#i can count the number of guy friends i have with less than one hand

[lokislytherin]

daniel & friends

i just wanna explore the different friendship dynamics daniel has with lookism characters in terms of friendship vibes and / or personal experience? i’m kind of projecting all over them so these are not necessarily things they’d do in canon but things i can envision them doing as normal teenagers

daniel is the common theme so i kinda refer to him as “you” so ig you could also envision this as lookism character & reader sans daniel

daniel & jay ;

if you had to pick a friend to date, it would be them

you’re a little bit in love with each other because that’s real friendship 

your friends probably call you a married couple and you always deny it but get flustered every time they’re physically affectionate with you

sitting together on the morning school bus in comfortable silence, watching everyone around you doze off and feeling comfortable enough with them to be on the verge of dozing off yourself

being gently bonked because you’re a little slow on the uptake, but not being mad about it because you're friends and they don’t really mean it

daniel & zack ;

pain in the ass friends (affectionate), chaos bros

slapping them in the back a little too hard and laughing when they stumble, both laughing when they smack you back just as hard

sending each other dumb memes in the middle of the night and trying hard not to laugh because you don’t want to wake the neighbors

chasing them because they slapped your ass with 0 context in the hallway

head empty you two share a brain cell but who has the brain cell right now? it might not be either one of you actually uh oh

daniel & vasco ;

that special friend dynamic of younger sibling and older sibling

cooing over puppies in the pet shop together and crying internally when the shopkeeper asks you if you’ll buy any pets but you don’t have the money/permission/space/time for one even if they’re so cute

social media feed merging because both of you love cute animals and soon you’re sending each other the same posts at the same time, completely unplanned

sharing a bag of chips and being absolutely entranced by a horror movie, screaming and dropping everything when both of you get jumpscared by the film but also each other screaming

being given obscure advice which sounds really wise when you first hear it, but when you think about it a little longer you have no idea what it means actually. and they will not elaborate bc they don’t know what they’re talking about either

daniel & zoe ;

the best opposite-sex friend you’ll probably ever have

going window shopping together and picking out the best and worst fit combinations for each other to try on, getting kicked out of the fitting rooms for laughing so hard you trip over and break the curtains

“get in loser we’re going shopping” “hey who are you calling a loser!”

the first person to get into a relationship that actually works out well has to buy the other person boba tea, it’s an ongoing bet, it doesn’t actually matter who it is because you’ll be crying happy tears either way

they call you “girl” every time they get excited about things but it’s a gender neutral term to them now it’s like the way you call them “bro” when you get hyped up

they would totally set you up with people they think would be good for you 

feel free to give me requests or add things too! asks or comments or reblogs work! if you want to challenge me or make me cry feel free to request gundaniel friendship (if they count as friends, that is)

[basicinstnct]

can’t quit you / miguel o’hara

word count: 1642

tags: oral sex, size kink, friends with benefits, strength kink, slight angst, commitment issues

ao3 link: here

summary: you know what an addiction is, and the definition doesn't seem too far off.

a/n: i’d like to add a better graphic but the movie just came out. one day!

small prequel: here

“This is practically breaking and entering,” you tease. You’re less than new to returning from work to a huge form sprawled across your couch. Miguel has no issue making himself at home, at least not in your apartment. You figure it’s a sign that you don’t scream at the sight of him, even if you’re stuck on how weird it is, coming home to a shadow at night and not being bothered. It’s part of his strange charm (and you secretly revel in the fact that he’s only this comfortable with you).

“Wouldn’t have to break in if you’d let me have a key,” he’s entirely serious.

“You know why that can’t happen,” you say, like you’ve had to say a dozen times. Any number of excuses come to mind. You’re emotionally intelligent enough to know that he’s emotionally unavailable, no matter what he says, or thinks.

“I can be your man,” he says with his typical resilience, “more, if you’ll let me.”

You don’t even know what more means, if he’s already in your apartment like it’s his, if he’s already been inside you like you’re his. What will one more step do? You know what an addiction is, and the definition doesn't seem too far off.

“Miguel…” He’s run out of reasons to refuse you. You’ve run out of reasons to refuse him. Nice reasons, at least. But knowing what’s good for you doesn’t mean that’s what you want.

He rises from the couch, and it is a rise. He normally towers over every piece of furniture in your place, over you. It doesn’t take much trying. You’ve wondered if it’s hard for him to always be the biggest thing in the room, but a guy like him probably likes that, likes being unavoidable.

Miguel only knows how to kiss one way, sloppy. When his lips meet yours it’s like all the desperate parts of him come out of hiding. His tongue grazes all parts of your mouth like there’s something sweet inside, and you whimper when you realize he’s swapping spit with you. Even his saliva runs a bit hotter. It makes you pull back, panting in lieu of straight up whining.

“Baby,” he says with your face in his hands, like he knows it’ll make you weak. You try to avoid his gaze but he catches your jaw, squeezed a little the way he knows you like. “No,” he sighs, long and heavy. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna say no now.”

“I’m not saying no…” 

Miguel sinks to his knees and looks up at you like you take the wind out of his sails. Being able to look down at Miguel is a hard pill to swallow. “Gonna let me taste that sweet pussy again? Or are you gonna make me beg like you did last time?”

If you remember well, denying him didn’t end well for you the last time. You have flashes of being put in a press, legs to your ears with Miguel growling, talking about the feeling of your wet cunt on his dick, about how good you felt milking him, about how if he didn’t know any better he’d think you want his cum. You didn’t even know he could talk like that, talk about anything other than preserving and protecting. It’s like a switch is flipped when he’s with you, even if it’s been weeks or months between seeing him.

You give an inch and he takes a mile. Lifts your thigh over his shoulder so he can get at what’s between your legs. His hands travel up your thighs, gripping at parts of your flesh just to hear the sighs you make. When he goes under your skirt you expect to feel something, his fingers or tongue, but instead it’s just him breathing against you. Smelling you.

“You’re disgusting,” you whine, flushed anyway.

It doesn’t stop him, probably encouraging him instead seeing as he nestles his face in deeper, grabbing your hips so you can’t pull away. Your squirming only pushes him further into you. You can feel his nose bump your clit, and his tongue pushes fabric against your pussy.

“Miguel, come on.” You feel so ridiculous, even though he can’t see you.

“I want you to beg me,” you hear him say, “I want you to beg me like you made me beg the last time. Bet you feel just as needy as I did. I can hear it in your voice. so it shouldn’t be that hard.” He starts to palm you just to prove a point, dragging thick fingers up and down your slit. It doesn’t take long for you to start soaking through the fabric. 

“Please,” you murmur, “pleasepleaseplease.”

“Please what?”

“Please, Miguel, touch me. Touch my pussy.”

“All you have to do is ask, baby.”

You feel him drag your underwear down your legs, toss it somewhere in the room. Then he’s free, free to pull apart your folds so he can see you clench and drip around nothing. He leaves you just like that, before you feel the heat of his tongue, lips following soon after. And it’s not just touching, it’s like he’s making out with it. You can’t help the throb that goes through you, and you’re sure he can taste it in his mouth. 

You shiver at the heat of him, aggressive and persistent, not unlike a raging fire. Your body is torn between reactions, goosebumps on your flesh and sweat on your brow.

“It’s ok, baby,” he’s saying, sounding like he’s got a mouthful of you. “I won’t look at the faces you make. I know how embarrassed you get.”

Miguel slides two fingers in deep, and then starts curling. It doesn’t make much of him for you to feel split open. He’s big all over, everywhere where it counts.

“Cute,” he mutters, when you buck against his hand, “you still think you’re strong enough to get away from me.” His words have the intended effect. You feel powerless, so you give in. You’re barely standing on your own feet, his hand and shoulder and face giving you all the support you need.

“I know,” you moan, “I know, I can’t.” You feel yourself gone boneless in his grasp. He has you.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen: I’m gonna keep you on my fingers until you soak my hand, and then I’m gonna make us both come, okay.”

“Yes, yes, okay,” you agree without listening, “Miguel, please make me come.” 

He takes away his fingers, but not before sliding them against your pussy again, like he’s trying to collect all that drips out of you. When he moans shamelessly into you, and you start to hear a slick sound, you realize that can only mean one thing.

“Are you…” You can’t say the words.

You can hear him fist his cock, spread what he took from you all over his dick, using it as lube. The sound of wet skin so loud you can almost see him. Shlick. Shlick. Shlick. You know how he gets when he’s pent up, how he leaks like a faucet if he hasn’t come recently. You’ve felt him throb in your hand, seen the dark look he gets when your hand can’t even wrap around him. Miguel moans like he knows what you’re thinking, and goes at you harder. You barely feel there, like he’s just using the taste of you to get off.

“You’re wet,” he slurs, like he’s confirming, “‘s gonna make me come.” 

“Me too,” you sigh, high on the feeling of him. “I’m gonna come too.” But you can’t yet, not until you see. Your hands are clumsy and shaking as you fumble with the buttons of your skirt. You pop them out one by one until it all falls away and you can finally see Miguel.

He looks as debauched as expected. His jaw and mouth shine with what you’ve done to him, and when his eyes flicker open he looks like he’s under a spell.

“What’s wrong?” His voice is a lilting tease, “I thought you wanted me to make you come.” He looks you straight in the eyes as he leans back in, licks your clit until you whine. You’re right back on the verge of orgasm. 

You know he’s close too by the way he shivers. It’s his tell, you’d realized the first time he fucks you. Miguel shakes like the pleasure is too much, and when it finally is you hear it rather than see it. Thick streams of his cum wasted on the floor beneath you. The sound of him so eleated, knowing it’s the taste of you that has him like this, has you right where he wants you. 

You grab onto him as you come, feel his strong shoulders tense with the effort to hold you tight. He doesn’t let up with his mouth, licking up all of you until you shake from the stimulation.

It’s not surprising that you teeter when Miguel lets go of your legs, still weak from your orgasm. “Oh, baby,” he says, “if you needed to lay down you should have said so.”

You end up intertwined on the floor, his hand combing through your hair. You can hear him breathe deeply, and the peace of it threatens to send you into a deep sleep. It’s laughable to have him fawn over you like this, when in the morning you’ll choose to go back to separate lives, so much so that you can’t help but joke about it. “You treat all your girls like this?”

“There are no girls.”

“Sure,” you giggle, “so when I don’t see you for a month…”

You don’t believe him for a minute until you look at him, and his face is so honest, so genuine, that in the back of your mind you wonder if there could be a future for the two of you after all.

[killerlookz]

Olive Green Couch | Spencer Reid

description: when your best friend drags you to a party to meet a boy she's been fawning over, you find yourself completely bored and unimpressed- good thing you've stumbled upon a strikingly handsome (yet awkward) young graduate student named Spencer who seems equally as unhappy to be there to share your misery with.

pairing: grad school! spencer reid x f! reader

content: uhh mostly fluff, drinking, reader is described as wearing a mini skirt and wearing high heels.

word count: 4,242

If I have to hear one more Weezer song I'm going to be sick. You think as the slow drums of Undone pour out over an all too expensive speaker system for a frat house.

The MIT frats were nothing like you experienced before, they were- for lack of a better term- a complete and utter sausage party. You can't remember the last time you'd seen this many men in a single room. If you weren't so bored maybe you would appreciate this as a reprieve from the usual maintaining "ratio" of the state school frat parties you'd been to. But even now you'd prefer that if it meant you wouldn't have to deal with another sloppily drunk man explaining the plot of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy to you. Rich, pretentious, too smart for his own good MIT frat guy or dude-bro, alpha male, business major state school frat guy- it didn't matter; they were the same side of the same misogynistic coin.

You look down at the shot-glass sized solo cup in your hand, staring at the clear liquid inside. Maybe just one more shot and you'd finally start to enjoy the state you were in. You hoped maybe six shots would be the perfect number of drunk to enjoy yourself. You screw your eyes shut and throw back your head as you lift the cup to your mouth. The cheap vodka burns the second it touches your tongue, and you wince as you feel it travel down your throat and to your stomach. Your body shivers involuntarily as the warmth in your belly grows.

You face forward again, looking across the living room for your best friend- the one who dragged you here in the first place. You had suggested bar hopping or trying to get into a club, you didn't buy her a fake ID for no reason. But she insisted on coming here instead. Here- to this sweaty house filled with... well... dorks. She came here looking for some guy- Michael... Matthew... Miles.... shit, you couldn't remember. It didn't matter, you were here now, and she had ditched you to fend for yourself.

You take a step forward and all the alcohol you had drank prior seems to hit you a once, "Woah" You can't help but say out-loud as you catch your balance and wait for the room to stop spinning.

You take a few more wobbly steps forward before acclimating to your new, tipsy state. You make your way through the dimly lit house, trying to find your friend amongst the crowd and rowdy conversations. Observing the bodies that populated the house you suddenly felt insecure, and insanely overdressed- why was everyone wearing jeans and a t-shirt? Maybe a mini skirt was the wrong choice for tonight.

You make your way to a back room of the house, occupied by maybe only 10 people by your inebriated brain's estimate. There's an ugly looking olive green couch in the middle of the room- it' had obviously been through a lot but and you hated to imagine what had happened on that couch over the years, but right now it looked like the most comfortable thing in the world. You walk over and plop yourself over onto the couch, the cushions having a lot less give than you expected.

The beginning riff of Someday by The Strokes plays just outside of the room, and you groan- turning to the guy who you had just realized was sitting next to you.

"Do you know who's Dj-ing this fucking thing- can you tell them to play some Britney or something?" The words fall off your tongue, sloppily.

The boy sitting next to you turns to look at you, a confused look drawn upon his face, "Huh- me?"

Shit. He's kind of cute- In a dorky sort of way. His brown hair is perfectly unkempt, and small curls form at the back of his neck. His jawline is sharp, and his hollow cheeks accentuate his prominent cheek bones. His eyes are dark, and he looks a like he hasn't slept in years- you figured with the workload MIT students probably have- it would make sense if he actually hadn't slept since getting there. Truth be told, all things combined he looked a little sickly- he was obviously lanky maybe scrawny was a better word- his button up shirt seemed a little ill-fitted for his body, and his tie poorly tied. Still- you couldn't help but notice he was hot. The first hot guy you'd seen all night.

"Yes, you, pretty boy." You smirk.

His face reads as even more confused upon your clarification.

"Oh um," He looks down at the half-drunken beer that sits between his legs, shakes his head before looking back up at you, "I-uh I don't know the DJ, and I- um, also don't know who Britney is." He responds, a small nervous tremble in his voice.

"Spears?" You let out a small laugh, "You know like- Hit Me Baby One More Time." You half sing.

"Oh-" He looks off to the side, "No" he faces you again.

"Go figure," You scoff, still, keeping a smile on your face. "Say- are you in this frat?"

He shakes his head, "Oh- no, I'm a grad student."

"A grad student?" You respond, your eyes widen in shock no shot the man you were looking at right now was any older than you. "How old are you?"

"21" He responds, almost nonchalantly- like it wasn't some insane feat. "Well," He clarifies, "I'm actually in my third graduate program, I already have a PhD in mathematics and chemistry, from Cal Tech. I'm working on my engineering one now."

"Jesus," You smile, "So what, you're like some sort of genius, huh?"

"Well, I don't believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified- but I do have an IQ of 187, and an eidetic memory, and can read twenty thousand words per-minute."

You stare at him in awe for a moment, "So, a you are a genius?"

He gives you a small smile in response, "Yeah- I guess." He nods.

You're suddenly intrigued, only twenty-one years old and already a doctor twice over.

"So what brings you here Doctor...uh..."

"Reid," He nods and presses his lips into a line. "Oh! But, don't call me doctor you can call me Spencer."

"Well then, what brings you here, Spencer?" You correct yourself with a smile.

"My friend- uh he wanted me to come with him, he's meeting some girl here and he didn't want to go alone. I kind of got dragged along."

"Well," You grin, "It must be fate that we're here together on this ugly green couch, because if you could believe it- I'm here for the exact same reason except my friend- she's uh, meeting a guy here."

Spencer takes a small sip of the beer he had been holding, wincing as the liquid touched his lips. You figured he probably wasn't much of a drinker, he probably had things much more important on his plate than getting drunk and partying.

"Not much of a partier?" You ask to confirm your suspicions.

"Mhh," Spencer hums, mouth still full of beer, he shuts his eyes tight as he swallows thickly. "No." He shakes his head violently. "What gave it away?"

"Oh!" You bite your lip... "Nothing!" You say, innocently, voice steeped in sarcasm.

"It's okay," He laughs, "I know I look like a dork."

His laugh is infectious, and you can't help but smile in response. And Damn- he's really cute.

"Oh! Don't say that," You swat your hand at him, "I'm sure you get tons of ladies."

Spencer tilts his head to one side, in obvious disbelief of what you just said,

"I don't really appreciate the sarcasm," He says, his eyes narrowing at you.

"Sarcasm?" You pout, "No- I mean it Spencer, what you're like a genius. And I mean- you're not bad to look at," You bite your lip, "Not at all."

Spencer shook his head, "I was a child prodigy in a Las Vegas public school, and until now, I've always been way younger than everyone in college- my experience with girls is practically in the negatives."

"Oooh!" You smirk, "Vegas," You raise an eyebrow.

"Mhm," He takes another sip of his beer, his face more relaxed this time.

"You think I'd make a good showgirl?" You wink

"Oh- um," Spencer is suddenly blinking rapidly as his head scans you up and down. You can't help but feel a little bad at the way you have him flustered,

"I'm kidding! You don't have to answer that." You reassure. "Negative experience with girls, hm?"

"Yeah- I-uh, I haven't even had my first kiss yet." He says, looking down at his lap, refusing to make eye contact with you.

"No?" You say, still shocked, even given his prior explanations of his experiences with women, "Well..." You start, pausing for a moment, "If you ever want that to change let me know." Maybe that last part was meant to be a joke, but truth is you kind of really hoped he said yes, right there, right now.

"What?" He looks back up at you, eyebrows furrowed, "No- I don't need a pity kiss. I don't even know who you are."

"It is not a pity kiss, and I'm y/n, I go to UMASS, the Boston campus- like 15 minutes away. I'm 20, and uhhh... Well, the rest you can find out later." You wink, "Now you know me!" You smile, perking up from your spot on the couch.

"Well- uh. Nice to meet you y/n" He gives you an awkward tight lipped smile. "Are you- um- enjoying your night."

"God no," You scoff. "Does that make two of us?"

Spencer nods, side moving his eyes to look around the room. It had gotten significantly more crowded since you'd came in here, you hadn't noticed, you'd been too focused on getting to know Spencer that you kind of forgot you were at a party to begin with. It didn't seem to matter now anyway, you were intrigued beyond belief and wanted to know more about Dr. Reid.

"So, why'd you leave Caltech? The weather is certainly a lot nicer than it is here," Your body physically recoils at the thought of having to go back outside to the brisk New England fall after the party was over.

Spencer shrugged, "You can only get so many degrees at one place before you need a change of scenery. I've been at CalTech since I was like- fourteen."

"Fourteen?" Your eyes widen, thinking about what you were like at fourteen. You certainly weren't CalTech material, that's for sure. "When did you graduate high school?"

"1993," He smiles and nods, "Twelve years old"

Spencer had a charming humility about him, he was the smartest person you'd ever met but he spoke in a way that made it feel like it was every day that someone could graduate high school at 12 and have two PhDs by 21.

"What do you plan on doing after college with that pretty head of yours?" You ask, your slightly intoxicated brain unable to stop you from instinctively reaching out and fluffing his hair. Spencer's eyes flick up towards your hand and he gives you an awkward smile paired with a small laugh.

"Well- I uhh... I've been in contact with this guy- well from the FBI, the BAU... Behavioral Analysis Unit. We came into contact after my second dissertation, he was shocked at how young I was, having done so much- he suggested I come to the academy when I was done with this one." Spencer explained, he talked in a way that made him seem unsure of himself, like he, himself didn't fully understand how it happened.

"God," You muse, "The fucking FBI? Could you get any cooler?"

"You know," Spencer remarks, "I think that's the first time anyone has ever used to word "cool" to describe me." The tone in his voice is light, it's clear he's happy about that fact, but you can't help but feel your heart break at the statement.

"Cool even sounds like a little bit of an understatement to me. But you know... I think I'm a little too intoxicated right now to think of a synonym, so cool it is!"

"Do you have any plans for after college?" Spencer asks, nervously running a finger around the rim of the glass in his lap.

"Nothing as cool as the FBI," You shrug, "Actually, nothing concrete, really. Has me feeling a little inadequate in a room full of geniuses."

"Oh trust me," Spencer scans his head around the room, "Not all of these guys are geniuses."

"Well- they're complete nerds at the very least." You giggle.

"I think I qualify as a nerd too." Spencer smiles back.

"Oh you definitely do," You say, scooting closer to him, taking the beer glass out of his hand, "But you haven't tried to talk down to me about some movie everyone's seen, or some album everyone's heard like I'm some dumb idiot bimbo yet." You huff, finishing what was left of the liquid in the glass with a single gulp. You slam the cup down on the coffee table in front of you, "And even if I was a dumb idiot bimbo- what makes them think I'd care about whatever they'd have to say about OK Computer. We've all listened to Karma Police, big deal!" You realize you're getting a little heated over this and cut yourself off, "Anyways," You smile, "What I mean is you don't seem like some self important loser."

"Oh," Spencer furrows his eyebrows, "Thank...you?"

"Do you want to get out of here?"

"Y-Yeah, Yeah we can go." Spencer nods.

You stand up from the couch, wobbling a little bit as your legs lift you up. The room, is blurry, for a moment all you can see are vague blobs of color instead of people. You shut your eyes tight, blinking them open to fix your blurry vision. You glance over toward Spencer, who's grabbing a tan suit jacket that had been draped over the back of the couch. He slinks the jacket on over his thin frame.

"You alright?" He asks, concern in his eyes. He must have been able to read the drunk all over your face.

"Y-Yeah I'm fine, lets go," You nod, reassuringly. You could handle your liquor, besides you hadn't drank that much tonight.

The two of you head for the door, wherever it is. Spencer was leading the way, and you hoped he had a better sense of direction than you did. The music is suddenly a lot louder as you exit the room you were in, and you suddenly feel a lot drunker. The sudden change in feeling causes you to stumble a little, bumping Spencer in the back. High heels and alcohol were never a good mix.

"Oh- hey," Spencer stops suddenly, turning around to smile at you, "Are you sure you're alright?"

You look around the room, at the hoard of people, the room thick with a combination of weed and cigarette smoke. You've never felt so lost in your life when did it get so crowded in here? The obnoxious yelling of frat guys mixed with the music turned to a volume you were sure would get the cops to show up is absolutely ear-splitting.

"Can you hold my hand?" You ask Spencer, needing his guidance more than you realized.

"Uh, yeah, yeah." He nods. You reach your hand out for Spencer to grab, and it takes him a few times to correctly slot his fingers between yours. You smile a little, watching him try to figure out the perfect hand-holding position. He couldn't be more pathetic if he tried- it was kind of adorable.

Spencer's hand is warm, a little sweaty against your palm. But his grip is tight and reassuring as the two of you walk the rest of the way out of the house.

As soon as the front door opens a brisk wind hits you, nipping at your exposed flesh. Goosebumps already dot up and down your skin, the only warmth you feel is Spencer's hand wrapped around yours, and you knew that warm sensation would end as soon as his hand got cold too.

With a little hesitance, you step outside to brave the cold. Your heels click as you carefully make your way down the concrete steps in front of the house. You stare down at your feat as you make each movement, fearing accidentally rolling your ankle or falling. You'd probably take end up Spencer down with you.

"Hmm," Spencer hums, noticing your trepidation, "Here," Spencer untwines his hand from yours and places an arm around your back, reaching to your other side, but barely touches your other arm, just holds firm enough for you not to fall.

You reach the bottom of the stairs, thankful for Spencer's help,

"You don't have to hold me so far away you know, you can pull me a little closer." You turn your head to look at him, "I mean it is kind of chilly out."

"Oh-uh," Spencer's arm pulls to hold you just a little bit closer, "Better?" His grip is still pretty weak around you, and you sigh.

"You know, Spence, I'm still pretty cold." You frown, staring down the suit jacket he was wearing.

"Do you want to go back inside? I didn't even have a full beer the entire time I was there- I can go get my car real quick and drive you home if you want. It's only a block or so away." Spencer responds, his voice quick, and nervous- it was obvious he was eager to solve the problem of you being so cold.

"No," You laugh, shaking your head, "I'm cold is kind of girl-code for, you should give me your jacket."

"Oh!" Spencer laughs, "Oh- I'm sorry, yeah- here, here have it." Spencer speaks earnestly as he slips the jacket off of his shoulders. He shivers as the loss of the fabric leaves him in only a thin button up and you can't help but feel a little bad for asking him to give it to you. But he hands you the jacket with a smile on his face, which lingers even after you put it on. It provides a marginal amount more of warmth than what you felt prior.

"Better?" Spencer asks.

"Mhm," You nod, "Thank you."

Spencer only gives you a tight lipped smile and a nod in response.

"So," Spencer starts as the two of you begin walking, his hand slipping into yours almost instinctually, it catches you a little off guard, and you feel your cheeks run hot at the gesture. "Where are you headed?"

"Oh- uh, back to Boston I guess," You squint your eyes, thinking, "I usually take the bus, the stop is up that way." You point up ahead in front of you.

"Let me go with you," Spencer says quickly, "I mean- not to your place, but let me ride the bus with you, I don't want you going by yourself."

"Why not? I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself." You retort, trying to hide the fact that secretly, butterflies are growing in your stomach at his eagerness to take care of you.

"I just want to make sure you get home okay." His hand grips yours tighter.

"Okay," A small smile draws at your lips, you don't want to fight him on it anymore, truth was you'd love nothing more than to spend a little bit more time with him, even if it was a short bus ride.

The streets of the city are utterly dead, not a sound to be heard except the whistling of the wind and collision of your high heels and the pavement. You wonder what time it even is, how long had you even spent at that stupid party?

The bus is just as empty as the rest of the city. When it arrives, nobody but you and Spencer are on, the two of you sitting patiently under the bright fluorescent lights for the bus to move. The lights are straining on your eyes, and the horrendously carpet-patterned seats might hurt your eyes even worse.

"What stop do you get off at?" Spencer asks, being the one sitting the closest to the button to let the driver know when it's your stop.

"University Drive."

The lights dim as the bus driver pulls away from the stop you'd been picked up at, and you're able to relax your eyes once more. You let your eyes relax until all of a sudden they're closed and then-

"Hey," You feel your head being jerked, "We're here."

"Hmm?" You grumble, slowly opening your eyes.

Your stomach drops, and you're absolutely mortified to see your head is rested on Spencer's shoulder. You whip your head off from where it laid and quickly stand up from the seat.

The bus ride was fifteen minutes, you couldn't believe you fell asleep. Much less fell asleep on some guy you barely knew. You're a mess of worry as you exit the bus, thinking about how awkward you probably made Spencer feel. You're so caught up in your thoughts you barely notice how cold it is as you step outside.

"Hey, look, I'm right over there." You say, pointing to the large dorm building behind you.

"I'll walk you to the door." He smiles, and your panic immediately slides away.

You walk with your head down, looking intently at the sidewalk under you as you head forward to your building, trying your best to keep in a straight line. You had to admit, you were pretty upset your time with Spencer would be ending in just a few short minutes from now. You tried to scheme up a plan to get Spencer to stay longer, but no ideas would stick to your brain. You sigh, crossing your arms across your chest as you approach the front door.

You whip around to look at Spencer who's trailing just a few inches behind you.

"Well," You sigh, "I guess this is it." You pull your mouth to one side in a small pout.

"Yeah- I-uh, I guess so," He shrugs, "I had a nice time tonight, thanks for, making my first party experience a lot better than i was expecting." Spencer's hands are shoved into his pocket, and he rocks back and forth while he talks, unsure of himself as his eyes dart all around you.

"Of course," You grin, letting your hands drop down at your sides, "Say," You cut yourself off, and shove your hands into the pocket of Spencer's coat, fishing, until you find what you were hoping for. You pull out a pen from one of the coat pockets, and grab Spencer's hand. "I want to see you again before you become some big tough FBI agent." You smile, scrawling the digits of your phone number on the back of his hand. "Call me sometime?" You hold his hand up for an extra moment, before letting it drop back down.

"Mmmhm, yeah," Spencer bobs his head up and down vigorously.

"Okay, good. Goodnight Spencer," You smile, giving him a small wave.

"Goodnight y/n" He smiles back, as the two of you turn around to go your separate ways.

You notice as you turn back around that you're still wearing Spencer's jacket, part of you has the urge to call out to him to give it back, the other part of you wants to keep it- if he wants to get it back, he'll have to come see you again.

"Wait! Y/n!" You hear Spencer from just behind you. You frown a little, thinking your plan to keep Spencer's jacket had been foiled and he was calling to get it back from you.

"Yeah?" You whip your head back around.

"Did you mean it when you said to let you know if I wanted to have my first kiss- and that you'd change that I've never um-"

"Uhh..huh," You responded, a little to eager as an uncontrollable smile began to tug at the ends of your lips, "Are you asking me to kiss you Spencer?"

"Maybe," His voice breaks, unable to look you directly in the eyes.

You raise one eyebrow, "Maybe?"

"Ahem. Uh- I mean- yes."

Before you know it, you're tugging at his tie, pulling him close to you. Your lips are on his, just a peck at first, Spencer is hesitant. He is unsure of what to do with any part of his body, his lips move carefully, his hands unsure of just where they should be, they rest on your hips- before they move right under your shoulders. You make the decision to tilt your head and deepen the kiss. Spencer's lips are soft with inexperience, he has absolutely no clue what he's doing, yet you can't get enough.

The two of you pull away slowly, neither one of you wanting to give up the kiss- but you eventually have to surrender to the night and to the cold. You place one final peck on Spencer's lips.

"Now you have to call me." You giggle, unable to hide your excitement.

"Yeah-yeah," Spencer nods, eyes wide, his lips are shiny and his cheeks a pretty shade of pink. "Absolutely."

"Goodnight Spencer." You say once more, before turning around to head inside.

A/N: whew! when I tell you I spent all day writing this i mean all day! that's okay though... im obsessed with grad school! reid. anyways..... thinking about making a (potentially smutty) part two to this ;-)

[ikarakie]

mike has a panic attack.

it's sudden and it's terrifying and eddie has no idea what to do. one minute they're all yelling and laughing and just playing d&d, and the next, mike is collapsing to the floor struggling to breathe. gasping out the same two names over and over again. the panic attacks eddie's had before were never, never this bad. for a fucking awful moment he thinks he's about to watch wheeler die.

lucas stays with him, crouched by his side and talking in gentle tones. murmuring words of assurance that, while good, don't seem to reach his friend. dustin had sprinted out of the room yelling into a walkie talkie as soon as mike went down, so eddie has no fucking idea what he's up to. not that he's able to focus on much other than the kid (because, god, he's so young, what the hell has happened to him?) trying and failing to just breathe.

he tries the shit that worked for him, trying to get him to breathe in time with his counts, but it's like mike's ears are full of cotton. there's not even a hint of recognition in his eyes as either him or lucas speak.

dustin returns exactly three minutes later, trailed by the last guy eddie would've ever expected to walk through the doors of hellfire club. steve harrington zeroes in on mike like a hawk, crosses the room quickly and crouches in front of him. lucas scoots away, visibly relieved to see steve, so eddie reluctantly does the same. mike's knees are to his chest and he's heaving sobs so powerful they wrack his entire body. for about thirty infuriating seconds, steve just watches.

"oh god- oh fuck- fuck- will, will-" mike is saying, through stilted breaths. "will, el- el- i can't- they're-"

"mike." steve's voice is like honey, low and soothing in a way lucas' can't be yet. mike snaps his gaze up, finally proving his ears work. "where are you right now?"

"hawkins lab-" mike chokes, and eddie just listens, dumbfounded. "hawkins- starcourt- fuck-"

"no," steve says gently. mike stares at him, slightly less glazed. "where are you?" he asks again, a little more pointed. a few seconds pass. mike's eyes dart around the room.

"hellfire." he whispers, barely audible. steve nods, asks if he can come closer, if he can touch mike. the kid nods frantically, and then his hands are being peeled from where they were curled protectively against his chest. they're placed against steve's instead, and they spend the next few minutes breathing in tandem. harrington demonstrating and mike doing his best to follow.

his breathing eventually evens out, thank god, and the heart-wrenching sobs simmer down into quiet tears. mike all but throws himself into the embrace steve offers, tucking his head under the guy's chin and seemingly making himself as small as possible.

"it's okay, you're okay." steve promises, speaking into mike's hair as he gently rocks them back and forth. "they're okay. they're just fine, both of them. you looked after them so well, bud." he keeps whispering reassurances and sweet, kind words into the little cocoon he's crafted. mike stays curled up there for a while, making a wet patch on steve's shoulder.

then finally sounding more like himself, grumbles, "just 'cos we're hugging doesn't mean i like you." after maybe four or five minutes have passed. steve just huffs a laugh, because despite his words, mike is still clutching steve's arms as he pulls back.

"of course not." steve agrees. mike smiles as his hair is carefully ruffled. turns and reaches for dustin and lucas, who waste no time in piling themselves onto their friend. steve doesn't go far though, keeping a hand in the hair at the nape of mike's neck.

it's only then that he finally makes eye contact with eddie, who's watched the whole thing go down with a sick curiosity. because... who was this guy? this was not king steve, or the asshole, cookie-cutter jock steve harrington that eddie knew of. eddie had thought dustin's nickname for him of 'number one babysitter' had been an exaggeration; that maybe he'd watched them a grand total of three times back when he and nancy wheeler dated, and dustin had developed some fixation on him.

but... no, here he was. having brought hard ass michael wheeler down from easily the worst panic attack eddie had ever seen with the ease of someone who's done it a million times. (and wasn't that a harrowing thought?)

"you mind cutting it a bit early tonight, man?" he asks, softly, and it takes eddie a second to register that he's speaking to him. "i know you've still got, like, 20 minutes, but-"

"no, no," eddie cuts him off, kind of desperate for wheeler to get home and rest. "shit, man. that was... yeah, of course, take him." steve smiles appreciatively (an annoyingly pretty expression eddie never imagined him capable of, let alone directing at him), and turns back to the kiddie hug pile.

"hey, boys? mike?" he calls, all gentle and warm. it makes eddie's heart ache; even more so when all three turn to steve with big, shiny eyes. mike's peek out from dustin's arms. "how about we head off now, and stop at that payphone on the corner of glenview on the way home? give the byers a call in california?"

mike nods, hinging on desperate. dustin and lucas give him one more good squeeze before agreeeing themselves. steve corrals them all up, bids a fucking goodnight to the present company, (plus an extra one for eddie specfically), and shuffles them out of the room. eddie, and the rest of hellfire, are left stunned in the wake of babysitter harrington.

(when mike tries to apologise the next day, eddie absolutely refuses to accept it- and, at lucas' timid request, writes the mind flayer he'd introduced out of the campaign entirely. the next session, it's like the thing never existed.)

[lacroixqueen]

i'm so chill but you make me jealous jealous deadpool x fem!reader, 18+

Summary: deadpool sees you on a date with another guy and loses his shit lol

Pairing: jealous deadpool x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings/Tags: jealousy, possessive, angst, brat, noncon, dubcon

You were trying to figure out the fastest way to get out of this dumpster fire of a date. This is what you get for putting yourself out there, by the fervent advice of both your mother and entire social circle. So you went ahead and downloaded a dating app out of sheer boredom but also a tiny glimmer of hope. After quite a number of left swipes and a small handful of rights, you somehow wound up across the dinner table with… er, you forgot his name already. 

But you knew he worked in finance. Or was it accounting? Anyways, he was currently explaining the intricacies of the stock market to you, and the appetizer hasn’t even come out yet. And you realized that you couldn’t care any less. 

“I.. have to go to the bathroom,” you said, standing up quickly and pushing in your chair. Your date almost didn’t seem to notice, giving you a half-hearted acknowledgement and then continuing to drabble on to himself about cryptocurrency. 

Without another word, you darted to the nearest exit of the restaurant, finding yourself on the freshly rained-on sidewalk. You always loved the smell of the concrete after it had just rained. 

Your heels made a satisfying click-clack sound as you briskly maneuvered your way down the street. You opened up your texts to see if you missed anything during the god-awful date, and lo and behold, was a message from none other than Wade.

“Love the dress,” it read. 

You glanced behind you, then side to side, and once you turned back around, there he was, leaning against the side of the cornerstore. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked, barely turning towards him before directing your attention back to your phone and continuing to walk past him. 

“Ohhhh, so it’s ice cold today,” he commented, following right behind you. “I love that flavor.”

“What do you want,” you said while texting a friend about how disastrously the date went. “I am just going home.”

“Well, I was just walking by when I caught a glimpse of you through the window of that Italian restaurant back there,” the assassin replied. “Speaking of which, what was on the menu? I mean that place looked upscale! Like they probably sprinkle gold dust on their pasta instead of parmesan.”

It was an Olive Garden.

“To be blunt, I honestly forgot,” you responded. “I didn’t even eat anything.”

“Well, why did you leave so early?” he pried, this obviously piquing his attention now.

“I-I felt sick,” you lied, your intonation increasing as quickly as your apprehension. “Can we just change the subject, please?”

“Oh ho ho,” Deadpool chuckled, as if he struck gold. “That bad? I mean, I didn’t get a great look at the guy, but from what I saw, he wasn’t terrible-looking. Also, he wore a fleece vest. I mean, that’s just the height of fashion, you really can’t get any better than that.”

“Are you having fun?” you said, rolling your eyes as he continued to mock your absolutely colossal defeat of an evening. 

“Oh, absolutely,” Deadpool laughed. “The other point of contention is why the hell you decided to pull out this absolute banger of a dress for your first date with Mr. Finance Bro there and not ours?”

“That was not a date,” you enunciated, pressing your finger into Wade’s chest. “That was a drunken one night stand that will never happen again and that you even promised to never bring up. It was stupid and nonsensical and I can’t believe it even happened in the first place.”

“Oh come on, Y/N, you’re going to break my heart,” he whined, clasping his hands together like a needy puppy. “I, for one, thought that night was very special. I mean, you even told me that you could see yourself fall-”

Before he could say another word, you grabbed him by the hand and led him into a dark alleyway so that innocent bystanders wouldn’t hear you scream.

“Stop! Bringing that up!” you exclaimed. 

Deadpool was shocked his casual mention of the event elicited such a strong emotion from you. “Okay, okay, jeez.. calm down.”

You sighed, letting him go and turning your back to him. 

But he didn’t let you. Not even for a second. Before you could even react, he grabbed you by the neck and slammed you into the wall. 

You gasped, your hands instinctively reaching up to clasp over his while his grip only tightened over your carotid. 

“Besides, you know that I only followed you here because I wanted to see more of you in this ridiculously skimpy dress..” his voice darkened as he continued to choke you like a helpless animal. “I mean, look at you. That thing practically clings onto you like skin! If you weren’t such a tightass I would have ripped it off of you by now..”

He unsheathed his pocket knife and ran it across your lacy scarlet choker, over the thin straps of your slip dress, and onto your chest. He traced the outline of your cleavage with the dull edge, and then slowly slid it down over your taut stomach. 

You were trying to gulp up air for just one breath, but his hold was unrelenting. 

“I mean a red mini dress, are you fucking kidding me?” he snarled, his blade gently brushing against the garter belt on your right thigh. “Wearing my favorite color? With some other guy? This has got to be orchestrated at this point, Y/N.”

“Wade.. please..” you begged, lips beginning to quiver. Regardless of how much he joked around with you, he scared you when he was angry. 

He finally released you, allowing you to cough and gasp for your first breath. 

“But you know of course I wouldn’t kill you, I mean who do you think I am, a psychopath?” his tone immediately brightened up the moment he saw how much you feared him. “I just like watching you not being able to breathe is all. It’s so cute.”

 After you finally caught your breath, you stared daggers down at the vigilante who stood before you. 

“Listen, Wade,” you said. “I understand you are not exactly pleased with the current state of affairs. But this isn’t entirely up to me. And I’ve told you this a million different times.’

The assassin let out a dramatic, almost cinematic sigh. “Yes, I know, Your mother wants you to date ‘someone sensible with a stable career and not a psycho killer’. Which is perfectly understandable! I get it. I mean, I would probably think the same thing if I lived in the suburbs and made tuna casserole in my spare time.”

“Wade..” you shook your head and rolled your eyes. “You know it’s not that simple.” You walked up to him and gently lifted up his mask to reveal only his lips. 

He didn’t hesitate to grab you by the waist and pull you so close that your body was pressed up against his. 

You stood up on your tiptoes in your heels, stabilizing yourself by holding onto his broad shoulders. You weren’t exactly sure what you were doing, but you knew something within you just wanted to kiss him. But you also didn’t know if this was the right idea. 

The plump part of your lip gently brushed against his. The smell of your watermelon lip gloss was driving him crazy. He started to breathe heavily, and if another second passed where you weren’t kissing him he would say fuck it and just do it himself. 

You felt his hot breath in your mouth, and you felt your arms twist around him like they knew exactly where to rest themselves. Like they have done this before. 

“I’m so stupid for this,” you sighed, as you felt his lips beginning to close over yours. 

He smiled smugly into the kiss, quite pleased with himself over the hard fought victory. Without another moment of hesitation, he grabbed the back of your thighs and lifted you up without much effort at all. He walked over to the wall, pressing your back softly against it. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist automatically, kissing him like you would die if you stopped. You felt his tongue wrap desperately around yours. He was aggressive, hungry even. He wanted you all to himself, not some fucker in a fleece vest or anyone else for that matter. 

You knew you would regret your decision in the morning. And that no matter how hard you tried to deny it, you would come running back to him. Every single time. 

[lovemybluebully]

A Small Lapse of Judgement

What do you get when you cross a drunk Wolverine? Tickled. You get tickled. 🤣

Okay, yeah sorry guys. This one is literally like twice as long as my last one, but Logan and Wade both needed to get wrecked good. lol I'm just having too much fun writing these guys. So get some snacks or something because you're going to be here for a minute.

More somewhat movie spoilers, and Wade saying inappropriate things to Logan's annoyance. lol Oh, and of course tons of cussing. And tickles. Lots of tickles.

"Deadpool and Wolverine"-verse

M/M Tickle Fic

Word Count: 4,372

At first Logan had declined Wade's invitation to live with him at his apartment. Having been on his own for so long Logan didn't want to accept the fact that anyone actually wanted him around, but after Wade's persistent prodding and convincing he finally accepted.

"Yes!! It'll be like a sexy slumber party!" Wade had whooped, but one steely-eyed look from Logan made him turn it down, "Ahem. Or, you know, just two guys hanging out together with no lewd activities of any kind...."

No doubt Wade pushed Logan's buttons and got on his nerves more than anyone he had ever met in his life, but after their ordeal together there was no denying the bond that had been created between the two of them. It was hard for him to admit it, but Wade was definitely someone Logan now considered as a friend.

Surprisingly he settled in quickly and had begun to make himself comfortable, allowing him to let his guard down and actually relax for once. It was only a one-bedroom apartment so even though he had to sleep out on the couch every night he was grateful to have a place to call home.

And Wade was thrilled to have him there. Unlike his other roommate, Blind Al, Logan was progressively becoming more tolerant of his off the wall antics so it was nice to have someone else there that he could really joke around with. And drink with, though Logan still tended to embark on some solo day drinking of his own.

Wade shuffled into the living room in his crocs one late evening with Dogpool cradled in his arm to find Logan slouched over on the couch in nothing but jeans and a tank top and a nearly empty bottle of whiskey in his hand. Further observation revealed there to be two more empty bottles laying around on the ground by his feet.

"Hey. Robert Downey Jr. Wanna take it easy on the booze?"

Logan lazily looked up at him, rolling his eyes when he saw Wade was allowing the dog to lick all over his face.

"I will once ya take it easy on always making out with that mutt."

Wade stared at him in defiance as he continued to kiss Dogpool's head while she licked all around his mouth, making Logan grimace in disgust before Wade set her down upon the ten-sizes-too-big dog bed he had bought for her.

"You know if you were jealous all you had to do was ask, baby girl. There's plenty of Wade Wilson to go around," he leaped onto the couch beside Logan and puckered his lips, making smooching sounds as he tried to pull the other man close while Logan cursed and struggled to hold him back.

"Hey hey! Fucking knock it off, asshole!" Despite his annoyance he chuckled a little with the alcohol lightening his mood and after a few more seconds Wade finally relented to sit himself back.

"You can fight it all you want, but I know you'll come around one day. There's no resisting my natural labido," Wade sat facing him as he gave a wink and a flirty grin, causing Logan to sigh with a shake of his head and take another sip from the bottle.

"See this is exactly why I still drink. I need something to help tolerate your obnoxious ass on a daily basis."

"Fine by me. It has its benefits. Number one being that you're so much less stabby when you're like this," Wade teased, wiggling a finger into his side as Logan squirmed and giggled before swatting at his hand with boozed up coordination.

"Why are ya always tickling me? I hate that shit," Logan was still smiling though as he rubbed at his irritated ribs.

"Because," Wade smiled and turned to look out at the audience before whispering quietly under his breath, "The people demand it."

He sat staring in silence for several seconds until Logan lifted a brow in confusion.

"The fuck you looking at?"

"Nothing," Wade turned back to him, "Well it's because I have to make you laugh somehow, grumpy pants. You're always so serious, and worst of all you never laugh at my jokes."

"Oh yeah? Have ya tried actually being funny?"  A big shit eating grin was plastered on Logan's face as he instinctively pulled his arms in close to his body, not expecting Wade to let that one slide.

"Ooh hoo hoo, you're going to pay for that one later. You know what, smart ass? Maybe I'll tickle you in front of Laura. I'm sure she'd love to help me double team you sometime. A little badger on badger action, if you will." 

It was Wade's turn to smirk as Logan just looked back at him with nervous eyes that he tried to hide behind the scowl now creasing over his face.

"You'd better fuckin' not."

"I don't know. It's sounding like a pretty good idea to me. Usually I have to pay to see that kind of thing but-"

Logan growled as his claws started to come out, but Wade just laughed and wagged a finger at him.

"Ah ah ah! Rule number one, no bloodshed in the house. So best keep those claws of yours in check, my little kitty cat."

"Just don't give me a reason then," Logan warned, retracting the claws before his eyes raised to focus on Wade's head, "By the way, how long are ya gonna keep wearing that stupid toupee? I already told you that you ain't foolin' anyone with that thing."

Wade looked positively insulted as he patted and smoothed down the hair on his head.

"Uhmm excuse me? As I've told you a thousand times, it's a hair system. It's so I can go out in public looking halfway decent. Not all of us were blessed with the perfect bone structure of a successful Broadway actor," turns his head briefly to look at the camera, "And besides, I think it looks quite distinguished."

"I've seen better looking roadkill than whatever that thing's made out of," Logan snorted and downed the rest of the bottle in his hand before dropping it on the floor beside the other empty bottles.

"Says the guy who looks like he has roadkill glued to the sides of his face," Wade gave a less than gentle tug on his muttonchops as Logan grunted and smacked his hand away.

"Oh yeah? Well at least I can grow facial hair, pal. You on the other hand don't have a speck of hair on your whole goddamn body. You're like a fucking pre-pubescent child. This is what a real man looks like," a tipsy smirk crawled across his face as he nonchalantly pulled up his tank top to show off his hairy chest and stomach.

He emphasized his point by running a hand over his hirsute, muscular torso while Wade just stared very, very hard.

"........Are you trying to turn me on right now? Because it's working," Wade was smiling deviously and reaching a hand out as Logan chuckled dryly and gave him a hard shove, sending him flying to the other end of the couch, "Just so you know, I'm adding that one to the spank bank."

"You fucking wish, bub. Think ya got a better chance with that ugly ass dog of yours," he nodded over towards the sleeping pooch while tugging his shirt back down. 

It was rare to see such a repulsed look on Wade's face as the man always seemed to be down for whatever but apparently messing with the dog was where he drew a line.

"Woah woah, that's just going too far now. You need therapy, my friend."

"Oh please. I forgot you were the fucking poster child for mental stability," Logan muttered as he lifted his legs to prop his bare feet up on the coffee table in front of him.

"Heyheyhey! What in the ever-living fuck do you think you are doing? That's where we cut up our Bolivian nose candy-"

"I thought Feige said ya can't talk about that."

"Well what Feige doesn't know won't hurt him. Now let's go. Chop chop. Feet off the table, bud," Wade scolded and kicked Logan in the leg as the man rolled his eyes and begrudgingly pulled his feet down.

"You are such a fucking caveman. That table is an antique. Furniture crafted from the finest-OOof!" Wade grunted in pain as Logan dropped his feet onto his lap with his heel coming down hard onto his groin, "Uh uh nope. Not happening. Feet off the Deadpool too." 

"Well I gotta put 'em somewhere. What? Offended that ya weren't my first choice? Be flattered I finally found a good use for you," Logan smirked big time at the genuine outrage that now displayed on Wade's face.

"What the fuck do you mean?! You've seen what a phenomenal cook I am!"

"Almost burned down the apartment."

"I'm the king of late-night karaoke!"

"Got the cops called on us three times already."

"Well I'm good at making friends everywhere I go."

"I had to beat the shit out of all those bikers to get them off of you. Not to mention you almost got us banned from my favorite bar, you dumb fuck."

Wade started to pout from Logan shooting down all of his claims, but was quickly back to grinning as he thought of something that Logan couldn't possibly argue against.

"Okay, you know what? You wanna see something I'm good at? I'll show you something I'm very good at," Wade smirked and grabbed ahold of Logan's legs, securing his ankles in one arm as he began ruthlessly tickling the bottoms of his feet.

Logan lost any sense of calm he had as he immediately broke into a hysterical laughing fit, figuring out too late that he had made a huge mistake. There weren't many things in life that could get the Wolverine to lose his cool, but Wade Wilson the Tickle Monster never failed.

"Baahahahahahaha! Wahahahahade, dohohohon't!! Okaahaahaahaay! I'll mooohoohoove 'em!!"

Logan was far too buzzed to pull his usual act of fighting back his reactions and trying to pretend that he wasn't as horribly sensitive as he really was. Not that any of that ever discouraged Wade since he knew he'd always get him to crack eventually.

"Nah, that's okay. You just keep them right where they are, Giggles. Maybe this'll teach you some manners. Or not, that's okay too. I wouldn't want to run out of excuses to do this....," he scratched at the soles with Logan going nuts and frantically pulling at his captured legs while Wade's arm only squeezed tighter around them to ensure he wouldn't escape.

"Stahahahaaap, ya dihihihick! Fuhuhuhuckin' lehehehehe-lehehet me gohohohohooo!"

"What's that? Aww did you forget your safe word again? So confusing. How do I know if you really want me to stop or not?" The merc teased with his fingers scribbling at Logan's arches as the X-man's laughter surged in volume.

"Fuhuhuhuhuck you! Aaaheheeheeheehee nohohoho! Waahaait! I'm sohohohohorry!" He howled with tears already in his eyes as Wade found the weak spots under his toes; his body twisting and flopping around as he braced his arms on the couch in his clumsy attempts to get free.

Wade always enjoyed when Logan was in this state. Not only was he a lot less homicidal than if he was sober but he wasn't nearly as uptight and didn't even fight the tickles as hard. He practically just rolled over and took it and didn't hold much back. 

He suspected that Logan didn't hate being tickled nearly as much as he made out and loved to tease him about it much to the older man's insistent denial of the fact. It's likely that Logan would rather die than ever admit something like that.

Wade then cleared his throat and began to speak in his best exaggerated Australian accent.

"Crikey mate! Here we have the Wolverine. Best known for its violent tendencies and natural ability to be a complete jackass. When confronted by a stronger and more powerful predator it begins to make the most adorable snorting sounds that are meant as a sign of his submission. Let's listen in, shall we?"

Logan had been belting out uncontrollable snorts all throughout his laughter and it was one of Wade's favorite things to poke fun at him for.

"Shhh-Shuhuhuhut uhuhuhup! You're sohohohoho fuhuhucking stuhuhuhupid!"

"Oh, I'm fucking stupid? Who's the one making all the little piggy noises, Wilbur? Speaking of piggies....," Wade smirked as he started to play with his toes again, "This little piggy was an alcoholic....This little piggy was always so mean to his friend, Wade.....This little piggy talked shit about sweet little Dogpool....This little piggy..."

"Fuhuhuhuhuuuck! Alrihihihihight I gihihihive uhuhup! Haahahahaah! No-No mohohohore!" Logan had managed to pull a foot free and was now kicking Wade in the back as hard as he could, which wasn't very hard at all due his weakened state from laughing so much.

"No more? No MORE? Sorry, sweet cheeks. But I've got plenty more," Wade then threw his foot aside as he turned and dove onto Logan's prone form to now attack his very ticklish stomach, "That was for treating me like an object! This is for saying I'm not funny!"

Wade snickered with glee as the feral man expelled a less than manly squeal of giggles and immediately curled into a protective ball, though all attempts to evade were useless. Deadpool was positively relentless.

"Nooooohohohohohoo nohohohot thehehehehere! Okahahaay you're funny! You're fuhuhuhuhuhunnyyyyyaaahahahahahaaStaahahahahahaaap!"

"Oh sure! All of a sudden I'm just magically funny now! Don't insult my intelligence! You can't bullshit a bullshitter!" Wade managed to get his hands underneath Logan's shirt, raking his fingers up and down his bare stomach and forcing him to dissolve into a lengthy, mirthful wheeze.

"Why are you so ticklish? Is it part of your mutation? A result of a Weapon X experiment gone horribly wrong? Talk, damn you! I need answers!"

Not that Wade actually expected him to answer, but Logan was laughing entirely too hard and fighting it even less. He had his head thrown back in hysterics that exposed his oversized canines, writhing feebly while tears were leaking down his reddened cheeks.

It was a sight to see the normally powerful X-man rendered helpless from such a soft touch, but it just goes to prove that healing factors and big muscles were completely useless against a tickle attack.

Wade would have loved to keep tickling him all night, and he knew the man technically could take it with the high amount of stamina he possessed, but it was time to let him go now and save it for another time. Logan had been a good sport, and he didn't want to push it too far.

Pulling his hands back he now stood triumphantly hovering over the still giggling and plastered Wolverine, who kept his body all curled up in case the crazy merc decided to come for him again.

"Are you sure you're the Wolverine of legends? I mean, this isn't exactly what I had pictured. If I hadn't personally seen you in action then I'd have some serious doubts," he smirked as Logan finally relaxed and slowly splayed out on the couch.

"Heehehehe-That's the worst Wolverine to you, bub. You-hehehee-fucking suck," Logan continued to giggle as he struggled to fight off the dizzying high of the combined tickle assault mixed with the alcohol in his bloodstream. Wade was pleased to see he hadn't soured his mood.

"But do I swallow is the real question? Hehehe, sorry, I couldn't help myself. Now did you learn your lesson, you drunken idiot?"

Logan regained some sense of focus as he slowly sat up and looked up at Wade with the most cocky grin.

"Of course not. Gonna take a lot more than that, fucker."

"Do not tempt me, Peanut. I showed you mercy this time, but I cannot guarantee this next round I will be as charitable," Wade smirked and cracked his knuckles, surprised to see Logan lean back onto the couch with his arms folded behind his head.

"Pffft. You don't fuckin' scare me. You can do your worst. Though I'm sorry to say you're not gonna get the chance. Ya wanna know why?"

"Why?" Wade practically demanded with his hands on his hips.

"That's why." Logan lifted a hand to point behind Wade as the merc whirled around to confront what may have got the drop on him and found.....nothing. Nobody.

"Wait a minute.....did I really just fall for the oldest trick in the bo-AAAHCK!" Wade let out a scream as he was pounced from behind by a playfully growling Wolverine and landed hard on his stomach with his face hitting the floor. He had seriously misjudged the other man's current ability to fight back.

"Heheh, you really are a fucking idiot. Now let's see how you like this shit...," Logan immediately dug into Wade's ribs from where he sat perched on his back and was more than thrilled by the scream that ripped out of the merc's mouth. He knew there was no way a loudmouth like Wade wouldn't be ticklish.

"Nohohooo Logan wahahahahaait! Ahahaheeheehehehehe! You cahahahan't tihihihickle meheheee! I'm-I'm the 'ler! Nohohot yooooou!"

"The what? What the hell are ya talkin' about now?" Logan didn't let up though while Wade tried to sputter out an explanation.

"The cohohohommunity! Ihihihit's a thihihiing! I g-guess tehehehechnically I'm a swihihihihitch buhuhuhut stihihill!"

Logan raised his brows, looking more confused than before as he ended up just shrugging it off and shaking his head.

"Nevermind. I really don't wanna know. Now shut up and laugh, asshole," Logan's big hands ran up and down his sides, squeezing his waist and making it back up into his armpits as Wade flailed and shrieked and desperately tried to clamp his arms down.

Logan couldn't help but laugh at Wade's reactions with how he had barely started in on him yet.

"Geez. Have ya really been this fucking ticklish this whole time? Looks like we've got some time to make up for," his fingers fluttered around under Wade's arms, producing wild cackles as he wriggled like a worm and tried to scoot across the floor.

"Get off get off! Nooohahahahahaha! I'm nohohohohot tihihihicklish! I'm nohohohohohohot!"

"Well if you're not ticklish then all this shouldn't be botherin' ya, right? Or do you prefer me stabbin' ya better?" Logan smirked as he used the three middle fingers on each hand to simulate his claws as he repeatedly poked at Wade's ribcage with rapid fire speed, "Hehe, now you're dead."

"Gaahaahahahahaha!! Nohohohohot the clahahahahaws! Mehehehehercy!" Wade begged, trying to reach behind him to smack Logan's hands away. Spoiler alert, it didn't work.

"Mercy? Ha! That's a fuckin' good one. Hey, whaddya know. I guess you are funny after all. Hehehe, tickle tickle tickle, fuckface."

Wade's hysterics were increasing in volume by the second and Logan snorted in amusement at the thought that they might get the cops called on them for a suspected murder happening in the apartment.

"Holy shit. Keep it down, will ya? You're gonna wake the-"

"What in the name of Satan's asshole is that horrible noise?!?!" Blind Al shouted in annoyance as she wandered into the room and nearly tripped over the two men roughhousing on the floor.

"Blind Al! Blind Ahahahahal! Hehehehelp mehehehehe!" Wade screamed as he managed to roll over underneath Logan and reach out a desperate hand towards his elderly roommate.

"You're such a dick. Ya know ya don't have to emphasize that she's blind all the time, ya inconsiderate moron," Logan rolled his eyes with a smile as he now had better access to Wade's ribs and stomach and dug right in.

"Baahahahah-Buhuhuhut thahahat's her nahahahahame! B-Becahahahause she's blihihihind! Gehehehet ihihit?!"

The older woman's lips pursed with disdain.

"Please keep torturing him. I will sleep good tonight knowing that stupid motherfucker is suffering," she gently patted Logan on the shoulder as she turned around and made her way out of the room.

"You got it, boss lady," Logan nodded with a smirk and scratched furiously at Wade's stomach, easily avoiding the flailing hands trying to stop him.

"Blihihihihind Al! Aahahhahahha! You trahahahaahaahaitor! Ahahahafter ahahall I've d-dohohohone for yooohoou!"

"Maybe you could gag his bitch ass too," she yelled back over her shoulder, making Logan chuckle.

"She's got a point. You're loud as fuck. Always makin' fun of how I snort while you're over here shrieking like a fuckin' little girl."

With that, Wade was struck with inspiration as he thought of a way to get Logan to stop.

"Yehehehes! Oh yehehehes Lohohohogan! Dohohohn't stop! Th-Thahahat's ihihihit! Tihihihickle me! Tihihickle mehehehe untihihihil I pahahahass ouhohout!" Wade pretended to moan between his laughs as he put his hands flat against the floor to demonstrate that he had no intention of preventing the tickling, though it was a major struggle for him to keep them there.

Logan tilted his head as he stared down at Wade in bemusement.

"Can't tell if you're tryin' to psyche me out into stopping, or if you really do like it that much. I wouldn't put it past ya to actually enjoy being tickled. Not the weirdest thing about you. Either way, if ya say not stop then I won't," Logan smirked and proceeded to tickle him even harder as he kneaded into his hips.

"Noooooohohohoooo! Okaahahaay! I lihihihied! I cahahahan't tahahahahake it! Pleasepleaseplease stooohahahahoooop!" Wade squealed and kicked his legs around and uselessly tried to grab at the other man's wrists to pry him off.

"Now was that really a lie? Are ya sure it wasn't an educated wish?" Logan loved to bring that stupid shit up every once in a while, knowing it would get under Wade's skin.

"So fuhuhuhunny I forgohohot to lahahahaugh, ahahahasshole! Nohohow gehehet off meeeheeheeheee! You fuhuhuhucking mahahahade yohohohour point!" 

Logan was about to make another quip when he heard loud barking and turned his head to see Dogpool come flying over the back of the couch towards them in superhero slow-motion.

She then rushed in to grab Wade by the hair as she pulled with all of her tiny body weight trying to free him.

"Yehehehes! Mary Puhuhuhuppins! Saahahahave pa-pa! Thaahahahat's it!"

"Yeah.....that dog weighs like eight pounds. Hehehe, don't think you're getting away from me just yet, bub," Logan snickered as he dragged Wade closer and plunged his fingers into his armpits, earning another shriek as the merc futilely clamped his arms down and thrashed even harder.

"Looohohohogaaan staaahahahahahahap! I'm-I'm sohohohohoh glahahad to seeheehee-ahahahahhah-see yohohou ehehehembrace thihihis sss-sihihide of you buhuhuhut-AAAAHH! FUHUHUHUCK!!"

A loud ripping sound was heard as Logan looked up in wonderment to see Wade with a hand gripped to his now bald head as Dogpool stood there with his whole hair piece in her mouth.

Logan couldn't help it. The sight of Wade laying there with those fucking staples sticking out of his head and the dog now gnawing on his toupee like a chew toy was just too comical.

He started to laugh. Really laugh. Laughing too damn hard to keep tickling Wade as he literally fell over, holding his sides while his whole body shook in uncontrollable guffaws.

Wade was finally able to sit up as he glared at his hysterical friend, but he had a smile on his face too.

"Really?! That's what makes you laugh?! You seeing me getting hurt is funny to you? Pretty fucked up, you sado," he pretended to sound annoyed, but really he was anything but. It was rare to see Logan laugh like this besides when Wade was tickling him half to death so he'd let him have this for the moment.

Still he had to strike back somehow for this indignity.

"Puppins attack! Kill, my little munchkin! Kill!" Wade shouted as the dog rushed towards the fallen man and jumped onto him. But Dogpool didn't have a mean bone in her body and only knew how to attack with love as she affectionately licked Logan's face much to his aversion.

"Blech! Wahahade! Gehet your dohohog!" He bellowed as he continued to laugh, but other than trying to shield his face with his arms he didn't do much to stop her.

"Okay okay, come here, sweetie pie. Lets get you away from the bad man who tried to kill your pa-pa," Wade reached over and pulled her off of him, setting her into his lap.

Logan finally fought down the giggles as he sat up to find Wade staring longingly at the destroyed toupee in his hand. He kind of felt bad for the guy and thought he should offer some words of encouragement.

"Yeah, that thing's fucked. Big time. But hey, I think you look better without it," he nodded, using his shirt to wipe off his face as Wade gave him a genuine smile.

"You're only saying that because you're drunk," the merc teased back as Logan shrugged in response and grinned broadly.

"You're probably right. I wouldn't touch ya with a ten foot pole."

"That's okay. I don't mind doing all the touching...," Wade gave him a quick squeeze on the side as Logan snorted and lurched away from his reach and got to his feet.

"Don't fucking start that again. I'd say we're even now. Besides, you don't wanna fuck with me now that I know how damn ticklish you are. It's a stalemate. We can put this all behind us and move on. Now if ya don't mind I'd like to get some sleep," he waved the other man away as he grabbed some blankets off the back of the couch to set up his sleeping area.

Wade just smirked as he began walking out of the room with Dogpool in his arms.

"Silly silly Wolvie. I'm not sure you realize the implications of your actions. But I'm afraid this is far from over. You, my friend, have just started a war."

Logan's face fell as he only stared back at Wade in wide-eyed silence.

"Nighty night, Peanut. Sweet dreams," Wade smirked devilishly, waving with wiggling fingers as he flicked off the light switch on the wall.

[silverzoomies]

Turkish Delight

peter maximoff x reader smut

chapter 1: sweet talkin'

link to chapter 2: here

warnings: shameless smut, porn without plot, phone sex, mutual masturbation, best friends, dirty talk

word count: 6,368

a/n: hiyaaa !! i'm back with more filth !! peter speaks russian in this one. i've seen people use russian in place of sokovian language before. and since i've been learning russian for a while, i thought i'd give it a shot !! if you're familiar with the language and anything seems off, please let know asap !! as usual, apologies if peter seems ooc, or if my writing isn't up to par !!

tag list (if i forgot you, please remind me !!): @dewberryobssesed @violetharmonscupcake @kaismanwich @jellyluvr @taintandviolent @ahoyladiesz @scene-and-dandylover @quickandsilvers @luttic @billielourdslays

■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

Chillaxing on the sofa in his mom’s basement, Peter drew out a sigh. His hooded eyes gaped at the TV screen. As he channel surfed, his thumb tapped lazily on the remote. Peter stopped to check each channel in abrupt intervals. Afternoon cable was boring as hell today. It failed to grasp his short lived attention span.

Seinfeld reruns? He saw just about all of ‘em. Soap Operas? Those were more his mom’s thing. Huge pass. Nature documentaries? Could be cool. Guess it depended on which one, though.

Oh. It was the one about the polar bear’s great journey across the arctic! Nifty enough. Except, Peter saw that one three or four times already now. Скучный (boring). Так скучно (So boring).

‘Kay, soooo…TV was kind of a no-go. Instead, Peter popped on the PS1 and settled for a game of Metal Gear Solid. The game’s opening intro was a little too slow for his liking, but Peter forced himself to focus. It sucked he was so antsy today, so fidgety and impatient. He needed some kind of distraction. Any distraction. And he needed one fast.

Peter bounced a leg, half invested in the game’s dialogue. His fingers absentmindedly flicked the controller buttons. Not even five minutes into playing, he found himself frustrated and bored again. This time around, he figured some company might ease his ennui.

He darted across the arm of the couch to a side table. Over a stack of comic books and empty cans of soda, he snatched the receiver to a Garfield phone. Peter dialed a number in less than a second. Too fast, at first. The phone didn’t even register his request. Rolling his eyes, he dialed the number again. Slower this time.

Peter kept the vibrant hunk of orange plastic between his cheek and shoulder. Buzzy ringing echoed on the other end of the line, as he waited for the recipient to pick up. The time it took for a voice to finally respond felt like fifty billion years. Your voice. One of Peter’s closest comrades. The pal he shared most, if not all, of his free time with.

There were days when you visited, and you laid back on the sofa with him. With your legs stretched over his lap and a magazine in your hands, you relaxed. Peter would always do his usual, playing whatever game he ‘bought’ from the local K-Mart. Every time he cursed himself for making a misstep, you giggled. You knew how frustrating it was for him, if he wasn't a hundred leaps ahead of everything. And just to get back at you - but also to hear you laugh again - he’d reach over and dig his fingers into your belly.

He loved that it took such minimal effort to make you laugh. You always had an easygoing warmth about you. And maybe you were also pretty cute too. Sometimes, the crook of your smile made him blush. Oh, and you didn't mind duking it out in Mario Kart sometimes. That was also kinda cool. What more could a lonesome guy ask for? Просто друзья. Ничего больше (Just friends. Nothing more). Yeah. He could be content with that. No problem.

Ten minutes into conversation with you, Peter breathed a yawn into the receiver.

“You know, I’m surprised you have the patience for talking on the phone.” You joked.

The speakers roared with a soft buzz in his ear. Peter didn’t register your words at first. Blinking lazily, he tapped the PS1 controller buttons at rapid speed. In the game, Snake fought off an onslaught of bad guys. Peter faked his offense with a scoff.

“Seriously? Man, what’s up with that? It’s like everyone thinks I can’t do stuff at normal speed without goin’ berserk.” He said, cursing under his breath as Snake got gunned down again.

A small part of him wished you were there, with your legs over his lap, cracking jokes at his expense. Over the phone, you emitted a gentle laugh.

“Because you have? Multiple times, dude!” You said.

Surely you could hear Peter’s eyes roll in his skull.

“Oh, yeah? Name five.” he pressed.

The fast paced clicking of the buttons echoed like a trill in the basement. He overheard the sound of rustling as you shifted in place. If Peter had to guess, he’d bet his left foot you were still lazing around in bed. It was a Saturday, after all. With the hour tipping on the edge of late afternoon. You always moved at the slowest of speeds on your off days.

“I’m just saying! I totally get it. Even I don’t have the patience for chats on the phone sometimes.” You said, and a squeaky yawn followed.

More rustles scuffed from your end, as if you moved to stretch. Keeping his gaze fixed on the flickering, CRT screen; Peter followed flashes of light from each grunt’s gun. His reaction time proved effortless as always. His methods, not so much.

“Nah, it’s cool.” Peter mumbled after a beat, “Doesn’t bother me much if I’m talkin’ to you.  You’re not boring, first of all. And on the off chance I do get bored, I can just say - hey, babe, I’m gonna hang up. And you won’t get-uhhh…” He lingered on his next thought, distracted with gunning down more masked baddies, “You won’t get, like, butt hurt over it."

“Why would I?” You laughed, “Did someone seriously get offended by that?”

“My aunt did once. She got mad pissed ‘cuz I told her I was ‘kinda bored’ on the phone. She made me pass it to my mom, so she could rat me out. Said I showed a ‘lack of consideration'; ‘er whatever.” Peter paused, brows furrowed. In Metal Gear, Snake perished yet again. Peter rolled his eyes once more, “She’s kinda mental, though. это возмутительно (it’s outrageous).”

Your only response was a quiet hum of acknowledgement. Peter broke the silence that followed.

“Hey, you’re not busy today, are you? Wanna do somethin’ later?” He asked, knowing full well you had jack shit to do.

“I don’t know. I’m feeling soooooo lazy today.” You playfully teased.

The soft pattern of your breathing sent electric tingles down Peter’s neck. Shuddering, he shook off those unexpected chills. Another beat, and Peter groaned, as Snake perished over a low poly landscape. You gotta take it slow and stealthy, man - Peter reminded himself.

“Хорошо (okay)? So? Come be lazy over here then.” He replied, “Tell you what. If you do, I’ll go ‘n snag some of those Turkish delights you like. The same ones my mom gotcha for your birthday. Remember? From Sokovia?”

Your voice perked up instantly, bringing a cheesy smile to his face. Homely fondness simmered in his chest, and Peter felt himself blush. He pulled his lip between his teeth, pausing his game to focus more on conversation. Leaving Snake stranded in the middle of the snow.

“Oh my gosh!! No way?? I haven’t had those in forever! Seriously, the ones from Sokovia?” You chimed.

“Hell yeah! But you gotta get outta bed first, dingus. C’monnnn.” Peter whined, “I’m so bored here, babe. Oh! I totally forgot. I finally got my hands on a Gameboy Color too. Swear on my life I paid for it this time. You could come over ‘n try it ouuuuuut.” He teased in a sing-song voice, wiggling his brows.

“Gameboys and Turkish delights? You’re spoiling me today, Peter! What’s the occasion?” You joked over the line.

He shrugged, forgetting you couldn’t see him, “Bored outta my friggin’ skull. That’s what.” After a beat, he awkwardly added, “And maybe I like hangin’ with you? Do I even need a reason?”

“Well, I gotta admit…you had me at Turkish delights.” You feigned a dreamy tone.

Peter chuckled again. Under his breath, he muttered softly, “ Это все, что тебе нужно, да (That’s all you need, huh)?”

“Huh?” You asked, oblivious to his comment, “What’d you say? I didn’t catch that last part.”

Peter ran a hand through his silver locks, leaving his hair loose and messy. Cradling the phone in his other hand, he knitted his lips to one side.

“Nothin’. Don’t worry about it. You want me to come get you? ‘Cuz I can.” He checked his digital watch, decked out in a Star Wars theme, “I can right now, if you-”

“It’s fine. I love going out with you, but I really don’t wanna deal with motion sickness today. I just had lunch too. No offense!” Another yawn rang over the phone, hitching into a squeal at the end. Peter didn’t realize he was smiling so big until his cheeks started to hurt, “I’ll just drive over. Sound good?”

Peter rolled his eyes, sarcastically groaning. He threw his head back into the sofa cushions, playing up his fake frustrations.

“Auuuuuuugh! But that’ll take years.” He dragged a hand down his face, pulling his cheeks under his fingertips, “Is this ‘cuz you blew chunks last time?? You know that doesn’t bother me, right? Everyone does it, babe.”

You made a noise of disgust. Something like an eugh , “Please, don’t remind me. That sucked so much. Yeah, no, I’d rather not. I really need a break from it.” You sighed again. Kind of a bummer, but he could deal.

“It’s whatever you want, I guess. So, when are you gonna head out?” Peter asked, sitting up on the sofa and putting the controller aside.

He bounced a leg at rapid speed, his knee moving in a flesh tone blur of motion. Less from agitation, more due to anticipation.

“I’ll leave soon. Just give me a few minutes. Think you can wait?” You chuckled in that sweet, quirky way again. The melody gave Peter butterflies. Ignoring the fluttering in his belly, he pushed himself off the couch. Grabbing the base of the Garfield phone, Peter cradled the lil guy in an arm. He figured he may as well get dressed, and freshen up before you arrived, “It’s so cold today. I haven’t even gotten out of bed yet! I’m still bundled up in my undies. Got your jacket on too. You left a Game n Watch in the pocket, by the way. I didn’t even know they still made those!”

“Yeah. I totally called that one. Get up already, ya slacker.” Peter joked trapping the phone between his cheek and shoulder again. He scratched his bare chest. His fingertips grazed the sparse covering of white hairs there. Yawning, he nodded, “Okay. Okay. Okay. Sure, just-”

Something about your last statement finally clicked in Peter’s brain. He rapidly blinked, shaking his head fast enough to give himself whiplash. Peter did a quadruple take.

“Подожди (wait)! Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, waiiiiiit …hold on a sec.” He narrowed his eyes, “Say that again?”

“Say what again? The part about the Game n Watch?” You asked, and Peter’s brows furrowed.

“N-Nah. The…did you just…have you been lyin’ around in your underwear this whole time?”

“Uh, yeah? Why? Is this revolutionary information?” You chuckled.

“In my jacket? Like, I didn’t hear that wrong? What’d you like…sleep in it ‘er somethin’?” Peter arched a silver brow, pressing the phone handset closer to his cheek. As if doing so might somehow help him hear you more clearly.

It really wasn’t that big of a deal either way. You borrowed his jackets all the time. Peter never thought anything of it before this conversation. Aside from the fact that - when you did return them, he loved the sweet scent you left behind. The smell of your perfume, with the added bonus of your natural pheromones…

Ебать (Fuck)! Why was he even thinking about this? The two of you had such a casual thing goin’ on. But now, Peter thought of you in a different light. Something friskier. Not that he meant to. Maybe killer boredom + cute friend = horny speedster. Or perhaps the planets aligned in some totally off-the-wall way.

Whatever the case, Peter’s mind raced on autopilot. He pictured the way you might look right now. In your room, spread across your bed in nothing but your underwear and - Ебена мать (Holy shit) - his jacket. With your long legs bare, your knees bumping together as you squeezed your thighs shut. Tummy exposed. And your tits-

Woooooooah there! Slow down, casanova! Peter shouldn’t be…nah, he really shouldn’t be wondering what your breasts looked like. Ppfffbbbbt …’kay, so, maybe in the past he thought about it once or twice. But what dude wouldn't contemplate the hidden mystery of a pal's titties sometimes, ah?

“Well, so what if I did? That doesn’t weird you out, does it?” You asked, a careful waver in your voice.

“Uhhhh…nahhh, babe. Just…” Peter shifted in place, rerouting his thoughts, “Just…got one hell of an image in my head. Might’ve pictured you like that for no particular reason at all.”

Lucky for him, you didn’t seem to think anything of his confession.

“Not much to imagine…” You replied. Сомнительно (Doubtful).

“I mean…pffbbbttt…sure, yeah. Maybe not.” Peter awkwardly laughed, scratching the back of his neck. His voice dropped, a little more hushed, “Unless…you’re wearin’ some really cute panties over there.” Again, he laughed, rushing out a quick, “I’m kiddin’. I’m kiddin’. I’m kiddin’. I’m totally messin’. Just bustin’ your balls, babe.”

Except…he sorta wasn’t. Peter found himself oh-so curious. Twisting the phone's orange wire around his finger, he anticipated your reaction. Anxious you might think him weird for pushing things too far. Never had the two of you charted this kind of territory. It was a minefield, with a 95% chance neither one would make it out unscathed.

“I guess? I think they’re kind of cute.” You added, innocent as ever. Awesome. You weren’t peeved at him, at least. Peter brought the phone to his chest, exhaling an anxious breath to calm his racing heart. When he put the phone to his ear again, he figured you’d moved on. But your cadence shifted. To test the boundaries of your friendship, you teased, “They’re pretty small on me, though.”

Ah. Ah. Интересно. Очень интересно (Interesting. Very interesting). What an unexpected but totally wicked development. Peter lowered himself slowly onto the couch, setting the phone's base on the side table. He eased backwards into the cushions, and tightened his twisting of the phone wire. Swallowing hard, Peter found he had difficulty focusing. Especially with his imagination running so goddamn wild.

“Yeah? …How small is pretty small?” He dared to ask.

Long seconds of silence ticked by at the pace of a narcoleptic sloth. If Peter weren’t so eager to hear what you had to say, he may have torn his hair out. Over the line, you laughed.

“Small enough they barely cover my ass? Why are you so curious all of a sudden?” You cooed.

Peter fluttered his inky eyes, nibbling chapped skin on his lip. Fuzzy pink swarmed the rest of his face, as his mind conjured images of you so effortlessly. Clear as day. Heat stirred to life in his groin, and Peter pictured the way your plush cheeks might hold in tight painties. His breath hitched.

“I-uh…” Peter felt the heat in his cheeks creep down his neck, flustered at lightspeed, “Just thinkin’...maybe you should do somethin’ about that?” He gritted his teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose. What a lame response, “Черт возьми (damn it)!” He huffed under his breath, too quiet for you to hear.

Toying with this newly discovered sexual tension, Peter humorously asked-

“Sooooooo…what color?”

You giggled into the receiver, airy and light. His body registered the noise somewhere , down south of his belly. He wondered if you were as flustered as him. And the visual of your bashful face and shy smile had his heartbeat ramping up to mach 10.

“What? A-Are you for real asking me…oh my god, dude!” Your giggles turned into goofy snorts. Which he found so endearing. Once you composed yourself, you spoke again. Though, your tone came off as more flirtatious, “If you really wanna know so bad…then fine. They’re black. Lacy. With a little bow on the front.”

Дерьмо (Shit)...

His silver brows soared high, disappearing under his bangs. Paying little attention to his instinctive actions, Peter guided his free hand between his thighs. Inwardly, he told himself he was only adjusting his uncomfortable hard-on. ‘Cuz it’d be totally weird if he did anything else…right? Best to ignore the movement of his thumb, as it absentmindedly circled his bulge.

“Huh…that’s so…” Peter blinked, clearing his throat and masking his nerves with a chuckle, “‘Kay, I’ll be up front with you, babe. That sounds cute as hell. Very nice.”

“Really? Oh, please, Peter. They’d be cute on anybody.” You scoffed.

“Uh huh…” He smirked, dropping his tone even lower, “‘Cept, now that I’m really thinkin’ about it? I’m bettin’ they look criminally cute on you.” Peter lazily smirked.

You laughed, breathless like you ran a thousand miles, “Wh-...what are we even doing right now? Seriously, why am I talking to you about my-” The uneasiness in your voice bled through the line.

Your concern was for good reason. Nevertheless, Peter interrupted you mid-sentence.

“Easy there, chuckles. We’re just chatting. Nothin’ too unusual, right? We’ve had some seriously raunchy conversations before. Remember? That time I got laid on a golf course? You told me about that time some dude shot a load in your eye. What’s the difference, anyway?” Peter grimaced, as he recalled your story from eons ago.

You giggled yet again, “Peter, you know damn well what the difference is!” You clarified with a sigh, still playful. The phone wire went slack around his finger, as Peter second guessed himself. He parted his lips, on the cusp of apologizing. Bringing one hand up to the phone, he held it loosely. Your sugary voice chimed again, “I’m kinda wondering, though…what would you think if I told you I’m topless right now?”

His grip compressed around the handset.

“Topless, huh?” Peter cast a quick glance at his hard-on, twitching painfully under his boxers. His mind jumped straight to sinful places again. Peter thought about what your tits probably look like, embraced in his jacket. Nipples hard, grazing the inner-lining. He swallowed, “What’re you tryna tell me? You gonna drive over here in nothin’ but that?” Peter quipped.

A more sultry laugh melted through the receiver. Peter trembled, as your smooth voice coaxed him like a tempting song. His free palm squeezed his bulge, putting pressure to his length over fabric. Peter’s brows turned inward, and he fluttered his eyes shut.

“I guess that wouldn’t be so bad, if it wasn’t so cold outside. It’s freezing today. I don’t know how you can run as fast as you do when the weather’s like this.” Your tone disguised itself with lighthearted innocence again, “It’s not any warmer in my room either. My nipples could cut glass. They’re, like, soooo hard.”

Peter adjusted himself on the sofa, giving the swell of his bulge another teasing squeeze.

“ Ты маленькая соблазнительница (you little temptress)...”  His hot breath fanned the phone.

“I love it when you talk like that…” You replied, “Even if I have no idea what you’re saying. It sounds really hot, to be totally honest.”

“Oh, yeah?” Peter teased his lip with his teeth, speaking in a more flirtatious voice; buttery smooth, “ Я забыл вынести мусор (I forgot to take out the trash)...” For added effect - just to embarrass you more - he tacked on a husky moan.

Peter made himself blush, as the sound came out far more pornagraphic than he intended. The rasp of his voice scraped through the line in a hushed, “ Oh, yeah, baby. ”

The erotic tension you felt from his teasing was palpable, even over the phone. Peter could sense the shift in the way you gasped. So faint, so shy, so cute.

“Oh…oh, wow...uhm…” You tried concealing your bashfulness with more of those candy coated giggles. But Peter could practically hear the blood racing to your cheeks, “What’s that mean? Something good, I hope.”

Peter bit his tongue, lips turning in a cheeky grin.

“It means you’re really turnin’ me on…”

Another hesitant pause fell between the two of you, before you scoffed.

“Oh my god, no it doesn’t! I can hear you laughing!” You griped, snickering along with Peter. A few more tension heavy beats pulsed over the line. You spoke again, “Hey…I’m sorry. Can I put things on pause for a sec? I just wanted to ask…are you okay with this?”

“Are you?” Peter gently asked, giving you ample time to think about it.

“I don’t know…maybe…” You whispered, “Isn’t this, like, super weird for you?”

“I mean…suuuuuuure. It’s totally weird. If you kept goin', I wouldn't be into it...at all...” He bullied you with a playful edge, hoping you could read the flirtatious undertone in his voice.

“Ohhhhh…you wouldn't be?” Judging by the saucy lilt in your voice, you most definitely caught on, “You know what would be even weirder?”

Peter adjusted on the sofa again. Getting comfortable, he laid on his back. His taut legs stretched across the cushions, and Peter propped his head on the couch’s arm.

“Whazzat? Enlighten me, babe. I’m listenin’. You got my full attention.” He teased.

“Your full attention, huh? I must be doing something right.” You snickered, “So…you know how I said I love it when you talk…like that?” Your voice wavered, “What I really meant was-uhm…when you do that on the phone…it makes me kind of horny.”

His brown hues burst open, wider than ever. Peter’s pupils dilated, expanding as far as the universe itself. He swallowed again, his mouth falling open. Your filthy confession set his arousal ablaze, making his dick twitch. As heated desire took over, Peter couldn’t restrain himself. He snuck his fingers under the waistband of his boxers, fingertips gliding over silver hairs. A small piece of him almost felt guilty for doing so.

“It does, huh? Хорошо знать (Good to know).” Peter whispered, tenderly grasping his shaft.

You made a naughty squeak of a noise in response, “Y-Yeah, Peter, I’m serious. You really have to stop doing that.”

“Почему (Why)? Are you soakin’ yourself over it? Gettin’ a lil wet? It’s cool. You can tell me…” Peter heckled, expelling a breath as he gave his dick a single tug.

“Oh, I bet you wanna know all about that, huh? You’re so bad, Quickie...” You teased, clicking your tongue.

Peter’s ears burned, turning pink as he took in the coquettish nature of your voice. Scoffing, he feigned his indignance.

“What?! Hey, nah nah nah! You started this! Это несправедливо, черт возьми (it’s not fair. Dammit)!” Peter laughed, carefree with you as always, “You can’t seriously drop a bombshell like that and expect me not to-”

“Not to come running?” You hummed, sweet tempered, “I’m just messing with you, baby. But since we’re on the topic…I made such a mess of these little panties. Just from listening to your voice.”

Peter couldn’t even pretend he didn’t like the sound of ‘baby’ on your tongue.

“Oh, man…anything but the panties…” He joked, “You should-uh…you should save yourself some trouble. Y’know…take ‘em off, maybe? Might be more comfortable.” Peter hinted, playing nonchalant, “Just tryna be a good friend. Give you some advice. You should for sure take it.”

“But I’m already so cold…” You whimpered, “Your jacket’s so warm. Smells good too. Really good. But it’s not enough to keep me covered.” You spoke with flirtatious innocence, and Peter played along.

“No harm done, принцесса (princess). I’ll warm you up if you need me to.” He reassured, sweet talking you over the phone, “Ты думаешь, что я не позабочусь о тебе? (Do you think I won't take care of you)?" Peter mumbled again. He listened to your sickly sweet laughs, before asking, “So…do you get like this every time we talk on the phone?”

“Mmmm…maybe.” You hummed, “What if I said yes?” You shuffled around again, and Peter’s mind jumped elsewhere. He imagined you shed yourself of damp, black lace. Leaving you wanton and needy in nothing but his jacket, “You know…we’ve been talking about me a lot this whole time. You wanna tell me what you’re wearing? I don’t really have a visual.”

“Oh…me?” Your request caught Peter off guard.

“Yeah, you. Who else, blockhead?” You playfully quipped, smoothing your voice to say, “You don’t have to be shy. I just wanna know, so I can think about taking it off of you.”

Peter didn’t know he could blush this much. Puffing a bashful laugh, he looked down at his body. Mostly nude and toned enough. He had his x-gene to thank for his pecs and hard abs. A fluffy bouquet of silver hairs peeked out from his boxers. Underneath, his dick throbbed, pressing eagerly into fabric.

“Uhm…I’m not wearin’ a lot? Nothin’ special. Just some black, boxer briefs, I guess. Wait, no-” Peter lifted a foot, his lips curling in a goofy smile, “Got my Star Wars socks on too.”

A sensual moan graced his ears, “That’s so hot.” You softly whined, “Star Wars socks? Peter, just take me now.”

Despite the fact you were totally messing with him, that playful comment made his chest tight. 

“Nothing else though?” You pressed.

“Nnnnnnnnnnope.” He drew out the word, popping the P, “Just the-uh…yeah. Boxers ‘n sexy socks. Not much to take off.”

“And you’re pretty fit, aren’t you? You always looked really jacked to me, so-” You said.

Peter cocked a brow, snickering to cover his embarrassment.

“Wooooahhh…you been checkin’ me out, babe?” He asked, darting his dark hues across his athletic bod. Peter flexed an arm, “Sure, I guess I’m in decent shape.” He found he couldn’t dismiss your compliments. Peter looked good, and he knew it. But he preferred hearing it from you, “Hey, you wanna know somethin’, like, way crazy?”

“This? What we’re doing right now is so crazy, right?” You laughed, sounding as bashful as him.

Peter snickered, “True. Truuuue. But, uh…” He shrank in his spot on the couch, pressing the vibrant handset closer into his cheek. Pre-cum seeped through his boxers, as Peter tugged his dick steady and slow. Careful not to stimulate himself too much yet. He dropped his voice to a hushed rasp, “I’m kinda in the same spot you are right now. If you-uh…if you catch my drift.”

The two of you knew each other for a long time. Several years, in fact. But never once did Peter think he’d hear his closest pal say-

“Ohhhh. Are you hard right now, baby?”

Oh. Yeah, this buddy-buddy friendship was in major trouble. Doomed to crash and burn. As soon as the words fell from your lips, spoken in your honeyed voice; Peter’s breath hitched in his throat. He sank his teeth so hard into his lip, he almost broke skin.

“Y-Yeah. Since you-uh…started talkin’ about your panties. I’m sorry, babe. Just been kinda bored and worked up all day.” He sheepishly chuckled.

“You poor baby…” You coddled him over the phone. And while he should’ve been embarrassed, Peter had no problem with you talking like that, “Can I ask how big you are?”

Peter stalled for a moment, before pulling the front of his boxers down. His hardness flopped against his belly, pulsating and ruddy from his teasing. Taking his aching length in his hand, he rubbed the underside with his thumb.

“You mean my dick? It’s-uhhhh…like six, maybe seven inches almost?” He squeezed his cock, milking beads of pre-cum, “But size doesn’t matter, yeah? It’s the motion of the ocean, babe.”

“Noooooo, baby. You’re so perfect. Wish I could see how good you look like that…” You cooed over the phone.

Your kindly words and airy tone made the veins in his dick throb with electric heat. Peter clutched his cock tight, pumping the velvet skin a touch faster. Giving himself just a simple taste of relief. His stomach clenched, hardening his abs.

“Не так идеально, как ты выглядишь (Not as perfect as you look)...” Peter muttered, drawing in a shallow breath, “Babe, I gotta tell ya, I’m really feelin’ this. I’m so into you right now. W-Want you to keep talkin’ like-uh...”

His imagination took his depravity to the next level. Now, Peter thought about joining you in your room. He wondered how soft and smooth your skin would feel. Supple and hot under his fingertips. What might you look like writhing under him, whimpering as he played with you? As he teased you? Man, you were both so screwed.

“Never thought dirty talking with me would turn you on so much…” You giggled.

Peter secured the handset between his cheek and shoulder. With both hands free, he raised his palm to his lips. He drew a long stripe with his tongue, bringing his damp hand to his cock. The slick lubrication pulled a gentle moan from his throat.

“M-Maybe a little bit. Ебать (Fuck), maybe a lot.” Peter groaned, labored in his breathing, “Can you - Ебать (fuck) - you wanna do somethin’ for me? Just a little favor between friends? S’all I’m askin’, baby.”

“Anything you want, Peter.” You mewled.

“Can you- mmmmohgod -” Peter choked up. He almost chickened out, but pushed himself to ask, “Can you touch yourself for me? Please? Пожалуйста, моя маленькая принцесса (Please, my little princess)...” His foreign whispers weaved pretty whimpers from your lips.

“Yeah. Yeah, I can do that, if you want me to. But you have to do the same for me too. It’s only fair, right? Equal exchange?” You whispered, acting playful again.

Peter breathed a guilty chuckle, “Uhm…yeahhhhh…about that…”

You softly gasped, “Have you been-”

“Playin’ with my dick this whole time? Maybe.” Peter admitted. His thumb caught another pearl of pre, spreading the slickness over his sensitive head, “But I’m not, like, totally jerkin’ it yet…” He lied, pressing you to encourage him.

“Oh, you’re not, huh? What are you doing then?” You asked, “Are you being a bad boy, Pietro?” The abrupt drop of his given name shocked him into silence.

Peter felt his groin tighten, and an exhilarating rush electrified his nerves. For the thousandth time, you giggled. And for the thousandth time, Peter’s heart leapt. Dumbfounded, he gathered his composure and played along again.

“Y-Yeah. So bad. You gotta help me, babe. I’m just-...I’m so hard. Don’t think I can stop myself if you keep talkin’ like that.”

Through the receiver, Peter’s ears caught wind of a needy mewl. He gripped his cock hard, guiding his fist in firmer strokes. His legs quivered, and the heels of his Star Wars socks slid across the couch.

“Does it feel good when you touch your pretty cock like that, sweetheart?” You cooed.

Peter almost went straight into cardiac arrest. He jolted in place, feeling his cock stiffen in his grasp.

“Святой трах (Holy fuck)..." Peter suffocated on his own groans. For an instant, his words failed him, “Uhmmm…hah…wow-uh…Ебать (fuck). Feels good, yeah. Don’t think it’s enough. I need-...uhm…I want-uh…”

“Yeah? What do you want, baby. It’s okay.” You spoke so sugary sweet again.

“I-...Я просто хочу увидеть тебя (I just want to see you)...” Peter’s veins tingled under his touch, as he tugged his dick with more urgency, “Shit! I-...how come I never knew you could be like this-” And to Peter’s ultimate humiliation, he whimpered your name. Along with another whiny, “ Ебать (Fuck). ”

“Like what?” Your coy voice teased him over the line.

“I dunno…so-uh…so damn nasty.” He joked, and even through the phone; he knew he had you flustered again.

“I guess we all have our secrets, hmm? Tell me more, Pietro. When you touch yourself like that. With those big, strong hands…how’s it feel?” You asked, driving him to keep going.

Peter snorted a laugh, “Strong hands? What??” His endearing playfulness took a backseat, as he grunted into the receiver, “God…feels like my strong hand’s not enough. Мне реально тебе нужно прямо сейчас. Нужна так сильно (I really need you right now. I need you so much).” His voice fell to a whisper. Pumping his slick, crimson cock through his fist, he breathlessly pleaded, “Talk to me, baby. Please. Tell me-ohhh…tell me what you’re doin’ over there.”

You squealed a sultry giggle, further igniting Peter’s pleasured frenzy. He squirmed in his spot on the sofa, forcing himself to stay put. Battling the forces of the universe, it was all Peter could do not to race to your room. Just to spread your legs and hump you like a speedy bunny.

“Mmmm…I’m just doing what you asked me to…I’m being so good for you right now.” You whimpered.

“Oh. Okay…uhm…far out. Uh…wanna gimme the steamy details?” He heckled again, fumbling his words in his nervousness, “Please, don’t hold off on me, baby.”

“I’m…” Your precious voice wavered, teeming with awkwardness as your confidence dwindled, “I’m playing with my little pussy. Just for you. And I’m so wet. I can’t stop thinking about your hands…so big…”

“Боже мой (my god).” Peter muttered. Combating impatience brought upon by his genes, he willed himself to take things slow. His strokes became steady and teasing, as he edged his aching cock, “Holy shit, babe. Yeah? Keep goin’...”

You moaned soft squeals into the receiver, “I want you so bad, Quickie. Please, baby, don’t make me beg. Can you touch this little pussy for me? Please? Your fingers are so big. I don’t think they’d fit all at once. It’s been a while, and I’m so tight.” Your naughty voice pleaded.

“God, I wanna touch you so bad. Я хочу прикоснуться к этой сладкой киске (I want to touch that sweet pussy).” Peter’s impatience got the better of him, and he quickly gave in. He grasped his cock hard, wringing himself fast enough to make his balls bounce. Creasing his brows, he groaned, “Ohhh..What’re you tryna to do to me, babe? Talkin’ about how tight you are…Ебать…”

“But I ammmm.” You whined again, “I’m squeezing my tiny fingers so tight. It’s so soft and hot for you. Bet it’d feel really good if you stretched me. With your fingers, with your cock - fuck, Pietro. I just need you, baby.”

“Please, baby, oh, please? Wanna be inside you. Wanna feel you. I promise I won’t go too fast. Я обещаю (I promise).” Peter whimpered. But as you mewled again, another forceful wave of carnal heat crashed over Peter. In a quieter tone, he choked, “Нет, я могу. Я пойду так быстро (No, I can. I’ll go so fast).”

“Pietro, you can go as fast as you want, baby. I won’t stop you.” You pleaded, your broken voice so kittenish and wanton, “F-Fuck. I’m rubbing my clit. So sensitive. Thinking about you. Thinking about your mouth on me.”

“Ебать!!” Peter moaned through clenched teeth. His self control rapidly abandoned him. Speedily rutting his sore cock through the squeeze of his fist, his body refused to slow down, “Говоря о скорости (Speaking of speed)...” Peter craned his neck back, raising a hand to keep the handset to his ear, “You gotta stop makin’ all those cute noises, baby. Please…I can’t-”

As surges of horny pleasure circulated through his body, Peter thought of you again. He imagined you on your bed, caged under him between his arms. In his daydreams, he kissed you intimately, touching your pretty, naked body. Peter wanted to feel how wet you were for himself. And hell, the danger of pushing your friendship past its limits made you more tempting. Such a lewd, risky thought pushed him closer to the edge of something righteous.

“Baby, I wanna see you. Can I? Can I see you stroke that thick cock? Would you let me? Ohh, fuck, Pietro.” You whimpered. And your noises were so shamelessly lecherous, you could’ve made a pornstar blush, “Can I kiss it, please? Can I kiss your big cock?” You whimpered.

“О боже мой, пожалуйста (Oh my god, please)!” Peter choked, every word hitching in his throat, “Baby…babe, you can’t do this. Ya really can’t be-” He laughed lazily, his dark eyes falling half lidded. His cock throbbed, bright red and turning purple at the tip. He rutted in a speedy blur, “Stop. Stop. Stop. I’m gonna…babe, I’m gonna bust-” He slurred.

You squealed his name as loudly as your hushed voice would allow. And Peter swore he could hear the slick sound of your fingers. As they played with your pretty, little cunt.

“I’m gonna cum, baby. Please cum with me. Please? Pietro, OH~!”

“я кончаю, я кончаю (I’m cumming, I’m cumming)! ‘M Gonna-” Peter’s moans seeped through the receiver, his wet lips parting and mouth hanging open.

His swollen cock erupted in white-hot jets, coating his pecs and belly. With all his muscles tensed, Peter’s legs trembled. He rode out those lusty waves in tandem with you. The pleasure of orgasm sounded leagues more intense on your side. You took longer to cruise through it, whimpering and moaning Peter’s name. As you did, Peter basked in his momentary afterglow. Keeping the phone pressed to his ear, his head resting on the arm of the sofa; he listened to you with a smirk on his lips. At the end of your journey in ecstasy, your moans turned into flustered giggles.

Peter's thoughts reeled him in again. Imagining you, looking so sheepish and fine in his jacket. Now, he desperately wanted the real deal. To see you in all your post-nut glory. Mere seconds later, his sore cock pulsed to life again. As his hardness squirmed on his belly, Peter breathed another sigh.

On his end, you heard nothing but silence. You kept calling his name, your tired voice infused with anxiety.

“Uhm…Peter? Hey…are you there?” You asked.

And he didn't say a single word more.

[tenelkadjowrites]

Wallflower - Part One - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)

PART TWO HERE.

🌻 Summary: Having not given much thought about your nerdy coworker, Seonghwa, all of that changes when you hear a rumor about his sexual prowess in bed. 

🌻 Word count: 13k

🌻 Genre & warnings: nerdy seonghwa with coworker reader. fem pronouns for reader. reader is drunk at one point. smut. some dirty talk. fingering, oral sex (reader receiving)

🌻 Tags are now moved to the bottom of the fic.

this fic is not meant to represent Seonghwa in any way, shape or form.

               “Sorry, I know I’m late,” You say with a huff, plopping down in the chair, clutching your coffee in one hand.

               “What kept you?” Your coworker and friend asks, glancing at the time on her phone, “We got here ten minutes ago.”  

               “Sir Dipshit was busy boring me to tears about the sales numbers for this week,” You reply with an eyeroll, “What did I miss?”

               It’s Thursday afternoon as well as your lunch break. As usual, your group of work friends met at the coffee shop across the street from the office. Sitting outside on the patio, the sun high in the sky with a light breeze, it would be a perfect day if you didn’t have to return to work soon. Sometimes, being inside all day at that desk is a bummer…more often than not recently, it’s been an incredible bummer.

               “Nothing much, we were just complaining about the usual,” Your other coworker says before taking a sip of her green tea.

               It is a daily event to go to the coffee shop at lunch and complain about everything – your coworkers, the corporation you all work for, the daily tasks. It is a ritual, something that gets everyone through the day, including yourself although lately it hasn’t been helping as much as it used to.

               “We have that office ‘party’ this weekend,” You remind them which elicits a series of groans among the small group, “And Sir Dipshit made it pretty clear it’s mandatory to attend.”

               Your boss, otherwise known as Sir Dipshit, lived to work and worked to live. The man had no existence outside of dedicating his entire life to a corporation that wouldn’t care if he dropped dead tomorrow. The last thing you felt like listening to was a lecture for the next twenty years about missing the event. It ended up being less pain just to suffer through it.  

               “At least the booze is free,” One of your coworkers points out.

               “Remember last year when that guy in senior management drank way too much and threw up on the bar counter? I live for the moments like that at these events,” Another coworker sighs wistfully, “It’s so funny plus gives everyone something to talk about Monday morning.”

               At that moment, someone cuts across the street, heading towards the coffee shop. You recognize the person as Seonghwa, who is technically on the same team as you although he works on the tech side. You say ‘technically’ because you can count the number of times you’ve spoken to him on one hand.

               One of your coworkers leans forward and whispers conspiratorially, “Speaking of things to talk about on Monday morning, guess what I heard about the resident nerd?”

               Confused, you glance over at Seonghwa who is almost at the door to the shop. Today, he wears a white button up shirt with black suspenders, matching slacks and shoes. His glasses are almost comically oversized, black frames that rest on the bridge of his nose that seem too large for his face. The wind is messing up his sandy blonde hair which he keeps trying in vain to smooth down as he walks over.

               “Someone is talking about Seonghwa?” You say doubtfully, “What is there to talk about?”

               Seonghwa is the biggest nerd you’ve ever met and it isn’t just the suspenders and the large glasses that give you that belief. His desk is littered with the sort of items you’ve always associated as nerdy and he’s always reading some gigantic book based off some sci-fi or fantasy thing. He also works in software and coding or something which means you never understand what the hell he is talking about most of the time during work meetings and tune him out.

               “Oh, this is a good one, trust me.”

               Seonghwa notices the group then and gives a small wave. Everyone halfheartedly waves back as he goes inside. You really doubt the rumor is going to be anything interesting. Seonghwa seems relatively harmless and you’ve given him such little thought over the past two years working near him that you doubt anything could suddenly make him interesting.

               But your gossipy coworker looks positively gleeful as she goes, “You remember how there was that big conference everyone in tech had to attend two weeks ago? They all flew out for it?” When you and the others nod, she continues, “Well, apparently Seonghwa hooked up with one of the regional IT managers.”

               You raise one eyebrow. “Okay, and? The most surprising thing about this is that Seonghwa is getting laid.”

               At this, one of the other coworkers speaks up, “Seonghwa is a nerd but he’s good looking. That’s not really surprising.”

               “I can’t tell if he’s good looking cuz his glasses are gigantic,” You fire back, “I didn’t realize there were people sitting here who wanted to fuck Park Seonghwa.”

               Everyone breaks into bickering at this remark until your coworker with the gossip speaks up loudly to silence everyone. “Okay, shut up please. I am not finished!” Once all attention is back on her, which she is clearly enjoying, she drops her voice to a whisper. “Anyway, Seonghwa hooked up with one of the regional managers after that big party they have on the last night of the conference. She said she figured why not because she’s a regional manager on the other side of the country so she didn’t have to worry about awkwardness in the work place –”

               “Can you please get to the point sometime this century?” You interrupt.

               She shoots you a scowl before saying, “She said not only was Seonghwa the best fuck she ever had but apparently he has a gigantic dick.”

               “Bullshit,” You counter immediately, “No way.”

               This creates another round of bickering about if Seonghwa could really be the best sexual encounter of someone’s life. You are steadfastly against the idea.

               “What about the trope about nerdy guys with big dicks?” Your gossipy coworker argues.

               “That’s fanfic shit,” You fire back, “Maybe this manager has just one or two other people she’s slept with so Seonghwa is the best out of a small sample size.”

               “Well, she said he ate pussy like a champ and dicked her down so well she could barely walk right the next day.”

               “Yeah, sure,” You scoff, “I’m not saying she didn’t sleep with him but maybe she’s…jazzing the encounter up to make a good story.”

               It is then that the subject of the gossip exits the coffee shop. Seonghwa gives the group another small wave and this time looks perplexed when everyone bursts into giggles as they return the motion. But he continues back to the office, holding a coffee in one hand. You watch him go, shaking your head.

               “Sorry, I just don’t believe it. A wallflower like that being some dynamo in bed? No fucking way.”

*

               Back at the office, you glance at the clock. An hour until I can get out of here, you think. It wasn’t that you hated your job, it was just that it was super fucking boring most of the time. But the money made it worth it – at least that’s what you told yourself when the alarm went off in the morning and you wanted to hide under the blankets.

               Idly, your eyes scan the room, landing on Seonghwa’s cubicle. Well, she said he ate pussy like a champ and dicked her down so well she could barely walk right the next day. You scoff quietly before pushing away from your desk, wandering over to Seonghwa’s cubicle.

               He is studying something on the computer screen, slightly leaned forward with his back towards you. Your eyes look over the small space. There are some things you recognize – little decorations like small lightsabers – but a lot of things that you have no idea what they are from or what they represent. His cubicle is incredibly tidy, organized with each personal item displayed at such a way that makes it clear he has decorated the space for himself and not to send out a certain image to his coworkers. Cubicles, the original method of creating a carefully curated image to put out into the world before Instagram, you think dryly.

               You hover there, wondering why the hell you came over here in the first place. But before you can leave, Seonghwa must sense someone standing there because he looks over his shoulder. At the sight of you, his eyes widen slightly and he swivels in his chair.

               “Ah, sorry! Were you waiting there long? I didn’t hear you say my name.” He ducks his head apologetically.

               “It’s fine,” You reply curtly, “I was just wondering if you were attending that work party this weekend. I’m trying to get a head count,” The lie comes swiftly and easily without much thought.

               Seonghwa pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. You study him for the first time, trying to see past the glasses, his messy hair and the dorky clothing. Seonghwa has always been slender, and tall, with almost a fragile delicateness to him. You’ve never given him much thought until now.

               “I plan to be there, yeah,” He says and then smiles brightly, “Are you going too?”

               “I am, yeah,” You grumble, “Anyway, thanks.”

               “You’re welcome!”

               You turn around, walking away from his cubicle. No, that didn’t clear up anything at all.

*

               As soon as it hits five, you shut the computer off and grab your bag, anxious to get the hell out of there. Sometimes, the office just felt so…small and suffocating. You wanted to get out immediately. Swinging your bag over your shoulder, you hastily walk towards the elevator. Half of the floor is doing the same with a few people staying late.

               Seonghwa is one of those. As you slow down your walking speed near his cubicle, you look in his direction. Seonghwa is turned to the side, flicking through a folder filled with papers. He looks focused, brow furrowed, as he tries to find something. His work lanyard sways slightly and his tongue is poking out a little from between his lips. He runs his fingers through his hair, paying no mind to how messy it already is.

               There is just no fucking way that rumor is true, you think again, frustrated with yourself for spending so much time mulling it over today.

               By the time you make it to the elevators, you have resolutely told yourself to put it out of your mind.

*

               “Do you want to go grab coffee?”

               “Girl, it’s ten in the morning. Little early for a break, you think?” Your coworker says in mild confusion.

               “Yeah, I guess so,” You mumble, “Didn’t realize it was that early.”

               “Anyway, I gotta finish up this TPS report this morning or Sir Dipshit is gonna have my head,” She pats you gently on the shoulder, “But we can grab coffee later, alright?”

               She walks past you quickly, already lost in thought. You stand there for a few seconds before turning around to head back to your cubicle. Seonghwa is walking across the room, heading towards the giant copier near the window. Today he has a light blue button up on with khaki slacks although the large black glasses still remain. Someone passes by him, saying good morning and Seonghwa looks up, smiling and returning the greeting.

               How can he look that happy here? You wonder, And how are his teeth so perfect looking? That’s something new you’ve noticed – his incredibly white teeth whenever he smiles.

               Before you can ask yourself what the hell you’re doing, you walk towards him. He doesn’t notice you at first, too busy fumbling with the copier that barely works properly on a good day. But when you get close enough, Seonghwa looks up.

               “Oh, good morning,” He says brightly, “How are you?”

               Something about his energy, his welcoming posture and his smile makes you feel exposed in some odd way.

               “I don’t want to be here,” You say automatically without thinking and then grow deeply embarrassed at your confession, “Sorry, I – hm. I shouldn’t have said that. That’s weird, right? I don’t know – I don’t know why I said that.”

               Seonghwa studies your face for moment and then replies, “No, it’s okay. Would you like to go to the break room with me and get a coffee? I forgot to have a cup before I came in.”

               Leaping at the excuse to not sit at your desk, you nod. Seonghwa glances at the copier and shrugs, giving up on making it work. You trail after him, wondering why in the world this rumor has made you seek him out yet again and why you just openly admitted to a relative stranger that you don’t want to be at work right now. I must be so fucking bored, you think.

               Walking a little bit behind Seonghwa, your eyes study the way the fabric of his shirt rests against his skin before looking at how his belt lays against his small waist. You try to imagine him fucking someone into the mattress but your mind comes up blank. The rumor being about this man in particular just doesn’t make sense.

               In the small break room, which is empty due to the time, Seonghwa begins to brew a pot of coffee, chattering the entire time. “I stayed here too late last night and I’m having a hard time getting going this morning. But I am hoping to finish this project before the weekend so I can move on from it. I feel like I’ve already spent too much time on it and I’m going to fall behind.”

               You sit down at the tiny break room table, making a small noise to indicate you’re listening.

               “I won’t have time to work on it this weekend because I had to move my plans around for that work party. Originally, I was gonna have my DnD session –”

               Confused, you speak up, “Your what session? What’s a….Do Not Disturb session?”

               This brings Seonghwa up short and he turns around, peering at you through his glasses. “No, my…Dungeons and Dragons session. You know?”

               You don’t know. You think you may have vaguely heard the name in the past because you have a mental image of people hunched over a table looking at a board game. It must show on your face because Seonghwa quickly keeps going.

               “But now it got moved to Saturday afternoon so I can make it on time which meant everyone else had to rearrange their schedules. Boy, I still haven’t heard the end of it.” He pours two cups of coffee, glancing over his shoulder, “Do you want cream and sugar?”

               You tell him your preference and he continues, “But the boss made it clear he’s gonna be pissed if we don’t go so I kinda feel like my hands are tied.” Seonghwa stirs your coffee and brings it over, resting it gently on the table before turning back around to make his. “I don’t really like work parties. I am not really a party person.”

               “You don’t say,” You retort dryly, unable to imagine Seonghwa at a club at all.

               He finishes with his coffee, sitting down across from you. This is the closest you’ve ever been to him. He smells like clean laundry. There isn’t a single wrinkle in his shirt. Everything about Seonghwa is a mixture of nerdy and professional.

               “Sorry, am I talking too much? I get told I’m a chatterbox.”

               “You’re fine. I don’t have anything interesting to say anyway, honestly. I just…didn’t feel like working this morning, I guess.” You look down at the cup of coffee, wondering why you feel increasingly uneasy at your job as of late.

               Seonghwa falls silent for a moment and when you look back up at him, he averts his gaze quickly, clearing his throat. “It’s the routine. Gets to all of us. That’s why our free time is so valuable. You have to make it worth something to remember life is more than just…this.” He gestures to the surroundings. “You know, this is the most I’ve talked to you, I think. I know our jobs are pretty different so we don’t overlap a lot though.”

               You hunch your shoulders forward, blowing on the coffee. Some part of you just wants to ask him – hey, I heard a rumor you’re a great fuck and I don’t understand how a thing could be possible. But that would be out of line so you keep it to yourself. You doubt Seonghwa is even aware such a rumor is going around about him.

               Seonghwa’s smart watch beeps then and he looks at it before mumbling a curse under his breath. “Sorry, I forgot I have a call I need to be on in five minutes,” He stands, “But I’ll see you around?”

               You are staring at the way that his long, slender fingers are curled around the disposable coffee cup. Were his fingers always that…dainty?

               Seonghwa says your name and it snaps you out of your staring, looking up at him. “Right, yes. I’ll see you around. Thank you for the coffee.”

               “It’s no problem,” He gives you a small wave, leaving you alone in the room with your thoughts.

*

               If there is one thing you’ve been increasingly disliking lately, it’s your job. The second thing? Staying late for the job. It is ten minutes past five and the anger you feel sitting at your desk while listening to Sir Dipshit is enough to make you shriek.

               You aren’t even sure what he is talking about. It began as a lecture about some e-mail you missed this morning and has now turned into a diatribe about his own day and how busy he is.

               You are trying to pinpoint when your job started feeling like a weight around your neck. You make good money. You work for a major corporation that offers job security. You have your own place. Everything is neatly lined up. But blurting out to Seonghwa, of all people, that you didn’t want to be here this morning has made you start to really think. And you aren’t sure that you are going to like the answer.

               As if conjured up by thinking about Seonghwa, he pops out of his cubicle with his bag, getting ready to leave for the day. As he brings his bag strap up around his shoulder, his shirt tightens for a split second against his chest. You blink, wonder if you just hallucinated how the fabric pulled against hard muscles. Seonghwa looked like he could be shoved in a body of water and his wet clothes could take him down. Thinking there was some hot body underneath all those clothes is just you creating things out of boredom.

               His eyes land on you and he gives you a small smile. Sir Dipshit is oblivious, still going on. You’ve made making sounds of interest while not hearing a single word an art form at this point. To your surprise, Seonghwa walks over to you, nodding his head over to Sir Dipshit.

               “Hey, I’m really sorry to interrupt but its ten minutes past five and I need to discuss something with her on the way out today,” He makes an apologetic face, “Sorry boss, I hope that’s alright.”

               Sir Dipshit looks mildly startled as if being woken up out of a deep sleep. For fucks sake, even his brain goes on auto pilot with boring everyone to death. You aren’t about to turn away a rescue and quickly get out of your chair, grabbing your bag swiftly.

               “Oh yeah, that’s right. That thing –”

               “Right, that thing,” Seonghwa says, nodding vigorously.

               “The thing with that call tomorrow! Yeah, let’s talk about that on the way out. Have a good night, sir,” You shoot this at your boss before turning around to walk out as quickly as possible to Seonghwa.

               “Alright, uh, good talk!” Sir Dipshit calls out after you, “See you tomorrow at the party!”

               Your back is to your boss as you rapidly press the elevator button. The doors glide open and you hurry inside as Seonghwa follows who immediately presses the button to shut the doors on the slim chance the boss wants to follow. He waves jovially until the doors shut.

               “Thanks,” You say, “Was it that obvious I was trapped?”

               “I just know how long he can talk for.”

               “Nice touch there with the ‘ten mins after five’ thing.”

               “Yeah, figured I would slide that in there and remind him the work day was technically over although honestly, I don’t think it stuck.”

               “Probably not but I still appreciate it. Can’t stand how much Sir Dipshit talks.”

               Seonghwa laughs at this, “‘Sir Dipshit’?”

               “Oh, you haven’t heard that one? Yeah, it’s just what we call him.”

               “I’ll have to keep it in mind.”

               Seonghwa smiles at you, the sort of smile that feels as though you are standing directly underneath the summer sun as it warms your skin. The elevator doors open and the two of you walk across the main entrance hall of the building which still has a few people buzzing around.

               “You park in employee parking?” You ask him, “What spot are you?”

               “Oh, my place is close enough that I bike to work,” Seonghwa replies as he slides his bag straps onto his shoulder so it is now a backpack, his thumbs slipping underneath the straps as he holds onto them.

               The sight of him in such a pose makes you think of those movies in which the nerds always walk like that. The only thing he’s missing is some tape around the middle part of his glasses. It strikes you once more how Seonghwa is just so not your type. Maybe the regional manager in Wherever the Hell city went for nerds like him but not you. No wonder she thought fucking him was the best sex of her life – Seonghwa is a walking nerd stereotype.

               “Oh,” You say, mostly because the idea of biking to work seems so foreign of a concept, “I have to drive like twenty minutes or so to my place. You don’t have a car?”

               “I do! It’s just…a gigantic piece of shit so I try not to drive it too much. Trust me, my bike is safer most times,” He replies, holding the door open for you.

               “Thanks,” You say, stepping out into the evening air.

               The sun is dipping behind the city skyline which makes you feel wistful. It seems like such a shame to spend all day inside.

               “Well, I should head out now. I wanna pick up this new Lego kit that got released today. It’s of an Imperial Star Destroyer and I placed a preorder on it months ago.”

               “Legos? Like those…building kits? With the blocks?”

               “Yup,” He says cheerfully, “I love building Lego kits. It’s relaxing and keeps my hands busy.”

               Reflexively, you glance at his hands wrapped around the straps of his bag. You swallow hard, feeling weird for some reason.

               “You uh…like keeping your hands busy?” You say and immediately regret saying something that could be perceived as flirting.

               But Seonghwa seems clueless to any potential interpretation and just nods. “Yeah, I also like painting those miniatures for DnD, you know?”

               You absolutely don’t so you just give a non-committal nod. You picture him painting a tiny teapot or something, a look of avid concentration on his face as he worked, the tip of his tongue poking out as his long fingers hold onto a small brush.

               “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow night,” He says, nodding his head at you, “Have a good night.”

               “Yeah, you too.”

               Seonghwa turns around, walking confidently down the sidewalk to the other side of the building where his bike must be waiting. You watch him as he goes, taking note of how his legs take long strides and people subtly move out of his way. Once he is gone out of view, you slowly make your way to your car, unlocking it and sliding into the driver seat. You stare at nothing in particular, wondering why you feel the way you do. It’s a mixture of dread at the work event tomorrow, anger that your little time away from the office is spent with people from the office, and something else that you cannot pinpoint.

               It’s relaxing and keeps my hands busy.

               “You’re really losing it,” You say aloud to yourself and start the car.

*

               The rain smears the lights of the bar, distorting the building into a dark, grey smudge. You have delayed going inside for ten minutes now, struggling to motivate yourself into yet another ‘team event’. A few years ago, you didn’t mind these things. They were a bit dull but still manageable. But now, you can’t ignore the pit of dread in your stomach at spending more time around people you already spend too much time around.

               With a small intake of breath, you get out of the car, scurrying quickly to the overhang before you can get too wet. Then, as if preparing yourself for battle, you exhale slowly and open the door.

               You’ve arrived an hour late, something that you know Sir Dipshit will take note of, but it proved an impossible feat to get there on time given your mood. Your band of coworkers notice you immediately, waving you over.

               Your eyes scan the crowd as you walk over, greeting them. It is too early in the night for anyone to be drunk yet and so the air is stiff, slightly formal, with top 40 pop radio playing a little too loudly.

               “Fuck, you’re so late,” One of your coworkers says, “We were just wondering if you were gonna blow it off.”

               “And I said you wouldn’t because Sir Dipshit would never let you live it down. And also that if you didn’t at least tell us you weren’t coming, we would be pissed.”

               “Right,” You reply, not listening very much at all.

               “Hello?” Your gossipy coworker waves her hand in front of your face, “Who are you looking for?”

               “What?” Startled, you look around at the table, “I wasn’t looking for anyone. Just was seeing who was here.”

               “No one interesting, if that is what you’re hoping,” chimes in one of your coworkers.

               “Although,” Your gossipy coworker leans forward, lowering her voice, “Seonghwa is here tonight and I’m bored enough to want to see if the rumors about him are true.”

               “He’s here?”

               Your coworker motions in his direction with her drink. You follow to see Seonghwa at the bar alone, nursing a water. No one is talking to him but he doesn’t seem to mind much. He’s idly bobbing his head to the music while checking something on his phone.

               Tonight, he’s wearing…are those yellow suspenders? You groan inwardly. His shirt is also a very pale yellow with small blue buttons. His pants are a soft grey, a belt looping around his waist with his shirt tucked in. As usual, his hair is a bit of a mess. He looks like a total dork, you think dismally.

               “Looking tragic as usual,” One of your coworkers remarks with a giggle, “Please tell me you’re not actually going to try to have sex with him.”

               Your gossipy coworker shrugs. “I mean, that rumor is pretty alluring. Maybe his nerd act is just a front and there’s something nasty lurking underneath.”

               Your brain flashes back to him making you coffee in the break room, not minding it was ten in the morning or the fact you had blurted out that you didn’t want to be there. You suddenly are bored of the conversation and bored of talking about Seonghwa as if he is unauthentic.

               “I’m gonna go get a drink,” You murmur, leaving the table and all their discussions of Seonghwa and what he is like in bed behind.

               To your chagrin, Sir Dipshit sees you and waves you over. In no mood to talk to him, you wave back, pretending that you don’t understand he is trying to beckon you. At the bar counter, you order something, mentally calculating how much time you can spend here before leaving and not hearing any complaints from either your coworkers or boss.

               As you wait for the drink, you idly glance down the bar. Seonghwa is all the way at the other side. Someone is talking to him although you don’t recognize who. He seems engaged in an easy conversation, his shoulders relaxed. He shakes his hair out of his eyes and leans back against the bar counter. The shirt tightens against his chest and upper arms –

               Okay, you’re not hallucinating. Seonghwa definitely is in shape judging by the muscles pressing against the fabric. You swallow hard, your eyes trailing down his stomach to his waist.  

               She said not only was Seonghwa the best fuck she ever had but apparently he has a gigantic dick.

               “Ma’am?”

               Snapped out of your thoughts, you turn your attention to the bartender who has clearly tried to get your attention multiple times. Mumbling an apology, you take the drink. Your cheeks feel a little warm so you take a swig, liking the way it burns on the way down.

               You are looking for your gossipy coworker, wondering if she was really going to try to sleep with Seonghwa. For some reason, the idea of having to listen to her talk about it makes you wanna scream and you aren’t even sure why. But the growing crowd has swallowed her up. Why do I give a shit if she has sex with Seonghwa? I barely thought about the guy until that rumor anyway.

               “Hey.”

               The voice startles you, lowering your gaze directly in front of you. Seonghwa stands there. Up this close, the lights of the bar lay across his skin as if cozying up to him. He still is holding onto his water, his long fingers circled around the cup casually. You swallow, looking away from his hands.

               “Oh, hey, Seonghwa,” You try to think of something to ask that isn’t tied to the rumor about him and his big dick, “How was your…uh what was it again?”

               “DnD?”

               “Yeah, that.”

               “Well, the group was still upset we had to shift the time back and the session was cut to six hours.”

               “Six…hours?”

               “Yeah, we usually aim for…maybe eight or more, depending. Enough to make good progress in the campaign.”

               You have absolutely no idea what the hell he is talking about so you just nod.

               “Hongjoong, oh sorry, that’s my best friend, well, we were supposed to do a dungeon today and he was upset cuz we didn’t finish it like we hoped cuz San’s bard got cursed so that sorta derailed everything.”

               “The bard got cursed,” You deadpan.

               “Yeah, Yeosang didn’t roll high enough so we got sidelined by dealing with that. But I mean, that is just part of the campaign right? It’s Jongho’s first time being dungeon master and he’s spent weeks putting this whole thing together. We weren’t sure how it was going to go because typically Hongjoong is the dungeon master but Jongho really wanted to try it.”

               You have understood exactly two or three words the entire time Seonghwa is speaking but you are actually kinda relieved to be talking about something that has nothing to do with work. Taking another swig of your drink, you think of a question so Seonghwa will keep going.

               “Do you do this every week?”

               “Oh no, it would be too hard to try to have everyone’s schedule sync up weekly. There’s eight of us, after all. So sometimes a couple times a month – that’s what we shoot for.”

               “Oh there you are,” Your coworker interrupts, slinking up with their empty glass, casting a glance over at Seonghwa before looking at you knowingly.

               Their expression makes you feel defensive although you can’t pinpoint why. Flustered, you say, “Was just getting a drink.”

               “Hi Seonghwa,” Their smile is slow and lazy across their face, “How are you?”

               If Seonghwa has any idea as to why they are acting odd, he doesn’t show it. He just smiles in that bright way of his, greeting them by name. Your nerves are buzzing underneath your skin and you gulp down the rest of your drink before turning to the bartender, motioning for another one.

               “Wow, making sure to take advantage of the free bar,” Your coworker quips in a tone that you mislike – in fact, you are starting to question your friendship with everyone in this entire building.

               “You know it,” You mumble although your coworker doesn’t hear.

               Seonghwa, however, does, and the look he shoots in your direction makes you feel as if he is rooting around in your brain and seeing every dreadful thought you’ve ever had.

*

               Two hours later, you are drunk.

               It is a mistake and you know it. You’ve never gotten drunk at a work function before. It’s unprofessional, for one, and secondly, drunk people at work parties tend to always make asses out of themselves.

               But wow! It made talking to everyone so much easier. The mundane conversations about work slide through your brain like a lazy river in which you mentally bob in. Your coworkers, who are rehashing the same gossip they have all week – which unfortunately means more discussions about Seonghwa’s sexual prowess in bed – are pleasant hummings in your ear that you steadfastly ignore.

               At some point, you have found a quiet corner that is near the bathrooms and the back exit. Slumped against the wall, you close your eyes as the floor wobbles unsteadily underneath your feet. You’re going to have to either Uber or ask for a ride home from a coworker. Neither sounds enticing but since you can’t drive, it’s your own fault. Surely, two hours is enough time here. Sir Dipshit will be too swept up in the drunken dancing that has started on the dance floor since everyone is now feeling intoxicated enough to embarrassingly do that in front of one another.

               “Fuck, there you are. I’ve spent ten minutes looking for you,” Your gossipy coworker has suddenly appeared, ruining the solace of the spot you’ve found, “I’m bored and heading out. I tried talking to that Seonghwa guy a couple times and it’s like listening to paint dry. No sex is worth that. Are you coming with me? You clearly can’t drive,” You’re staring at your shoes and don’t reply. Your coworker huffs, “It’s really not like you to get plastered at these events. You’ve been acting so weird for months now.”

               “Sorry,” You mumble although some part of your brain is annoyed that she is bringing this up now when she is well aware that you’re not sober.

               “It’s fine, whatever. Just make sure you get an Uber or something, alright? We can get your car after work Monday.”

               You hear the click clack of her heels as she saunters off, leaving you alone again. You’re feeling sleepy. It tugs on your brain like an annoying child. If the world stopped spinning for half a second…well, until then you will stay right here.

               You aren’t sure how much time actually passes but someone’s shoes come into view next to yours as you stare at the floor. Surprised, you raise your head and find yourself looking at Seonghwa. A new song kicks up, with a heavy bass that seems to thrum up along your spine and into your brain.

               “Seonghwa,” You mumble, blinking a few times to make yourself appear less intoxicated.

               It doesn’t seem to work because he goes, “Hey, are you alright?”

               For some reason, lying to him doesn’t enter your mind. “No. Also, I’m drunk.”

               “I sorta gathered that,” But there is nothing mean in his words, it is just merely noting a factual observation.

               Your hazy gaze focuses on Seonghwa. He appears to be perfectly sober. You recall him drinking water earlier. Good idea. You should have done the same. Now, a headache that is thumping in time to the music is beginning to grow louder. Your eyes drop down across the curve of his neck to his shoulders down to his small waist and you swallow, closing your eyes for a moment to banish whatever the hell is going on with you.

               “Excuse me,” Someone says, storming past the two of you to head to the bathroom, colliding into Seonghwa as if he isn’t even there and pushing him towards you.

               But your reaction speed is terrible, slowed by the alcohol and when your hands go to his abdomen to stop him from colliding, it is like an electric current snapping all the way to your thighs. Seonghwa is extremely close but there is no booze scent clinging to his clothes. And to your utter shock, the skin underneath your hands is firm and toned. Fuck, you think dizzily, see, I wasn’t making it up. But it didn’t matter if Seonghwa was fit or not – he just simply is not your type. You barely understand what he’s talking about most of the time.

               He says something then but the music is too loud as is the rushing of blood to your head. His lips move, lips that are way too pretty and plump, by the way, not that you care, and you shrug, unable to hear what he is asking. He looks inquisitive but you’re distracted by how lithe and slender he is. Too pretty! Not your type! You scold yourself.

               “Do you wanna dance?” You blurt out, cutting whatever he is saying off.

               His eyes widen through his thick frames. Your hands are on his waist now and the two of you are almost pressed against one another. His cheeks are slightly flushed with just a hint of colour and when he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobs. He replies but you give a frustrated shake of your head.

               “I can’t hear you!” You shout, probably way too loudly.

               Seonghwa leans forward, centimeters from your body. He is bringing his face towards your neck and your heart skips a beat so intensely that for one drunken second you worry it’s going to pop out of your chest.

               “I don’t really dance,” His voice seems to fill up your entire brain, taking over every sense you have, the cadence of his speech making your head swirl.

               You think about the rumor about him and for the first time, maybe because you are drunk, allow yourself to wonder if it is actually true. There are lots of stereotypes about nerds – and not just that they have big dicks like your coworker said. There is the stereotype of them being virgins, fumbling around with no knowledge as to what to do. You just assumed Seonghwa belonged in that group from the little interactions you’ve had with him.

               But if you were wrong…

               When he pulls away, his face is near yours. He looks shy and when he glances downward, you know he is looking at your hands on his hips. You wonder if he is hard, wonder if you pulled him against you if you’d feel his big hard dick against your thigh. Your eyes flick to his hands, nervously flexing at his sides. Without the sober shield filtering out the thoughts you’ve been trying to steadfastly ignore since the rumor landed in your ears, you think about how fucking long his fingers are and how they’d feel buried in your cunt. For someone who isn’t your type, it sure is difficult not to want him.

               Seonghwa pulls away then, tugging on the collar of his shirt for a couple of seconds. Your hands fall away from his body, his absence like a bucket of cold water being dumped on your head.

               “You’re drunk,” This sentence is loud enough to hear – although is it directed at you or a reminder to him?

               “I heard a rumor about you,” Your words are slurred.

               “About me?” He says incredulously and then goes, “Should I call you an Uber?”

               “Is your shitty little car here? Can you drive me home? I don’t…” It’s so difficult to concentrate in here. “I don’t feel safe being drunk in an Uber. I feel safe with you.”

               The admission would take you by surprise if you weren’t spending a ton of energy in trying to stand upright. You’re so tired and the booze is tugging you downward.

               Seonghwa looks taken aback but he nods. “Yeah, I drove here tonight. I’ll take you home.”

               “Thank you,”

               He glances at the crowded bar and gives a small shake of his head before pointing to the back exit. “Let’s go this way.”

               You slur out some sort of affirmative answer as Seonghwa carefully leads you out into the night air. The fresh air makes your head spin and for a split second, you worry about throwing up. Luckily, you keep it together and Seonghwa takes you safely around the side of the bar towards his car.

               “Wow, what a piece of shit,” You remark at the sight of the rust bucket.

               “‘She may not look like much, kid, but she’s got it where it counts’,” Seonghwa recites as he unlocks the car and opens the passenger door for you.

               Swaying on your feet, you go, “Are you quoting something at me?”

               “It’s from Star Wars. Well, episode four, specifically.”

               “Right, I knew that. I saw that one. I think.” You manage to get into the car without making a complete ass of yourself.

               Seonghwa ducks his head inside to bring your seatbelt across from you, buckling it in securely. Some of his hair falls in front of his face while doing so and you can smell the faint hint of jasmine.

               “You smell good,” You mumble, “What shampoo is that?”

               He chuckles softly, pulling away and closing the door, walking around the car to slide into the driver’s seat. His car is clean even though it’s so old that it has a CD player. It also vibrates a lot as if the engine is trying to escape.

               You rest your head against the back of the seat, so tired that you are going to doze off any second. Synthwave music plays quietly as Seonghwa snaps in his own seatbelt.

               “What’s your address? Hey, don’t fall asleep yet on me.”

               You tilt your head in his direction, opening your eyes. He is looking at you with his fingers curled around the steering wheel. You wonder what it’d be like to sit in his lap. You wonder what noises he makes when he is turned on.

               "I heard a rumor about you,” You say again sleepily.

               “Yeah, you mentioned although I don’t know what anyone has to say about me. What, do they say I LARP or…still use IRC or something?”

               “Dunno what either of those are.”

               In the darkness of the car, the lights from the radio and CD player dance across Seonghwa’s skin. You want to pull on his suspenders when you ride him. Your thighs clench. You can’t recall a time you’ve been this horny recently and it’s over the nerdiest guy to ever work in the office. Something is totally wrong with you, as confirmed by your coworker earlier in the night.

               Seonghwa angles his body towards you, one hand still on the steering wheel. “Then what is it?”

               A very tiny logical part of you is trying to get yourself to shut up. But the much larger drunken part of you is not thinking clearly, is not even thinking ahead a little bit at all so you blurt out, “There’s a rumor going around that you’re really good at sex.”

               Seonghwa’s eyes widen so large that you might as well fall into them. It’s too dark to know if he is blushing but he turns away from you, staring out the front dash of the car.

               Oblivious to whatever he might be feeling, you continue, “And also that you have a big dick.”

               “W-what?!” He exclaims, still unable to look at you.

               “Right? That’s what I said. I said…no way! No offense.”

               He is silent, mulling this over. In fact, you are almost half asleep by the time he replies carefully, “That’s why everyone is talking to me this week. I was wondering why…I just thought…I don’t know what I thought…” He sounds almost dejected and it makes you feel sad. “I mean, including you.”

               Suddenly feeling ashamed, you try to say something but the words come out garbled because your drunken brain doesn’t jive well with the sudden panic that hits you.

               But Seonghwa shakes his head, brushing the word salad to the side. “You’re drunk so we won’t talk about it now.”

               You go quiet as does he. The silence seems to stretch into infinity. You want to apologize but he isn’t wrong. You did start talking to him because of the rumor. Maybe that makes you just as bad as your gossipy coworker debating having sex with him. But then you think once again of the kind way he made you coffee, and the fact he had you exit the bar from the back so everyone wouldn’t see how drunk you are. You weren’t lying when you told him that he made you feel safe. But you’re just too drunk to try to formulate any of that into words.

               Your eyes close, losing the battle against sleep. You are distantly aware of Seonghwa asking for your address again but it’s too late and you drift off.

*

               When your eyes open next, they are looking at an unfamiliar ceiling, your head is throbbing and your mouth is so dry that your tongue is stuck to the roof of it. With a small groan, you sit up slightly, trying to remember what the hell happened and where you are.

               You’re in someone’s bed which would be alarming if you weren’t still completely dressed in your clothes from last night. The only thing missing are your shoes since you spot your large purse next to the closed door. The bed sheets smell clean and you aren’t even under the covers, just laying unceremoniously on the top. There is a dresser on one side of the room that has a familiar looking robot built out of Lego parts resting on the top.

               It’s the sight of Legos that bring a whole slew of memories back to you. The drinking, your coworkers discussing Seonghwa – oh God, Seonghwa. You recall the way he looked, how he felt so close to you, him offering to drive you home and then –

               You groan again, burying your face in your hands. Fuck, I told him about the rumor, my big drunk mouth. He had looked crestfallen, hadn’t he? He must have assumed the random uptick in people talking to him this week had been for a reason but not for that…

               Including you.

               The words he uttered bounce around in your head, the guilt sliding around in your stomach like disgusting jelly. For a split second, you think you’re going to vomit because of the hangover but manage to hold things down. Very carefully, you swing your legs out of bed and stand up, closing your eyes as your head throbs painfully.

               Stopping only briefly to look at a bookshelf in the corner that had the largest and nerdiest assortment of books possible, you open the bedroom door and step out into the living room.

The living room is just a tidy space, clean and comfortable. The window shows the blue sky and the tops of trees, indicating you’re not on the ground floor. There is a stack of books on the glass coffee table. A large PC is near the window with three monitors. Another small table near the front door has a low hanging light over it, littered with paints and miniatures alongside multiple Lego boxes on a smaller shelf.

The couch has a pillow and a blanket on it. Another stab of guilt hits your chest. He had given up his bed for you.

               You hover in the doorway, taking in the fact that the living room is somehow exactly what you expected and not at all.  Slowly, you walk across the space towards the kitchen where you find Seonghwa. He is making coffee and looks up at the sound of you entering.

               “Hey,” You say quietly, “What uh…time is it?”

               “It’s a little past ten. So, not too late. Would you like some coffee?”

               “Would it be alright if I took a shower? I don’t want to impose. It just helps with the hangover.”

               Seonghwa is in an oversized Star Wars long sleeved shirt and sweatpants. His socks have odd looking dice on them that you don’t recognize. His large glasses rest on the bridge of his nose as usual. It’s the first time you’ve seen him wearing something other than business attire.

               “Sure, let me just get you the towels. Uhm, would you like some clothes? I can dig out some older clothes of mine, if you’d like.”

               “Yeah, thanks.”

               A few minutes later, Seonghwa is handing you towels, a large black shirt with a faded design on it (from a video game, he explained) and sweatpants. You rummage around your purse to dig up your emergency Stayed The Night makeup bag. This was the first time you were using it after just sleeping over at a guy’s house and not having sex with him. But you’re glad it’s in there since it has toothpaste, a small toothbrush and some other items you need.

               It’s always a gamble going into any man’s bathroom, and it is with a tentative push of the door that you step inside. However, just like the living room, it is clean and organized. Seonghwa even has actual skincare products by the sink. The shower is clean with high end shampoo, conditioner and body wash (also all in separate bottles!).

               Underneath the hot water, you wash off the night before. You wash off avoiding Sir Dipshit, you wash off the fact you feel disconnected from your coworkers, you even wash off your gossipy coworkers remark about how you’ve been different.

               But you can’t wash off the expression your drunken brain still remembers when you told Seonghwa the rumor. And you can’t wash off the way you felt around him last night when you asked him to dance nor the thoughts you had about him. You haven’t been that turned on around someone in so long. It’s cuz you were drunk, you argue with yourself. Seonghwa just isn’t your type.

               After the shower, you dry off, finish cleaning up and change into Seonghwa’s clothes. The shirt is soft, well worn, baggy on your frame and the sweatpants are a little long. But they smell nice and are comfortable. You stare at yourself in the mirror, running your fingers over the fabric. I need to make things right with him. He’s a nice person and he’s been kind to me and now he thinks I only started talking to him because of the rumor.

               And to make matters worse, that’s the truth.

*

               Seonghwa is sitting on the couch, two cups of coffee perched on the table. He has a book open in his lap, reading quietly. Tentatively, you sit down opposite him, reaching for the coffee while peering at the cover of the book. It’s some Star Wars book. It looks older than you expected, well worn, and there’s a man has blue skin with red eyes on the cover.

               “Thanks for letting me use your shower…and your clothes. And uh…for getting me here safely. And for taking me out the back way so no one saw I was being a messy drunk.”

               Seonghwa rests the book next to his coffee, picking up the cup and taking a small sip. The silence is starting to feel awkward now and you wish he would say something.

               So, you decide just to leap into it. “Listen, about what I said last night. About the ah…. rumor.” Your cheeks feel warm from just mentioning it. You never thought you’d actually be discussing this with him.

               Seonghwa’s hands wrap around the cup as he looks shyly down. His lashes are long, longer than when you spend too much on an overpriced mascara to try to get the same effect.

               “Can you…explain how you heard something like this about me?” Seonghwa asks quietly, his cheeks turning slightly pink.

               You push through how awkward this is going to be and tell him the entire story of how your coworker mentioned it over coffee. By the time you are done, Seonghwa has turned a deep crimson, his coffee long forgotten after being placed back on the table because he is so embarrassed. Silence hangs in between the two of you for a minute or so. You don’t press him to speak, figuring he deserves some time to sort out how he’s feeling about the entire thing.

               “It’s true that I went to the conference and slept with that regional manager. I figured since she lived across the country, it wouldn’t really matter,” He squirms uncomfortably, “I didn’t think she would talk about it and I certainly didn’t think it would spread all over the office. I didn’t know why there was an uptick in people talking to me this week. I didn’t ever dream it could be tied to…that. When it came to us…I guess I thought…uhm maybe you and I were becoming friends.”

               You feel a pang in your chest and move closer to Seonghwa, trying to salvage the conversation. “We are friends,” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you know they’re true. Maybe the two of you are very different but Seonghwa still makes you feel safe and seems to see you in a way that everyone else is missing.

               But he looks doubtful. “But you only started talking to me because…” He glances at you only for a split second. “Were you trying to…I mean…you and I…” He trails off, wringing his hands together.

               You stare at his hands, swallowing. No, you’re not my type. I was curious but there isn’t any attraction there, is what you want to say. The words would be so easy. A quick band-aid over a situation that has gotten out of hand.

               “That explains last night. Before we left,” He mumbles bashfully, “I thought maybe I was reading too much into it but you wanted to dance and…” He can’t finish his sentence again but you don’t need him to; you still clearly can recall how it felt to be that close to him and all the lascivious thoughts that popped into your head. You also can’t deal with the fact Seonghwa was worried he was reading too much into it when you were obviously all over him.

               You feel stuck. To tell him that you hadn’t thought about him in that way last night would be a lie. But to tell him would be admitting aloud to yourself that Seonghwa, the nerdiest guy you’ve ever met, is someone you’re attracted to. You’ve been protesting the entire time, to your coworkers, and to yourself that Seonghwa isn’t your type and you don’t see him that way. But…

               You feel nervous which is strange because you can’t recall the last time you were nervous around someone you found attractive. But Seonghwa, who seems to be as fragile as fine china, is in your hands at this moment. One wrong move and you’re going to drop him and make things even worse.

               “Well…uh…usually, you know, I don’t go for the…nerdy type.” Would he be insulted by that? “I was curious because I couldn’t picture such a thing. Like you…being like that. In bed. With the…you know.” You gesture vaguely, unable to mention his rumored big dick again now that you’re sober.

               “Right, yeah, of course,” He says quickly, too quickly, “I get that. And I know what people are like when drunk. Not thinking clearly.” Seonghwa looks as if he wants to flee which only makes you talk faster.

               “But you were so nice to me. With the coffee. I’ve been…struggling with work lately.” That puts it mildly. “And you were there when I needed someone. And I wasn’t…lying. Last night. When I said that I feel safe with you.”

               He looks a little more comforted by this, enough that he is looking up at you through those long lashes.

               “But I also…You know…uhm…” You trail off, unsure how to word the next part. Seonghwa looks at you curiously. God, it would be so easy to lie and let him believe I was just drunk last night and that was the end of it, you think.

               In fact, any regular person would leap at the lie and use it as a cover. But Seonghwa is still wringing his fucking hands together and you keep watching his fingers and you can’t believe it but you think you’re getting wet again – and this time you can’t blame booze. His entire posture, a mixture of tense and awkward, is strangely endearing. You quickly wonder what he would sound like in bed again and then try to banish the thought.

               You’ve been quiet for so long that Seonghwa gently goes, “You were saying?”

               But you aren’t really sure what you’re saying. Naturally, that means you keep going. “I do…wonder. If…maybe you’d want to…as friends…with benefits. Because like I said you’re not my type but my body seems to be like…reacting to you…ever since I heard the rumor. And I want to know if the rumor has merit.”

               Wow, amazing. Fantastic speech. Not only were most of your sentences unfinished but you basically asked Seonghwa to have sex with you just to see how your body responds like it’s a science experiment.

               Seonghwa is turning red again. His voice is slightly hoarse when he replies with, “Are you – ah. Are you asking to have sex with me? As friends?”

               “Y…yes.”

               Seonghwa’s breathing quickens and he looks away for a moment. You immediately want to crawl in a hole and hide.

               “I’m sorry,” You say hastily, “I don’t know what’s come over me. I tell you we’re friends and then immediately ask you for sex after offending you with some ridiculous rumor.” Your hands grip your knees, bracing yourself to stand up and to get out of here as quickly as possible. “Listen, I’m going to get my stuff and go. I’m just gonna Uber back to my place, don’t worry about it –”

               Seonghwa’s hand suddenly rests gently on top of yours. The touch knocks the breath out of your lungs. You stare at the sight of his long fingers extending over yours, his hand warm against your skin.

               “Okay,” is all he says quietly.

               Hardly daring to look up from the sight of his hand, you lock eyes with him. He is still blushing but looks resolute.

               “Uhm,” You exhale, “Sorry, I’ve never started a sexual encounter like this before.”

               “Me either,” Seonghwa shifts nervously and then says, “How about I just kiss you and if you like it, we can keep going? If you don’t feel anything, then it’s just the rumor clogging your head.”

               “S-sure.”

               Seonghwa carefully raises his other hand up towards your cheek, brushing against your skin with the back of his fingers. You shiver at the small touch, staring at him as he shifts closer to you. Acutely aware of how utterly surreal this is, you can only look at him as he cups your cheek. He grazes your lips with his thumb and your lips reflexively part at the touch. Your entire body feels as if it is tingling.

               You try to tamper down any expectations when Seonghwa leans forward to kiss you. You’re expecting the kiss to be awkward and messy in that unskilled way. You are waiting for him not to know what to do with his tongue and just roll it around in your mouth. Then, you’d tell him thanks but the rumor obviously had taken over your mind and it is better to remain friends without benefits.

               But then Seonghwa’s lips do touch yours as you close your eyes. It is a jolt to all your senses, white noise in your head as he kisses you so gently at first that you could imagine the touch. Your breath catches, heart rate accelerating as the kiss continues. His hand resting on top of yours gives a small squeeze, his other hand trailing to the back of your neck.

               You can feel yourself melting into the kiss, the tension seeping out of your body as Seonghwa’s tongue slips inside your mouth. There is a heat blossoming in your chest as your thighs clench. He trails small circles against your skin on your lower neck, making you shiver. Your tongue is against his now, your hand moving upwards to grip the front of his shirt, crumpling the Star Wars image up in your fist. He makes a small noise that only spurns you on more. You pull on the shirt so that he is closer, sliding into his lap, straddling him on the couch.

               Something drives you forward with reckless abandon, throwing caution to the wind and replacing it with desire. Seonghwa seems to mirror your feelings, his hands moving to your lower back, wiggling underneath the shirt to touch your bare skin. He presses down slightly, pushing you against him.

               You can feel the bulge in his sweatpants now and with a jolt, you think that maybe the rumor about the size is going to be true. Your hands are in his hair, his soft blonde locks curled around your fingers as the kissing continues.

               Your hangover is now a distant thought; making out with Seonghwa seems to be a miracle cure for a headache. Instinctively, you grind your hips against his bulge and he inhales sharply. His hands move to your ass, gripping the tender flesh there in his hands in a silent urge for you to keep going. You rock your hips against him, your pussy soaking wet. So much for just a kiss, you think dryly, marveling at the way your body responds to Seonghwa.

               His phone suddenly rings, jolting you a little by the noise. He glances over at it – it is on the kitchen counter – and gives a small shake of his head.

               “Ignore it,” He mumbles and you don’t mind doing that at all, resuming the kiss easily.

               The phone falls silent. Seonghwa’s breathing is heavy, mingling with your own, and kissing is becoming not enough. You want more and when he begins to kiss down your jawline and your neck, you reach behind you to take one of his hands and bring it forward, guiding him underneath the band of your sweatpants.

               He doesn’t hesitate now that you’ve given silent permission. You’ve been thinking about his hands ever since the rumor made you turn attention towards him and now Seonghwa presses his palm against the front of your underwear as his lips find yours again.

               You don’t think you’ve ever been this wet in your life. When the kiss breaks, you take in the sight of Seonghwa, breathless, his chest rising and falling quickly. His cheeks are tinted pink and his eyes are wide behind his large frames. You think about the times you’ve taken note of him in the past – a couple seconds of walking past him quickly in the hallway, not paying any attention because he came off as such a wallflower or zoning out when he talked in a meeting because you never could understand what he was saying and it made you feel stupid and insecure, and even the couple of times you giggled over someone making a joke at his expense. And now here you are, in his lap, with his hand against your cunt and every nerve in your body screaming for him. Jokes on me.

               Seonghwa pushes your underwear to the side, his fingers probing your folds as he leans forward and kisses you again. The sensation of his fingers touching you is making you dizzy. From this angle, it’s too difficult for his fingers to enter you which is about the only thing in the entire world you want at this moment.

               Muffled because of the kissing, you mumble, “Will you – your fingers –”

               To your surprise, Seonghwa smiles for a second against your lips. You pull away, just enough to see his expression. “What?” You ask.

               “Nothing, I just…I noticed you looking at my hands a lot the past few days.”

               Now it is your turn to feel embarrassed. “Oh, I…” You don’t really know what to say. It’s difficult to think when all you want is him.

               “Here, sit next to me,” He pats the space next to him and you slide off his lap.

               Seonghwa then gets on the floor in front of you, reaching upwards and sliding your sweatpants off your hips, leaving you in just your underwear and his borrowed t-shirt. He brings two fingers to the front of your underwear, pressing down on the fabric. “Well, she said he ate pussy like a champ.” Your coworker’s words bounce around in your head as Seonghwa removes your underwear and pushes your legs open so that you’re spread out in front of him.

               It’s a bit surreal to be in Seonghwa’s apartment on a Sunday morning, sitting on his couch half naked, with him on his knees in front of your pussy. His hands grip your thighs, pushing your legs apart as far as comfortable. You stare at the way his fingers dig into your skin, wanting nothing more than to have them buried in your cunt just to see what it feels like.

               But he leans forward and very carefully, using just the tip of his tongue, he flicks it across your swollen clit. You shudder, gasping but Seonghwa keeps a firm grip on your thighs to keep you spread in front of him. He doesn’t stop, using the tip of his tongue to stimulate your clit. Your hands grip the cushions of the couch, unable to tear your gaze away from the sight of Seonghwa’s tongue brushing against your nub. His eyes are closed and no matter how much your body shakes from the pleasure, his hold on your thighs doesn’t lessen, keeping you in place.

               You are cursing loudly, taken aback by just how good he can make you feel with the tip of his tongue. His pace steadily increases against your clit. Your hips buck but he doesn’t stop, his tongue expertly dancing over your sensitive nub.

               Distantly, you are aware his phone is ringing again. But he doesn’t stop and you aren’t about to bring things to a halt for a fucking phone call. You thought Seonghwa would be messily rolling his tongue around – or even worse, just focusing on your hole and wondering why you couldn’t finish. The rumor saying he could eat pussy seemed as ridiculous as all the other aspects of what your coworker told you.

               Forcing your eyes open, you look down at Seonghwa working your clit. There is something sexy about how he looks, with his eyes closed, using just the tip to make you feel this good, and his hands holding you in place. Even his glasses, usually something you found so dorky before, look good on him now.

               He still hasn’t put his fingers inside you but your climax is rapidly approaching. You want to try to tell him you’re close but speaking is impossible. All that leaves your mouth are garbled noises of pleasure and occasionally you whine out his name. Your knuckles are white from gripping the cushions and your orgasm suddenly begins, hips bucking but Seonghwa holds them down.

               Your head rolls back against the couch as the pleasure overtakes you. Your entire body tingles, skin incredibly warm. Seonghwa slows down as you cum until your hips lower back down. Only then he pulls away. Breathless, you can’t even look down at him because your body feels heavy from how intense the orgasm was.

               Seonghwa releases his hold on your thighs but quietly goes, “Leave your legs spread, I want to see your pussy.”

               It’s the first time something vulgar has left his mouth this entire time and it turns you on. Having talked to Seonghwa only a couple of times very quickly prior to this week, you never thought you’d hear such a sentence from him especially directed at you.

               Finally, he brings his fingers to your cunt, spreading your lips open slightly. “Can I ask you something?”

               You think you reply but it comes out a bit garbled.

               But Seonghwa takes it as an affirmative and goes, “Last night, when you asked me to dance…what were you thinking about?” To your amazement, he actually looks shy after asking even though he just made you cum thirty seconds ago.

               This meant you had to form words now, an arduous task given the circumstances. “I was wondering if you were in shape because sometimes the way your work clothes looked on you…and I was thinking about if the rumors about you were true. And…” You swallow, “I was thinking about your fingers and how long they were.”

               As soon as the words leave your mouth, Seonghwa slides a finger in your hole, making you gasp in both relief and surprise. He looks a bit satisfied and you realize he must have known you were thinking about his fingers and just wanted to hear you admit it.

               “What do you think?” He murmurs, “Does it feel long?”

               His finger is completely buried in your cunt and he wiggles it slightly, making you clamp down around it instinctively. Seonghwa’s eyes move upwards to look at you, taking in the sight of you whimpering and clearly wanting more.

               He inserts another finger while going, “Does it feel how you thought it would?” Slowly, he moves his two fingers in your cunt, and you can hear how soaking wet your hole is.

               You watch, entranced at the sight of Seonghwa’s long and slender fingers pumping in your cunt. Each time he pulls them out, you can see your juices smeared across his skin before he pushes them back inside. He wiggles them each time they are buried in your hole and it feels so good that you don’t think you can talk. You try to move your hips in time with his fingers but his other hand keeps your hips down against the couch.

               The phone is ringing again. You’d wish it would shut up already. Seonghwa seems too dazed to even notice, staring at your cunt swallowing his fingers.

               “Is that the sort of thing you were thinking about? How my long fingers would feel in your tight cunt?” He asks softly, “You’re really tight. I don’t know how I’m going to fit inside you.”

               The confession catches your breath because he is teasing you now, skirting around the rumor about his big dick without showing you.

               “You can barely take my fingers. You think you can take another one?”

               “Yes,” You breathe out, “I can. I can take your cock too.”

               “We’ll see about that, baby,” He murmurs and the affectionate use of ‘baby’ makes you shiver.

               Another finger dips into your hole as Seonghwa finger fucks you. His pace has steadily increased but with three fingers, you can feel your hole jammed full of him. He’s right, you are tight and you don’t know how you’d take his apparent big cock but the universe knows you’d be trying.

               Seonghwa leans forward and wraps his lips around your clit while finger banging your hole as much as your cunt allows. You groan, the pleasure spiking, your hand grabbing onto his blonde hair as he finally releases his hold on your hips. This allows you to grind your pussy against his fingers as he sucks hard on your clit. To your amazement, you know that you’re going to cum again already. He doesn’t let up on your clit or your hole, his fingers making obscene noises from how wet you are. When he wiggles them inside you, it’s enough to make your brain hazy with pleasure.

               You curse as your second climax begins. You can feel yourself gushing around his fingers, your juices smearing all over his fingers down to his palm. You’re grinding against his face, probably making a mess on his glasses too for all you know but cannot stop yourself. You’re moaning and whimpering, your head pressing against the back of the couch as the pleasure becomes overwhelming.

               Collapsing against the couch when the orgasm begins to fade, you can hardly catch your breath. Your entire body tingles. You cannot recall the last time you had someone make you cum that close together. You didn’t even know it was possible.

               Opening your eyes, you look downwards at Seonghwa. He has pulled his fingers out of your hole and put them in his mouth, tasting you. His glasses are slightly askew and messy in the most pornographic way. His tongue swirls around his fingers. The entire image is immediately burned into your brain.

               The phone rings again. Annoyed, you glare at it on the counter. “Should you answer that?” Not that you don’t want to hop on his dick immediately but the mere fact they won’t stop calling makes you worry something bad has happened and you’re keeping Seonghwa from it for your own selfish reasons.

               “I should although admittedly I don’t want to,” He replies, standing up.

               The bulge in his pants is evident and large. You hope the phone call won’t take long so you can jump on him. It’s amazing how he’s made you cum twice already but you still want more.

               He looks at his phone and frowns. “It’s work,” He directs this at you before answering, “Hello?” A long pause as someone rambles on the other end. Then, “No one else can help you with this?” More silence, more rambling from the other end. “No, I’m just…I’m in the middle of something, that’s all,” He mumbles, shooting you a glance, “Yeah, I get it. No, we don’t want that to happen. Yeah, give me an hour, alright?”

               Your stomach falls as Seonghwa ends the call and looks chagrined. “I’m sorry. I gotta go into the office. The new guy fucked up the software update push and it’s gotta go out today before everyone else comes back tomorrow.”

               You distantly remember a meeting two weeks ago about a software update but since it had more to do with Seonghwa’s side than yours, you spaced out. That had been happening a lot lately.

               Still, you suddenly feel shy and embarrassed, quickly snatching up your underwear off the floor. “Right, yeah, I get it.”

               “Let me drive you home on my way in,” He says hurriedly, scampering back over as you slip your underwear back on.

               You really don’t want to Uber after being half fucked, in another man’s clothes, slightly hungover so you accept. Seonghwa looks relieved; he is jittery like he expects you to be mad over the fact he has to go to work. He sits down next to you, looks as if he is going to reach for your hand and then has second thoughts.

               “I’m sorry again,” He says.

               You want to laugh. Seonghwa, the least likely guy on the planet, just made you cum twice and he’s apologizing? You aren’t even sure for what. You reach up for his glasses, gently removing them from his face. He looks confused.

               “You might wanna clean these before you go in,” You say quietly and he realizes the state they are.

               He blushes, nodding. “Y-yeah, good idea. Thanks.” He takes the glasses back, scurrying off to get cleaned up for work.

               You sit there, torn between confusion over where exactly this left you and Seonghwa, how a guy like him could make you feel so good, and what happens next.

               Well, you think, at least I know one part of the rumor is definitely true. He really can eat pussy like a champ.

PART TWO HERE.

🌻 Tags: @thewonderofkpop - @obligatoryidolblog - @yunhofingers - @foggyinternetchaos - @multiland - @whatudowhennooneseesyou - @jess-1404 - @just-here-to-read-01 - @likexaxdaydream - @senpai-of-doom - @lilhwahwa - @btsreader12 - @talkbykhalid - @pyeonghongrie-main - @inneratinyrebel - @8tinytings - @cherrypandora - @almondmilkeu - @kitten4sannie - @hwalysm - @revehosh - @mulletjoonsupremacy - @byungaji - @erensluut - @singularity777 - @hwa-whiskers - @luxvatz - @seonghwasstar - @eyesonlyformingi - @rxnexxi - @rosealie05 - @xirenex - a couple of you couldn’t be tagged so i’ll message you separately, sorry.

[melzula]

The Necklace

pairing: Zuko x Princess!reader

notes: apologies for how long this took me! this piece is a request and though it is part of the fire lilies series i think it can also be read as a stand alone

summary: Zuko asks Sokka for help with an important task

~ part of the fire lilies series ~

It was a busy day in the Southern Water Tribe as preparations for the upcoming Lunar Festival began. In two days your people would carry out the longstanding tradition of honoring the moon spirit for blessing the tribes with water bending, and as Chief you had much to do to ensure everything went smoothly.

Nine years have passed since the war ended, and in that time the South has completed its era of reconstruction and is now a strong and unified nation able to hold its own alongside the other countries. Resources are plentiful, commerce is high, the number of water benders in the tribe grows each year, and your people are happy.

As you had set out to do, you’d created the harbor to allow those from other nations to visit your home and learn about your culture. This not only led to a boom in your economy, but it also brought great pride to the South as you shared your culture and gifts with those curious to learn about your history. Your relationship with the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom strengthened as a result, and you were happy to see everyone getting along. The next step to maintaining progress was establishing embassies in the other nations, and construction in the Fire Nation was already underway. You’d accomplished many things so far in your time as Chief, but you know most of it wouldn’t have been possible without the help of your friends.

Hakoda and Malina had been a great help in modernizing the tribe, and once their work was done Malina found herself returning to the North after an amicable split from the advisor. On the other hand, Hakoda had recently stepped down from his position, deciding it was time to retire and allow the next generation the chance to lead the South into the future. And so that led you to where you are now, discussing the perfect layout for the festival grounds with your newly appointed advisor.

“I think the game booths would look best set up along the perimeter of the courtyard to leave room for the merchant stands in the center,” Sokka notes thoughtfully as you look over his roughly drawn map of the proposed layout. “If everything looks good to you we can begin setting up immediately to have it ready in time for the first day of the festival.”

“I think it looks great, Sokka! You know, you’re a natural at this whole advisor thing,” you compliment with a teasing nudge to his side. Having Sokka step in for his father was the obvious choice when it came time to pick a new advisor. The water tribe boy had always been a shoulder for you to lean on and a person you could go to for guidance, and you can’t even count how many times he’s kept you out of harms way. No one was more qualified for the job than him, and it filled you with joy to be running the tribe alongside one of your closest friends.

“I really am, aren’t I?” He agrees with a proud grin, prompting you to regret inflating his ego so much. “Hey, is Zuko still coming by for the festival?”

“He is! I just received a letter from him yesterday promising his arrival,” you sigh wistfully as your eyes turn towards the portrait of the Fire Lord on your desk. “We haven’t had much time to see each other lately, so I’m excited to finally spend time with him.”

“You guys are pretty good at this whole long distance thing,” he notes thoughtfully, “you make it seem so easy.”

“I think it helps that we’re both always kept so busy running our own nations, but it doesn’t make me miss him any less. Now that things have calmed down I just hope we’ll be able to sneak away and visit each other more often.”

“I’ll do everything in my power to make it happen,” Sokka vows earnestly while placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “As advisor, it’s my job to make your job easier, and that’s just what I’m going to do.”

“Thanks, Sokka,” you reply with a careful smile before returning your attention to the plans laid out before you. “Now, is there any way we can make space for a seal jerky stand?”

~~~

Zuko’s stomach was in knots.

The harbor was fast approaching as his ship began to close the distance between the sea and the shore, and in just a short amount time he’d be back in the South. With time he’d begun to feel like less of an outsider to the tribe’s people, they’d come to accept him as an ally rather than a threat after helping their Chief time and again, and so how his arrival would be perceived wasn’t on his list of worries. This trip to the Water Tribe would be different, maybe even life changing if all went according to plan, but there was no way to know for sure until he got there.

Sokka is waiting at the edge of the harbor when Zuko finally disembarks from the ship and sets foot on the wooden docks. The Fire Lord isn’t able to say anything before his friend immediately tackles his figure in a strong bear hug.

“Zuko, it’s so good to see you, buddy!” He exclaims before pulling away to get a good look at his friend. “Your hair got longer!”

“So did yours,” Zuko replies with a light chuckle before surveying his gaze along the docks.

As if reading his mind, Sokka explains, “Y/n’s teaching a healing class right now so she sent me in her place. I’ll be taking you back to the palace so you can settle in and get ready for dinner with her and her mother.”

“I see,” the fire bender notes quietly, almost relieved by the fact that you’ll be preoccupied for the next hour or so. It makes his current task much easier.

Noticing the preoccupied look on his friend’s face as the two begin to venture towards the palace, the water tribe boy places a comforting hand on Zuko’s shoulder and asks, “Everything okay? You have a weird look on your face and you don’t seem as excited as you should be to see y/n later.”

“I am excited, I just also happen to be nervous,” he corrects before letting out an anxious sigh. His features turning serious, Zuko stops in his tracks and shifts to face Sokka head on. "I have a favor to ask you, an important one, but before that I need to tell you something, and you have to keep it to yourself.”

"Of course, Zuko, anything."

“Now that there is peace among nations and things are finally falling into place, I think it’s time I propose to y/n,” the Fire Lord declares with a bashful smile and a blush spreading across his face. “I came on this trip not only to enjoy the festival but to also ask her mother for her blessing.”

Shock is written all over Sokka’s face as his mouth hangs open in surprise at his friend’s confession. However, his dumbfounded look is soon replaced with one of joy as he lifts Zuko up off the ground in a tight hug.

“I can’t believe it! My best friends are going to get married! This is great news!” He exclaims much to Zuko’s dismay. With a scowl, the fire bender worms his way out of the hug and gives the water tribe boy a pointed look.

“Keep your voice down!” He scolds while looking around frantically to make sure no one has overheard them. “I don’t want her to find out and ruin the surprise. I also don’t exactly know how our people are going to react to this marriage, so I’d like to keep it private for now.”

“Sorry, you’re right. My lips are sealed,” Sokka solemnly swears, but his giddy grin remains glued to his face. “Can I at least see the ring?”

“That’s the thing,” he says whilst awkwardly grasping the back of his neck. Almost sheepish, Zuko admits, “there is no ring. I want to do it the right way by making her a betrothal necklace, but I have no idea where to start. Can you help me?”

“You’re asking me for help?” Sokka retorts emotionally, his eyes almost immediately welling with tears. Quick to brush them away, he sniffles and rests a firm hand on the Fire Lord’s shoulder. “Buddy, I am going to help you make the greatest betrothal necklace in the history of the Southern Water Tribe.”

“Thank you, Sokka. I knew I could count on you,” he affirms with a careful smile, and though one of his tasks has been completed, Zuko knows he still has a lot of work cut out for him before this trip is over.

Spirits help him.

~~~

You let out a quiet hum as you clean up after the day’s healing class. A grunt leaves your lips as you hoist one of the practice mannequins over your shoulder and work to set it into the closet. Master Pakku retired as your co-instructor a few years back to enjoy married life with Kana, and so it was now on you to prepare, run, and organize class. You managed fairly well on your own, but it was times like these where you missed having someone to help- the mannequins did start to get heavy after a while.

You’re too busy trying to shove the last practice doll into the closet to notice someone has joined you, so you can’t help but jump in alarm when a voice asks, “Need a hand?”

You turn with a start, but your fear immediately morphs into pure joy when you see your boyfriend standing before you. He opens his arms to you with a smile and you immediately throw yourself into his embrace, hugging him so tightly that the wind is nearly knocked out of him.

“Zuko, you’re here!” You exclaim with glee before reaching up to pepper his face with kisses. “I’m so happy to see you, I missed you so much!”

“I missed you too, Princess,” he chuckles, his cheeks growing red as a result of your assault. “I know we were supposed to meet for dinner, but I couldn’t wait to see you. Sokka told me you’d be here.”

“I’m glad you came,” you admit with a smile before allowing Zuko to put away the last mannequin for you. With the practice room finally tidy and organized, you take Zuko’s hand and begin your trek towards the palace.

“How is festival planning going?”

“It’s going wonderfully! The crew I hired will begin set up tomorrow so that the merchants can begin preparing their stands. I’m aiming to make it our best lunar festival yet!”

“With you in charge, I’m sure it’ll be perfect,” Zuko compliments. There are guards waiting at the doors when you arrive, and after giving you both a curt nod you’re allowed passage into the palace. The familiar icy architecture greets him with a chill, but the Fire Lord gladly welcomes the feeling.

Your mother waits at the end of the hallway for you both with a smile and immediately envelopes Zuko in a hug when you reach her.

“Zuko, it’s so nice to see you again! I’m thrilled you’re joining us for dinner.”

“Thank you, Kira. It’s an honor to be your dinner guest,” he replies with a careful smile.

“I’m going to get freshened up before we eat, but you two go ahead and get seated without me,” you inform both of them before departing to your room. You turn down the hall and disappear into your bedroom, effectively leaving Zuko alone with your mother.

“Come, the dining room is this way,” your mother instructs him as she guides the boy to his seat. A wave of nerves suddenly washes over Zuko as he realizes the perfect opportunity to speak to your mother about his proposal is now before him. With you gone, it’s his only chance to have a moment alone with the woman. This conversation could make or break your relationship, and this thought weighs heavily as he seats himself across from her.

“Are you feeling alright, Zuko? You look flushed,” she points out with a concerned look. Harshly swallowing down his nerves, the fire bender decides it’s now or never.

“I’m fine, but… there is actually something I’d like to speak with you about.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” the woman assures him with a comforting smile and her undivided attention. “What is it that’s on your mind?”

“Well,” he begins, anxiously grasping at the back of his neck, “first I want to start by saying I never really apologized for taking away your only daughter all those years ago, but I’d like to do so now. It was a rash decision based upon the fear of never getting to see her again, and I thought running away together was the only option. However, I never once stopped to think about how that would affect you and your people. I was separated from my own mother once, and so I can only imagine the pain you must have felt worrying about her whereabouts and if she was happy. And truthfully, she wasn’t. But I’ve spent every day since trying to make it up to her.”

The room is silent but the air is void of any tension. Though an array of emotions wash across your mother’s face at Zuko’s confession, there is no hint of malice or resentment. Rather, her eyes are understanding and her lips hold an unwaveringly careful smile as she takes in his words and his disquieted nature.

“I won’t sugarcoat things and say that it wasn’t hard having my only child leave my home,” she notes thoughtfully much to his dismay. Sensing his apprehension, she is quick to continue on, “but I know that in the grand scheme of things it was for the best. Y/n wouldn’t be the water bender or Chief she is today if she had never left the South. I hold no grudges and I certainly don’t blame you for the choices she made.”

“I appreciate your kindness and openness,” he says with a respectful bow of his head, “it makes this next part less terrifying.”

Intrigued by his wording, your mother raises a brow and asks, “What will be less terrifying?”

Taking in a deep breath, Zuko meets your mother’s gaze with eyes full of sincerity and passion. It really is now or never.

“I came on this trip not only for the lunar festival but also with the intention of crafting a betrothal necklace for y/n. I know there is no future for me without her in it, and I want to spend the rest of my life making her happy. I don’t know for certain the implications a marriage between us has on the future of our nations, but I do know that I will do whatever I must to be with her. However, before I propose, I wanted to get your blessing. I’d like to do things the right way this time, and I want you to know my intentions.”

Kira is silent for a long time, her face full of shock but still unreadable to a tense Zuko who waits with bated breath for a response. For a moment he fears that perhaps he’s misspoke, that he is unworthy of asking such a request and has offended the matriarch, but then her shocked expression morphs into one of joy, and Zuko immediately feels the tension in his shoulders dissipate at the sight of her smile.

“I knew this day would one day come, and I can’t tell you how I thrilled I am to know you’d like to marry my daughter,” she exclaims gleefully, her eyes shiny with tears that she works hard to keep at bay. “You have proven yourself time and time again to be a good man, Zuko, and I know you will make a wonderful husband for my y/n. You absolutely have my blessing.”

“Thank you, Kira,” he exhales gratefully as he rises from his seat and meets the woman across the table with a tight hug. A tremendous weight has now been lifted off of his shoulders, and he is one step closer to marrying the love of his life. “I promise to love and honor y/n for as long as I live.”

“I have no doubt in my mind about that.”

“Wow, what did I miss?” Your curious voice interrupts as you stumble upon their embrace, a confused smile displayed across your features. Your mother gives Zuko’s side a squeeze before releasing him back to you.

“I was just expressing my gratitude to the man that has proven time and time again to be the perfect partner for my daughter,” she expresses with a jovial glint in her eyes that you aren’t quick enough to detect. Zuko is grateful you’re completely oblivious to their previous conversation, and he hopes it will continue to stay that way until he’s ready to propose.

“He’s more than perfect,” you compliment before pressing a chaste kiss to his warm cheek, making his heart melt in the way you’ve always done since you were children.

He can’t wait to spend forever with you.

~~~

The lunar festival goes off without a hitch.

The royal plaza is filled to the brim with people enjoying the food and festivities as they pay homage to their beloved moon spirit and her gifts. You’re absolutely thrilled to see your hard work in action, and Zuko is enamored by the joy that spreads itself across his face. Every smile that curls upon your lips makes him weak in the knees, and he’d love to simply sit and admire your radiance all night if he could.

But of course, Sokka had other plans.

While you’d been wrapped up in a conversation with your old friend Kai and his new fiancé, the water tribe boy took it upon himself to sneak Zuko away to the rocky shores in search of the perfect stone.

“Before you can make the necklace, you have to pick a rock that speaks to you.”

“Speaks to me?” Zuko retorts with furrowed brows. “It’s a rock.”

“It’s not just a rock, Zuko,” Sokka rebuttals defensively to an annoyed Fire Lord. “It’s a symbol of your love for y/n! If you want to do this the right way then you have to find a stone that calls to your heart the same way she does.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” he mutters sheepishly in response, his cheeks tinting red at the intimacy of it all. He knew crafting a necklace would be a great responsibility, but he didn’t expect it to be so personal.

Surveying the vast expanse of rocks at his disposal, Zuko carefully scrutinizes each and every one. He wants the stone to be perfect because you deserve to have the perfect betrothal necklace, but the thought of not being able to find the right one makes him anxious. If it’s not the right one, then what will that mean for your marriage?

Nothing his friend’s obvious apprehension, Sokka places a comforting hand on his shoulder and explains, “Don’t stress about it too much, Zuko. Just trust your gut.”

“Easy for you to say,” Zuko scoffs in irritation, “you’re not the one dealing with the pressure of making the perfect betrothal necklace.”

“No, but I am dealing with the pressure of helping you make the perfect betrothal necklace,” he counters with a prideful grin, and while usually a comment like that would provoke an irate response from Zuko, the Prince was much too enamored by a rock sticking out of the sand to craft a proper comeback.

The moonlight almost seemed to shine down upon the rock as if beckoning him to grab it. The stone was cool in his palm, smooth to the touch and almost perfectly free of any ragged edges or scrapes. It sat daintily in his hand, delicate despite its toughness, and it reminded him of you.

“This is the one,” he utters in quiet awe before looking up at the moon. Eyes gleaming, he smiles and murmurs a “thank you.”

“You’re one step closer to the perfect necklace, buddy,” Sokka congratulates with a hearty pat on the back before guiding the Fire Lord back to the village. “You just need to add the finishing touches.”

The two wind up back inside Sokka’s hut with an array of tools sprawled out amongst them. After discussing multiple options and looking through various crudely drawn sketches by Sokka, Zuko settled upon a carving that he felt best encapsulated the nature of your relationship- a carving that displayed not only your differences but also your strengths and unity.

Attaching the stone to the blue silk ribbon, the two boys sit back in silence to admire Zuko’s creation.

“You think this is the best betrothal necklace the water tribe’s ever seen?” He jokes quietly in an attempt to mask his nerves. Now that the work is done reality has begun to set in for Zuko, and he realizes now the only thing left to do is actually propose.

“The best,” Sokka replies quietly, the emotion evident in his voice despite how hard he tries to hide it. He sniffles and wipes away the tears that threaten to spill before looking to his companion with a smile. “She’s going to love it.”

| zuko tags: @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @taeeemin @livelaughlovekuni @lovialy @alexatiu @heartfully10 @creationcitystreet-em

| fire lilies tags: @emberislandplayers @kikaninchen-2 @music-geek19 @thia-aep @thyunnamed @haylaansmi @nataliahaslosthershit @idkdude776 @aangsupremacy @thirstyforsometea @ihaveaproblem98 @brown-eyed-thang @xapham @misnmatchedsox @chewymoustachio @that-bucket-hat-gal @kyomihann @kaylove12 @kiwihoee @freggietale @moon-spirit-yue @bubblegum-bee-otch @cipheress-to-k-pop @potato87123

[glossgojo]

picture perfect guy

rooster x afab!reader | 2.5k words

summary: it’s not like you ever forget your boyfriend is strong but seeing it so blatantly displayed makes you dizzy

cw: 18+ MDNI, smut, strength kink (?), sweat kink (if u squint), size kink, man-handling, no protection don’t be like them, p in v sex, reader is down bad, secret relationship, big dick rooster, he’s just big in general, shorter reader, reader works in the navy, lowkey power dynamics where reader is higher up, rank kink, pet names (girl, baby, etc), fuck the army in more ways than one

you heard what happened in the simulation, working at top gun meant that the pilot training was of utmost importance. no one knew about your relationship and you wanted to keep it that way until the mission ended.

you made your way to the tarmac, wanting to see your boyfriend and your friends doing their punishment. in fairness as maverick’s right hand you had valid reason to make sure they did as told. your boots hitting the sweltering pavement as you made out your boyfriend doing push ups. you were sure his hands were burning up and his body was screaming from exhaustion, you grew closer seeing hondo watching them. you did your best to pay equal attention to phoenix and bob but failed completely as you heard rooster grunting. sweat beaded down his forehead and his skin shined under the sun, a sheen of perspiration on his muscular arms. you swallowed down hard, tearing your gaze from him as you looked to hondo for a count, he looked at you with a wry look and yelled out, “150.”

“i can take over, it’s hot as hell out here.” you elbowed him, he shot you a smile before counting once more and giving you an appreciative nod of the head. your eyes quickly returned to rooster. he grunted once more, moving up and down only looking up when you yelled out the next number. his furrowed brows and glare dissipated like a lovestruck puppy as he met your eyes, you shook your head to dissuade him, to try and make his response less obvious. luckily you turned to find hondo already walking away. bob and phoenix were too busy fighting the ache in their arms to notice or care. it wasn’t like you were the best actors in the world, hangman made countless jokes at the expense of both of you until you reminded him of your rank. you continued counting not missing how bradley’s eyes never seemed to leave you. he was sneaking glances as much as he could, even craning his head as you walked towards bob when you noticed him slacking off. “eyes forward rooster,” you didn’t have to look at him to see his eyes squarely planted on your ass.

you knew your boyfriend was strong, but times like this reminded you just how strong. your rooster, your bradley was mostly gentle with you. when you first started dating you had no idea just how his training affected him, even saying that you were too heavy to sit on his lap. you still remember his slightly offended expression as he tugged you onto his lap and said, “baby i could bench two of you, are you trying to hurt my feelings?” his words, just like they did the first time he said it, made your stomach drop and your thighs squeeze together. you wanted him so badly, wanted him to break you. you knew you were being unfair, the man was 165 push-ups deep in the sweltering california heat. it didn’t stop your greedy eyes from raking over his frame once again, his back muscles bulging through his black shirt as he strained them. you felt your heartbeat pick up and move south. this was torture, for all parties involved. you unbuttoned a few buttons of your uniform, it was lower than you’d usually wear in the base but the only person who had their eyes on you was bradley. the remaining push-ups went as well as they could’ve, all three lieutenants struggling against their bodies grunting and groaning as they struggled through. when it was finally over bob collapsed to the ground, welcoming the hot pavement against his skin. phoenix and rooster shakily stood. you told them both good work, offering bob a hand up which he refused. “just need to catch my breath.” you nodded and threw him a water bottle from the cooler nearby. rooster and phoenix helped themselves to the drinks. phoenix said something about needing to wash up which you nodded dumbly at not really listening when your stupidly handsome boyfriend was drinking down water like his life depended on it, water dribbling down his chin. your eyes tracked the drops as they ran down his neck and under his shirt, you so badly wanted to lick them off, feel the cool liquid against your lips but most importantly feel skin on yours. you felt an inexplicable urge to just lick him clean, you’d blame it on the heat. your entire body burned with a need for him, to taste him to drink him in, to have him. bradley groaned as he finished off his bottle, your mouth slightly agape when he caught your stare and wiped his chin with the back of his hand. his eyes flashed from confusion to all knowing, he could practically feel the desire radiating off you.

“lieutenant bradshaw, are you done for the day?” you should’ve known the answer, he was under your jurisdiction after all, but your mind couldn’t recall anything about today besides his arms and back. bradley licked his lips, feeling himself grow half-hard at the use of his rank. his breath was shallow as he spoke next.

“i’ll be leaving in 15 minutes after i shower.” his eyes flick down to your opened collar you’d forgotten about that until his wide brown eyes seemed to get wider at the sight. you buttoned up, noticing the small pout to his lips. it truly was a miracle the entire base didn’t know due to how obvious your boyfriend was.

“what a coincidence so will i.” you said, shooting him a small smile before heading off towards the base. you heard him running up to your side, following you back inside.

15 minutes later exactly, you found bradley waiting for you next to his truck. he opened the door for you and you put your hand over his as you entered. you both agreed after almost being caught in your office not to do anything physical on the base. that meant as soon as you were off the base, his hand slid onto your bare thigh, you’d changed into a sundress just like he changed into shorts and his usual hawaiian shirt. you were already so desperate for him, his rough large hand covered your thigh and you squirmed in your seat. the drive to bradley and your’s place felt longer than usual, neither of you breaking the silence. after what felt like years you both entered your home, tugging bradley to you by his shirt, your lips finding his as you leaned up onto your toes. he gasped into your mouth, his mustache tickling against you, his arms encircled your waist and you moaned at the feeling. his arms had driven you insane all day and now they were squeezing you like you were nothing. bradley pulled back at the noise, shocked at how you were so gone from a kiss alone, not knowing your train of thought. you leaned back, moving your arms from around his neck to touch his arms, you trailed them up and down feeling the muscle there as bradley watched you, slowly piecing the puzzle together.

“is my girl all worked up from watching me work-out?” his voice was hushed, heavy with want and you felt heat surge between your thighs as he aptly deduced what had you so dizzy.

“you’re so strong, so big, God bradley.” your hands trailed up his arms, to the broadness of his shoulders, traveled to his back to feel the raw power there too. bradley couldn’t help but let that comment get to head as he took in your dazed expression and smirked. at times like this he wondered how he got so lucky. he pulled you closer, his arms tightening around your waist as your chest pressed against his. he could feel all of you now, you could feel his hard-on against your stomach. you looked up at his eyes, finally tearing them away from his body. you whimpered as he lifted you clean off the floor, not even flinching or breaking eye contact. you were a doll in his hold, propped up so he could get a good look at you, finally eye level with him. your breathing got shallower, and bradley had confirmed all he needed to know, hauling you over his shoulder and carrying you to the bedroom.

bradley easily threw you on the bed, stealing the air from your lungs as you crawled up the bed. he pulled his shirt off, his tank to go next, only his dog tags against his bare toned chest. your cheeks flushed as his gaze met yours, his eyes dark with lust, pupils blown wide surrounded by hazel. you were sure you weren’t any different. “pretty, always so fucking pretty.” he murmured, in a daze just like you, wrapping a hand on your ankle and pulling you towards him, at the edge of your bed. his strength, the way he easily threw you around, made your thighs clench and bradley didn’t miss it this time. smirking as he hovered over you, pulling you by the back of your head to kiss him. he pulled back only to kiss your neck, then your collarbone, before he was pushing your sleeve down, ripping the seam in the process, making you hiss. too fucking strong and too fucking desperate for you, you were choking back a moan but didn’t want to egg him on.

“roo! i like this dress.” you gasped as he continued to kiss you, unwavered by your torn sleeve. you half wondered if you could sew it up, your thought being cut off when his teeth scraped against the top of your breast.

“i’ll buy you a new one doll.” you whined in response as he pulled the front of your dress down, cupping your breasts over your bra. you pushed at his chest, not even moving him but he moved back as you pulled the dress over your head. he quickly unclasped your bra and his kisses turned to bites, one hand kneading one breast as the other teased your nipple. his lips bit and sucked at each nipple, blowing air on it to make it even more sensitive. meanwhile you were bucking under his hold, begging for more, begging for him to touch you.

“please bradley, please,” your pleas were falling on dead ears as he sucked and pinned you down. you had to pull out the big guns. “please lieutenant bradshaw touch me.” his eyes snapped back to your face, his teeth dragging off your tender nipple.

“i’m touching you now.” his hands were circling your waist, keeping you in place. his tone was teasing, he knew what you needed but he wanted you to beg.

“please just fuck me.” and that’s all it took, bradley never was one for dragging things out. you both were already aching for each other. he lifted you up and instead of pushing you further up, he was lifting you clean off the bed, to stand. you legs wrapped around his waist and his hands lifted you up by the underside of your thighs. you looked at him to try and understand what he was doing until one hand left your thigh and you heard his fly unzip. he was gonna fuck you while standing, while supporting your entire weight. you were sure you had soaked through your underwear, bradley would know anyways since his member was freed and poking against your clothed entrance. bradley pushed your underwear to the side, it made you feel even filthier than you did now. bradley cursed under his breath, rubbing his head against you, collecting the slick there and coating his member with it. you whined and twitched as his tip caught against your clit. you’d start dripping on your hardwood floor if he didn’t fuck you already.

“ready baby?” you nodded enthusiastically with hooded eyes, one of your hands playing with his chain as he pushed the tip in. you gasped at the stretch, no matter how many times he fucked you, you’d never get used to how fucking big he was. he stretched you wide and filled you all the way up. he slowly pushed in, letting you adjust like always. you pressed a kiss to his lips as you looked down with a slight nod for him to move.

maybe you shouldn’t have made your newfound affinity for his strength so blatant, because bradley lifted you up and plunged you back down so viciously you saw stars. his tip bruised your cervix and you swear you could feel the veins on his cock stamp your walls. you were clenching around him, the sounds of your slick pouring out of you and the slap of skin against skin filled the room making your head spin. bradley never let up his pace, his breathing growing shallow as he used like a sex toy. “fuck bradley, s-so deep.” you whined out, leaning your forehead against his. you felt his was wet with sweat and you clenched at the memory of him from earlier today. you watched a bead of sweat roll down the side of his head and this time you caught it with your tongue. bradley lost any self control he was holding onto at that.

“you’re killing me baby.” his pace grew brutal, turning you into a babbling mess as he began thrusting up while still hammering you on his cock. you grabbed onto his hair, grabbed his arms his shoulders, dug your nails into his back and clawed, anything you could do to ground yourself. nothing stopped the earth-shattering pleasure from washing over you in waves. everything felt sensitive, your nipples erect as they ground against him from every thrust. you felt yourself close and you knew bradley was too, could feel him tensing up under you. with one final thrust, he came inside filling you past the brim, his cum mixed with yours leaking out the side. you came with him, twitching in his hold as he fucked you both through it, milking him for all he had. he never moved you off as he walked you both to bed, lying you down, spooning you from behind. the angle let him stay inside, not letting anything leak, just like you both liked.

“so the push-ups huh?” bradley whispered against the shell of your ear, pulling your underwear off finally and hugging you closer. his dick going even deeper.

“uh huh, you looked too damn good lieutenant.” at the mention of his rank, you felt his dick twitch and you couldn’t stop the giggle from escaping your lips. you both were insatiable. it wasn’t long before you were worked up again, bradley filling you up and proving just how strong he was all over again.

a/n: possibly my filthiest one-shot to date? that can easily be beaten but something about sweaty bradley bradshaw makes me FERAL…. i will not be taking questions ab it <3

[dilatorywriting]

Heroes vs. Villains : Octavinelle [Part 2]

Gender Neutral Reader x Octavinelle vs. Rielle Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: Woe to the Ramshackle Prefect, being caught up in the drama between the Disney Villains and their respective heroes. Octavinelle Version, Part 2 ie. Your red-headed hero arrives at Night Raven College and your other aquatic friends are less than enthused.

[PART 1] [PART 2]

The VDC is going to be one of the biggest events in Night Raven College’s history. It’s going to be spectacular, awe-inspiring, one for the history books. And somehow, by the grace of the Gods (or, well, Vil and Professor Crewel) you have tickets.

So naturally, Azul wants you to work through the entire thing.

“I know you don’t like people,” he’d smiled, as if he was offering you salvation on a silver platter. “And just think of it—all those crowds of sweaty, screaming, humans running around. It only seems right that I, as your employer and friend, do my due diligence to keep you safe during all of it, hmm?”

“We’re just thinking of your wellbeing,” Jade had piped in, a gloved hand pressed to his chest all innocent-like. You weren’t fooled for a second.

“And think of all the extra Thaumarks you’ll earn in tips!” Azul chirped. “I know being in a new world has been difficult for you in more ways than one, and that the financial burden in particular has been terribly unpleasant. So really, we’re just doing everything we can to assist you!”

Lies about being considerate for your ‘delicate mental health’ aside, money was good. Money was great. And besides, all you really cared about was the Choral Competition. As long as you could sneak away for that one, camping out in the Lounge didn’t actually seem like the worst idea in the world. The food was excellent, the atmosphere soothing, and the company was—

…Well.

‘Less than desirable’ would probably be an understatement. But Azul always let you take home the leftovers at the end of the night, and sometimes on colder nights Jade would make you a cup of cocoa with no mushrooms in it or anything. So maybe you could excuse a bit of sadism here and there.

So the VDC came and little, poor, you were squirreled away behind the gilded doors of the Mostro Lounge. Aside for the influx of costumers (and subsequent ‘event price hikes’), it was hardly different than any of your other shifts. The one notable difference was how often Azul swapped your station. Normally you were on door duty, or acting as part of the wait staff. But every time a group of RSA students strutted by in their fancy white uniforms, the Octo-Mer would shuffle you off to the kitchens. Or the bar. Or even his office sometimes, demanding assistance with clerical work.

Someone called your name and you lifted your head from your cloud of misery and menial labor—only half paying attention to the people you were ushering in towards the seating area. But instead of another unfamiliar blob waving you down, you actually recognized this guy. Him and his brilliant shock of red hair that you wouldn’t be able to miss from a mile away.

Lo – it was fork dude.

Or, well, Prince Rielle Tidal of Atlantica. But whatever. Man had pushed a utensil into your hands and told you to brush your hair with it. There was no coming back from that.

Your sun-kissed savior swerved through the line to greet you, nearly bowling you over in his enthusiasm. His RSA uniform was a blotch of bleached brightness against the sea of Night Raven’s black ensemble. Normally your rival academics seemed to travel in packs—safety in numbers and all that. But Rielle was weaving through the mass of grumpy NRC faces like he was perfectly at home.

“I decided to pop by to see Azul and his business—because, you know, he was always so smart and pragmatic so I knew it’d probably be really cool and whatever—but wow! It’s really you!”

“It’s really me,” you repeated, fighting to keep the chirp in your customer service voice. “So, would you like a table or—"

“Wait a second—Azul has you working during the festival?!” Rielle gawked, as if he was just realizing that he had stepped into a place a of business, and that you were wearing the uniform of said establishment. “That’s so cruel!”

Yes. Yes it was. But Azul was nothing if not cruel. And if this guy actually knew anything about him at all, he should be perfectly aware of that.

“Someone has to do it,” you shrugged. “Anyways, can I get you something to—”

“Wah, look at this! Shrimpy’s slackin’ on the job!”

Maybe you could put your head through the wall. That would probably be less painful.

Floyd, Jade, and Azul materialized behind you seemingly out of thin air. The terrible trio greeted your dour frown with varying degrees of spiteful glee. And… something else? There was a sort of tension about them that didn’t mesh with their usual haughtiness. It had cropped up for the first time a few weeks ago—that day at the beach. And subsequently the hours after when Jade had pulled Azul into his office to whisper all kinds of nonsense that was apparently ‘too delicate’ for you and whatever tolerance you’d built for these sociopaths.

“Actually, it’s my fault!” Rielle blurted, stepping smoothly in front of you with all the chivalry of a knight. You wanted to warn him that dipping into Floyd’s bite radius was a terrible idea, but at the same time, you were tired, and hungry, and very curious to see how this would all play out. “And I was just wondering—well… I—I mean…”

The young Prince was starting to splutter, his cheeks burning that same, hot, pink that they had all those weeks ago at the beach. He took a moment to clear his throat, compose himself, and then grasped your hands with both of his very neatly manicured ones.

You thought you heard someone gasp. Like in a period novel.

“I actually heard that you were at Night Raven too! And I’ve been looking all over for you! So—I—Would you—” More throat clearing. Floyd’s teeth were grinding together so loudly it almost sounded like a buzzsaw. “Do you want to get something to eat with me?”

There was a deafening crack and you watched as Jade nearly put Floyd through the floor in an attempt to keep him from lurching forward. You observed the scene before you with pleasant sort of surprise as the trio across from you erupted. Or, well, Floyd had erupted. Jade just had that perfectly polite smile on his mouth that let you know he was planning someone’s murder. And Azul looked like he’d just taken physical damage.

Huh. Interesting.

Then again, you’d known they were a proprietary bunch. And you also knew that you were the favorite chew toy around these parts. No one else was sturdy enough for the role, apparently.

“Oi, Princey,” Floyd snarled from behind Jade’s gloved fingers. “What do you think you’re—"

“I—” you interrupted, stepping between the rabid Merfolk and the would-be-mincemeat. “—would love to.”

Silence.

“…What?” Azul squawked.

“I’m due for my break anyways,” you shrugged, enjoying the horrible little surge of satisfaction warming your gut. Take that, you obnoxious fucks. You weren’t sure why Rielle and his crimson-monstrosity of a hairdo had set the three of them off so terribly, but you’d been on your feet for hours now. And missing all the food stalls, and your other friends, and you were going to take this petty revenge where you could.

You turned to Rielle with a polite little smile that you hoped looked more demure than scheming, and his eyes sparkled.

“You don’t mind eating here, do you?” you asked before shooting Azul an award-winning grin. “I’m sure having a Prince dining in would be great advertisement.”

“But of course,” he grit out. “Who would I be to turn down such a ringing endorsement.”

Rielle tossed an amiable arm across your shoulders and laughed that tinkling, church-bell, laugh of his. Floyd’s lip twitched and Azul snagged his arm quicker than a snake could strike. The snarling behemoth was promptly dragged off into the depths of the Lounge—Azul muttering something frantically under his breath that you couldn’t make out. He looked hunched, panicked. And whatever he was saying must have been serious enough to snag Floyd’s fickle attentions, because the too-tall henchman stayed firmly at his boss’s side. The pair of them vanished into the kitchens, the door slamming behind them.

“Just this way then, if you’d please,” Jade beamed, positively glacial.

“This’ll be great!” the Prince preened, keeping a loose grip on you as you both trailed a very stiff Eel through the front parlor. “I get to see all of Azul’s awesome accomplishments and have lunch with you at the same time!”

“The Mostro Lounge is a lovely place to dine,” you chirped, repeating your familiar, scripted, server prompts from memory. “There’s something for everyone.”

“Is that so?” Rielle hummed, as if in deep thought. “That’s very considerate of them.”

Plenty of people at this school liked to insult your intelligence, and you in turn liked to remind certain someones (Ace. Sebek.) that it was best not to throw stones in glass houses. But this was—you may have really found an actual, factual, ditz. Was this how Azul felt all the time? Looking down at you mere mortals with his superior IQ and cunning? Listening to Rielle’s innocent rambling made you feel like Einstein. It was… sort of nice.

My God, you were going to have be responsible for him, weren’t you? Is that was parenthood felt like?

Jade led you to a quiet booth in the back—the one with a direct line of sight to both the kitchens and Azul’s office. The one reserved for problem customers. You folded yourself neatly onto the cushioned bench and Rielle followed, sitting at your side rather than across the table. Something in Jade’s jaw twitched.

“What do you recommend?” Rielle asked you cheerfully, practically radiating enthusiasm. “I’m sure everything is fantastic!”

“Hmm… How about the Mixed Seafood Platter to start I think,” you grinned, turning your polite beam back on your unfortunate server. “With the Unagi, please.”

Beneath all that bubbling irritation, something in those bi-colored eyes gleamed with the barest hint of respect.

“But of course. If you’ll excuse me.”

Once Jade had retreated, Rielle relaxed back into his seat with a theatrical sigh. He brushed his neat swoop of hair off his forehead, like he was wiping away sweat from a workout.

“Phewf! Not that Azul’s friends aren’t nice and all, but they always give me a bit of the heebie-jeebies.”

That was the kindest word for ‘intense murderous aura’ that you’d ever heard.

“A bit, yeah,” you agreed easily enough. “So how do you know Azul?”

“Oh!” he perked right back up. “We were classmates! When we were younger. He was always really quiet, but also really smart! Is he still like that? Quiet—I mean. Reserved.”

A memory struck you then—of standing at Azul’s side in the lobby of the Atlantica Memorial Museum. You remembered his hesitant determination as he replaced his old class photo on the wall. The picture of a tiny, rounder, Azul standing off to the side—hunched, grey, and miserable amidst a sea of laughing faces. You couldn’t remember if there had been a brilliant slash of red mixed in there anywhere. You hadn’t even bothered to check. Because why would you have even deigned to look at the faces of a group of bullies?

Something soured in your gut.

“I wouldn’t say that, no,” your smile sharpening a bit at the edges. “He’s actually very talkative. It’s hard to get him to shut up most of the time.”

“Really?” Rielle gaped. “Wow! That’s awesome!”

Jade slithered by to drop off your appetizers, and if he noticed the slight drop in your mood he didn’t mention it. He was in and out in a flash. You could just see the whisps of his teal hair disappearing back into Azul’s office.

“Enough about Azul though,” Rielle waved off, reaching for the platter. “Tell me about you!”

“Me?” you echoed, bland. “But isn’t Azul your old friend?”

The Prince waved you off once more, cheeks pinkening all over again. “I can talk to him whenever. I’d much rather hear about you! You’re—You’re interesting!”

Now, that was probably a genuine compliment. You doubted Rielle actually meant to slight your friend companion boss by implying that the most ambitious, intelligent, cunning, and well-dressed merman on campus wasn’t interesting enough to converse about—that all of Azul’s efforts to bring himself out of the shadows and onto center stage were still wanting. But that bitter thing in your stomach was raring for a fight.

So you ruffled around in your uniform pocket and pulled out the little notebook you used to tally orders. You shot Rielle the brightest, sweetest, smile you could and watched his stupidly pretty face light up redder than his hair.

“Actually,” you giggled—giggled. Like a freak. “I’d love to hear about you.”

.

.

.

“He’s going to say something!—”

“What doesn’t Shrimpy already know, huh?” Floyd griped. “And I mean, didn’t you steal Ramshackle? You really think bubble-butt out there can do anything to make the Prefect hate you?”

Azul paced. And paced. And paced.

“It’s not about hating me,” he hissed, fighting the urge to wring his hands. “It’s about realizing there are better options out there, and—”

“Bubble-butt is a better option?!” Floyd cackled.

“Stop interrupting me!”

“Then stop whining,” the eel droned, flopping his head back against the couch. “You shoulda just let me squeeze ‘em.”

“We do not need to spark an international incident in my restaurant,” Azul repeated. Though it sounded less like he was trying to convince Floyd than himself.  “Rielle Tidal is a Prince—”

“—a shitty, turd, leftover, Prince—”

“—who we must treat,” Azul grit out, “as such.”

There was a firm rap against the door and Jade slipped inside. Azul had to fight the reflex to pounce on him immediately. Instead he took a moment to pause and straighten his suit jacket. His fingers were shaking and he was sure that Jade would have seen, but thankfully there seemed to be a single shred of mercy left in his Vice-Warden’s cold, withered, heart, and the trembling limbs were not mentioned.

Jade cleared his throat and Azul leaned forward, anxious.

“I think you may be overthinking things,” he said, calm as a cucumber, and Azul wanted to scream.

“It’s not paranoia, it’s being prepared,” he snipped. A pause. “But why do you say that? What happened? Did something happen?”

Jade smiled that placid smile of his. “No.”

“No?” Azul repeated, flabbergasted.

“No,” Jade shrugged.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Floyd piped in.

Azul was just about to turn and remind his wonderful subordinate just how terrible he could make his existence when there was another knock at the door—lighter than Jade’s but just as familiar. Not a moment later, your head popped through the crack and you peaked inside wearily.

Azul hastily cleared his throat and Jade’s grin turned smug.

“Pr-Prefect! Can I help you with something?”

Floyd snickered under his breath and Azul mentally added another three hours onto the bastard’s nightly dish duties.

You stepped inside and tossed a tiny notebook down onto his desk.

“Here,” you said, with a grumpy sort of frown on your face. “All of Prince Rielle of Atlantica’s stupid wants, hopes, and dreams. You better be able to put this to good use you stupid mafioso wannabe, because I’ve been listening to this guy ramble on about himself for ages now, and I’d rather get drowned by Jade and Floyd again.”

You turned without another word and slammed the door behind you.

Azul gaped wordlessly at the pile of tiny pages splattered across his desk, and the familiar curl of your handwriting filling each and every one of them.

“Oh,” he breathed.

“Oh indeed,” Jade grinned.

[ereardon]

Before I Knew [Jake Seresin x Reader] Chapter Ten

A Jake Seresin unexpected pregnancy fic

Overview: On your first night after moving to San Diego to spend more time with your brother Bob, you unknowingly have a one night stand with his teammate Jake Seresin. For the first time in his whole life, Bob has a closely knit friend group and you’re desperate not to rock the boat. But an unexpected and unplanned pregnancy upends your world, forcing you and Jake closer together, against Bob’s wishes. What will happen when you find yourself actually falling for the father of your unborn child? 

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader; Bob Floyd x Sister!Reader 

Warnings: Pregnancy, cursing, eventual smut, angst

Chapter summary: Ducky and Jake deal with jealousy; the team meets Bob's new girlfriend

WC: 2.5K

Masterlist here; previous chapter here

The first time it happened, you were at the library desk, sitting down and pouring over a handful of new returns, typing in their serial numbers to check where they were meant to be shelved. 

“Excuse me?” You looked up. A guy, probably in his mid twenties, with blindingly white teeth and perfect olive skin, smiled down at you. “Could I ask you a question?” 

“Of course.” You pushed away the book and leaned forward on the desk, hands smoothed down over the cold surface. “How can I help you?” 

“I’m looking for a book about motorcycle repairs.” 

“Sure, I think that would be over in that back left corner.” You pointed one finger. 

He grinned. “Care to show me?” There was something flirty about the way he said it and you felt your blood pressure rise. 

“Sure.” You stood up and walked around the edge of the desk. 

His eyes widened as he looked you up and down. He cleared his throat. “Actually, uh, I’m sure I can find it myself. Thanks.” He was gone before you could even comprehend what had happened. 

And then you looked down and realized you could no longer hide it. 

***

“Y/N?” Jake’s voice rang out in the apartment. “Honey?” 

You emerged around the corner wearing a sweatshirt and a pair of bike shorts with a frown. “What did we talk about?” 

He smirked. “Sorry, habit.” 

“What do you want?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Just wanted to tell you I’m going out,” he said quietly. 

“The bar?” 

He hesitated. Then, “Um, No. a date.” 

Your heart squeezed. And even though you had said he should date, you hadn’t really meant it. You hadn’t thought he would go through with it. “Oh,” you whispered. “OK. See you later I guess.” 

Jake frowned. “Do you, uh, want to come with?” 

You cackled. “You’re joking, right?” 

“I don’t know what to do here, Y/N,” he sighed. “You seem upset but you told me to date. You practically shoved me out the door. And now I feel guilty leaving you alone.” 

“I’ll call Phoenix,” you said, picking up the phone. “I don’t want to go along on whatever slut date you have planned.” 

Jake’s face hardened. “Well OK. I guess I’ll see you later.” The sound of the door closing, hard, made you jump. 

You collapsed on the couch and pulled out your phone. “Phoenix, it’s Y/N. Listen, do you want to come over?” You paused. “Jake is out on a date.” 

“I’ll be there in ten.” 

***

“He’s a jerk.” 

“I told him to go!” 

Phoenix yanked her hand out of the popcorn bowl. “Still. Jerk.” 

“Was he like this when the two of you were together?” 

She closed her eyes for a moment then shook her head. “Yeah, uh, he’s always been like this.”

“Why do you sound so hesitant?” 

“Honestly?” 

“Hit me.” You pulled your legs up beneath you on the couch and slapped your knees. 

“I thought he would be different,” she said quietly. “With you. With the baby. That maybe this was the wakeup call he needed to get his life together.” 

“I guess not,” you replied. 

“Don’t count him out yet,” Phoenix added, sipping her wine. “He might surprise you.” 

Less than an hour later, you and Phoenix both turned as the key in the lock swiveled and the door opened. She looked over at you, wide eyed, as Jake stepped inside alone. 

“Trace,” he called out as he stepped into the living room. “Y/N.” 

“Hangman,” she said, folding her arms over her chest. “You’re home early. Quickie by the side of the road, no dinner?” 

He blushed, a grimace over his handsome and chiseled jawline. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” 

“Yup,” she said, tossing one arm over your shoulder. “Right here, watching Desperate Housewives.” 

“Natasha,” he said and there was something in his voice. Both of you registered it. A pleading. 

She turned to you. “Guess that’s my cue. Call me.” Phoenix stood up, her tanned legs unfolding gracefully. As she crossed the room, her eyes lingered in Jake but his eyes were glued on you. He stood in the middle of the room until the sound of the door shutting rattled the wall. 

“How was your date?” you asked. 

“I told her about you and she walked out.” 

“You’re so dumb.” You shook your head. “Why on earth would you tell her that on a first date?” 

Jake rubbed his eyes furiously. “What the hell else am I supposed to say, Y/N? If I want to take a girl back to my place, you’re in the next room. In six months, there will be a baby in a crib in the apartment.” 

You stood up. “You’re the one who asked me to move in. Who begged me. And now you’re blaming your shitty sex life on me?” 

“I, fuck!” Jake tossed his hands up into the air. His face, normally so composed, was angry. He stepped forward and instinctively your hands fell to your stomach. He stopped, his eyes wide. “Do you think I’m going to hurt you?” he whispered, voice shaking. 

“I don’t know,” you replied softly. Was he going to hurt you? Was dating someone else hurting you, even if you said it was fine? Was staying out late, flirting with other women, hurting you? 

You’d be lying if you said no. 

His green eyes bore into yours. “I’m going to bed.” 

“Jake!” You called out after him but he was already halfway down the hallway. 

You were frozen in the living room as the sound of his bedroom door shutting filled the apartment. Without thinking, you padded down the hallway and flung open the door to his room. Jake whirled around, his chest bare, wearing just a pair of khakis. “Y/N,” he breathed out. “What are you–?” 

“Are you going to hurt me?” you whispered, stepping closer. 

“Never.” 

“Why did you tell her?” you whispered. 

“What?” 

“The girl. The date. Why did you tell her about me?” 

Jake hesitated. “I told you. If I wanted to bring her home –” 

You shook your head, interrupting him. “That’s not the real reason, is it?” You stepped closer, so only a whisper of space was between the two of you. 

“Y/N.” Jake’s voice was low and dark, it practically rumbled through your body. “What are you doing?” 

“Are you going to hurt me?” you repeated. 

“No.” 

“Do you want me to see other people?” 

“No.” It came out automatically. 

“Why not?” 

“Because.” His breath was warm and smelled like beer but you knew without a shadow of a doubt he was stone cold sober. “Because you’re carrying my child.” 

“That’s it?” you asked. “That’s the only reason.” The room was dark and heady. You could feel your pulse racing. 

“You think I want other men touching you?” he whispered. “Putting their hands on your stomach, feeling our baby when I've never even felt our baby move?” 

You reached out, taking one of his hands in his, your other hand easing up the edge of your sweatshirt. Jake sucked in a breath at the curve of your lower stomach as you pressed his fingertips below your belly button. In the slim sliver of moonlight, you watched his tanned, large hand hold on. “It’s too early,” you whispered. “To feel anything.” You looked up. 

Jake was silent, his eyes glued to your stomach, his fingertips warm against your stretched skin. 

“I’m asking you,” you said quietly, “not to hurt me.” 

Jake pulled his hand away, but you could still feel the heat of his skin on yours. “That’s the last thing I’m going to do.” 

You stepped back. Any closer and you would throw yourself into Jake’s arms. You wanted nothing more than to feel his strong arms wrap around your body, pull you in tightly. Feel the whisper of his lips against yours. 

But for your sanity, you stepped back, into the door frame. Let the moonlight slip from Jake’s face until he was plunged into darkness. 

“Goodnight,” you whispered. 

Even in the darkness, you could picture his frown. “Goodnight.” 

***

“Tell me everything.”

Bob blushed and you nudged his arm with your elbow. Across the table, Phoenix grinned. “Tell her, Floyd.” 

“Her name is Sena,” he replied quietly. “We met on Hinge.” 

You squealed. Across the table, Bradley covered his ears while Phoenix cackled. 

Bob patted your hand. “Ducky, please.” 

“Tell me more,” you begged. 

He dipped his head. “She’s pretty.” 

“She’s fucking hot,” Phoenix corrected. 

“She’s beautiful,” Bob countered and you watched the way his eyes lit up. “She’s a pharmacist. Her family is from Mexico and she likes to surf.” 

“So she’s hot,” you said, leaning back and giggling. “Bobby, I’m happy. Are you happy?” 

“I’m happy.” 

“Why are we so happy?” Jake slid into the spot next to you on the bench, his thigh grazing yours for a second and you felt a flutter in your stomach. Jitters. 

“Bobby here has a girlfriend,” you said proudly.

Jake’s jaw dropped. “Shut up.” 

“OK Regina George,” Phoenix countered and the group laughed. 

“Bring her around sometime, Floyd,” Jake said. “I’ll believe it when I see it.” 

You swatted at him playfully. “Don’t tease him.” 

Jake caught your hand for a moment mid-air and the two of you paused, your eyes locked. And then Rooster coughed and your hand fell. You turned back to Bob whose blue eyes were watching you carefully. 

“Bring her around, though,” you said. “Please, Bobby? I want to meet her.” 

He took your hand and squeezed. “OK, Duck. You can meet her.” 

***

“A bar, really?” You frowned at the text on your phone. Bob and his new girlfriend were already at The Hard Deck with Phoenix and Coyote. You grunted and tugged at your dress, too tight around the middle. “I look fat,” you muttered to yourself. 

“You’re pregnant.” Jake hovered in the doorway and you turned. 

“I just look like I ate twelve donuts.” 

“You look beautiful.” 

“Shut up.” 

He shook his head. “No.” 

“I should change.” 

Jake grinned. “Should I sit down or is it not that kind of show?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Wait in the living room, I’ll be five minutes.” 

“I grew up with sisters, it’s never five minutes.” His voice trailed off as he meandered down the hallway. Twenty minutes later, you hated that he was right, you emerged in the living room wearing a flowing dress and your hair swept up, a pair of earrings dangling toward your collarbone. Jake stood up and patted down the legs of his jeans. “You look perfect.” 

“Are you sure?” you asked nervously. “I can go change, and–” 

“Woman.” He stepped forward and grabbed your arm lightly. “No more changing. We’re late as it is.” 

“Did you just call me woman?” 

Jake opened the door to his truck, shaking his head. “Hop in. Please.” 

The ride to the bar was largely silent, punctuated by Jake asking you what radio station you wanted and how you were feeling. By the time you pulled up to the bar, you could sense something was off. “Are you going to tell me, or do I have to guess?” 

“What?” He cut the engine. 

“You’re acting weird.” 

“I’m literally not saying anything.”

“That’s what’s weird!” 

“There’s no winning with you, sweetheart.” 

“Ugh there you go again with the nicknames.” 

“Jesus.” He flung open his door and stomped out. You struggled to chase after him, practically wobbling to catch up with him in the gravel parking lot. 

“Jake!” He whipped around as your fingertips closed around his bicep. “What’s the matter with you?” 

“You think it’s easy?” he asked. “Seeing you looking like that walking into a place like this?” 

You frowned. “I’m pregnant. No one is looking at me.” 

“Everyone is looking at you,” he whispered hotly. “You don’t look pregnant at all in that outfit. You look fucking gorgeous and I guarantee that every single guy in there is going to try to buy you a drink.” 

“Well I can’t drink,” you spat back. “So unless they want to buy me a ginger ale they can fuck off.” 

“I better not see anyone touching you.” 

“Well then you better keep your eyes peeled.” You shook your head. “I’m going to find Bobby.” 

The bar was crowded and you had to weave your way through sweaty bodies to get to the back. Just as one elbow was about to shoot out and smash you in the face, a hand pulled you back and you felt your back press against a hard chest, Jake’s fingertips smoothing over your side. “Watch out,” he hissed at the guy with the curveball elbow. “You almost hit her in the face.” 

“Sorry dude.” The guy barely shifted and Jake shoved him out of the way, using his forearm as a shield to protect you from the masses until the two of you were birthed out of the crowd into the back of the room. 

Bob stood up immediately and you stepped closer to him, Jake’s hand falling from your side. “Ducky,” he said and you tossed your arms around his neck, inhaling his familiar scent. “This is Sena. Sena, this is my little sister Y/N.” 

She held out one hand. “Hi, so nice to meet you! Bobby has told me so much about you.” 

Sena was way cuter than Bob had described. Tall and lithe, with beautiful tanned skin and shiny dark hair that fell past her shoulders with a slight wave. She had a stack of gold bracelets on one arm, and was wearing a pair of shorts and a crop top, a taunt section of skin showing a tattoo curved around her side that you couldn’t quite make out. You grinned. “Nice to meet you, too.” 

“Here, sit.” Bob pulled out a chair and you settled in. You turned, expecting Jake to be right behind you, but he disappeared into the crowd. Instead, you shook your head and turned to Sena. 

“So tell me everything,” you said and Bob shook his head with a sigh. “Let’s start with your biggest icks about my brother.” 

She laughed and you sat and listened as she waxed poetic about Bobby. There was an air about them, you noticed it instantly. The way her hand floated to his thigh, how he would smile at her when she spoke. A spark. Something deep inside of you panged with jealousy, and happiness. 

After a while, once the conversation had flipped to Bradley, you swiveled around and squinted. Jake still hadn’t come back to the table. It had been at least forty minutes since the two of you had arrived. 

You stood up and Bob looked up, eyes wide. “Have to pee,” you said and he nodded. You weaved through the crowd, now thinning on the edges, toward the long hallway in the back. 

But as you rounded the corner, your breath caught. 

Jake, with one hand pressed against the wood wall, leaning over a short redhead, her doe eyes trained on him, his free hand tipping her chin up toward him. You watched, mouth agape, as he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. 

You turned and fled, before he could see you. Even if it meant peeing your pants. You would pee in the sand, for all you cared. Anything to get away from Jake Seresin in that moment. 

Please follow my library page @ereardonlibrary as that will largely serve as my tag list. Anyone I previous promised to tag is here:

@blue-aconite @withahappyrefrain @wkndwlff @mamachasesmayhem @djs8891 @clancycucumber230 @gigisimsonmars @xomrsalliej4787xo @myfaveficrecs @mycobrakai1972 @sio-ina-bottle @joaquinwhorres @justanothermagicalsara @je-suis-prest-rachel @shanimallina87

@rosiahills22 @buckysteveloki-me  @kmc1989 @eloquentdreamer @mjisbby @seresinslady @seresinhangmanjake @blackwidownat2814 @bbyvanessaa  @mrsjobarnes @midnightmagpiemama @ingoaliesitrust @rockbottomphilosophies-blog @iangiemae @boiolay @sometimesanalice @na-ta-sh-aa @bobfloydsbabe @kmc1989 @rosiahills22 @palepeanutponyshoe @onceupona-happilyeverafter-love @mel119g @daggerspare-standingby @grxcisxhy-wp @mrsjobarnes @csmt-m @rockbottompunk-blog @joaquinwhorres @xoxabs88xox @spinning-away

[bloatedandalone04]

Wrapped Around Your Finger - Part 1.5

Series Masterlist | Original Fic

➪in which anakin and the guys are granted a break, but that still didn’t give him any hope that he could actually fix things between you and him - but that also didn’t stop him from trying.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 3.2k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | THANK YOU FOR 4.6K FOLLOWERS

Anakin was sitting quietly on the couch as he half listened to Theo and Helena talk at the table on the bus. 

They had been discussing something in hushed whispers for a while now, but Anakin still had no idea what they were talking about. He couldn’t focus on anything right now as he scrolled through the text thread he has with you, his expression one of misery and agony. 

He knew you were back in LA by now. You had to be. You were probably packing your things as he sits and lets his eyes flicker between his bandmate and manager. 

Anakin had left you so many messages by now, and you haven’t replied to a single one. He felt pathetic and worthless, and he hated himself. 

He dropped his phone with a huff, instead deciding to trace his index finger along your handwriting on his wrist. It can’t be over between the two of you. It just couldn’t be. You were everything to him, his entire world. How was he supposed to do this without you? 

“Helena, please, just a few weeks,” Theo begged, and Helena sighed as she rubbed her forehead harshly. “My sister just told me that our mom is getting worse. I can’t let her go through that by herself anymore. I can’t not be there for them anymore. Please.”

Anakin’s mood deteriorated further at his friend’s pleas, and he wished there was something he could do for Theo, but he can’t even fix his own mess. “I know, Theo, I know,” Helena mumbled, standing up and rummaging around in her bag. “I’ve been trying to get this thing pushed back ever since you know who decided to touch broody over there.”

The not so subtle dig had Anakin rolling his eyes and picking at the threads on the blanket he threw over his lap. “Well, can you?” Theo asked desperately. “Get it pushed back? Just a few weeks. I need to be there if my mom-” he cut himself off as he refused to say it out loud. 

Anakin felt tears prick at his eyes as he stared at the floor. His heart ached for Theo, and it ached even worse for you. How had things gotten this bad? Just to make things that much more tragic, it seems like Clara and Vinny’s relationship was on its way out, too. She had left last night on a flight back home, and Vinny hasn’t been out of bed ever since. 

Seriously, how the fuck had things gotten this bad?

Helena looked at Theo with poorly concealed pity, and she sighed as she ran her hands through her hair. “Okay, Liz’s contract will end soon, and I think I’ll be able to get the next few weeks pushed back, so she won’t be welcomed back on the tour once things go back to normal,” she started, sitting back down at the table and looking between Theo and Anakin. “So that might help fix his problem.”

She gestured over to Anakin, and he just scoffed, wondering why she was talking about him like he wasn’t sitting less than three feet from her. 

“I think I can have all of you on flights back home by the end of the week, I just need to make a few calls,” she stated and Anakin’s scowl disappeared almost instantly. 

“What?” He asked in disbelief as Theo made a beeline to his bunk to begin packing. “Really?”

Helena nodded, flipping through a notebook with various names and phone numbers in it. She was old fashioned that way, despite being not much older than Anakin. “Don’t quote me on that, but I think I can do it,” 

Anakin sprung up, the blanket falling to the floor as he pulled her out of the chair and wrapped his arms around her. “Thank you,” he rasped, aware that she might not be able to get the tour pushed back, but she was going to try, and that’s what counted. “I owe you. For everything.”

Helena huffed quietly, pulling away to look him in the eye. “We’re a team, Anakin. You guys are like my family at this point,” she murmured and Anakin felt more tears gather in his eyes. “You know I’ll try to do anything I can for you three.”

“I know,” he whispered, “Still, thank you.” 

The next morning, after Anakin got about an hour and a half of sleep, he was waiting anxiously to hear if Helena had managed to get the tour postponed. He was sure Theo had been up all night, too, if the way he couldn’t seem to get comfortable in his bunk across from Anakin’s was anything to go by. 

When she announced that she was able to push the tour back a few weeks, Anakin booked the first flight back to LA and had Theo beside him on the plane. Vinny was in no rush to go back, so he decided to stay behind for a few more days. 

Anakin had sent you a quick text before he boarded the plane, which read, 

I’m coming home. I’m going to fix everything, I promise, Princess. I love you so much. 

And when he got into an Uber after the flight, he saw that you had read his text, but didn’t reply. That was the first text of his that you had read, and as pathetic as it sounded, it gave him hope. 

Theo was in the car with him since they had decided to ride together. He lived a few minutes away from yours and Anakin’s apartment, so he would be dropped off after Anakin. He didn’t even care that Theo would involuntarily be listening to the voicemail Anakin is forced to leave you as you had once again ignored his call. “Baby, it’s me,” he started, glancing over at his friend and feeling grateful for the way Theo turned his body towards the window so Anakin could have at least a little bit of privacy in the car. “I’m ten minutes away from our place. I’m so sorry, for everything.”

He ended it after that, even though he had so much more to say. He wanted to save himself the embarrassment of pouring his heart out to you over the phone, just to have you delete it without even listening to it. 

When the car pulled up outside the apartment complex, Anakin reached over and hugged Theo. “I hope things get better for you and Mary and your mom,” he mumbled, hearing Theo sniff quietly in response as he tried to hold off tears. “Text me if you need anything, okay? I mean it.”

Theo nodded and pulled away. “Same to you,” he says with a forced smile. “Y/n will forgive you. You’ve been together for too long to just give up on it now.” 

Anakin returned a half smile, squeezing his friend’s shoulder before grabbing his bag and getting out of the car. He watched it pull away from the curb as his hand dug around in his bag for his keys, and he almost cried when he finally found them. He hadn’t used them in so long, and he was hit with the memory of the last time he was here. It was the day he left for the tour with you by his side. 

If he could go back and do it again but better, he would in a heartbeat. But he couldn’t. He just had to deal with the consequences now. 

Anakin blinked a few times as he entered the lobby and headed right over to the elevators, taking one all the way up to the fifteenth floor as he tried to think of what to say to you. 

Would you even be there? Did you read his last text and flee the second he got on that plane? God, he hoped not. 

He was a shaky, sweaty mess as he reached the floor you and he lived on, and his nerves were slowly taking over as he neared the door. Anakin couldn’t believe how nervous he was about entering his own apartment and facing you, the girl he’s loved for five years now. It had never been like that with you. Ever.

As he stuck the key in the lock and turned it, his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. He hadn’t seen you since that night in the dressing room nearly four days ago. He had so much to make up for, so much to apologize for, and he could only hope that you would listen.

When he pushed the door open and stepped inside the quiet apartment, his heart fell at how dark it was. He was sure you weren’t home and hadn’t been for a while, but then he heard some movement to his left, and he dropped his bag instantly and entered the living room. “Princess,” he whispered when he saw you sitting on the couch, your old Uni hoodie covering your upper half while a blanket covered the rest of you. 

Your hair was tied back and your eyes were sad and empty, and when you looked up at him, you dropped your phone onto your lap with a quiet huff. “Oh, you actually were ten minutes away,” you mumbled. “I thought you were lying.”

Anakin shook his head as he scanned the dark living room. It looked like you had been living in here since you got home. Water bottles, your mugs he teased you about on the day you moved in, and cracker boxes were scattered on the coffee table he and Vinny put together. “Why…why would I lie about that?” He rasped, stepping further into the room. “Why would I lie to you?”

You tore your eyes away from him and shrugged. “Because you’ve done it before,” you simply answered, looking back up at him with tears in your eyes. “You said you loved me. And that I was the person you wanted forever.”

“Baby,” he gasped and made it over to you in three strides. 

“Why are you home, Anakin?” You asked, making him stop a few centimeters away from the couch. And you. “Why are you here?”

Anakin felt hopeless and on edge. How was he supposed to fix this when he didn’t know where to start? “Because I love you. And I want you forever. Just you,” he answered. “I never lied about that.”

You bite down onto your lip and reach up to wipe at your eyes with your sleeves. “Um, Kenneth read my short story. I finished it on the flight back to London,” you tell him and he stood still, letting you say what you needed to. “He loved it. Um, he wants to get it published.”

“Y/n,” he said quietly, feeling so proud of you even though he was also feeling terrified. “That’s awesome, baby.”

You drop your hand onto your lap and look up at him with a heartbroken expression. “It’s about you,” you confess. “About us. About…how much I love you and…it’s our story, Anakin.”

Anakin’s shoulders dropped at that. You were so sweet and kind and too fucking good for him. He never deserved you. “Then publish it,” he mumbled, his own eyes welling up with tears. 

“I can’t,” you cry, covering your face with your hands. “It’s too much. It reminds me of us too much, and I don’t even know what we are anymore.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and dropped his head, unsure of what to say to that. How does he make this better? “I’m yours,” was all he could come up with. “Even if you’re not mine anymore.” 

Those words physically pained him to say, and they only made you more upset. “Fuck, Ani,” your voice broke as you called him the name he only ever let you call him. “Why are you back?”

Anakin cleared his throat and pressed the heel of his hand against his eyes. “Theo’s mom…she got worse and they don’t know if she’ll be okay or if she’ll make it,” he whispered, knowing that his friend wouldn’t be mad he told you that. Theo was your friend, too, after all. 

Your eyes widened at that and you sat up, sniffling as you began looking for your phone. “That’s…that..” you trailed off as you lifted the blanket and grabbed your phone. “I should call him. I should..call him and..” 

You were becoming less and less in control of yourself, and Anakin could see the way you were getting yourself worked up. “Hey,” he mumbled, grabbing your wrist as you started to stand up. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” you whispered and he saw tears roll down your face again. “Why wasn’t I good enough for you? What could I have done?”

A broken gasp left his lips and Anakin fell onto the couch next to you, pulling your body into his arms as you cried against his neck. “You’re enough,” he promised, cradling the back of your head and holding you tight. “You’re more than enough. Baby, you’re…you’re everything to me. My whole world. I’m so fucking sorry for what I did, for what I allowed to happen.”

You cried harder against him, bunching up the fabric of his shirt in your fists. 

“I should’ve been there for you. I should’ve been there to support you,” he mumbled against the top of your head. “I’m so proud of you, of everything you’ve done. I’m sorry if you feel like you can’t bring yourself to get your story published because of me. I don’t want you to hold yourself back because of me.”

You cling onto him and lift your head. “I don’t know what to do, Ani,” you sobbed. “Please, tell me what I should do. Please.”

He could see just how much you needed help, and how you needed to be guided right now. And he would help you for as long as you needed, even if it ended up with you kicking him out afterwards. “What will make you feel better? Do you want me to leave? I can give you some space or time or-”

“No, I don’t want that,” you shake your head and crawl onto his lap. 

“What do you want, princess?” He desperately asked. “What can I do?”

“I want things to go back to how they were,” you cried. “I want to feel like I did before when I look at you. It hurts, Ani. I can’t do this anymore.” 

Tears fell from his eyes and landed in your hair as he held you impossibly closer. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I love you. I’m sorry.”

You were shaking against him and he felt terrible. This was all his fault. “I want to hurt her,” you mumbled. “I hate her. I fucking hate her, Ani. I hate her for what she did to you.” 

“I hate her, too,” he pathetically agreed and you lift your head. 

“What are we going to do, Anakin?” 

He lifted his hand and smoothed out your messy hair, trailing his thumb down to your lip afterwards. “That depends,” he murmured. “Do you still want me? Could you ever forgive me?” 

You brace your hands on his shoulders and nod. “Maybe…eventually,” you answer. “I still want you.”

A breath of relief left his mouth, but he still wasn’t happy with himself. “I’m back home for a couple weeks, and I’m going to spend every single day making this up to you,” he promised. 

“Then you’re back on tour?” You quietly asked and looked down. “With her?”

“No,” he said quickly. “Helena said something about pressing charges before I came here, and I might go through with it. She won’t be there, I promise. She’ll never be around me or you or us again.” 

“Do it,” you encourage, grabbing the hair on the back of his neck with shaky fingers. “I don’t want her near you ever again. I hate her so much.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” his lips curved upwards just slightly as he gently massaged your hips. “That was quite the nose job you gave her.”

You laugh quietly, lifting your gaze to meet his. “I need to know that it was a mistake, Anakin,” you went back to being serious. “If you felt anything for her, even a little bit at all, I’m out.”

Anakin panicked and shook his head. “Never. I never felt anything for her,” he assured you. “She means nothing to me at all. You’re my girl, the one I want to be with for the rest of my life. I’ve known that since I was seventeen years old.”

You nod, trailing your fingers through his hair. “You promise?” You asked and he nodded instantly. “Okay…okay. Ani, these next couple weeks…I need this to be okay. Maybe not completely fixed, but…okay.”

“I’ll fix everything,” he swore, pulling you against his body again. “I promise you, I’m going to make everything okay again. I love you so much. I always will, you’re it for me. My one and only.”

You give him a small smile, tracing your fingers along his cheek before leaning up and kissing his jaw. “I love you,” 

Hearing you say that had his heart skipping a beat. “I’m so sorry. I’m going to fix this,”

Anakin kisses you all over your face before letting you sit in his lap for as long as you wanted to.

It wasn’t okay, what he did. He knew that. But he was going to make damn sure that he made everything right again. He had to.

-

Three weeks later…

Being back on stage after the brief break Anakin was given felt great. 

He loved being on stage, loved the lights and the screams of fans and the feeling he got from it all.

But it wasn’t what had him feeling so happy right now. 

Theo’s mom had pulled through and was getting better by the day, and was able to stay awake for most of the day now. When she regained control of her voice, she practically forced Theo to go back and finish the tour, and told him that she would be there when it was over. 

Vinny and Clara broke up, but are still friends, and Vinny decided to focus on music and the band. He had even started writing a few songs about the experience that he couldn’t wait to get out there. 

And as for Anakin, he was getting ready for a court date that was set for a few months from now. He did press charges against Liz, and though she claimed she was going to fight it, he knew he had a whole team behind him. There was no way she was winning this thing. 

And you. His sweet, beautiful and smart girlfriend. Well, he was gaining your trust back more and more as the days went on. You allowed Kenneth to send your story to his publisher, and it would be released by the end of the year. 

He was so proud of you, and when he began singing the first verse of Wrapped Around Your Finger, he glanced over to his right and saw you standing next to Helena backstage, a smile gracing your lips and the red rose he had given you before going on stage in your hand. He knew you were proud of him, too. 

And he knew things would be okay.

-

Goodbye, my Rockstar and Booknerd. Til we meet again.

Thank you to everyone who read and followed along with this series. I loved writing it so much ! And thank you to my sweets, @everydaydreamer for the original fic idea. Who would’ve thought we’d end up here?

[merrybloomwrites]

I Hear Them Calling (Chapter 3)

Story Summary: Alpha Harry Styles and omega Y/N Y/L/N meet under less than ideal circumstances. Overtime their paths will cross and they will be drawn to one another in ways they never expected.

Chapter Summary: Y/N & Harry reconnect at MSG night 12

Previous Chapters: Prologue ; Chapter 1 ; Chapter 2

Word Count: 2.4k

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next three weeks pass in a similar fashion for you. Work, chores, and hanging out with your best friends fills most of your time. You try not to depend on Harry’s scent, but the days where you don’t have your reminders of his smell around you turn out to be terrible days. The nightmares come back, and you’re restless all day. Plus, you feel way colder than you should in late August, so it just makes sense for you to be constantly drinking hot chocolate.

September 10th finally rolls around, and the first thing you do when you wake up is reread the email from Jada for the hundredth time. You still can’t believe what will happen that night, but there it is clearly written out for you.

Not only will you, Amelia, Violet, and Rachel be going to Harry’s concert, you have your own VIP section and you’re invited backstage before the show starts.

The girls all come over to get ready together. You all have some pizza and play Harry’s music while helping each other with your hair and makeup. After getting dressed you take some pictures together, wanting to document this night.

You spray on extra scent blockers, slipping the bottle into your purse so you can reapply later if needed. Rachel sees you do this and checks in with you, asking, “You okay? Are you nervous to go back there?”

“I’m good,” you reply. “I’m excited actually. It’s different this time. I’m more prepared, and I have you three with me. Plus, I’m pretty sure Amelia will rip the knot off any alpha who tries to mess with us.”

“I heard that!” Amelia shouts from the next room. “And yes. I absolutely will.”

You all laugh and grab your purses before heading to the car. Violet drives you all into the city, and you’re grateful for her fearlessness. No matter how experienced you are, you’ll never drive in New York unless you absolutely have to.

Once you get there, you follow the directions from Jada’s email, walking past the line of people waiting outside and heading straight for a side door. You speak with a security guard who checks your names on a list. He nods and calls over another security guard who leads you into the building.

You look at your friends and can tell they’re as amazed and excited as you are. Sure, you had the emails telling you that all of this would happen, that you’d be hanging out backstage before watching the concert from a private box, but it’s so surreal now that it’s actually happening.

Someone calls your name from the end of the hallway, and you smile when you see Jada walking towards your group.

“So glad you girls could make it!” she says, handing you all the badges you’ll need to wear that evening.

“We’re super excited to be here,” you reply.

She leads you all to a room filled with food and drinks and a number of other VIP guests.

“They’re still working on soundcheck so please enjoy some snacks and I’ll grab you guys to say hi to Harry in a bit,” Jada says quickly before walking back out of the room.

The four of you stand shocked for a moment.

“We’re meeting Harry?” Rachel asks incredulously.

“I guess so,” you answer.

“Like, all of us?” Violet questions.

“Seems that way,” you reply.

“He probably just wants to see his little omega again,” Amelia teases, earning an eye roll from Violet and a head shake from Rachel.

You laugh along, trying to cover your true reaction to hearing that. Because they have no idea how much you want that or how right it feels to be called his omega, even if you know that will never happen.

“Come on, I could use a water,” Violet says and the four of you grab some refreshments. After a little while Jada comes back and has the four of you follow her through the halls.

“We’re gonna make a quick stop first. Harry is finishing up on something but in the meantime you guys can meet the band,” Jada explains.

Entering the band dressing room is as overwhelming as it is thrilling. In the weeks since the last show you attended, you’ve watched numerous clips from the concerts. Most of the time you were focused on Harry, but you spent plenty of time admiring the talent of his band members as well.

They’re all incredibly welcoming, taking the time to talk to all of you. After a few minutes Sarah pulls you aside.

“I just wanted to check in and see how you’ve been the last few weeks,” she says.

You almost just give her a cheerful lie, saying you’ve been totally fine. But you can tell she isn’t simply asking to be polite. She cares. She truly wants to know how you’ve been.

“I’ve been okay. Not great, but I mean, not terrible,” you finally reply.

“What’s been going on?” she continues.

“Well, I’ve been having some pretty bad nightmares. You know, bad dreams about that alpha, and what happened, and what could have happened. And I’ve just been feeling a bit off, like, shaky and cold and restless. I think it’s probably the stress from that night. But I’ve found some ways to cope and they’re working so it’s not too bad.”

Sarah gives you a calculating look. You expect her to ask more questions, press you for more details, but instead she says, “We’re here for you, you know that right? Anything you need. We care about you.”

You’re almost thrown by the genuine compassion from a practical stranger. Sure, she saved you from a dangerous situation, but that still doesn’t explain why this big-time musician cared so deeply for you, just a regular person. And then you put yourself in her shoes for a second, imagining what she went through that night. Alphas, or at least good alphas, have an innate desire to help and protect omegas. Hearing your distress, seeing you cornered and nearly unconscious could not have been easy for her. But she stayed calm the whole time, handling the situation perfectly.

Before your emotions can get the better of you, you smile and say, “Thank you, so much. For everything you did that night and for being there for me now. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course, love. Would it be alright if I gave you a hug?”

You nod and she pulls you in. There’s a faint trace of her tea and ocean scent, and you repress your omega nature telling you to take a deep breath of the alpha smell.

As you pull away, Jada walks back into the room. She collects you and your friends and leads you down the hall. You recognize where you are now and start to grow more anxious and excited knowing that you’ll see Harry again soon.

You have no idea what to expect with this reunion. Will he still seem to care about you as much as he did last time? Will his alpha remember your omega and the connection that seemed to exist between the two? Or will it become glaringly obvious that everything was in your head, and he was just being nice and taking care of a fan in trouble? You figure it will probably be that last choice, that he’ll treat you just the same as he treats Violet, Amelia, and Rachel.

Finally, you reach the room, and Jada knocks, waiting to hear Harry’s response before opening the door and ushering your group inside. Suddenly feeling very shy, you stay behind your friends, like you’re trying to disappear. Harry introduces himself to the others and then he’s standing right in front of you.

Not wanting to be rude, you lift your face to greet him. He reaches out to shake your hand, saying, “Hello, Y/N, it’s good to see you again.”

You stutter out, “Nice to see you too,” while actively focusing on keeping your omega at bay. This simple touch is both electrifying and comforting, and it leaves you wishing for more. You bite back a whine and take a deep breath to center yourself.

This backfires, because now you can pick up Harry’s scent around you. He’s definitely wearing scent blockers again, but the smell has permeated some objects in the room. You know your beta friends are completely unaware of it, but it’s all you can focus on.

Harry invites you all to sit down and get comfortable. He spends time with your group, getting to know everyone, joking around, answering questions about himself and his music.

After a little while Jada comes back to lead you all to your seats since the opening act is about to start.

“It was lovely meeting you all. Jada, could you bring Rachel, Violet, and Ameila to the lounge and come back for Y/N? I wanted to speak with her for a minute. That is, if you’re comfortable with that,” Harry says.

The last part is directed at you, and everyone pauses to see your reaction.

“Yea, that’s fine with me,” you reply after a moment. Truthfully you’re nervous to be alone with him. Not because you’re uncomfortable or scared, but because you’re worried that you’ll somehow make a fool of yourself.

Everyone else leaves the room and Harry wordlessly motions to the couch. The two of you sit side by side, angled to face each other. It’s silent for a minute as you wait for him to say whatever is on his mind.

“I wanted to ask how you’ve been. I know what happened must have been pretty traumatizing for you. I almost got your number from Jada to text you, but I didn’t want to be pushy or nosey or anything,” he finally says.

You can’t help but smile as he rambles, completely endeared by this bashful alpha.

“First, you’re more than welcome to text me if you’d like.” You pause, surprised at how forward you just were. “And uhm, it’s been rough, but manageable. Some bad dreams. Some shakiness. Things like that.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

Douse some clothes in your scent so I can surround myself with it at all times, you think to yourself but somehow manage not to say it out loud.

What you reply instead is, “No, I think I have it under control.”

“Alright, if you’re sure. But please let me know if you need something. I know the idea that omegas need an alpha taking care of them is antiquated but I can’t help it when it comes to you.”

“Me?” you ask. “Like specifically? Or all omegas?”

He chuckles shyly and says, “To be fair I know very few omegas. But I’ve never really felt this protective over someone before. I couldn’t help but think about you the last few weeks. Worry about you, really.”

“Because I got hurt at one of your shows?”

“That’s part of it. But, ah, there’s more than that, I think.” You try not to get your hopes up, try not to think that maybe he likes you the way you like him. How could he? He’s a world-famous popstar and you literally sit at a computer and organize data all day. You don’t even have any fun hobbies. Literally nothing about you is interesting. You’re nothing like the girls he’s dated in the past.

He takes in your silence and continues, saying, “I feel connected to you. And I’d like to get to know you better. What I’d really like is to consider you a friend, rather than just an acquaintance.”

“I would like that too,” you reply calmly.

“In that case, would I be able to get your phone number?”

You bite back the squeal of excitement trying to escape and say, “Yes, of course you can.”

The two of you exchange numbers, and you take note of the coy smile on Harry’s face as you do so.

There’s a knock at the door and Jada pops in, letting you know she’ll be waiting in the hallway to show you to your seat. You and Harry both stand, and he says, “Y/N, it’s been wonderful seeing you again. I hope you enjoy the show.”

“Thank you again for the tickets, and for getting us backstage tonight.”

“My pleasure.” He opens his arms, inviting you in for a hug. It’s a new line you’re crossing, having only touched hands before, but you don’t even hesitate. His arms wrap around your shoulders as yours go to his waist. Your nose is dangerously close to his scent gland. You turn your head away from his neck in order to resist the temptation to take a deep breath searching for his delicious smell.

You force yourself to pull away before you get too comfortable in his embrace. The two of you share another shy smile before you grab your purse and head out to follow Jada.

The second you get to the private lounge your friends start asking questions, wanting to know every detail of your time alone with Harry. You tell them that he checked how you were doing, and that he wants to be friends. You also mention that you now have each other’s phone numbers.

“Oh my God, girl! That’s insane!” Rachel says.

“You can text Harry Styles. You can pick up your phone and call him, whenever you want,” Violet adds.

You laugh at their reactions and look at Amelia, surprised by her uncharacteristic silence. You laugh ever harder when you realize she’s literally stunned into silence.

Suddenly everyone in the venue starts screaming and you all redirect your attention to the stage as the show begins. It’s an amazing experience as you and your friends sing and dance along. More than once you think Harry is actually looking for you. He glances up to where you are as though searching the crowd to find you. He’s probably not, but you can’t help but hope that he is.

Violet drops you off at your home after the concert. You’re about to get into bed when your phone dings. A huge smile spreads across your face when you see a text from Harry saying, “Hope you enjoyed the show and got home safe! Sleep well.”

You think for a moment before replying, “You were fantastic! Thank you again. Good night!”

For the first time in weeks, you sleep peacefully through the night without any reminders of Harry’s scent in the room.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@theekyliepage@numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry@ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess@houseofdilfs@shaquille-0atmeal-1@kissitnhekitchen @amateurduck @poguestyleskye@n0vaj3an@snwells@drunk-teens-doing-drugs ; @fdl305@creativelyeva@daphnesutton@selluequestrian@lovingfurypanda @stardream14 @tbsloneely@eversincehs1 @boomitsallie1 @rose-garden-dreamz

[raindrop-21]

Scarred Love - Chapter One: You Look So Perfect Standing There

A/n: part one of a series that has an undecided amount of chapters

word count: 700

cw: Ghoap x reader, soulmates, lots of talk about scars, reader(21) is 10 years younger than Simon(31) and six years younger than Soap(27)

Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4, Ch5, Ch6, Ch7~ Masterlist

You had never liked the idea that the world had already predetermined who you were eternally connected with. You especially didn’t like the fact that whenever your soulmate got hurt, you got hurt too. They got hurt to the point it’d leave a scar? That scar stays on your body just as it would on theirs. By the time you were ten, there were already little scars decorating your arms and legs. You thought maybe your soulmate was just very clumsy or needed surgery.

At fifteen it seemed like the amount of scars had doubled, and gotten more spread out. There were now a number of scars on your neck, chest, back, stomach, arms, legs, and even a few on your face. You were in high school. Kids aren’t the nicest, at some point your scars had become a sense of shame for you. You hated your soulmate for giving you the scars.

After becoming homeschooled and going to therapy, you started worrying less about your beauty and more about what kind of job your soulmate could have for them to get this many scars. You hoped that they weren’t in the mafia or a gang. If they were, you’d want nothing to do with them. You want nothing to do with that kind of life.

At twenty you stopped caring. You figured that if you were supposed to find your soulmate, you would’ve by now. There are so many scars on your body that if you saw someone with a few of the many scars you’re oh-so-familiar with, you’d know that it was them instantly. 

At twenty-one, the idea of finding your soulmate is a distant thought, in your mind as of right now. Currently, you’re in Europe as part of an international girls' trip with your friends. You’re at the bar, ordering a strawberry-lemonade mimosa, waiting for your friends to return from the bathroom and order their drinks. As you wait, you see a group of four men walk through the door of the bar. You look at them in slight confusion and awe. Confusion because they look like they’re supposed to be in the military. Awe because you can’t help but admire their bodies, they are very well built and their compression shirts leave little to the imagination about the upper bodies.

The bartender notices you staring at them and decides to inform you about who they are.

“Those fine gentlemen over there are from a military base not too far from here. They come here pretty often.” He explains with a warm smile.

“Thanks.” You say politely with a just as polite smile and go back to drinking your mimosa.

A few minutes later, you look back at the group of military men, and to your absolute surprise you see not one, but two men with scars on their faces and arms that match yours. Your jaw goes slack at the sight. You never expected to meet your soulmate, let alone there be two. One of your friends, Eve, returns from the bathroom and notices you staring at the four men. By some unlucky luck, the two that you think are your soulmates have turned in the opposite direction, and now both of their scars are non-visible.

“Oooh~ Look at you~! Getting an eye full of some hot eye candy!” She teases with a giggle.

You look over at her with a serious expression, which catches her off guard.

“What’s wrong?” She asks concernedly.

“Those aren’t just some hot guys….I think they’re my soulmates…” You mumble, not sounding too sure of yourself as you’ve never heard of one person having two soulmates.

She looks back at you, before looking at the men again, the two you saw with the scars have turned back around. Your friend can see their scars, and she looks back at you, shell-shocked.

“Soulmates? Two? Plural?” She asks sounding more shocked than you do.

“I think so yeah…” You say with wide eyes, your hands slightly trembling at the sight of them. You can’t help but think about how perfect they look standing there and how much more perfect it’d be with you next to them. “Should I go talk to them?”

[ninapi]

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ First Born❜ (Halloween Special)┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

Premise: Being an older brother once more was beyond exhilarating for Choso, he never expected though to find love by his little brother's side, his pretty and kind childhood friend bringing a softness into his life he didn't know it was possible one Halloween night.

Word Count: 3243

Note: this is a Semi AU, meaning the characters are who they are in the series, yet the timeline doesn’t match the original story.

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

Choso has been a big brother since he can remember, that’s his number one trait and the one he is more proud of in general.

Therefore, loosing his two younger brothers continues to sting to this day.

Gaining a ‘new brother’ or finding a ‘lost brother’ which ever you wanna call it, gave him a new sense of purpose, a new reason to live and continue growing as a person.

His number one flaw though, was how unemotional he was. 

To Yuuji, Choso was embarrassing. 

He never gets the jokes, more like he can’t even laugh on his own like if his face muscles were forever stiff, a spoon could get social cues better than him; he says the most embarrassing things at the worst timing too and this brings us to this moment.

Yuuji had been flirting with the girl that worked a part time at the donut shop close by for about a month. He would always stop by and buy even if it was just one donut to munch on his way to school just so he could see her smile for a couple of minutes; he even went as far as to ask for her number last time he was there; though today, Choso tagged along and was currently glaring at said beauty for getting ‘too close’ to his brother. “What is it that you want woman? I won’t let you get your smitten paws over my little brother, you hear me? You won’t ever understand how precious he is, must be protected at all cost.”

“Oh my god…just what do you think you’re doing?? Ruining my life?? Didn’t I tell you to stay outside with Fushiguro??” 

“Itadori-kun, I think your brother is right, I don’t think I can handle such a precious boy….” the girl couldn’t hold her laugh any longer, same thing as her co-workers who witnessed the scene.

“That’s it. I’m never taking you out again. Do you know how long I’ve been trying to get her to even look at me??” Yuuji was so disheartened, he opted to sit down on the sidewalk, contemplating the meaning of life while hating on his new older brother.

“I…I was just trying to-“ 

“I know, I know…just trying to be a good older brother…But have you stopped for a second and think that maybe not everyone wants to hurt me? I’m strong enough to defend myself, a pretty little thing like her wouldn’t even dream of hurting anything but my heart…” he sniffs dramatically, burying his face on his hands.

“You can die immediately if someone hurts your heart, idiot…”

This was the last drop of patience within him, “NOT literally, OK? I don’t mean my internal organ, I mean the feelings side of the heart!!”

“That’s not in your heart but your brain. You can also die if someone hurts you there-“

“Just stop talking!!!” Megumi and Nobara were both laughing their asses off at their banter, truth is Nobara saw the girl flirt with at least four different guys in just a week, she had been trying to warn her friend about her, so it was actually a good thing having dense Choso around to break the spell she had on him; that didn’t make it any less funny though.

“Itadori don’t be so hard on him, he’s pouting again.”

“I am not doing such thing-“

“Yes you are, man…” Megumi let out a deep sigh, walking on the opposite direction wanting nothing to do with the loud display of idiocy in front of him.

“Hey Fushiguro! Where are you going? We still need to discuss our plans for the party!” Yuuji yelled after him a little too loud, causing Megumi to flinch and return just to shut him up. “There’s nothing to discuss…Just be there around 9PM, you have to wear a costume or they won’t let you in, those are the rules.”

“Did you choose one already? I never pegged you for someone who’d like halloween parties~” giggling, Nobara elbowed Yuuji on the ribs wanting him to team up with her to tease their friend.

“I bet he’ll wear something ridiculous, like one of those giant carrot costumes.” bursting out laughing, both held each other from collapsing on the ground imagining carrotgumi.

“For your information, I will go as a vampire…I found dubious objects in a closet in Gojo-sensei’s, I mean back in the house…so I brought them with me for this party. Not like I want to go or anything but Maki-san threaten to shave my head in my sleep if I didn’t go…”

“Bald carrotgumi….” after one more outburst of intense laughter, the team bullying ended for the best. “I need a costume, would you go buy one with me, Kugisaki?”

All this time Choso has been quietly observing the entire thing. He knows his brother literally just said he wouldn’t take him out with him ever again, but he really wanted to prove him he could do better, that he wasn’t an embarrassment and that he was the best older brother there was to have, this was his chance. “Guys…do you think…do you think I can come with you…?” 

“No, never, non, forget about it.”

“B-but…”

“Listen, you just ruined my life! How do you even think I would take you with me again?”

“Poor guy, just let him come, Itadori…he always brings the funniest of conversations out. I like him.” Choso perked up a little at the support he was getting, even if he knew all she wanted was to mock his brother, at least someone wanted him there.

“Oh c’mon….What if he ruins it again?” 

“Just leave (Y/N) in baby sitting duty. She likes lost causes…” shrugging she started making her way to the costume shop, both of them tagging along.

“(Y/N)? I mean yes she does take recycling to an intense level and saves stray cats, but this is…this is something else, Kugisaki…” Choso’s lip was quivering once more, not wanting to face rejection for a third time on the same day by the person he wishes to please the most.

“Ok then how about we do this…” leaning close to Yuuji’s ear she whispers her plan with the most mischievous grin anyone has ever seen in their lives. To this Yuuji laughs for what feels like hours, having to stop in his tracks to wipe his tears away and calm down. “Ok, ok let’s ask him…” going over to his older brother, Yuuji bats his eyelashes prettily up at him, “Nii-chan…you can go…if you go dressed as the carrot Fushiguro isn’t wearing…”

Choso just nodded eagerly, not fully understanding what he was getting himself into. 

“Also, I won’t let you follow me around, I wanna get a girl in my bed by tonight, and you can’t stop me. I’ll ask my best friend to look after you. Understood?” this definitely wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted bonding time with his brother, have a nice time, maybe drink one of those beers he introduced him to the other day, not having to stay behind away from the fun dressed as a commonly disliked vegetable…but it was the chance he was looking for to prove he could behave.

“Is that a yes? Or-?”

“Yes, I will go.” Nobara was on her phone browsing for carrot costumes, not long after running on her way to the shop.

This would be a long night..

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

The night was young, every known sorcerer and their friends and family were invited to this party.

Yuuji chose to dress as werewolf, while Nobara went dressed as a sexy nurse.

Choso though…let’s just say the carrot outfit didn’t suit him that well…

Wanting to get rid of him as soon as possible, Yuuji stopped you right at the entrance with a big grin plastered on his face. “(Y/N) my darling! My bestie! The light that shines above us…!”

“What do you want now-“ he was being too obvious, he only acts this way when he wants either money or nasty favors.

“Have you met my brother yet?”

“Your what-? I’ve lived next door my entire life and I’ve never seen a brother of yours-“ covering your mouth almost instantly, he glared at you, trying to get you to play along.

“O-oh…yes your brother! You told me about him the other day. No, I haven’t had the pleasure to meet him yet!” smiling on his direction, you walked over to him, taking both of his hands in yours.

“Hi! I’m (Y/N), it’s nice to finally meet you! By the way, what an adorable outfit you brought today! I wish I knew about them before, then we could have been two carrots instead of just one!” giggling at how good you were handling his worst nightmare, Yuuji sneaks away without you noticing; thing is, not only did you not notice, but neither did Choso, and that had never happen before.

“They also had tomatoes and an eggplant, but that one was too little, it would probably fit you though.” He nodded in thought, unable to figure out why the thought of you dressed like a tiny eggplant sounded so appealing. Was this why his brother wanted him to be a carrot? Did he actually look cute?

“I would have loved to be an eggplant! We could take a bunch of pictures, probably even win the costume contest!” your soft laughter brought a smile to his face, he’s never been treated this nicely before.

“What are you supposed to be though?” he eyed you from head to toe, making you blush. “I’m Godzilla~” you posed, letting out a cute little roar, his heart skipped a beat, cuteness has never been his thing but he could see the appeal of it now.

“I apologize, I do not know what that is, but it’s certainly cuter than an eggplant. They don’t make sounds...” his comment made you giggle giddily, why did Yuuji dislike him this much? He’s such a sweetheart…

“Hmm Godzilla is…a monster…he destroys cities and kicks buildings.” you tried your best to imitate it properly, earning a smile from him once more, making you feel accomplished.

“So like a curse? I’m half curse-” he looked at you with his eyes wide opened in realization.

“Nah, more like a cute big animal lost in a city full of ants.” he nods at this, before pointing to a table by the door. “They had animal shaped cookies in a bowl over there.” he didn’t know why but he felt the need to make you smile some more, to make you feel comfortable in his presence unlike the rest of his brother’s friends and seemed like you liked animals enough to dress like one.

“Do they? I bet they’re adorable. Would you like to eat some with me?” the way your eyes twinkled at this little piece of information made his stomach feel hollow, but it wasn’t a bad feeling, he kind of wanted to feel more of this, so he went over the table and poked all the cookies from the bowl until he was sure he’s gotten at least one of every single animal available in it. 

Megumi, who was sitting at the top of the stairs hiding from a drunk panda who was trying to get him to kiss his cousin, saw the entire scene unfold, and decided to intervene before Itadori ruined his moment if he caught him. “Choso…stop touching all the food just grab a handful she’ll like it anyways, trust me.” to his advice he nodded gratefully, making sure to grab some drinks as well.

“Here, I couldn’t find the elephant, I was sure I saw one when I went by that table earlier, apologies for not getting you the complete set. I got you some melon soda though, I hope you like it.” the back of his neck felt hot, he continued wondering why he wanted to please you this bad, is not like you were his little sister, not like he wanted you to be his sister- he wouldn’t be able to last a day before dying of cuteness overload.

“Don’t worry! I’m sure Mr.elephant found a nice home in someone else’s belly.” chuckling you grabbed a little bear cookie and pressed it to his lips, “Try it! It’s yumyum~” you danced happily at the taste, wanting to share the joy a good high quality cookie can bring to someone’s life.

To this he just gave out a short nod, getting the entire cookie into his mouth. This was all so new to him, was this why his brother kept insisting in taking a girl to his bed?

What would they even do there?

He would like to take you to his and eat elephant shaped cookies, maybe even talk a little, or watch a movie, he’s been really into them since his brother introduced him to horror films.

“Hey (Y/N) would you like to go to my room? It’s a bit far but we could walk there-“ before he could continue his sentence, a shoe came flying straight to his face, Megumi coming to pull him to the side, “I’m borrowing him for just a second (L/N), be right back.” 

He took Choso outside, away from prying eyes, a deep scowl on his face, “What on earth are you doing? You spend too much time with Itadori, he’s rubbing on you…”

“I thought you’re supposed to take nice girls to your bed…”

“I..ugh..WhAT? Who told you that? Never mind don’t answer…” letting out a long sigh he plops down on a bench prompting Choso to the same. “Look, man…it is true I guess, though the order is wrong. Remember how your brother talked to the same girl for months just to get her to like him?” nodding his head he was taking mental notes, Megumi rarely took his time to teach him anything, this must not go to waste.

“When you think a girl is nice or cute, pretty even. When she’s nice to you as well and you feel like you want more of her…” his nodding intensified, it was as if he was reading his mind, describing just how he was feeling that same moment.

“You have to treat her right, make nice things for her, be patient, don’t do anything impulsive. Girls are more delicate, you can’t be rough with them. Got it?”

“I knew it. I should have looked for that elephant cookie some more…” 

A rare smile appeared on Megumi’s face, Choso has been nothing but a pain to them when it doesn’t come to fighting, but he’s never seen this soft side of him, or maybe he had, just that Itadori always shuts him down unlike you.

“Yeah well, maybe next time you can buy her a bag, I’m sure the elephant will be there.” his eyes opened widely, he hadn’t thought about that, fantastic idea.

“You’re a great guy, Fushiguro, I appreciate your advise. I can be your older brother too, if you ever need one...” with a small smile on his face, Megumi walked away back to his room, he'd have enough of this party already.

“Go back to her, before someone steals her away~” running back inside, his heart came back to his body when he saw you patiently waiting for him inside, fidgeting with your fingers.

“I have returned. Fushiguro just told me we can find the elephant cookie if I get you a new pack of cookies. Would you like to go buy one with me?”

“Right now?” that smile of yours will end up causing him heart failure, he was sure of that now.

“Or later, when you have time, if you want that is…we can also go back for the eggplant dress, if you’re tired of being Godzilla.” It was pretty obvious to you by now that he was trying to get you out of this party, you weren’t what others would call a 'party animal’, you only went because your best friend called you over; the same best friend who’s been flirting with every single girl in the room and has not addressed you for the longest time.

“I think they sell them in the supermarket down the street, lets go~!” pulling him by his hand, you both walked in silence as none of you knew what to say.

“So, how is Yuuji as a younger brother? If he’s mean to you tell me, I will kick his ass…” you knew your bestie, he could be really sweet as much as he can be a real ass when he wants to be.

“He’s great. I wish we could get along better though…but it’s hard to know what he wants. I wished everyone would be happy with animal cookies…”

“I think it’s easy getting along with you though. You’re sweet and gentle, funny too.” Choso has never been complimented before, not like this at least…was this what his brother called ‘flirting’?

“I…well I think you are all those things too…nobody has ever treated me this nice before…” his comment managed to sadden you more than anything, stopping you on your tracks to place a hand on his cheek gently.

“Then how about we see each other some more? I need you to see how special you are.” your smile was so bright, so comforting…his chest ached but in a pleasant way, he kind of wanted to rip his own heart out just to see the chemical reaction occurring within his body in this very second, his blood even felt more powerful, he could kill Gojo Satoru right now, he was sure of it. But all he wanted was to count cookies with you while looking at the night sky.

“Can we? See each other again? I mean after the cookies...?”

“Of course! Lets do all sorts of things together! Have you ever been to a theme park? Maybe I can get the eggplant costume and we could both go dressed as vegetables, that’d be fun!” your arm wrapped around his as you walked towards the supermarket.

“I’ve never been to one, no.”

“Then we totally have to go! We could play some video games too! Oh and we definitely need to go to that new crepe place down town, I heard you need a reservation and all!”

“Why do you want to go with me to all those places?” he was honestly confused, he’s been facing so much rejection that this fuzzy feeling in his chest was starting to cause some concern.

“That’s what friends do, right? Besides, I think you’re really cute…maybe…we could…you know…one of those days we go out…only if you’d like of course…we could maybe say it’s a date?” you smiled nervously up at him, he’s never seen such beauty in his entire life, not even the drawing his little brother made for him when they were little was this pretty. “I would like that very much…”

Being the first born of four brothers had its benefits as much as it has its flaws, but tonight he was sure of one thing, he was glad of getting in his little brothers nerves enough to get him to dump him with the cutest girl his eyes had ever lay on.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

Masterlist