dancing erratically in the living room, while others were just chatting away, cups of beer in their hands. She had never been anywhere near the fraternity or sorority houses, but damn was this one huge. She was glad Wooyoung insisted on holding her hand so she wouldn't get lost.

"Hey! There's Hyung!"

Without warning, he yanked her in the direction of the kitchen, where Seonghwa was in the middle of a conversation with a slightly shorter grayish green hair man. Seonghwa immediately straightened up when he saw Y/N, completely ignoring what his friend was saying.

"Hey." He was the first to talk.

"Hi." She responded shyly.

They both stared at each other, the other two boys looking back and forth between them in confusion and annoyance. Wooyoung and the other male looked at each other and tried so hard to hold back from laughing at Seonghwa's awestruck expression.

Seonghwa looked down at the attire Y/N was wearing when his eyes caught something unpleasant: Wooyoung was still holding onto her hand. He looked back at the younger male who just raised an eyebrow at him.

Seonghwa merely pointed to their adjoined hands and ordered: "Off."

Wooyoung snorted and let go of Y/N.

"You're right Wooyoung. He's got it bad." The other male snickered before nodding in Y/N's direction.

"Choi San. Pleasure to finally meet the girl that makes this old man loose brain cells." He teased Seonghwa, who merely stared at him with a warning look.

"Hi." She returned the greeting.

"Ok enough chit chat. I came here to get wasted and make out with my one of my boy toys. So if you excuse me."Wooyoung took a hold of San's wrist and pulled him out to the crowd gathered at the drink station.

Seonghwa shook his head and sighed. "And then they'll be complaining in the morning and I'll be the one taking care of them."

"So are Wooyoung and San..." Y/N gestured with her hands.

"Hmm? Oh! Honestly...... I don't know. Between San and Yeosang, no one really knows who's the official item of Wooyoung's affection." He answered.

If Y/N had been drinking something, she would have seriously choked on it.

"Yeosang?" She asked incredulous.

"Yeah. It's complicated." Seonghwa rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

Y/N giggled. "But if you think about it, it's a cute match."

Seonghwa whipped his head to look at her.

"Seriously?"

Y/N nodded.

"You know what they say, opposites attract. Maybe someone as loud and eccentric as Wooyoung needs someone more quiet and level headed like Yeosang."

"Ok but, don't let San hear you say that. He might just cry." Seonghwa said.

Another awkward moment of silence fell over them. It seemed to happen quiet often. Seonghwa stepped over to the door beside the kitchen and opened it.

"I'm going out for a smoke." He simply told her.

Y/N debated whether or not to join him outside. Sure she didn't smoke but she'd rather not be standing alone like a total idiot. Then a voice popped up behind her.

"Go after him."

She jumped up and turned around to see Yeosang standing there with a cup in his hand.

"Jesus Yeosang, don't creep up on people like that." She clutched her chest, trying to calm down from the fright he just gave her.

"Sorry. Force of habit. But seriously, go keep him company."

Yeosang looked towards the crowd and squinted his eyes when he caught sight of San getting too close to Wooyoung for his liking.

"Meanwhile, I have to go make sure some idiot doesn't break something." He lied.

Y/N watched him walk over to where Wooyoung and San were dancing. She chuckled as she watched Yeosang pull Wooyoung onto him, wanting his attention, a clear pout on his lips. Then San tried to squeeze himself in between, almost shoving Yeosang away, while Wooyoung tried to calm them down.

"All is fair in love and war." She quoted before going outside to search for Seonghwa.

She looked around before a strong scent filled her nostrils. Finally spotting him, she quietly walked over to him, propping and sitting herself up on the railing he was leaning against.

"I thought you'd rather stay inside." He said as he blew out a smoke from his mouth.

She shrugged. "Wild parties and alcohol have never really been my thing."

Seonghwa hummed and held out his nicotine stick out to her, which she promptly refused. She was not planning on contracting cancer anytime soon.

Seonghwa chuckled.

"You're right. Maybe opposites do attract."

"What do you mean?" She tilted her head to him.

Seonghwa took a final puff of his cigarette before throwing it on the floor and stepping on it.

"I mean here I am, the famous bad boy of the school, trying to court the perfect goody two shoes student." He explained.

Hey!" Y/N shoved his arm lightly. "I'm not a goody two shoes!"

"Oh? Then what are you exactly Y/N? Who are you?" He mused more to himself than actually asking her a question.

She opened her mouth but then shut it back up when she didn't know how to respond. It was a question she had the answer to but no one had ever asked her before and now she didn't know how to explain. If she even wanted to explain.

She began swinging her legs in the air as she pondered over what to say.

"I guess..... I'm just....normal?"

Seonghwa snorted.

"Y/N trust me. You're not normal. A normal college student would either be getting their face shit wasted at a party like this, hook up with their classmates or teachers, and overall make stupid decisions they'll regret when they're older, but right now they don't give a damn cause they're young and feel invincible."

Y/N looked over at him.

"Is that how you feel?" She teased.

"We're talking about you, not me. You already know me. But what about you? What's so special about you?" He continued to pry.

"No- nothing. Absolutely nothing." She replied.

"Really? Nothing?" He scooted closer to her, trying to read her facial expressions.

"I guess I'm just a boring college student. Only trying to get through school and finish with as high grades as she can so she can land a decent job and live a normal life with 50 plus cats in the future." She let out a chortle at the last part.

"Cats are cute. But is that what you actually want?"

Y/N's smile gave her away immediately.

"No. I actually want..."

She stopped herself before she said too much. She was embarrased to say this to anyone, let alone Seonghwa.

"You can trust me. I won't judge you." He encouraged her.

Taking a deep breath she confessed:

"I actually want to be an editor......"

She looked up at him to see his expression.

"An editor?" He was genuinely interested in why she was passionate about it.

"Yeah. I major in English and world literature. I mean, I do now after I switched from finance." She explained.

"Not very good without a calculator?" He jokingly said.

"I thought you said you wouldn't judge." She reminded him.

"Sorry sorry. It just comes naturally." He apologized.

She continued.

"I mostly took it cause my parents wanted me to land a job in some bank or something. But I don't want that. My plan is to graduate with a bachelor's degree and start a job at as an intern at a book publishing company, and eventually work my way up. Simple as that."

Seonghwa blinked at her explanation, making her think she did sound boring.

"Are you judging me now?" She questioned him.

"No, on the contrary, I'm proud of you, really. You got your goals set and it's obvious you're working hard to achieve them. How many of those people in there know what they're going to do after college?"

He looked up at the sky and sighed blissfully.

"And you say you're just ordinary yet here you are being the most extraordinary person I've met."

Y/N looked down at the ground and smiled brightly to herself. It felt good to hear Seonghwa say he was proud of her. That's all she ever wanted to hear, but hearing it from someone like him, so sincere and honest, made it ten times better.

"So in theory, you want to be an Anastasia Steele?" He joked with her.

Feeling a little bold, she winked at him and answered:

"Only if you'll be my Christian Grey."

Seonghwa's eyes went huge as he snapped his head to look at her, trying to process what she said and if she really did say it. She swore she also saw a light hint of a blush on his cheeks and that made her burst out giggling.

"What? I can flirt a little too you know."

Turning his body, Seonghwa stood in front of her, both hands grabbing the railing on opposite sides of her body and therefore trapping her.

"Don't test me kitten because I won't hesitate to bend you over my lap and spank you." He warned.

Seonghwa smirked when he noticed her swallow harshly. His eyes scanned her every feature: eyes, nose, and then her lips. They looked so plump and soft and he just really wanted to feel them. He bit down on his lip as his thumb grazed over her bottom lip. Y/N held her breath when she noticed him leaning in closer. She closed her eyes and waited to see what happened.....

•••────────•••────────•••

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dreamties · 4 years

Text

Slashers W/ a Soft Pastel S/O

A/n - So this one actually wasn’t requested, I just thought it would be super cute. And what I mean by “Soft Pastel”, I mean being into soft/pastel/kawaii fashion, I just didn’t know how to phrase it. Since there’s so many subcultures.

Trigger Warning: Slight Cursing (I say f*ck)

Also- these are gender neutral, but a few describe you in skirts/dresses, so if you’re not comfy with that, just skip that part or the whole thing?? :/

I might do more like this for other types of alternative fashion- like punk or something? Or a S/O who has a lot of body mods, I think it would be fun.

Characters: Billy/Stu, The Lost Boys, Helen Lyle, Daniel Robitaille/Candyman, Brahms Heelshire, and Amanda Young.

I didn’t add Michael Myers, but can do so if y’all want it. I just think he’d be very indifferent about it...didn’t think that would be very fun to read.

Billy Loomis + Stu Macher

Stu would be the most like into your outfits

Billy? Not so much. he just thinks you look cute in everything.

but if you did more guro-kawaii looks? they would both be all over that shit.

it combines more of the grotesque in with the cute- which is just perfect for the boys. they get to see you dawned in all sorts of blood, guts/gore, bandage patterns/aesthetics.

and maybe even tying in different monster-ish elements.

like wearing funky white or other unnatural colored contacts, really intense makeup(especially around the eyes), and fuck it, maybe you’re wearing faux demon horns.

I think they’d find it kinda hot. if we’re being perfectly honest here.

Now- would you able to get them into it as well?

Stu will ask you, with excitement reverberating throughout out his body and his voice. of course he want’s to at least try it!

so many clips in Stu’s hair. you haven’t even had that many in your hair before!

he may also wear rings sometimes. he thinks all the colors and designs are just so fun!

and on the other hand...

Billy, the guy that basically wore the same outfit for an entire movie? who’s closet only contains jeans and white t-shirts? trying out your style? i don’t think so lol

if you do- somehow- get him to try...

then you might have pressured him into it a bit? very jokingly, of course.

“C’mon, humor me, babe. Stu’s already dressed and everything!” You try giving him puppy eyes to seal the deal.

“Fine!” Billy says, grabbing the garment and a few clips from your hands. He shuts the door too harshly behind him.

A short silence is shared, before you and Stu burst out laughing. “Do you think he’s mad at us?” You’re hardly able to get it out. Of course he was, but in his own odd way appreciated this adventure.

He comes back a moment later, his white t-shirt replaced with a pastel red one, an especially gory character printed on the front. and a red clip barely hanging on to one of the side pieces of hair in front of his face. You try to suppress a giggle at Billy’s messily put together look.

for the love of gosh- don’t actually laugh when he appears. he is very outside of his comfort zone, and he’s only doing this because he loves you and Stu, and just,, don’t add this to his list of reasons not to try new things.

whatever your reaction ends up being, you’re absolutely obligated to tell them how attractive they look in it(even Billy who looks hella dorky).

(my art)

The Lost Boys

the comparison between their dark, punk-ish style and then the sweet baby pinks and blues, and soft lavenders that adorned your form??

it’s just too sweet.

they are completely enamored by your style- even if certain vampires (and I’m not naming any names, but I definitely mean David) may not show his love for your look as openly

Marko- he’d get one cutesy patch for his jacket, so he has like a little piece of you everywhere he goes. also...he genuinely ended up really digging your style? but not enough to abandon his punk look completely. he is still totally dedicated to that.

the other boys will absolutely mess with him about the patch though

all in good fun!

David’s not letting you near his hair with any extra clips or accessories.

Dwayne enjoys the quiet intimacy shared between the two of you. just sitting together, you might be styling his hair( super loose ponytail or braid- admit it, it would be so cute! and helpful so his hair isn’t always in his face!)...anyways, you’d use a colorful hair tie, and a few clips to help pin back his hair.

he probably won’t go out with the clips in, but if it’s just the five of you at the cave? he’ll keep it in until it’s time to sleep.

he loves seeing how happy and accomplished you look after finishing with his hair tho.

Paul is hands down the most likely to get into the whole look and go out in public with it on.

makeup? hell yeah. it won’t be as intense as yours, and he probably only does the eyes and maybe some shine. sparkly vampire time

hair accessories? all of them

would try combining his look with yours, to have a perfect mess of it.

a light, light blue mesh top, slightly darker blue jacket(with slight accents in pink, purple, white or black), and his usual sort of white jeans(?) would still look great with it. he’s absolutely rocking that look.

you are ecstatic to finally have someone else to share your passion with! (much harder to find similar folks when you’re a vampire,,)

Helen Lyle

she’s so used to the plain life around her, and she’d been living before you- you were such a breath of fresh air.

of course, you’re darling personality also drew her into you- but your fashion sense? it fascinated her.

she’s not trying it herself anytime soon, but she appreciates the fact that you enjoy it.

the most she would ever try is a very natural makeup look. and a coat or two of a pastel color of her choice.

she would love watching you get ready. not so much help out though- she just likes seeing the way you approach things. how you choose to pair certain pieces with one another.

she’ll ask questions to better understand your interests! not that it’s weird or wrong that you’re into it, she’s just a very inquisitive person.

you’d wear a lot of blue though- because you know Helen likes that color.

imagine wearing coordinated looks for different events and such. so, when you go with Helen to help out with her Candyman thesis, you might wear candy-themed attire. (of course in this universe,, she wouldn’t die! so no worries of that! you get to keep you’re gf).

if you do gift her something, she keeps it on her bedside table(or dresser). so she can still admire it, and still serves a purpose. fun décor!

all around though- Helen would be very chill, but captivated, about you’re interests.

Daniel Robitaille - Candyman

his life is so dark and gruesome, and he loves seeing you all dressed up.

and while he’s dead- long dead- and isn’t really apart of the world in the same sense that you are- it gives him this happy sense of hope for the world.

because there’s this very small thing, that you hold close to your heart, that makes you smile.

Also!!

even if they’re apart of a super awful, traumatic, part of his past- the bees are just a part of the family now.

so cute yellow/spring/bee themed outfits?? yes. ohh definitely, yes.

As for him dressing up? He’d feel hesitant.

he’s filled with immense joy around you, but is almost scared with someone altering part of his attire or self in any way(rooted back to, again, past stuff).

but part of loving is to take the person as a whole, bad parts, good parts- insecurities- the entire package. and trusting one another.

he has his whole faith in you not to do anything bad.

and so, it becomes a habit for the two of you to spend mornings together, chatting and getting ready. well, you’re getting ready, it’s more for the quality time together for him.

things are little different for Daniel. for many reasons.

one, he has very short hair. so the clips don’t really work there..

two- he only has one hand, and he’s “working” a lot with the appendages he does have. rings won’t work out because they might fall off- and he’d hate to lose something of yours.

three- he’s not a big makeup fan. he’s happy enough watching you put it on.

and then for his actual attire- he needs the coat to cover his insides. it’s also, in a way, his uniform.

you’ve settled on two things.

making homemade necklaces that can easily hide under his big coat (either sweets or honey/bee themed).

and sewing little patterns on the inside of his coat. other’s wouldn’t be able to see it, but he would know it’s there.

Brahms Heelshire

imagine being super into sorta ‘sweet lolita’, pastel/soft colors, bows, the big skirts, all the sorta ruffles(?)

and then especially if your shorter than Brahms(which is really,, not hard to do unless you’re insanely tall cause he’s,, 6 foot 3.)- and he thinks you look like such a doll?

but like,, in a nice way.

I think he’d get pretty excited if he got to help you set up your outfits!

especially if you praised him for picking out a good combo, or organizing correctly.

and some of Brahms movements are a bit awkward, he’s spent most of his life in the walls and the attic...but imagine turning on his music, and just dancing with him. having him twirl you in his arms a few times.

Brahms loves having your hands through his hair. and if hair accessories means he gets more of that love and attention? then yes,, yes he will wear them.

he just likes feeling taken care of, and along with your usual duties, you help him figure out the soft fashion styles, and how to make it more appealing and suitable for his own tastes.

because- as you insist- you want it to be something he enjoys just because he does, and not just for the closeness. though you can’t deny you love that aspect, too.

i can tell you one thing right here, though. you’re never getting makeup on him. he does not like taking off his mask, even if you’ve been in a relationship with him for a while, he still hides his face a lot.

you’d offered to do his makeup once, since he was staring so intently as you did yours. you’d made the mistake of reaching for his mask. you’d usually ask before doing so, but sometimes you’d slip up.

You apologize profusely, offering your arms out to him for a hug. “There, there, Brahms.” You smile, giving him a slight squeeze of affection.

he does take your stuff sometimes.

it’s a little annoying when you think you’ve lost your favorite accessory or dress or etc and then you just realize,, oh, it’s my favorite wall boy again. thank gosh you love him, so you’re not really upset or anything.

he just likes having little reminders of you, it gives him reassurance. upon other warm and fuzzy feelings.

if you’re able to find time in your day though, you’ll make cute little trinkets or bracelets for him. you’ll gift them or purposely leave them out for him- so you’ll still have some of your stuff when it comes to getting ready the next day.

in short- he’d much rather look at you than partake on his own.

Amanda Young

she’s never seen anything like this! :0

everyone she knows, herself included, tend to wear more dulled, plain clothes.

she’s immediately very intrigued by your attire...sort of want’s to try it, but is a bit self conscious and embarrassed to ask.

So!! you start out with small things, and fairly early on you both realize that she loves when you decorate her hair with accessories.

gifting Amanda a pair of little pig clips!!

or little stud earrings- those would be fricking adorable on her!

and she’s just so happy,, wtf

you dress mostly for yourself, but the more you’re in a relationship with your gf- the more you want to dress for her as well.

you can see this little sparkle in her eye when she sees you, and you want to keep seeing that look for as long as you can.

you slowly get her into it. your relationship and Amanda’s interest in your style just gives her so much light in an otherwise dim world.

if she did get into it, I think she’d do more creepy/cute. as a way to sort of cope with past trauma. that this sort of “bad” thing (the creepy) can still coexist with the good (the cute). she admires that quality.

just very sweet partners, who happen to love similar types of fashion

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wheelsgoroundincircles · 3 years

Text

The story of Swamp Rat 17: Don Garlits' most misunderstood Top Fueler (part 1)

Don Garlits’ Swamp Rat 17, the Wynn’s Liner, had a very short life in 1973 and is roundly considered to be among the few disappointments of the more than 40 Swamp Rats he campaigned. Here's the story behind this most misunderstood car.

09 Apr 2021 Phil Burgess, NHRA National Dragster Editor

Earlier this year, I wrote a column about racecar experiments that didn’t come to fruition and cited, chief among them, Don Garlits’ Swamp Rat 17, the Wynn’s Liner, which had a very short and disappointingly unsuccessful life in 1973.

I think the reason that car always leaps to the top of my “Well, that sure didn��t work” list is because it was a rare dead end for “Big Daddy,” one of the sport’s greatest innovators and chance takers. Although there are only 38 official Swamp Rats, there were some A and B versions, and the actual number well exceeds 40, according to “Big.” So, he had a pretty great batting average, yet strikeouts are going to happen, but better to go down swinging, right? Or, as hockey great Wayne Gretzky once said, “You miss 100% of the shots that you don’t take.”

[Coming later in this column: Garlits rates his five favorite Swamp Rats and five least favorite. Stay tuned for that.]

Anyway, after heaping criticism upon the car back in February, I thought it only fair to allow The Man Himself to provide the context that defines this car’s place in the sport’s history. Not sure if he’d want to discuss one of his missteps, I reached out to the sport’s most storied driver and received an enthusiastic “I’D LOVE TO!” response to my query and away we went.

Before we get to that discussion, let me provide a little more context. The other thing that always intrigued me about Garlits’ decision to build Swamp Rat 17 was that he had blown away the sport with Swamp Rat 14 (the first rear-engined winner, 1971 Winternationals) and its evolutionary successor, Swamp Rat 16, which won the 1972 Gatornationals. (Swamp Rat 15 was a front-engined car built just in case SR14 was a flop; it never ran.) After all this success, why take this detour, especially when no one else was experimenting with aerodynamics?

Turns out that while the ‘Liner didn’t make its debut until mid-1973, the idea was conceived in mid-1971, not long after Garlits had proven that the rear-engined design worked. It was at that point that Garlits’ old buddy, Jocko Johnson, whose similarly shaped entry had made huge waves in 1959 with “Jazzy” Jim Nelson at the wheel, suggested that maybe it was time to resurrect his design and have “Big Daddy” put it on one of his chassis.

“I always liked streamlining, and Jocko had never given up on the idea, but he needed a success rear-engined car to try it again,” Garlits explained.

The only rub was that Johnson needed a shorter car, a 180-inch wheelbase chassis, to fit under the body, Swamp Rat 14 and 16 were 215 inches.

I've never seen any detailed shots of the car without the body, but did stumble across this image, a 1/16th scale version that Johnson had built to show Garlits his idea. Very cool!

Johnson, a laid-back Californian, began work on the body mold in 1971 but didn’t finish it until 1972, then came to Garlits' Seffner, Fla., base to build the body, which would not be completed and the car not race-ready until Garlits was already on Swamp Rat 19 in mid-1973.

The slow pace for the Liner’s body construction was frustrating for Garlits, who was well-known for being able to build a complete car in just a few days, and in his great book, Don Garlits and His Cars, “Big” pulled no punches about the reason for the delay.

"Jocko by now was growing his 'weed' next door and stayed 'high' most of the time! On several occasions, I went next door, pulled up the plants, and burned them. Jocko just planted more and stayed high."

In anticipation of the Wynn’s Liner’s someday completion, Garlits built Swamp Rat 18, the car dubbed “Shorty,” with a 180-inch wheelbase so he could get a feel for the three-foot-shorter configuration and ran it at several AHRA events in 1972 but never felt comfortable in the car, but he felt sure that the Liner’s body would give the car stability and faster speed, just as adding the rear wing to Swamp Rat 14 had improved top-end speeds.

“18 just wanted to do funny things going down the course," he remembered. “You had to be really careful with it. I had to really slow down the steering to even make it work at all.”

The ‘Liner was finally ready early in 1973, and Garlits towed it and “Shorty” out to California to run the AHRA Grand American event at Orange County Int’l Raceway. Veteran Funny Car racer Butch Maas, finally recovered from serious burns he had suffered in the Hawaiian Funny Car the year before, was itching to drive the car, so Garlits let him and set about getting “Shorty” also qualified for the race.

There had been so much hype built about the ‘Liner, which had been featured on the cover of Car Craft magazine back in July 1972 with the cover blurb “Garlits Aims for 275 mph.” The feature had been shot and originally the blurb had targeted 250 mph (Garlits has a copy of the original mockup with 250 on it in the museum display, and kindly shot a photo for me), but the editors decided to raise more eyebrows. Although the official national record at the time was 234.37 (set by Gaines Markley in April in Seattle), Garlits had run 243.90 mph in the final round of the Gatornationals but didn't get the chance to back it up, so maybe 250 wasn't far enough "out there" for the publication.

“By the time we got the car read, [the editors] told me that 250 wasn’t enough, that they wanted to put 275 on it,” Garlits recalled. “We thought the car might go 255 or 260, but I agreed with them that 275 sounded better and more exciting.” [For the record, we wouldn’t see 275 for another 15 years, when Darrell Gwynn ran 278 in Dallas in late 1986.]

Just as had been the case when he debuted the famous rear-engined Swamp Rat 14 in 1971, Garlits’ fellow racers scoffed at Garlits’ latest project, mostly, he thinks, because if it had been successful it would have created a major sea change in the class just as Swamp Rat 14 had done. That wasn’t to be.

Maas made several attempts in the car but was spooked by its handling and ran a best speed of 180 mph. You can see by the photo here that the car didn’t yet have the bubble canopy on it, and Garlits is not sure it ever did in the car’s short lifespan (although it's visible in the Car Craft cover, Garlits says they didn't have a working cockpit hinge yet). You can also see "Big" in the background holding the bleach bottle. Although Maas couldn’t qualify the ‘Liner, Garlits was able to put "Shorty” into the show but lost in round one to Herm Petersen. “The whole trip was a disaster,” Garlits summed up in his book.

Still determined to make it work, Garlits put Don Cook in the car for the IHRA event at Lakeland Dragway in Florida. Cook had driven the short-wheelbase, rear-engined Piranha in late 1966, so Garlits figured he could get the job done, but he also was forced to lift a half-track on several passes. "They both said it was doing something funny, so I got in the car myself for a ride,” said Garlits.

“It took off kinda slow because it was so heavy, but then it was cruising along pretty well and making a decent run when all of the sudden the motor revved up. I quickly lifted and then felt a bump, like I had hit a bump in the track or something.

“We brought it back to the pit and tore it apart, but there was nothing broken in the driveline, and that’s when we figured out that the whole car had gone airborne and when lifted it came back down, and that was the bump I felt.

“Jocko thought I had sabotaged him, so he wouldn’t get any credit for the design, which is pretty ridiculous. He went to his grave never believing that the car was doing the things I said it did.”

Garlits also had concerns about the amount of nitro fumes being trapped under the body and the fact that the car was not easy to get out of. “I knew that someday it would catch fire, and that would be a helluva deal for the driver, so I just gave up on the project,” he said.

Garlits sold the car to rocket-car racers Russell Mendez and Ramon Alvarez, who envisioned turning it into a hydrogen peroxide-powered rocket car, but Mendez was killed in an exhibition pass in their Free Spirit rocket dragster at the 1975 Gatornationals, and Alvarez, a plumber by trade (who actually had done the plumbing for Garlits' house) needed cash and sold it back to "Big." Given the 'Liners inherent instability at less than 200 mph, one can only imagine what it would have done at rocket-car speed. (“It would probably have flown right up into the sky,” Garlits marveled.)

So, I asked Garlits the million-dollar question: "Is he glad he built the car, or was it just a waste of time and money?"

“It was definitely a waste of time and money, but I’m glad we did it. I enjoyed all of the projects I did, even the ones that didn’t work out, like the Sidewinder and the turbine [-powered] car. Everyone raved about the turbine engines and how powerful they could be, and that car didn't work out but it was fun to figure it out. I always loved experimenting. That’s what made it so fun. When you’re involved with projects like those, your mind is going 24x7, trying to think of all of the scenarios to make it work.

“Plus if I hadn’t gotten together with Jocko, I wouldn’t have his original streamliner in my museum or the body from the Mooneyham-Ferguson-Jackson-Faust car. That all came together because of my relationship with Jocko."

#Garlits #Swamp Rat 17 #swamp rat #don garlits #drag racing #top fuel dragster #dragster #dragstrip #drag race

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not-close-to-straight · 4 years

Text

The Thing About You (Winteriron)

So this is for @ceealaina who lets me text me random horny-for-bucky things at all hours of the night and is also nice enough to not only answer, but also not to judge (which she should, cos after my after midnight texts are FUNKY) I love you muchly and I’m glad we fangirl together.

THERE’S MORE WINTERIRON ON MY MASTERLIST

***************

“Okay so here’s the thing about Bucky.” Tony dragged a chair up to the kitchen table and turned it around so he could sit backwards, arms crossed on the back rest and chin propped comfortably. “The thing about Bucky is-- Steve, are you listening?”

“No, I’m not listening.” Steve snapped the newspaper open pointedly. “Because I’m catching up on current events and political happenings, as well as perusing coupons and having a chuckle at the funny pages. I am not listening to you wax weird about my best friend.”

“First of all, I’m waxing poetic about Bucky.” Tony huffed. “And second of all, my god you are an old man. You’re gonna have a ‘chuckle’ at the funny pages? Nobody talks like that.”

“Bucky talks like that, because he’s every bit as old as I am.” the Captain replied calmly. “In fact, he’s older than I am. So there’s a thing about Bucky, Tony. He’s ancient and its weird that you’re interested in someone sixty years older than you.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed, his jaw setting in irritation. “You know... for someone who wears spandex and glitter while running around with a frisbee, you are the least fun ever.”

“Well at least my spandex and frisbee proves I’m not trying to over compensate for anything.” Steve turned a page and raised a knowing eyebrow. “Unlike the one person on the team who armors up in a flying suit that is at least eight inches taller than him. Hows that compensating going, Tony?”

“I....” Tony huffed again. “Well I-- I’m six feet tall! I am!”

“You’re maybe five and a half feet tall, Tony. Natasha calls you pocket sized when you’re not around.” Steve turned another page. “And by the way, I don’t wear glitter. It’s just the natural sparkle of my eyes and the healthy glow of my rosy cheeks.”

“Should’ve left you as a Capsicle.” Tony threw his hands up in the air and stalked away. “I’ll talk to someone else about Bucky!”

“Oh thank God.”

***************

“So here’s the thing about Bucky.” Tony leaned against the side of the ring and watched Natasha obliterate a training dummy. “I can’t tell if I like his hands or if I just have a robot kink. Because that’s weird right? I build robots and sorta fly around in one, so having that sorta kink would be weird but also understandable, and since Bucky’s left hand is--”

“Okay.” Tasha pushed her hair out of her eyes and blew out a breath. “Tony, if you’re gonna sit here and talk about all the nasty stuff you want to do to Bucky’s hand, you’re gonna have to let me hit you. I can’t listen to this without punching something.”

“Okay, that’s fair.” He ducked under the ropes and picked up a set of gloves, motioning for her to start. “So I mean, not all that weird I’m into robotic things? Have you heard the noise his arm makes when he flexes? I wish I could make my armor make that noise but then again I feel like I’d have a boner all the time so-- OOOPH!”

Stunned and wheezing, Tony blinked up at Natasha from the ground. “Did you just knee me in the back of the head? How is that even possible?”

“Sorry.” she reached down to help him back up. “Men talk about boners and the knees start flying. Can’t help it.”

“Okay but seriously, how is that possible?” Tony smoothed down the back of his severely damaged hairstyle. “No B-words, I get it. Anyway, the thing about Bucky is that sometimes I think he’s purposefully doing things left handed so I will stare. Is that crazy? How would I even know that?”

“Well.” Natasha’s foot kicked out and damn near decimated Tony’s tummy. “You could use your words like a grown ass man and talk to him instead of letting me beat the crap outta you mid conversation.”

“I feel like you could also not try to disembowel me.” Tony pointed out. “Just-- just a thought. Disemboweling isn’t real conducive for conversation.”

“Creeping on Bucky around corners isn’t real conducive for conversation either.” she retorted. “I’m going to choke you out between my thighs now, okay?”

“Huh.” Tony looked down at himself in interest. “Look at that. Both robotic appendages and threats of death by thigh pop the proverbial B-word. Who knew?”

“I love you very much.” Natasha took him down with embarrassingly little effort, then smacked a loud kiss onto Tony’s lips as he tried to recover from his head bouncing off the mat. “Please go talk to Bucky. Stop talking to us about him, okay? Be an adult about this. You’re forty years old.”

“And pocket sized, apparently?” Tony challenged, and Tasha muttered something vaguely threatening about Steve in response. “Okay. I’ll see you later. And I love you too.”

***************

“So here’s the thing about Bucky.” Tony pushed that weird perpetual motion thing off Pepper’s desk and lay out on the surface, legs dangling off the edge and feet kicking in the air. “He has amazing thighs. Like amazing. And I’ll fully admit I didn’t know I had a thing for thighs before meeting him? But Tasha just threatened to strangle me with hers and that was way hotter than it should have been so maybe I’ve always been in to them? When we were together, was I into your thighs?”

“Tony.” Pepper did one of those sighs that sounded like it came from the very depths of her soul. “I’m waiting for a all from an international client. Could we maybe talk about how you’re in love with quite possibly the most dangerous person in the world later?”

“We could, but I’m already laying on your desk and I think Tasha cracked one of my ribs so I’ll probably be laying here all day. It’s a little hard to breathe.”

“Get off my desk, Tony.”

“Not until you tell me if you like Bucky’s thighs too.” Tony maintained. “Is it just a me thing? Or is it like, a universal Bucky thing where everyone likes watching him squat?”

“Okay.” Another one of those sighs. “If I tell you how I feel about Bucky squatting, will you leave me in peace so we don’t lose this very important client?”

“...yes?”

“I like to watch Bucky squat because his butt is frankly, ridiculous.” the redhead admitted. “The thigh thing is a you thing though, I don’t know if it’s cos you’re short and are just jealous of long legs--”

“I AM SIX FEET TALL!”

“Aw sweetie, we slept together remember? You’re actually a few inches shorter than me.” Pepper wrinkled up her nose teasingly. “And since we agreed you’d leave once I talked about Bucky’s butt, would you please get out of here so I can work?”

“Fine.” Tony grumbled and groaned and whined a little as he rolled off the desk. “I’ll find someone else to talk to.”

**************

“Brucie bear.” Tony pillowed his chin on Bruce’s shoulder, cuddling close to his favorite genius. “Listen. The thing about Bucky is--”

“I’m holding a laser and I’ll use it to cut your nose off if you breathe down my neck about Bucky’s hair.” Bruce said flatly. “Don’t test me, Tony. I sat through your ‘thing about Bucky’ speech last week when you waxed weird about how his scowl turns you on and whether or not that is some reflection on your issues with authority and really just a plea from your inner self for some structure and discipline.”

“You got all that from my ‘Bucky’s frown makes me feel like a subby bottom’ spiel?” Tony’s eyebrows all but flew off his forehead. “I was going more for, ‘maybe he’ll turn me over those Thighs of Destruction of spank me’ but now I’m worried my inner self is pleading for structure and discipline.”

“Tony, I’m warning you. Laser. Nose. Stop talking.”

“Okay but the thing about Bucky is that he’d make an excellent Dom, right?” he decided. “Firm and you know... huge.. and I’m pretty sure he could-- EEK!”

The laser swept through the air close enough to singe Tony’s curls and he backpedaled into another table shrieking, “BRUCE!”

“I warned you.” Bruce went back to his work. “And for the record, you do need structure and discipline. No one would ever argue that point.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

**************

“Here’s the thing about Bucky.” Tony stole a big handful of popcorn from Clint’s bowl and shoved it all into his mouth. “He calls me all these nicknames, right? And it shouldn’t be half as cute as it is because I don’t like nicknames. Sam called Steve honey the other day and I actually threw a book at him. But Bucky called me sweet thing last night and I think I melted a little bit.”

“Yeah?” Clint had mastered the art of playing Mario Kart one handed while cramming snacks into his mouth with the other and somehow carrying on a conversation all at the same time. “Had to go upstairs and change your panties, huh?”

"WHAT?!”

“Oh please.” Clint emptied a pack of Skittles into his mouth and kept right on going. “It’s not like you two are subtle. Bucky called you sweet thing and you squeaked and sorta crossed your legs and then disappeared upstairs. We all assumed you had to change ye olde tighty whiteys.”

“Okay well.” Tony cleared his throat. “What I did upstairs isn’t important. The thing about Bucky is he’s the first person that could do you know... that... to me without even trying. I feel like a teenager with a crush. Like if I was fifteen again I’d probably do something embarrassing in my pants if he looked at me for two long.”

“Yeah, I totally get it.” Another pack of Skittles disappeared into the bottomless pit called Clint Barton. “Sometimes he gets to lookin’ all intense and sorta soft all at the same time and you don’t know whether you should stare back or blow right up cos it’s too much, right?”

“Yes!” Tony shouted. “Yes! Finally someone gets it!”

“Or like sometimes he puts all that dumb hair up in a bun and gives himself those ‘accidental on purpose’ bangs that are somehow super sexy hanging down into his eyes?”

“YES!” Tony could have cried in relief. “Yes, holy crap. He does that! It’s crazy hot!”

“And then how he folds him arms and smolders at you? Is he pissed off? Is he massively turned on? Who knows!”

“Oh my god.” Tony grabbed at more popcorn and nearly shouted around it, “Everyone acts like I’m crazy talking about him like this but you see it too!”

“Totally see it, Tony baby.”

“Yeah, cos the thing about Bucky is he’s insanely and sort of unfairly burly and fierce! I shouldn’t want to hear him growl! What even is that?! Where did that thought come from? Who growls and why would I find that sexy? And also, the other thing about Bucky is--”

“-- that he’s standing behind you and has been for at least ten minutes.” Clint turned off the game and smecked a kiss to Tony’s cheek. “Good luck, man. Bucky, I’ll give you two the room cos I feel like things are about to get gross.”

“Ummmm.....” it was the worlds longest minute of silence as Tony sat stock still on the couch, eyes wide enough to hurt, his lungs definitely not working partly from Natasha’s workout early and partly because he was trying to just die right there so he wouldn’t have to face Bucky after saying all of... all of that.

“You gonna turn around and look at me? Or make me have th’conversation with the back of your head?” Bucky sounded like he was wearing his most lethal smolder and Tony felt a blush start somewhere around his toe nails and turn him scarlet clear to his scalp.

“Uh, listen.” He rotated very slowly on the couch, bracing himself for what was sure to be Captain America levels of disapproval. Bucky was from the forties, after all, and no one did disapproval like members of the greatest generation.

“Listen, I don’t know how much of that you heard. But I wasn’t trying to be weird or anything.” Tony flinched away from the knowing in those blue eyes, fully wanting to fold in on himself and just disappear. “Probably shouldn’t have been shouting about wanting to hear you growl or whatever but it doesn’t have to be--”

“I heard you’ve been talking about me.” Bucky interrupted and Tony flinched again. “Been chattin’ everyone up about all the different things about me?”

“Fuck my life, this is the worst conversation I’ve ever had.” Tony muttered. “Seriously Bucky just listen. If you haven’t figured it out by now, I don’t really have a filter? And I say whatever I want to say to whoever happens to be around but that doesn’t mean that I really want to--”

He thought about he’d blurted out to Rhodey during their phone call at lunch. “-- climb you like a tree. Or hear you growl. That’s not a real thing. That’s not-- it doesn’t have to be a thing, I was just talking and--”

“You know the thing about you, baby doll?” Bucky came around the couch and pulled Tony up to standing, the glint in his gaze sharpening in anticipation when the brunette shuddered as their bodies brushed together. “The thing about you is that you talk a whole lot when you’re nervous and tryna cover it up, but you don’t got a reason to be nervous right now, alright?”

“Well I--”

“The thing about you, Tony is that a fella would be real dumb to pass up the chance to get you alone.” Silver fingers brushed over Tony’s cheek then slid into his hair and Tony had to work really really hard not to make the sort of noise that meant his underwear needed changed when all the plates in Bucky’s arm shifted and realigned so the big soldier could tug lightly at the loose curls.

“The thing about you, sugar.” Bucky stepped closer and lowered his voice to what was damn near a growl and whoops there Tony went trying not to melt into a vaguely billionaire shaped puddle. “Is you got the sorta lips that keep a man up at night wonderin’ just how they taste and how good they’d look stretched around my uh--”

Bucky wet his lips and grinned when Tony eep!ed a little in shock.

“Thing about you, Tony.” Their mouths brushed just barely, not even a real kiss but damn it if Tony didn’t grab onto those stupidly big shoulders for dear life anyway. “Thing about you is I’ve been hearing all the things you like about me and it seems like we should have a talk.”

“A talk.” Tony repeated hopefully. “A talk about-- about more things that involve kissing?”

“Think we should have a talk about how the things you like about me fit into the things I like about you.” Bucky decided. “And yeah, sweet thing, I think that should involve a whole lotta kissin’. That alright with you?”

“Uh yeah, here’s the thing about me, Buck.” Tony cleared his throat and stood on his toes-- the only time in the world he’d admit he was fucking short, thank you very much-- “I will always be just fine with anything involving your mouth, okay?”

“Well that’s real good, then.” Bucky’s smile had no business being so filthy. “Cos the thing about me is that I got all sorts of ideas on exactly how to use my tongue.”

***************

“OW!” Steve shouted when a book came flying through the living room and ricocheted off his head. “What the hell!”

“Snitches get stitches!” Natasha hissed, popping up from behind the couch and scaring the Captain half to death. “Why’d you tell Tony I call him pocket sized!”

“He kept saying he was six feet tall and accusing me of wearing glitter!” Steve rubbed at the back of his head and scowled at the tiny spy. “I had to say something!”

“You could have not told him my code name for him though!” Natasha vaulted neatly over the couch and burrowed into Steve’s side. “And by the way, you do definitely wear glitter. I’ve seen Sam dust it onto your cheeks before an interview. Don’t pretend he doesn’t, I’ll break out the video footage.”

“It’s only glitter every once in a while.” Steve’s scowl deepened, then deepened again when Clint came along and asked, “Are we talking about Cap wearing glitter and Sam like, tenderly brushing it on his face? Cos that’s about the cutest shit I’ve ever seen.”

“IT’S NOT--” Steve stopped talking abruptly, his jaw just about dislocating when Bucky came walking backwards into the room, holding onto Tony with both hands and smiling down at the little brunette as Tony murmured--

“The thing about you Bucky is that your dick game is amazing.”

“Yeah well the thing about you doll, is that your ass is made for takin’ it.” Bucky murmured back, and Clint made a horrified sort of noise when Tony only made smoochy noises and returned, “Well the thing about you baby is that you have incredible thighs and I think you should put me right over them and spank me.”

“Thing ‘bout you kitten is--”

“GOD DAMN IT YOU TWO!” Another book, this one courtesy of Bruce who lobbed what was basically a dictionary at Bucky’s back. “I already kicked you out of the lab, don’t make me ban you from the Tower, JARVIS already listens to me, I swear I’ll do it!”

“Bruce is mad.” Tony giggled, and Bucky clutched him up tighter. “We should do this somewhere else where we can get naked again.”

“The thing about you, Tony.” Bucky drawled and palmed low over that ridiculous butt. “Is that you always got the best ideas. Lead the way.”

Tony flashed a triumphant smile at the room over his shoulder and Bruce grumbled, “The thing about me? Is that I will Hulk out and smash them if they don’t get less gross soon.”

“Yeah, I second that.”

“Absolutely.”

“Nah, I think it’s cute.” Clint disagreed. “They kiss and tell each other everything they like about each other? It’s adorable. Bucky gets to be soft and sweet, Tony gets to be spoiled and everything. Adorable.”

“Uh huh.” Nat sounded unimpressed. “What’s the real reason you’re pro- that mess?”

Clint pursed his lips stubbornly and only when Steve gave his most disapproving throat-clear did he admit, “I texted Sam about it and we’ve got a bet for how long it takes Tony to propose to Bucky. I said ten days tops, He thinks it will be a week.”

“Six.” Natasha disagreed, and pulled a fifty from her pocket. “Tony’s never gone more than a week without doing something absolutely bonkers. It will be six days.”

“Damn it.” Steve rummaged around for some cash too. “It will be four days, because Bucky’s been stupid about Tony for at least a year and he’s on this weird kick about seizing the day and never letting an opportunity slip by.”

“Tomorrow.” Bruce said from his chair. “Bucky’s going to slip up and say something about how he likes that Tony is spontaneous and Tony’s going to say ‘hey you know what would be really spontaneous’? and the jet will take off and they’ll go to Vegas.”

“...what?”

“... what?!”

“Fifty bucks says I’m right.” he shrugged. “Just wait and see.”

************

Later that night, Bucky rolled to his side and ran his left hand down Tony’s back, along the bump of his spine and up and over the curve of his rear. “You know one’a my favorite things about you, Tony?”

“Wazzat?” Tony was fucked out and drooling, barely coherent against the pillows. “Gonna say somethin’ bout my butt again?”

“Always.” Bucky grinned and so did Tony. “But I was gonna say the best thing about you is how spontaneous you are. You always got good ideas and then your eyes light up all pretty and you get this gorgeous smile and then you’re off runnin’ to do whatever th’hell you thought of. Maybe now I’ll get to be a part of it all, huh?”

“Whatever you want, babe.” Tony scooched over and pressed a kiss to Bucky’s lips, then his eyes lit up and his mouth curved up in a smile-- “Hey you know what would be really spontaneous....?”

*******************

SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE CHAPTER!

*******************

@ceealaina @izziebladez @cwar1864 @hausoffro @lookuplaughing @tonystarkisanangel @multishippinglife @girlnic @iam93percentstardust @water-colouredmemories @paranormalmoonlight5 @igotloki @moosette05 @wayward-student-philosopher @kaz-brekkers-gloves @atomicfandombomb@1fuckingshitup69 @agentlokii @ships-galore

#ncts fics #winteriron #tony stark #bucky barnes

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needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas · 3 years

Note

sooga sitting between kohga legs while hes on his throne, with his cock on sooga mouth not letting him touch his master OR himself

You are SO big brained, salsa. I love your ideas, I love your art, you are a blessing to this fucking blog, send any fucking requests your ass wants.

The Yiga clan loved to gather information. Having said that, it also made them quite notorious for spreading MIS information. As in, you’d constantly catch the members spreading rumors with one another. Only true and honest facts were given to Kohga himself, but amongst each other, their imagination went wild. Not that Kohga didn’t hear every single one. He may seem lazy to some, but Kohga was ever listening, and this new rumor REALLY got under his skin. The rumor that Sooga and him were together, and that Sooga was top. He didn’t mind everyone shipping them in the slightest, but the idea of HIM being in charge? He was so insulted, so OFFENDED. He just had to prove them wrong. Kohga got himself comfy in his favorite seat, sighing in content.

“Alright, I need my appreciation time, and Sooga here, now.”

Kohga hated the idea of royalty, but damn did he enjoy being treated like a royal. Blademasters, foot soldiers, AND Sooga appeared before him, as if by magic. The foot soldiers brought him his usual treats; bananas, freshly shaved ice with all types of nice syrups, and even sauteed nuts. Lovely spread, honestly. Kohga looked through his options, and motioned towards the plate of nuts. He helped himself to a small handful, and as he nibbled his treats, he motioned to Sooga.

“So, have you heard the new rumors?”

“Please specify, my lord. The foot soldiers do enjoy muttering amongst themselves.”

Kohga wiped the crumbs off his stomach (with the soldiers looking enviously as he did so. Some of these guys were just absolute perverts), and shook his head.

“Nope. The rumor that YOU’RE the one fucking ME.”

The members next to them tried not to giggle, clearly finding it funny. But not Sooga. Sooga cleared his throat, making the soldiers silence themselves. He gave a light bow of his head.

“I apologize that such a rumor dishonors you, Master Kohga. I could trace where these lyng roots lie, and punish them accordingly.”

“No need, Sooga. I found them already.”

Sooga (as well as the other members) cocked their heads, clearly curious. Kohga helped himself to a bite of shaved ice, before wiping his mouth (where it would have been anyway) with the back of his hand. He sighed as he locked eyes with Sooga.

“Don’t play dumb, Sooga.”

“I...beg your pardon?”

“YOU started it!”

Kohga stood up, and pointed a finger in accusation at him. Sooga gave a shake of his head.

“Master Kohga, I would do no such thing! I would only speak honest truths in your ho-”

Kohga held his hand up, silencing him. He gestured for Sooga to get down, and he obeyed, getting on one knee, and putting his head down. The proper form of a Yiga apology. Kohga sat back down on his chair, trying to act upset. The rumor being spread around was the fact part, but he knew Sooga wouldn’t ever start something like that. He was too noble, too focused on the cause to busy himself with rumors. But this made things so much more fun.

“I CAN’T believe you, Sooga. I expected more from you. I don’t mind the idea of you saying we fuck, because we do, and I’m not ashamed to admit that. But the idea of you saying that YOU’RE in charge of me? That’s just insulting.”

Of course Sooga wouldn’t say anything in his own defense. One, Kohga was stubborn, and two, Sooga would never talk his way out of a punishment. Kohga opened his legs wide open, and snapped his fingers. He was fed a piece of a banana, and as he chewed, he pretended to be deep in thought. Sooga lightly cleared his throat.

“I beg for your forgiveness, but I will accept your fury.”

He knew he’d say something like that. Such a good, good boy, his Sooga. Sooga grumbled, before patting his knee. Sooga crawled forward, stopping right in front of Kohga’s lap.

“Good. Because you ARE going to get punished, Sooga. Give me your mouth.”

There was a mumble of confusion amongst the members, but Sooga knew exactly what he meant. Sooga adjusted his face mask, showing just the mouth part of his face. Everyone gave a light gasp, as if Kohga had stripped down completely naked right in front of them. It was considered shameful to show ANY part of your face, and even showing a piece of your chin was like your pants falling down. Kohga held onto his chin, lightly brushing his thumb against his bottom lip. He had seen his face, but he had NEVER touched it. Aside from a little scar on his lip, Sooga’s features were very soft, very pleasant to touch.

“You understand, I’m not punishing you for funsies. You’re my right hand, so you need to be a step above everyone. You messing up is NOT accepted here, at all.”

“I understand fully, my Master.”

Even watching his lips move was hot. Even watching his tongue help him form words did something to Kohga. He had a good, sharp chin to boot, and Kohga couldn’t help but feel at the little spot of hair growing at his chin. Sooga was a VERY handsome man, almost as good looking as yours truly. Almost. Kohga reached down, and un did a part of his uniform, pulling his cock out. To say he had everyone’s eyes was NO exaggeration. Even members that were just passing by doing their daily duties moved just a bit slower to get a good look. Kohga’s cock was different from Sooga’s; shorter, but VERY thick. It didn’t have as much of a curve to it as Sooga’s either, but he DID share the bunch of black pubic hair (though his was more plentiful, as well as more curly). Either way, he could tell everyone was drooling behind their masks, just wishing they could get a taste. Kohga made Sooga look up at him.

“Now, you’re going to put me in your mouth. You aren’t going to suck, and I’m not gonna skull fuck you. You’re just gonna sit there, mouth full of cock, and not move. Understand?”

“I-I mean I would- I’m not, that is to say-”

Kohga liked watching this usually confident man be brought so low. Kohga rolled his eyes, and pushed his head forward, groaning in satisfaction as he stuffed himself fully into that mouth. Kohga gave himself a minute to get used to the feeling, before relaxing in his seat.

“There we go. Now, who here thinks Sooga is in charge?”

Everyone shook their heads no. Good. Kohga snapped his fingers, and another banana was fed to him. This was the life.

“Master Kohga?”

One of the Blade masters chimed in. Aka, the ones that just LOVED kissing his ass. Kohga chuckled, loving the idea of another big, strong man being overly flirty with him. Kohga held the Blade Master’s chin in his hand, watching him nearly melt.

“Yes?”

“I just...wanted to say, I’m sorry on Sooga’s behalf. You deserve far better than someone so close to you starting such a rumor.”

“Sooga HAS been bad hasn’t he? And here he is, still trying.”

Kohga felt him try to move. He was trying to actually suck him off. While it was cute, it wasn’t what he asked for. And even worse, he DARED to rub at himself. Kohga lightly patted the Blade master’s cheek.

“Do me a favor, help me out with his hands.”

He nodded, seeming to understand perfectly well what he wanted. Grabbing some rope, he practically yanked Sooga’s hands behind his back, and tied them together firmly. Kohga gave Sooga’s cheek a bit of a firm pat, chuckling to himself.

“I wasn’t gonna do that, but you were touching yourself. This wasn’t supposed to be fun. This is punishment, Sooga. You sit there, and you do nothing. Look at me with that mouth full of cock, and tell me you understand.”

That's what he loved about Sooga. He can understand him just by looking right at his face. One of the foot soldiers took another careful step forward, offering him more snacks. Kohga happily let himself be fed and treated, and when you paired that with the endless praises and glances he was getting from many of the clan members, he could tell it was getting to Sooga. His breath was getting hotter, his look was getting hazy, and he kept groaning against his cock. And did Kohga make it worse? Absolutely. In between the constant praises he was getting from his soldiers, Kohga kept petting his head, and making quite a public display with his compliments.

“Who’s a pretty boy?”, “Who’s a good boy?”, and Sooga’s favorite, “Who’s MY boy?”

Each question, each stroke of his head made Sooga tremble something fierce. It felt incredible, but it was killing him. He was being treated like he was owned by Kohga, right in front of everyone. Mouth visible, hands tied, he should be ashamed. But he was honored. Master Kohga chose HIS mouth to have his cock in, HIS head to pet and fond over. One of the foot soldiers (who had previosly been giggling and feeding Kohga his favorite fruit) looked underneath Sooga, and lightly whistled.

“Master Kohga, he’s leaking all over the floor.”

Kohga seemed to find that amusing, lightly smacking his cheek. Even THAT made him throb.

“Sooga, you wanna cum don’t you?”

Sooga nodded, careful not to move too much, less he invoke more of his fury. Kohga ran his fingers across his scalp, and he could tell Sooga got quite the goosebumps.

“Well, you’re not going to. No one is gonna cum today, because no one earned it. I won’t even cum in your throat, and I know you want that.”

Kohga didn’t know how long he sat there. He just knew that Sooga waited patiently, being his own little cock warmer, while he was being fed and loved. Combine that with the shame Sooga was made to bear, was it any wonder his mind lost itself to lust? Kohga eventually decided that he had enough, and slowly pulled Sooga off of his dick. Sooga’s tongue hung out of his mouth like a mutt, and slobber stained not only his lap, but Sooga’s uniform. Kohga watched the hot breath make bouts of steam in the cold night air, and damn was that something tasty. Kohga leaned down a bit to Sooga, not caring how much everyone was staring at his own half hard cock.

“I want you to remember something. I want you to remember how I taste, and I want you to remember I’M in charge of you.”

Sooga gave a faint, almost tired nod. Sooga was a big, hunky slut, and Kohga adored that about him. Kohga leaned back, and gestured to himself.

“Tuck me away, Sooga.”

Sooga was clearly in mourning, but he obeyed, fingers lightly fumbling. Kohga chuckled, giving a light shake of his head.

“You’ve done okay. But we can do better. You’re going to stand there, and let everyone see how hard you get for me. Understand?”

“C-completely, my M-master.”

“Oh, and Sooga, one more thing, before I take my nap.”

Kohga’s hand clamped around his throat, giving it a nice, firm squeeze, just where he knew he liked it. And he lowered his voice, making sure Sooga didn’t miss a single beat.

“I love you, Sooga.”

He knew from the way his body quivered, knew the way he swore, that he just came. Kohga chuckled, letting him go, before turning to his side, and falling asleep to the tune of everyone muttering absolute adoration for him.

Sooga was REALLY a good boy.

#asks #lemon #kohga #sooga

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artnerd1123 · 3 years

Text

A Familiar World

Bewitched ——————————————-

The adventures of Theodore continue. Figuring out how he feels about what he saw in town is... well. Difficult. But he’s gotta make a decision sometime. Featuring fun times with his siblings and a not-so-fun time with his parents.

The masterpost for AFW can be found here. The chapter post for AFW can be found here.

——————————————-

i am once again cutting chapters up, but that’s ok!!! i’m having fun and getting to write these dynamics is rlly interesting! hopefully the next one’ll be a lil shorter, but we’ll see X] in the meantime, here’s this!

and uh, warning for journal getting into a fight with his parents (nothing physical, but there’s some gaslighting to be mindful of)

The sun shone brightly down on the farm, a light breeze rustling the remains of cornstalks in the field. The wagon- still half full of harvest- was parked next to the barn. A thick cloth blanket kept its cargo protected from the elements. At least, mostly. The horses in the nearby pasture eyed the visible corn wistfully. But besides the horses, crops, and breeze, not much was moving outside. The morning chores were long done. Now was the time for relaxing and play. From the giggling and shouting from the barn, a certain group of siblings was taking advantage of that. Up in the hayloft, Theodore and his younger siblings were fooling around. The twins were wrestling in the loose hay, and Elise was busy trying to climb up one of the support beams. Theodore had draped himself across another beam, square over the middle of the loft. His eyes flicked cautiously towards the edge every so often- but he’d be ok. He’d fallen and tumbled into the hay enough to know it would catch him much gentler than the barn’s dirt floor. He had other things to focus on at the moment, anyway. A beat up journal sat in front of him, chock full of loose papers and ink-stained scraps. They stuck out the sides and from under the cover. With all the story ideas, memories, and thoughts crammed into it, it was a wonder the book was still together. He’d have to get a new one soon. But for now, his quill scratched away at the page before him. He’d been working hard on recording every detail he could about the other day’s encounter. He felt as if he’d seen something precious- something more astounding than any legend- and he refused to let it slip from his mind. Writing this down needed his undivided attention. Of course, his siblings thought otherwise. “Hey, Theo! Y’all gonna come down from there?” Nilo called, arm locked around Tyler’s neck. Tyler squirmed and pushed at him playfully. “I think Tyler could use yer help!” “Naw, I do not! Yer about ta need ‘em though!” Tyler snickered. With a sudden jerk, the boy threw himself against the hay, sending Nilo toppling over his shoulder. The two laughed and jeered as they scrambled around, but Theodore didn’t pay them much mind. “Mmh, yea, uh, jus a sec,” he mumbled, eyes scanning over his work. He felt like he’d gotten the stranger’s routine written out ok. But he just couldn’t capture the strange smoke they’d been messing with. Not smoke, his mind muttered, magic. The word sent a zing down to his fingertips. He couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. Last week, he would’ve firmly said bad. But now, he just… wasn’t sure. It honestly felt more like a thrill. As if he were staring down a wolf, but it was crouched and wagging like a playful dog. Oh, good simile, he thought, hastily scribbling it in the journal’s margins, I’ll have to use that somewhere later. He propped himself up on his elbows, glancing over the page. Almost full… would he have to cordon off a whole new section of his personal records for this? He wouldn’t mind, it was just… well, buying new ones could get expensive… A voice behind him knocked him out of his thoughts. “Hey, earth ta’ scribbles! Y’all alive?!” Theodore pulled a face- scribbles??? What???- glancing around for the offending speaker. Elise sat on a beam across from him, kicking her legs. Her smirk and little giggles confirmed it had been her. Theodore stared at her for a minute. “... what did y’all jus call me?” he asked. “Scribbles,” Elise snickered, “y’all like it?” “Aw- hell no,” Theodore snorted, shaking his head. He set his quill down, shifting to face her better. “Awful. Try again, lil lady.” “Well y’all weren’t answerin to theo!” she huffed. “Or theodore!” Tyler piped up from below him. Nilo nodded, picking bits of hay out of his hair. “Or anythin’ el- AUGH-” Whatever else he was going to say got lost as Tyler tackled him into the hay again. Theodore and Elise just exchanged a look. “If y’all’re gonna call me a nickname, call me somethin else,” he said. “Scribbles? C’mon, y’all can do better’n that.” “Hmm… m’kay,” Elise nodded slowly. “I think I got a couple ideas…” The corners of her mouth twitched mischievously. Theodore knew that look. Oh boy. How big of a mistake did I jus make? “How ‘booout… inky?” She said, blinking innocently as he tried not to smile. “Elise, tha’s even worse!” he replied. “Mmm alphabet soup?” she smirked. “Oh- revaew no-” Theodore guffawed, shaking his head. “Awful. Try again.” “Ah, I got it!” Elise clapped her hands together, grin as wide as a river. “Quillface!” Such was the name that broke Theodore’s composure. He lost it, clinging tightly to the beam below him to stop from falling off. Oh Revaew- yeah, he’d made a mistake alright. Nilo and Tyler quit tussling in confusion. Through teary eyes, Theodore could see them look to Elise for explanation. He couldn’t manage to get out more than a few wheezing “no, don’t-”s before her haughty grin passed its verdict. “Theodore’s new nickname is quillface,” she declared proudly. “QUILLFACE?!” Tyler shrieked, his shrilly voice dissolving into giggles. Nilo wasn’t too far behind, cracking a delighted smile. “I think it fits!” Nilo beamed. “It’s an attention grabber if I ever heard one!” “We- we oughta tell dean ‘n carrie-” Tyler wheezed. “Oh, of course! Everyone’s gotta know about Theo’s new name!” Elise grinned. “ABSOLUTELY NOT!” Theodore squawked, sputtering between bouts of laughter. He waved a hand to gather their attention, doing his best to breathe through his cackling. “Y’all are not gonna call me quillface, good revaew-” “Then what’dya want us to call you, huh?” Tyler teased. “Y’all gotta give us somethin to work with,” Nilo said. “I gave ya plenty’a options!” Elise chimed in, crossing her arms in mock offense. “Listen- y’all want a nickname? Fine, fine,” Theodore sighed. “Y’all can call me… uhh…” He glanced around for a moment. His eyes fell on his record book. He’d been needing a pseudonym for awhile now. And he… did like the idea of a writer-esque name mashed with “Drapht.” Something with a nice ring to it. Something like… He snapped, a bright grin rising to his face. “Journal!” he hummed, “y’all can call me journal.” “Journal?” Elise echoed, blinking. “... i mean, y’all were writin in that thing all mornin,” Nilo said. “And y’all’re what ya do, I guess,” Tyler shrugged. “Guess we should call you two punchy ‘n kicks then, eh? With all’a’y’all’s horseplay?” Theodore joked. The twins both clamored to protest, missing the obvious irony in the fact that they were still somewhat tangled up in the hay. And how they proved the point by dissolving back into tussling. Theodore settled back down on his beam, one foot dangling lazily. Yeah. That was about right. He reached for his quill, shifting to face his records once again. “Aw- c’mon, Theo! We wanna play!” Elise whined. He glanced over at her, a brow raised. “I’m here, ain’t I? I’m busy!” “Busy bein boring. What’re y’all writin in there thas’ so important anyway?” Elise huffed. Theodore opened his mouth to retort, but the words died in his throat. Wait. Could he tell them what happened the other day? Should he tell them? His parents hadn’t said no, but… well… “... Journal? Hellooooo?” Elise called, waving a hand. He blinked, shaking himself back to reality. “What was that? Y’all keepin secrets?” “Uh- not- not exactly-” he stammered, trying to cover his tracks. But his smile was lopsided, and his jerky movements too obvious. Elise’s eyes glimmered eagerly. “Ohoho… y’all’re keepin secrets,” she grinned. “Elise- no-” “Nilo!!! Tyler!!! Yer brother’s keepin secrets!!!” she cackled. The twins looked up immediately, perked up like coyotes in a chicken coop. Oh revaew. With the three of them staring him down, he really had no choice. “... well… uh… oh, fine,” Theodore sighed. “Jus keep it quiet, m’kay?” “O’course.” “Wouldn’t think otherwise!” “Y’all can count on it.” “Ok, good.” Theodore glanced towards the barn doors. No movement. No sound. Just the breeze and the sun beating down on the dirt. When he looked back to his siblings, they were busy nudging and giggling at each other, eager as ever for storytime. Alright. Yeah. This was ok. Shifting to sit upright, he clapped his hands together. They all sat to attention, eyes gleaming and gazes fixed on him. “... so… y’all remember the other day we were at town? An’ we had to leave early?” Theodore started. When he got a nod, he continued. “Well, somethin’ happened at the town outskirts ta’ make ma ‘n pa freak out so bad. And I was there. Y’see, there was a stranger who blew in, an’ they were doin somethin’ real interestin at the edge’a town...”

~~~

The sun had moved across the sky, almost right atop the barn, before movement reigned again. The twins burst out of the barn with fistfuls of hay, shouting as they tossed them at each other. Theodore was still up in the hayloft with Elise- she was having trouble getting down from the beam. Theodore tucked his journal into its little nook in the wall, setting the loose boards back into place. Elise was still chattering about his story as he turned towards a pile of bales. “-and mom jus yanked ya all the way back ta the cart?” she was asking, eyes wide. “Mhm,” Theodore nodded. He grunted as he tugged a bale of hay over. Scrambling on top of it, he reached up for his sister’s hands. “She was madder’n a trampled rattler. ‘M really not sure why, though. The stranger wasn’ hurtin nobody.” “Yeah, but… they were a magic user,” Elise said hesitantly. “Ma ‘n pa said they’re bad, right?” She shimmied her way down into Theodore’s arms. He let out a soft “oof” as she dropped, but he got her to hit the hay softly. “That… yeah, that’s what they say,” Theodore admitted. “... just… I dunno. I don’t think somethin so intricate ‘n beautiful could be that bad. Ma ‘n pa didn’ say people could do stuff like th’ stranger did with magic. They jus said it’ll make ya inta a lazy monster. I doubt someone lazy would be doin alla those flips.” “And yer sure ya didn’ see any claws or fangs?” Elise asked. He nodded without a thought. “I didn’ see nothin,” he assured her. “But- well, we don’ need to think too hard about it. They’re gone now. I jus thought it was neat.” “Fair ‘nuff,” Elise shrugged. She grabbed a fistful of hay on her way towards the ladder, humming happily to herself. Theodore followed after her, waiting at the top as she climbed down. She looked up at him once her feet hit the floor. “Y’all better hurry down ‘re yer gonna miss the fun this time!” she hollered, waving her handful of hay. Theodore laughed, carefully maneuvering himself over the ladder. “I will, I will! Jus gimme a minute!” he called back. “Scaredy cat!!!” Elise jeered. “Y’all wouldn’ say that if ya fell off the loft like I have!” he shot back. Taking a breath, he stuck one leg off the loft, feeling for the ladder. He didn’t move again until he had a good foothold. He slid himself down to get his hands around the sides, grabbing on tight as his other foot fumbled for the wooden slats. Only once his whole weight was held did he exhale. He sat there for a second just to make sure. Good. Ok. He was ok. Now he just had to scurry on down. All was going well until a sharp voice cut through the cheerful laughs outside. Theodore didn’t notice it at first. He was too busy lowering foot after foot, hand after hand, not wanting to take his eyes off the ladder. Almost down, almost down. He had this. Or, he thought he did. “THEODORE SHERMAN DRAPHT!” The name- his name- was bellowed loud enough to snatch his attention away from the ladder. His head whipped up, body tensing up enough to jerk his grip off of the wood. For one terrifying second, gravity seemed to drag his body away. Theodore’s hands shot out like lightning, snatching the wood so hard he knew he’d given himself splinters. But he didn’t care. He was too busy wondering what he’d done. He glanced skittishly toward the barn doors. A shadow darkened them, hands settled on hips, shoulders hiked up and tense. He knew that pose. Just like he knew the shout that followed it. “THEODORE, GET OUT HERE THIS INSTANT!” Ah. His mother. Theodore felt his stomach settling like a rock in the sea as he hurriedly finished his descent. Oh revaew. What happened now?

Theodore stood in his parents’ room, spine straight and hands clasped behind his back. His shoulders were squared, and he dared not reach his twitching fingers up to smooth his hair down. Even if the rather rough trip in here skewed it all over. And sorting it out would soothe him. He couldn’t move. His father’s disapproving gaze was more paralyzing than any snakebite. That, and he was just trying to last in the burning fury of his mother’s berating. “-came out to see Tyler and Nilo throwing hay at each other with some- some- dirty sorcerer’s words- trying to practice magic on my farm-” she was spitting, gaze searing as a brand. He squirmed a bit, doing his best to keep his eyes on her. It was hard. His gaze flitted across the room every time her voice raised. And when she was angry, she always spoke loud. He waited until she took a breath to pipe up. “I’m- I’m sorry, ma,” he tried, “I didn’ think it’d be a big deal-” “Of course you didn’t,” his mother snapped. “You don’t think about anything.” He winced at that, unable to keep his gaze from skittering to the floorboards. That’s- that wasn’t true. He did think. He’d dithered over telling his siblings for at least a day or two. Even now, he’d only told when they found him out. His fists clenched as his mother continued. “What have we told you about how dangerous magic is?! About how not to let it spread?!” “I- y’all said it’s bad fer us,” he mumbled, “bad fer everyone, a-an we should stay away.” “Exactly. An’ that shoulda been the end of it,” his mother snarled. “So why in the hell were y’all tellin yer siblings about what y’all saw in town?!” “I- it didn’- I jus- they- w-we were jus-” “What’ve we told you about thinking your sentences through before you speak?” his father sighed. Theodore clamped his mouth shut. Think, don’t just stammer, y’all oughta know better, he chided himself. He took a shaky breath, trying not to focus on how his mother’s foot tapped, and his father’s fingers drummed. Eventually, he forced his eyes to meet theirs again. “It… It didn’ look like magic t’me,” he explained slowly. “There was nothin threatenin. I didn’ even realize it was magic till the stranger said so.” “You… didn’t realize it was magic?” his mother echoed, disbelief dripping off her tongue. “N-no, ma’am,” he mumbled. He felt his cheeks grow hot as she scoffed. “Like- Like I said, I didn’ see anythin scary, ‘er any’a the stuff you’n pa said to look out for.” No darkness. No laziness. No monsters. No traps or snares or brambles. Nothing like what they’d been drilling into him since he could crawl. Just someone having fun flipping around and making towers of golden smoke. Which, yeah, that was magic. He believed it. But why in Revaew’s wide world did their description of “magic” not line up? Not one thing they’d told him to sniff out magic had helped him in town. It wasn’t even remotely scary. What right did they have to drag him from a danger that wasn’t even there? A thought popped hastily into his head. It was out of his mouth before he could stop it. “Have y’all even seen magic for yerselves, anyway?” Theodore’s hand ached to swipe up and cover his mouth. He wanted those words back. He wanted them back now. It was a good question- the right question- but with the way his parents’ faces flickered from incredulous to outraged... Shit. He needed to watch himself. “Have we- have we ever- ever seen-” his mother sputtered. “Theodore, that’s not your place to ask,” his father said harshly. “We’d know magic when we see it. It looks like what we’ve told you. End of story.” “But- but that’s not what I saw!” Theodore blurted. He cursed himself again, but he needed the words out. “I saw somethin’ that was pretty ‘n careful ‘n delicate, nothin like lazy destruction or evil monsters! Y’all- y’all saw what they did too, magic isn’t like that!” “It is like that, and it is what happened in town,” his father insisted, scowl deepening. “You were there, Debora. You saw it yourself.” “I did,” she nodded, “and it was jus as nasty as I thought. The sorcerer musta done somethin to our eyes so it seemed different, that’s all.” Theodore’s train of thought hit a snag in the tracks. Wait. Their eyes? What? Where did that factor in? They were just doin’ smoky tower magic, nothin happened to our eyes. They didn’ even do magic in our direction. He opened his mouth to protest, but his mother cut him off. “Revaew, look at em- that daggum filthy wizard has- has bewitched our son,” she spat. She swept her hand in his direction, earning a flinch and a step back. “He ain’t seein any sense! What’re we gonna do with ‘em?!” “... give him time, Debora,” his father said. “Spells don’t last forever.” He hadn’t moved, arms still crossed and gaze still harsh. But there was a menacing glimmer in his eye. The second he saw it mirrored in his mother, he felt as if the room became an icebox. A beat of silence passed. Theodore swallowed down more words that bubbled up, watching as his parents exchanged a look. He stood stock still and quiet. If you asked him later, he’d say he could swear he felt frost climbing up his legs. “... y’all’re not ta speak of magic again,” his mother finally said. “Not so long as y’all live in this house.” “Not to your siblings, your friends, yourself, anyone,” his father added. “Magic- all magic- is a curse. If we see y’all spreadin around that sorcerer’s hex again, yer gonna be worse than grounded,” his mother said curtly. “Understood?” Though his mind churned and bucked, crying mutiny and injustice, Theodore forced himself to nod. “Ya swear it?” his mother pressed. “I… I-I swear it,” Theodore choked out. As the words left him, the tension in his father’s shoulders eased, and his mother’s brow smoothed. Approval at last. He tried to ignore the frozen bile in the back of his throat. “We gotta talk to yer siblings still, but yer free ta go,” his mother said. “Remember what we talked about, Theodore,” his father warned. “I... I will, pa. Don’ worry,” Theodore mumbled. He couldn’t leave the room fast enough.

Nilo, Tyler, and Elise all stood against the wall in the hallway. Though their faces begged for reassurance, he couldn’t meet their eyes. He just let his feet carry him through the house, gaze glued to the floor. When he opened the door, it was glued to the grass. Then the dirt path. Then the floor of the barn. Though his body shook with barely acknowledged fear, he clambered up the ladder and back into the loft. It was only when he tucked himself into a dark, high corner that he finally let himself think. Questions swirled and lashed in his head, each more pointed than the last. Why couldn’t he tell people about what he saw? Why didn’t the magic look like they said? Why did they insist his eyes were wrong? Why had his mother called him bewitched when he tried to say they were wrong? Did they even know magic at all? Were they trying to hide things? He didn’t know. He didn’t know. He didn’t have answers, and the more he thought, the more frustrated he got. By the time he felt tears trickling down his cheeks, he knew he had to make some kind of decision. Even if the idea scared him. Taking a shaky breath, Theodore scrubbed the tears from his face. He unfolded himself from the corner he’d crammed himself in. Dropping lightly to the hay, he strode over to his hidden nook. The floorboards creaked under his hands as he reached for his journal. The beat up cover looked ready to fall apart. But it’d persevered this long. It still held so much precious knowledge. It could still hold more. Just like him. Theodore sat down in the middle of the loft, scribbling away once again. Though this time, an air of purpose surrounded him. A flame of determination lit his thoughts, illuminating the words on the page. If his parents weren’t gonna tell him the truth about magic, he’d find it out himself. ‘Anyone can use magic, kid,’ the stranger’s words echoed. ‘Even you. You just gotta dig for it.’ Dig is just what I’ll do, Theodore thought. I had a bad landin. Not so much on my feet. But I can learn. I will learn. And I’m gonna hit the ground running.

#afw #a familiar world #afw chapter #my story #arty writes #journal sherman drapht #woooooo #i keep having too much fun writing scenes slkdjfs #for the record i think it comes across well!#i jus... get excited LKSDJDFK #n e way #poor journ has a mixed bag of a time here :')#we do get the first mention of his nickname tho! so! progress :D #lsdkjfskl hope y'all enjoy-

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kawaiikichi · 4 years

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Were We? (Saiou Week Day 7)

@saiouweek

Surprise, surprise, I actually managed to write something for Saiou Week! I feel like it could also fall under the prompt “Past Life” for Day 2 but because the past life in this references to them during the killing game and their present life is something completely different, I decided to just post it under free day.

I hope you all like it! :D

Title: Were We?

Prompt: Shuichi’s Birthday or Free Day

Summary: Shuichi has spent over three hundred years as a Grim Reaper, roaming the streets of Tokyo and leading deceased souls to the afterlife. One day, he runs into a purple-haired male whom he has seen in his dreams and it makes him feel emotions he hasn’t felt in god knows how long.

One-Shot Notes: Inspired by the Kdrama Goblin with Shuichi as the Grim Reaper and Kokichi as Sunny; their past life is them in the killing game while their present life is with Shuichi as the grim reaper and Kokichi as a human

Warnings: A sprinkling of angst, NDRV3 spoilers; read at your own risk!

Read on under the cut!

Shuichi walked along the sidewalk, the crisp autumn breeze ruffling his black hair and making his long, black trench coat flutter with each step he took. He stuffed his leather glove-clad hands into his pockets, hoping to warm them as he walked to his destination.

He had no souls to collect and take back to his tea shop until the afternoon, so he decided to take a walk and get himself some coffee before heading to the first accident that was supposed to take place. He also wanted to get away from Rantaro, the immortal goblin that he’s been rooming with as of late. His singing was obnoxious, anyway.

Upon arriving at the coffee shop he frequented, he was met with the warm and comforting smell of baked sweets and freshly brewed coffee. The barista at the counter greeted him, a wide smile on his face. Shuichi greeted him in response as he grabbed for an empty medium-sized cup.

“Americano with no sugar and no cream, correct?” he asked.

“Yeah, that’s correct. You know me well, Naegi-kun.” Shuichi told him.

“Well, you come here so often that I know your order by now!” Makoto slid a small plate with a cream cheese danish on it across the counter. “Here’s your danish as well, Saihara-kun.” he said.

“Thank you.” Shuichi replied.

After paying, he went to sit at the window bar. He nibbled on his danish as he watched passerbys walk the streets. He let his mind wander, and just like it usually did, it went to a male whose face he was unable to see.

Recently, Shuichi has been having dreams involving him. They always took place in what the grim reaper assumed to be a school, but it gave off prison vibes and it rubbed Shuichi the wrong way. But what happened between him and the male in that prison-esque school building could only be summarized as eventful and fun.

The male seemed to be a pain in the ass at times, lying all the time and pulling pranks on other people that were at the school, but the times they spent together were nice. They played games in the dining hall, hid away together in the casino, and read books in the basement library until they fell asleep on each other, blankets wrapped around each other with the male’s head on his shoulder and his head resting against the male’s.

These dreams were filled with happiness and love confessions whispered against each other’s lips as they pressed against each on the couch in the AV room, the film they were watching long forgotten. The Shuichi in those dreams was overjoyed and he looked at the male in his arms with love, which confused the grim reaper when he woke up from that particular dream.

Never in his three hundred years of life had he felt such an emotion so raw and passionate.

Fueled by his curiosity, he looked forward to these dreams. He wondered about how the Shuichi in his dreams interacted with this male he was dating and if these two were able to get out of the school that held them captive and away from the black and white robotic bear that played them like a fiddle in this killing game they were thrown into, living happily ever after.

But what the grim reaper dreamed of last night was anything but nice. In fact, it resembled a nightmare. Everything was smeared in darkness and steeped in the pungent, coppery scent of blood. There was mourning over the execution of a guy named Gonta, whose heart was made of gold and who wouldn’t dare hurt a fly (literally). There was screaming, shouting, tears, and words that pierced through the heart like sharpened blades and spilled blood everywhere without mercy, the dream eventually ending with images of a bloodied hydraulic press.

The way the dream ended last night unsettled Shuichi. Those images were still fresh in his mind as he took a sip from his Americano. Bitterness coated his taste buds, but it wasn’t the pleasant kind that he was accustomed to. Instead, it made his nose crinkle and his body tense from the intensity of it.

He didn’t bother finishing this coffee this time and wolfed down his danish before heading out, hoping that the subtle sweetness would overpower the bitterness that lingered in his mouth.

He eventually found himself strolling along a bridge, which seemed unusually quiet for a Monday morning. Well, save for a nearby jewelry booth that he spotted out of the corner. His eyebrow twitched.

Is that even allowed? he asked himself.

He shook his head, clicking his teeth before sighing.

“Whatever. It doesn’t concern me.” he said.

He started to walk past the booth when the owner of the booth called out to him.

“Hey, Mister Handsome in Black!” a chirpy voice called out.

Shuichi came to a stop, wanting nothing more than to tap on his watch and disappear from her sight.

Can’t anybody let me be in peace today? he wondered to himself.

He shot a glance at the owner, who turned out to be a girl in her twenties with wavy black hair and sparkling amber eyes. Her red lips pulled upward into a smile.

“Are you in need of some new accessories?” she asked.

Shuichi turned his body more, lowering his gaze to the sparkling jewelry and then up to the girl, who continued to beam at him.

“These kinds of accessories aren’t my style.” he told her.

Besides, you can tell at first glance that they’re cheap ripoffs of the real thing, his mind supplied for him.

This only made her giggle.

“Oh, no worries! Then, you could get one for your girlfriend. I’m sure it’ll please her very much.” she said.

“I don’t swing that way.” Shuichi told her.

She blinked her eyes, shooting him a dumbfounded look as he continued.

“I have a preference for guys, so buying something for a so-called girlfriend would be pointless.” he told her.

“I see...well, maybe your boyfriend would like something from here!” she said.

Shuichi got ready to tell her that he didn’t have a boyfriend, but she was already reaching for a purple rope bracelet with a simple puzzle piece charm on it.

“Here, you could buy this. It’s simple, but quite cute.” she told him.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not interested.” he said.

She puffed her cheeks out.

“Come on! It doesn’t even cost that much. I’m sure you could give me a couple yen.” she said, growing more persistent with each word she spoke.

“Really, I’m fine! I don’t want to buy anything—“ he stopped, gold eyes landing on a checkered scarf.

It was just a simple checkered scarf and yet, Shuichi felt a tug in his heart. It was like the scarf was calling his name, begging for him to pick it up and buy it.

His hand started moving on its own before he could stop it. It inches further and further towards the checkered fabric, the tug at his heart growing stronger. His finger brushed along it as another hand appeared in his vision, snatching the scarf up and abruptly snapping him out of whatever trance he had fallen under.

“Oooh, this looks cute! This is totally my style. How much is it?”

Shuichi blinked, looking to his right and locking on a male wispy purple hair that stuck out in all directions. He was shorter than him, making him about five foot one, if he had to guess. The male wore a black and white sawtooth pattern coat with dark denim skinny jeans and black ankle boots.

Almost as if the male knew he was being watched, he turned away from the girl running the booth and locked eyes with Shuichi. The grim reaper felt the wind being knocked out of him the minute it happened. The male’s eyes were a deep shade of purple that sparkled like precious gems in the morning light.

Then, it happened.

Snippets from the dreams he’d been having came slamming into him like a truck, accompanied by a chirpy voice.

“Saihara-chan, let’s play a game!”

“Nishishi! It was just a lie. Or was I lying about that being a lie? The world may never know!”

“I...like you too, Saihara-chan.”

“Ew, I don’t think I can understand why you like black coffee so much.”

“Come oooooooon, Saihara-chan! You promised we’d go swimming!”

“Saihara-chan!”

“Saihara-chan...I’m sorry.”

“...I’ll always love you, Saihara-chan.”

Before Shuichi could process what was happening, a single tear trailed down his cheek. He could only stare at the male with a dumbfounded look on his face.

The male peered at Shuichi curiously, brows furrowed and lips pursed.

“Why are you watching me like that? I saw this first.” he waved the scarf around. “You hear me? I saw it first. First!” he shouted.

However, Shuichi didn’t respond. The male arched a brow as he continued to look Shuichi up and down.

“Wait a minute...are you crying?” he leaned in closer. “Oh shit, you are.” he said.

Minty breath tickled his lips and the minute Shuichi realized how close his face was, he immediately jerked back like he burned himself.

“H-Huh?” he stammered out.

“You were crying just now.” the male pointed out.

“What? I wasn’t—“ Shuichi reached up to touch his cheek and immediately felt the wet tear trail on it.

He dabbed at it in surprise. He couldn’t remember the last time he shed a tear, let alone if he actually did during the amount of time he’s been alive. Just what the heck was going on?

The male continued to eye him.

“Do you want it? The scarf, that is. I wanted to buy it because it looked neat, but if you want it…” he murmured.

“Uh...I…” Shuichi trailed off.

“Hm? Are you speechless? Is it because I’m so drop dead gorgeous that you can’t say anything?” the male teased.

“Wha…?!” Shuichi gawked at him in shock, cheeks flushing red.

“Nishishi! Aw, you’re adorable when you’re flustered! It makes me want to kiss you.” the male said.

The blush on Shuichi’s cheeks deepened, which only made him giggle more.

“But seriously, do you want it? Because if you do, I’m not gonna give it to you for free.” the male held his hand out to him. “Give me your number.” he said.

“My...number?” Shuichi questioned.

“Yeah? I’m going to need to contact you in regards to this scarf, you know.”

“I don’t have one.”

The male blinked twice.

“Wait. You’re telling me you don’t have a phone?” he asked.

“I don’t have one.” Shuichi replied.

“Why not?”

“I don’t need one, that’s why.”

“How could you not need one? We live in the twenty-first century! Of course you need a cell phone!”

“I just don’t see why I need to have one.”

“Because…!” the male heaved a deep sigh. “Okay, I can’t be doing this right now. I guess that means this scarf will be mine.” he said.

He moved to tie the scarf around his neck, but Shuichi spoke, effectively stopping him.

“W-Wait! Set the scarf down. Write your number down and place it there with the scarf. I’ll call you.” he proposed.

“Weeeeeeell…” he proceeded to twirl some hair around his finger. “We should at least exchange names if that’s how you wanna do it.” he said.

“Okay...well, my name’s Saihara. Saihara Shuichi.” Shuichi told him.

“Saihara-chan? I’ll make sure to remember that, then. I’m Ouma. Ouma Kokichi.” Kokichi introduced.

He reached his hand out for Shuichi to shake. The grim reaper could only stare down at the hand quizzically before redirecting his gaze to Kokichi’s. The purple-haired male watched him expectantly, waiting for Shuichi to shake it.

“If you don’t want to shake it, then that’s fine.” Kokichi turned back to the booth owner. “You said it was thirteen hundred yen, right? I’ll take it.” he said.

He began to fish through his pocket, mumbling to himself about where he put his wallet. Shuichi sighed, reaching into his trench coat and pulling out his wallet. Flipping it open, he pulled out a few bills and handed it to the booth owner.

“Here, I’ll pay for it.” he said.

Kokichi gaped at him in surprise.

“Wait! Saihara-chan, I can pay for it—“

“I already gave her the money. Just let it be.”

The purple-haired male pouted as the girl giggled.

“Aw, how sweet! By the way…” she leaned in closer to Shuichi, which startled him a little. “This scarf costs way more than thirteen hundred yen. The cost for it is...quite hefty, if I do say so myself.” she whispered lowly.

“How much does it cost, then?” Shuichi asked.

“Hm...maybe someone’s memories?” she hummed out in response.

Shuichi eyed her warily, but she only smiled at him brightly as she accepted the money from him. He sighed, withdrawing from her as Kokichi spoke.

“Well, since you bought it, I guess I should let you have it for now.” he handed the scarf to Shuichi along with a slip of paper. “And here’s my number.” he said.

Shuichi took the scarf and paper from Kokichi, examining them. As he did, Kokichi continued to eye him. Upon feeling the set of eyes on him, he glanced back at Kokichi.

“Yes?” he said.

“You know...the more I look at you, the more I feel like I’ve seen you before.” Kokichi commented.

Shuichi’s eyes widened in surprise as Kokichi leaned in towards him, purple eyes scanning him.

“I wonder...were we lovers in a past life or something?” he mused aloud.

“Were we...what?” he questioned, wondering if he heard him correctly.

“Lovers. Maybe we were lovers in a past life.”

“Were we?”

Kokichi shrugged.

“The world may never know.” the sound of a phone ringing reached their ears. “Ah, that’s mine. I’m going to need to go now.” Kokichi said.

He pulled away from Shuichi and began to walk past him.

“I’ll be waiting for your call, my beloved Saihara-chan!” he called out over his shoulder.

“My beloved…?!” Shuichi squeaked as he turned, watching Kokichi wave his hand as he headed down the steps and disappeared from his sight.

Shuichi sighed deeply.

“That was...interesting.” he murmured.

He looked down at the scarf, running a thumb along the fabric before focusing on the piece of paper that had Kokichi’s number on it along with his name and a quick doodle of himself. As he continued to stare at the two items, Kokichi’s question rang in his mind.

“I wonder...were we lovers in a past life or something?”

The bits and pieces from his dreams resurfaced as he thought back on them. This time, the mystery male had wispy purple hair, purple eyes, and a mischievous smile. He gripped the scarf tighter.

He couldn’t help but wonder if these dreams he was having were merely dreams or if they were something. Maybe they were pieces of his memory from his past life that he was told that he shouldn’t remember at all costs.

But if it were indeed those memories that stayed buried within him, locked in Pandora’s box...then Kokichi might be onto something.

#saiouweek #danganronpa v3 #saiouma #shuichi saihara #kokichi ouma #day 7 #shuichi’s birthday or free day #free day it is!#had this idea circling about in my head forever so here it is #goblin au anyone???#shuichi is the grim reaper #and kokichi is sunny #reincarnation (somewhat)#tw: ndrv3 spoilers #tw: angst #it’s...actually not that shippy i’m sorry ;^;#kawaiikichi

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rorynorth · 3 years

Text

Supervillains weren't supposed to pay for coffee.

In fact, Julian Godfrey had come into this very cafe last week—in full costume—to demand a free latte on his way home from holding some CEO hostage. He'd already forgotten the man's name, but the ransom money was going to fund some lavish apartment upgrades.

But today, Julian wasn't here for a drink. He was here to sit in the corner of the cafe and send emails and read and, of course, finalize his plan to take an entire city block hostage. Rather than his villainous costume, he wore the clothes he wore to his day job at the library: black pants, a dark purple button-up, and a black blazer.

He did still want his coffee, though.

Julian ran through tonight's plan as he stood in line. He'd been preparing for this for months, and it had taken a lot of training to be sure he'd be able to pull it off. This would be the biggest demonstration of his power yet.

Most importantly, he'd be doing this alone. He had to. If he succeeded, the city would see him as a real threat. He was already feared, but maybe they'd finally regard him with the same awe as they did Blazar.

Julian planned to relinquish his control of the apartment block in exchange for a considerable sum of cash—not particularly original, but money wasn't his real goal anyway. He was going to lure in the city's biggest hero and completely destroy him. Or at least, kick his ass hard enough to keep him out of commission for a few months.

One of the cashiers waved Julian over. "Next, please!"

"Macchiato. Sixteen ounce," he told her.

"Great, that'll be five ninety-five."

Julian opened his wallet and pulled out a single five dollar bill. Damn, he'd thought he had more cash. "Hold on, let me find my card—"

"You're a dollar short?" came a voice from his right.

Julian glanced up. The girl who'd spoken pulled a dollar from her own wallet and held it out to him. He briefly considered turning it down. He had plenty of money to burn, after all.

But why say no to convenience?

"Thank you," Julian said, quickly looking the girl over as he accepted the dollar. She was nearly a foot shorter than him, probably around five foot three. Her skin was light brown, her eyes were a few shades darker, she wore a white flannel over an oversized teal New Atlas University tee, and—

"Your hair's blue," he noted, lifting an eyebrow. Her curly hair, pulled back into a ponytail, was dark brown for a few inches at the roots. The rest of it was a faded turquoise.

She laughed. "Yeah, I get that a lot. And it's no trouble, really."

While Julian waited for the cashier to finish up his transaction, he watched the girl walk away out of the corner of his eye.

"Here's your change, your drink will be ready in a minute." The cashier dropped a nickel into his hand. "Next!"

Julian stood at the edge of the cafe, debating approaching the girl. It was surprising that someone would offer a stranger a dollar without being threatened, wasn't it? Yes, sure, some people were just nice, but he'd already been reaching for his credit card.

The girl grabbed her drink and left before Julian could make up his mind. An employee called his name a moment later. He grabbed his coffee and found a seat in a corner of the cafe.

You don't take a free drink from a restaurant because you can't afford it, Blazar had told him once. If you're after money, you rob a bank. You take the drink to remind people you could be anywhere, at any time. You take the drink to remind people that they're never really safe.

Julian sipped his coffee. The block of apartments he'd be attacking in a few hours was a short walk from here. He'd pass it on his way to the Complex. The area was familiar. A few times a week, for the past month, he'd spent hours generating stone beneath the streets. Still, it would be nice to take one last look at the layout. He had a lot of asphalt to break through.

He closed his free hand into a fist and formed a single stone. When he opened his hand, the small rock rested on his palm.

That was all he'd been able to do as a child. It took a lot of energy to form matter, after all. But even before he'd fully developed his geogenesis powers, he was at least able to manipulate his creations. Thank god for that. Blazar probably wouldn't have kept him around if all he could do was make pebbles.

Julian pulled out his phone. He responded to a few scheduling emails from other library employees. Checked the time. Skimmed the news. Checked the time again.

It was nearly five-thirty when he finished his coffee. As he rose to his feet, he ran a hand through his dark hair. He was really looking forward to tonight. He hadn't been this excited about a fight in a long time. During the walk to the Complex, he assessed the sidewalk beneath him, searching for the largest cracks, the weak spots he could pull the earth up through.

Storm Warning would have no choice but to show up, really. This was going to be the biggest threat the city had ever seen. Except, perhaps, for a few of Blazar's stunts. It was hard to compete with some of the fires he'd started.

Another five minutes of walking brought Julian to the alley hiding the Complex's entrance. The elevator he took could only be accessed with a key, and the only floor it went to was the top.

A text from Blazar came in halfway up the building. When are you returning to the COVE?

About to walk in, Julian replied. He'd never dare say it to Blazar's face, but he hated calling it the COVE. Not the word itself, but the overly complicated acronym Blazar had come up with. Complex of Villainous Entities. Why make it more complicated than it had to be?

The name didn't matter much, anyway. There were only four of them left now.

The elevator door opened, revealing the open living area. At the opposite end of the space were the doors to the balcony, and a hallway leading to the living quarters. To the left was the kitchen, and to the right were the couches and massive monitor that Damselfly was currently using to watch reality TV.

"Hey, Julian." Damselfly looked up from where she was draped across the couch. Her vibrant blue insect-like wings fluttered as she twisted herself around to watch him enter, glittering in the light from the kitchen. "How are your books?"

She didn't really care. The others took any opportunity they had to make a jab at Julian's job. "Library's doing great," he told her. "Is Blazar in?"

"Nope."

"What about Lord Saturn?"

"Haven't seen her, either." Damselfly's head tipped to the side. Her short, dark waves of jet black hair shifted. "What are you up to?"

"I'm getting into a fight tonight," Julian told her.

"Ooh, Storm Warning?"

"Hopefully." Storm Warning was easily the strongest hero in the city. And the most charismatic. And he was the most fun to fight.

The other heroes who popped up enough to be a household name hardly did anything beyond fighting common criminals in alleys. The minor villains they used to fight had been driven out of the city years ago, or killed. Julian ran into the smaller heroes from time to time, as did Damselfly and Lord Saturn. But Storm Warning was the only one who ever dared to fight Blazar.

"Well, if you're looking for the mask that only covers the top half of your face, it's in the sink," Damselfly said.

"Why is it in the sink?" Julian asked. He frowned. "And how did you know I was looking for that one?"

Damselfly shrugged. "You use the full mask for missions. Half mask is for big public shows. Like fighting Storm Warning." She lifted an eyebrow. "And we were out of dishes and I needed something to put my nachos on."

Julian sighed as he picked his mask out of the sink. "Did the other two say anything about when they'd be back?"

"Nope." Damselfly folded her arms over the top of the couch and rested her chin on them. "Why, you looking for backup tonight?"

"I don't need backup."

"All right, well, I'm here if you change your mind." Damselfly thought for a moment. Her wings twitched. "On second thought, there's a new episode of Haunted Weddings tonight, so I probably won't come out."

Julian rinsed off his mask and wiped it dry with a towel. "Glad I can count on you." He'd been the youngest villain at the Complex, until Damselfly showed up. While Blazar had succeeded at hammering responsibility into Julian, Damselfly hadn't been so keen on establishing herself. She preferred to tag along on whatever plans the others came up with.

"I don't get why this girl is having her wedding at her university," Damselfly said, her attention back on the TV. She tossed a piece of popcorn into her mouth and continued speaking as she chewed. "I mean, I get there was a murder, but those buildings are hideous."

Julian considered asking what exactly the point of the show was, but he didn't have time to listen to another one of Damselfly's spiels.

"You gonna go to college, Julian?" she asked.

He'd considered it, but Blazar had turned him off the idea. You don't need it. You're powerful. You can take whatever you want. He'd tried to dissuade Julian from getting a job, too, but he and Saturn had day jobs. And Julian wanted something to occupy his time, even if he didn't need the money.

"I don't know," Julian finally answered. "I'm already twenty-four."

"That's young!"

Bold words, coming from a sixteen-year-old. "I guess," Julian replied. His mind jumped to the New Atlas University shirt that girl at the cafe had been wearing. He'd spent a fair amount of time looking at their website. Was she a student? Or did she just know someone at the school?

Julian shook off the thought. The sun was setting. It was time to get ready.

The pants and shirt of his super suit were a deep purple. And, like any decent suit, the material was sturdy enough to protect him from minor blows. Then there were the white gloves, white boots, and the collared gold cape that fastened at the neck. Julian liked it, despite Blazar's occasional jab—Still haven't gotten rid of the cape yet?—but he wasn't stupid. The fastener was easy to undo, so he could pull it off before any fight really got going.

The final piece was the metal mask, also gold in color, with slits for his green eyes to peer through. It was the most iconic part, too, the thing people thought of when they heard his name. There were five points at the top, the one in the middle being the tallest, that gave it the appearance of a crown.

Like Damselfly had mentioned, he had two: one that covered his entire face, and the one he'd be wearing tonight that left the bottom of his face exposed. It made conversation easier. And threatening people. A small device embedded in the bottom edge of the mask—designed by Lord Saturn—altered the sound waves of his voice as he spoke, deepening it just enough that only people who knew him well would be able to recognize it.

Julian left his room and returned to the living room.

"I'll watch you on the news!" Damselfly called as he headed for the door. "Well, when my show's on commercial, anyway."

Julian paused. "Don't we have every streaming service?"

"I don't think you know how TV works." Damselfly waved her tablet. "Besides, if I don't watch it live, I can't follow what's happening on social media."

"Blazar might want to use the monitor to watch me."

"I don't think he's coming by tonight."

"We'll see." Julian could worry about Blazar later. It was time to focus.

Right now, he was Citadel.

This is the first chapter of Villain Complex, which is available to read in full on my wattpad auroraanorth. It's also linked in my pinned post!

#meant to post this back when i finished posting the book lol but it's literally just the first chapter #writeblr #writing community #supervillain #superhero #writers of tumblr #villain complex

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