#but if you say something bad about one of them in front of the other

[reysdriver]

Apple Of My Eye | E.M.

You and your coworker Eddie finally do something about your longtime mutual crush when he asks you out after a wild day at work — line cook!eddie x waitress!reader fluff

warnings: customer service nightmares, reader cries over it, I think that's it actually

words: 4.8k

The last thing you heard before shutting the walk-in freezer door behind you was a pan dropping to the floor and Eddie cursing loudly at no one in particular. You sat down with your back against a sack of potatoes beside the vegetable shelf. 

The tears that pricked at your eyes were free to run down your face now that you were in the privacy of the walk-in. It’s always been a good place to cry or scream if you were frustrated at work. 

You were slightly startled by the heavy door opening, but you knew you shouldn’t be; other people worked here too, of course. 

It was Eddie walking in, looking frustrated, though his expression softened when he locked eyes with you. 

“Are you okay? What happened?” He asked, letting the door close as he sat down next to you.

You scooted a bit to make more room for Eddie, but still brushed him off.

“I’m okay.” You sniffled, looking down at your feet. “Don’t you have a whole bunch of orders to fill?”

“You know I’m never too busy for you.” He replied, which earned a smile from you. 

It was a true thing, Eddie would always take the time, even in the busiest of rush hours, to compliment you, or make you a special plate of fries, or just let you know that your makeup had smudged in all the haste. 

He never did it with anyone else, not to the same level, at least. All your coworkers used that as proof that he had a thing for you in the same way that you did for him, but you never believed them. 

“So, what’s wrong, sweetheart?”

There he goes, using that nickname that makes your heart soar. Now how could you not answer him after he asked as nicely as that?

“Some asshole got mad at me ‘cause I forgot he asked for no vegetables on his burger. He was calling me dumb and saying I’m a bad waitress and—”

“You’re not.” Eddie told you. “Don’t listen to him.”

 One look at Eddie’s pretty brown eyes told you he was being completely sincere, but you were still upset. 

“He was so mean, and he was kind of right.” You protested. 

Eddie shook his head. “Trust me, he’s not. You’re the only coworker I can stand, so you must be doing something right. Plus you just got your degree, so you’re not dumb.”

“It was community college, Eddie.”

“More than I have. Are you calling me dumb?” He nudged you slightly as he teased, and he was finally cheering you up. 

“No.” You shook your head, a bashful smile starting on your face. 

“Good.” He smiled too, happy that his mission of cheering you up was complete. “Now, I would wipe your tears, but my hands are probably covered in oil so I’m gonna need you to do it for me, okay?”

You nodded and used your index finger to wipe the tears under your eyes and on your cheeks. 

The line cook had his eyes trained on you when you looked up back at him, your eyes still glossy but your spirits higher. 

“How are you feeling now?”

“Better.” You admitted with a soft smile. “Thank you, Eddie.”

“Anytime, princess.” He attempted to stifle a groan as he stood up, then stopped before opening the metal door. “I’ll tell Robin to cover your tables for a bit, so don’t worry about getting back to work. You can stay here as long as you want.”

After thanking him again, he flashed you a smile before exiting the freezer room. 

You stayed sitting there, replaying the conversation you just had once over in your head. Once you felt you were composed, you dusted off your clothes and reentered the kitchen. 

Though, as soon as you left the freezer, you could hear shouting coming from the front of house and you knew exactly who it was. 

See, after Eddie left the freezer, when you were busy wiping your tears, Eddie rifled through the receipts to find exactly the guy who made you cry. Not that he needed it anyways, it was obvious who the asshole was when he walked out to the tables and saw some angry looking loser picking at his french fries. 

Now Eddie was in the middle of shaming the man in front of the whole diner. 

Customers had their heads turned to watch the public scolding, and all the staff had paused their duties to stare from the sides of the room as well. 

“What the hell’s the matter with you? You’re a grown man and you can’t even bear to pick some tomatoes off your burger? You need to whine about the lingering taste of fuckin’ lettuce and make your poor waitress feel like shit?!” Eddie shouted at the guy you were serving. “You better give her one hell of an apology, you hear me?!”

The man nodded pathetically, clearly shaken by the cook’s rant. He probably couldn’t muster up an agreement even if he tried. 

Robin, who you had stood next to while watching Eddie chew that customer out, turned to you. She hardly looked flustered at all, since she was used to the diner’s usual activities. 

“And you still doubt that he likes you back.” She whispered with a smugly raised eyebrow. 

Eddie looked around the room for a moment and noticed you were there. With an outstretched hand and a soft voice, he beckoned you towards him and the man at the booth. 

“Sweetheart, can you come over here for a second?” He asked, ever so politely. 

You obliged and walked over to him, holding your breath as the threat of crying again was still there. 

Standing at the end of the table, Eddie’s gaze panned from you to the slightly terrified man sitting down. 

“Now’s the time for that apology, dickwad.” Your coworker gritted. 

The man struggled to look you in the eyes as he stuttered out some words of regret. “I’m sorry— Er, I’m sorry for complaining about the burger and saying all that rude stuff, too. I shouldn’t have taken out my anger on you.”

The line cook looked over at you, gauging your reaction. “How was that?”

You nodded and flashed him a tiny smile, then told the customer that you accepted his apology. 

“Good.” Eddie declared. “Now I’ll go make you a plain, boring burger. And if you’re really sorry then this pretty girl better see a damn good tip when you finish your meal, got it?”

The man nodded meekly once again, and Eddie seemed satisfied with that. He walked back on over to the kitchen while you made your way to your other tables, and the rest of the diner resumed eating and conversing—definitely discussing what just happened.

For the rest of his meal, the man was nice to you. Avoidant for sure, but nice nevertheless. And when he paid, he left a whopping twenty dollar tip and left in a hurry. 

Now that the lunch rush was over, you checked the kitchen for Eddie, then Jonathan informed you that he was out back taking a smoke break. 

You thanked him, and headed to the back exit of the building where you knew the cook spent a part of every shift. Sure enough, he was standing right next to the door with a cigarette in hand. 

“Hey, princess,” Eddie said, exhaling a cloud of smoke away from you. “what are you doing back here?”

You smiled at him and fished the twenty dollar bill out of your pocket to display it. “That guy you yelled at left me a pretty nice tip. Here, it’s yours.”

He shook his head and held out a hand to gesture that he couldn’t take it. “No way, you deserve it. Fuckin’ least you should get after having to deal with that asshole.”

You laughed at his dismissal and tried offering again. 

“Come on, you practically mugged that guy to get this money, you have to take it.”

He looked at you with a slight grin, but you couldn’t decide if his expression was that of smugness or entertainment. 

“You can hold out that cash until your wrist falls off, I won’t take your money.”

You let out an exasperated sigh, sincere but still purposefully overdramatic. You put the bill back in your apron and quickly counted out ten ones that you had earned from other tables, then held those out instead. 

“You should at least have half. I can’t let you leave with nothing. If you don’t take it now, I’ll follow you around all day, begging you to take it.” 

Eddie cocked his head to the side and smiled. “As tempting as that is, sweetheart, I can’t steal you away from your job like that. I’ll take that money, but I’ll be spending it on you.” 

Your heart fluttered at Eddie’s flirting, which was far less subtle than usual. You had to bite the tip of your tongue to prevent yourself from grinning ear-to-ear. 

He reached out to take the cash, but he was still grinning mischievously. 

“With my half of the cash, I wanna take you on a date, if you’ll let me.”

Holy shit. You never thought he’d ask. And you had expected even less that he would ask in such a gentlemanly manner. Eddie was the type of guy to accidentally tell his boss to fuck off after coming into work hungover, not use the phrase ‘if you’ll let me’. 

“I’d like that.” You responded, way more chill than you had expected your reaction to be. “Anything you have in mind?”

“You trying to expose the fact that I’ve thought about this before?” Eddie smirked, which in turn caused you to blush even more than before. “What time do you get off work tonight?”

“Seven, and you?”

“Same. We can rent a movie and I can make you dinner at my place?” 

Shit, Eddie thought, I don’t remember the state I left my trailer in. 

He tried recalling how messy he left his home, quickly so he could take back the offer if needed. 

“Yeah, sounds great.” 

Too late now. But as nervous as he was for you to walk into his trailer and see a bunch of dirty dishes and laundry piles, the feeling of glee he felt because you said yes was trumping that a hundred times over. 

“Perfect.” Eddie said, stamping out his burnt cigarette. He opened the door back to the restaurant and held it open so you could go first. “After you.”

“Thanks.” You said, barely able to hide your giddy grin. “I gotta get back to my tables, but I’ll see you at seven.”

You both parted ways with matching smiles, hoping the rest of your shifts fly by faster than usual. For the rest of the day, you seemed to have an extra pep in your step while you waited tables. 

As seven o’clock approached, you passed off all your tables to other coworkers, told Steve and Robin you wouldn’t need a ride home, and headed to the washroom to fix your hair and touch up your makeup. 

Once you were satisfied, you headed to the locker room, where Eddie was standing casually against his own locker. His bored expression morphed into a bright look when he saw you walk in. 

“Hey.” Eddie said as you opened your locker and put away your apron. “Ready to go?” 

You nodded, and he opened the door for you once again. Such a gentleman when he wants to be. 

“So, any movie ideas?” He asked as you both got into his van. 

“Something fun.” You told him. “Maybe something like Ferris Bueller's Day Off or Splash?” 

“Anything you want.”

For the ride over to the video store, you listened to the radio—a station with both pop and rock—and chatted about everything under the sun. 

Once you got to Family Video, you headed towards the comedy section whereas Eddie got distracted by a display of staff picks near the front. He called your name, and you turned around to see him holding up The Texas Chain Saw Massacre with a simper. 

“This can be fun, don’t you think?”

You shook your head. “Not if we’re eating tonight. I’ll throw up everywhere. And that’s not the kind of thing that earns a second date.”

He put it down and walked towards the aisle you were standing in. “So you’re already thinking about a second date, huh?” 

You rolled your eyes and went back to browsing the shelves. Your eyes landed on a familiar favourite, so you grabbed it and held it up to show Eddie. 

“Clue, huh?” He raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said you couldn’t do murder movies?”

“No, I just said I couldn’t do that one. This one is hilarious and agreeable.”

“Alright. Hand it over, I already promised to pay for whatever you want.”

You give the tape to him like he asked and you both walk over to the cashier, a teenager who looked extremely disdainful about his job. Eddie pulled out some of the cash you had made him take earlier and placed it on the counter. 

Once the transaction was over, you thanked both Eddie and the bored worker, then you headed back out to Eddie’s car. 

“So, what meal are you going to spend the remaining five dollars and something cents on?” You asked him, buckling yourself as he rolled out of the parking lot. 

Eddie always hated his seatbelt, but he put it on after you—’cause of that damn new law they put in last year.

“I’ll put that in my pocket and save it for the next date. I already have all I need for dinner at home.”

You hummed, slightly surprised. 

“What?” 

“Nothing.” You shrugged. “I just wouldn’t have pegged you as a chef outside of the diner. You always seem like you’re done with cooking forever when you clock out.”

“You’ve got me there.” Eddie responds. “I only cook at home when it’s for someone else. When I’m alone, my meals are mostly toast and canned pasta.”

“So who else were you planning on cooking for? You said you have all those ingredients.” That was half teasing, half genuinely curious about Eddie’s personal life. 

“My uncle, actually. I cook him dinner once a week, mostly ‘cause it proves to him that I can eat healthy.”

“That’s really sweet.”

“What can I say?” Eddie shrugged dramatically. “I’m just a sweet guy.”

Once you arrived at Eddie’s trailer, he was relieved to open the door and see that his place hadn’t been left in shambles. The place wasn’t as neat as he would like for a first date—especially one with you—but it was good enough. 

“So, this is it.” Eddie said, arms outstretched like a real estate agent. “You want a tour or is that just for stuffy old people?”

“I’ll take a tour.”

Eddie was kind of hoping you didn’t say that. The trailer was small and he was a little embarrassed. But he supposed it was his own fault for asking in the first place. 

“Alright. Here’s the living room, it’s where I smoke and watch TV.” 

You let out a giggle at the bluntness of his tour. He was glad his joke (half-joke) didn’t fall flat. 

“And you can follow me three feet to the kitchen, which is where I make good meals for others and crap for myself.”

He opened a cupboard full of canned food and snacks for the realtor effect, then did the same with the fridge. He waved a hand near it like a magician showing off a box that no longer contains a woman in a sparkly leotard. 

“We can then move on to the bathroom. It’s got a shower with mediocre water pressure, a pretty average toilet, and a sink that’s covered in toothpaste—don’t look at that, actually.”

You kept walking to the only other real room in the trailer, his bedroom. It was about the size of the kitchen area, and it was very distinctly Eddie. All the walls were covered floor-to-ceiling in posters for metal bands and movies he likes, every surface was covered in snack boxes and ashtrays, and he had one incredibly cool guitar hanging in the middle of his wall. 

After staring at the room for so long that you probably had at least one wall memorised, you and Eddie both realised you hadn’t spoken in a while. 

“This is where the magic happens.” Eddie said, not quite as smoothly as he was going for. 

“The magic?” You teased. 

He thought for a second, then clarified. “Not that kind of magic. I just make music and write Dungeons & Dragons campaigns.”

“That can be pretty magical.” You shrugged. 

“Yeah, but not as magical as the dinner I’m about to make for you. If you’re not excited already, you should start.”

You both left his bedroom and Eddie instructed you to relax in the living room and turn on the TV to something you could use as a backdrop while Eddie cooked. 

While he made dinner, you sat comfortably on his couch and chatted with him from the other room. You got to know each other, more than you do at work. Eddie told you about his band and how they play at The Hideout, you told him about your time at community college and your friends outside of the diner. 

“Alright, soup’s on.” Eddie announced, setting two plates on his kitchen table and inviting you over. “Actually, it’s not soup, it’s chicken parm.”

“I appreciate the clarification.” You sat down in the seat closest to you. “It looks good. Smells amazing too.”

And it really was as amazing as it seemed. Although you were no stranger to Eddie’s cooking, all you’ve ever had made by him was diner food. Of course, the diner food was great, but this was another level. You weren’t sure what set it apart; maybe it was just the quality ingredients and lack of yelling while cooking. 

Once your plate was almost empty, Eddie asked if you wanted dessert too. You were slightly confused as you hadn’t seen him make any dessert to go along with the meal, but you agreed anyway. 

“Did you make dessert?” You asked after he stood up. 

“Nope, but I’ve got all the ingredients, so I can make it now.”

“Oh.” You suddenly felt bad, even though he already offered and went through with making you food. “Well, I don’t want to put you out. We can just watch—”

“It’s okay. I don’t have the ingredients for anything fancy. Just the simple stuff.”

That made you feel a little better. You were still curious, but for a different reason now. What could Eddie make quickly to pair with that fantastic dinner. 

You watched as he pulled out Oreos and gummy worms. Was he making a child’s favourite snack as your dessert?

“What are you planning there?” You asked him. 

Then you saw him open the fridge and pull out chocolate pudding cups, then it all clicked in your head. 

Holy shit. Worms and Dirt. 

That was absolutely not what you were expecting, but it was definitely a welcome surprise. 

“I was thinking about just serving up sliced apples and peanut butter along with some cheesy pick-up line like ‘you’re the apple of my eye’, but I figured that would scare you away.” 

“I don’t think that would scare me away.” You told him. “In fact, I would have found it cute. But I’m happy with the pudding.”

Eddie was quite flattered by that, though he tried hard to not let it show. You could definitely see a blush on his cheeks and the corners of his lips turning upwards, as much as he covered it up.

“You ever had Worms and Dirt?” He asked, opening up the Oreo pack. 

“Yeah.” You answered from your seat at the table while he scraped off the cookie filling. “My mom used to make it for me when I was a kid.”

Eddie stopped preparing the food for a second as he turned and gave you a genuine smile. 

“Me too.” 

After that, Eddie went back to making the dessert, the happy expression still lingering on his lips. 

“I’m almost done, do you want to pop the movie in while I’m finishing up?”

You nodded, then waltzed over to the living room to start up Clue. While the opening credits rolled, Eddie took a seat next to you on the couch and spread out a couple bowls and several pudding cups on his coffee table. 

He handed you a spoon and gestured to the setup in front of you two. 

“I figured we could do like a make-your-own thing, just ‘cause I always find one is never enough, and then you can choose your portions, you know?”

You hummed in agreement. “It’s a pretty good idea.”

Eddie then pointed to the bowl in between the cookie crumble and gummy worms. Inside that one was the creme filling he had just scraped out of the Oreos. 

“Oh, and that’s for you.” 

Just like Eddie earlier, you were super flattered but didn’t want to show your cards. You thanked him for saving you the best part, and then the two of you made your desserts and brought your attention to the movie. 

Somewhere along the way while watching it, you and Eddie had moved from your spots on opposite ends of the couch to meeting somewhere in the middle, wrapped up with each other. 

You were pressed against his side with a hand on his back and an arm around his abdomen. He had his arm slung around your shoulder, and you liked it. He liked it too. And truth be told, you had both pictured yourself before in this exact position—among others. 

As Wadsworth dramatically ran through each murder and event of the night, Eddie subtly looked down to see your entertained expression trained on the TV screen. 

Even though Eddie quite liked the movie you were watching, he liked you more. He was trying to think of a way to make a bigger move on you instead of actually paying attention. 

He was about to do it too. Just as his hands started to wander, there was a knock at his front door that caused you both to back off of each other and turn your heads that way. 

“It’s probably just some kid looking for weed. I’ll be back in a second, you don’t need to pause it.” Eddie told you as he stood up.

“Okay. Hurry up or you’ll miss the ending!” You told him. 

He opened the door and sure enough, it was a kid looking for weed. Some high schooler, maybe seventeen years old. In one hand, he had a couple crumpled bills, and the other one was in his pocket. 

“Someone told me to come here for… stuff.” The kid said to Eddie. 

“Okay, how much do you want?” Eddie replied. 

The boy looked confused, thinking it through. 

“I don’t know.” He finally answered. “I was just told to bring money.” 

“Okay, well I’ve got someone over and you’re wasting my time a little bit. How about you just hand me that money, and I’ll bring you whatever that’s worth?”

“Okay.” 

The kid handed over the cash and Eddie told him to stay at the door while he counted the money and walked over to his bedroom. 

He came out with a small baggie in his hand and flashed you a quick apologetic grin before facing the kid again. 

“There you go. Enjoy.” 

Eddie shut the door behind him and walked back to the couch to sit with you again, just as the movie was wrapping up. 

“I’m sorry about that. I was hoping tonight could go interrupted, but that’s never the case, right?” 

“Yeah, it’s alright. I didn’t know you still dealt.”

The staff at the diner was pretty close-knit, and you had heard lots about Eddie selling drugs in high school, but you had figured that was in the past. You weren’t judging, though. People do what they can to pay the bills—you were both working in a diner at the edge of your crappy town, you know all about that. 

“I don’t really. Just from time to time, I guess.” Eddie shrugged. “Does that bother you?”

“No. Everyone’s gotta do what they can in life. I don’t have a problem, as long as you’re okay with it.” 

“Cool.”

You both just looked at each other for a second, not sure what to say now. Eddie missed the perfect opportunity to make the move he wanted to make on you earlier, and now the movie was over. 

You both silently cursed yourself for not doing what you really wanted to do earlier, but the mood was interrupted by a kid at the door wanting to get high. 

Although you wanted to stay at Eddie’s place for longer, you knew the night was coming to a natural end. 

“I should probably get home soon. I have work in the morning.” 

Eddie was mentally kicking himself for not doing anything earlier, but he definitely wasn’t going to try and convince you to stay since he was aware how that could make him seem. 

“Yeah, okay. I can drive you home.” He stood up and grabbed his car keys from the counter. “You know, Steve’s probably already getting his beauty sleep or something.”

You thanked Eddie and strolled over to him, who was holding the door open for you. 

The two of you walked out to his van, and you slid into the same seat where you had begun the evening. Eddie sat down next to you and flashed you a quick smile before starting the car. 

The ride back to your place was, for the most part, quiet and awkward; it was a sad change from the chemistry you were feeling just an hour ago. 

When you arrived back home, Eddie stopped the car, but you spoke before you got out and the night would be officially over. 

“Thanks for tonight, Eddie. I think we should do this again.”

He looked flustered for a moment. It was no more than a second, but you caught it anyway.

“Well, thanks for saying yes, sweetheart. Are you doing anything Sunday?”

“I have a shift in the morning, but I’m done by the early afternoon.”

“Perfect.” Eddie smiled. “I’ll think of something for us to do then.”

You unbuckled your seatbelt as you badly masked a grin. 

“Okay. It’s a date.”

Eddie opened the door on his side, and so you followed suit. 

“You want me to walk you back?” Eddie offered. 

You stood a foot and a half away from Eddie beside his van and looked back to your apartment building. 

“Steve and Robin are probably pressed against the peephole right now, so I don’t know.”

Eddie ran his hand through his hair and shook his head amusedly. “Ah, I see. You’ve already got people looking out for you?”

You hummed, biting your lip softly. 

“So…” You trailed off. 

“So?” Eddie raised an eyebrow. 

That’s when you finally took your chance. You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Eddie’s cheek, just by the corner of his mouth. 

You backed away, and Eddie seemed flustered but happy, so you knew it went well. 

“Thanks again. I’ll see you at work, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Eddie said quietly. “See you.”

It wasn’t often that Eddie flustered like that. Usually he was calm and collected, or at least yelling, if we’re talking about being in the kitchen at the diner. But very rarely did Eddie blush, and that’s exactly what he did after you kissed him. 

He guessed that it made a lot of sense that you could be the one to make him feel things that no one else can. 

Eddie watched as you walked over to the front of your building and gave him a wave before going inside. His thoughts were moving so fast, he can’t even remember if he waved back. Damn, he hopes he waved back. 

Then, as soon as you were inside and you were both out of each other’s sight, Eddie had to let out his excitement. He took a step out and threw his head forward, shouting at the top of his lungs. 

He stopped the moment he realised you might be able to hear him, and quickly went back into his van. Then he started shouting inside the privacy of those metal walls. 

Eddie was really excited about seeing you tomorrow. 

Little to Eddie’s knowledge, you were just as excited as him, if not even more.

[ginnsbaker]

All Of Your Pieces (2 - Liar! Liar!)

Chapter Summary: You wake up one morning compelled to say the truth and nothing but the truth. Wanda seizes this opportunity to ensure everything remains under her control. Meanwhile, Jimmy and Darcy finally discover what happened to Agent Monica Rambeau. Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader Chapter word count: 3k+ | Chapter Tags: Manipulation

A/N: Billy is my favorite twin, if that isn't obvious already :P // More author's notes here.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

It doesn’t require a calendar to track the days here in Westview.

It's the kind of repetition that settles over suburban life, where dates fade into insignificance and days blur into a seamless loop, distinguishable only by the changing seasons. But even the current season—fall—is as predictable in its passage as ever, like storybook weather in its perfection. The birds are always chirping, the sun rises promptly at 6:40 every morning—never a minute early or a second late—and it never rains. Just endless clear skies, day after day, until the sun sets at five.

You've been chewing on this odd feeling ever since you and Wanda arrived in this part of New Jersey, but today, there's something extra. You can't pin it down, just that it's…there. Today feels different—more than usual—and you didn’t really get it until breakfast, when your mouth slipped past your usual tact with the kids.

“Mommy, do you like it?” Tommy asks, his eyes big and hopeful as he holds up a crayon drawing of what looks like the family standing outside a perfect little house. 

Perfect. Honestly, you’re getting pretty tired of everything being so perfect around here.

“It's...very colorful,” you start, the usual praise ready on your tongue, but what comes out instead is, “Though it's kind of all over the place, isn’t it? Maybe you could try to stay inside the lines a bit more.”

Speaking aloud is like sending an email: once it's out there, it's out there for good. Even so, an email would have been the better option. At least then, you could just hack into Tommy’s account—if he ever figures out how to set one up—and erase your blunder for good.

Could having a magical wife somehow save you from this mess?

It’s too late though. Tommy's face crumples, and Wanda doesn't seem keen on throwing you a lifeline, just a dirty look from across the table as you sip your morning coffee.

“But if you’re going for an abstract—” you start, but your son is already sulking off to his room. 

Billy digs into his cereal, blissfully unaware. Wanda, on the other hand, looks as if she's ready to rip open a portal to another realm and hurl you out of this one.

That can’t be good.

“You really upset him,” she says, arms crossing over her chest. “He was so proud of that drawing.”

“I know, I feel awful about it,” you groan, burying your face in your hands.  Seeing your genuine remorse, Wanda eases up, giving you a moment to stew in your guilt before she comes back to the table with a stack of pancakes.

“Here, eat up,” she says, setting them down in front of you.

You pick up your fork, cutting into the stack. They look perfect—golden brown, with the butter melting just right. You take a bite, and before you can stop yourself, the words are out.

“They're a bit dry,” you blurt out, instantly regretting your words. But once you start, you can't seem to stop. “And this maple syrup... it tastes kind of artificial.” 

Wanda gasps. “Excuse me?”

“Shit—”

“Language, Y/N!” she snaps, but it's too late, the curse is already out there, floating in the air like a bad smell. 

In the next moment, something strange happens—your lips tingle, and suddenly you can't feel your mouth. Alarmed, you touch your face, finding smooth skin where your lips should be. You try to protest, but only muffled noises emerge. Fear surges as you point frantically at your face. You attempt to scream, but no sound comes out.

Seeing your flustered pantomime, Wanda’s face goes from angry to horrified. With a wave of her hand, your mouth is back in its place, and you’re gasping, both of you staring at each other, not believing what just happened. Meanwhile, Billy is giggling, clapping his tiny hands together, and gleefully repeating the S-word you accidentally let slip earlier. 

You and Wanda just continue to stare at each other in shock, but then you glance at Billy, his innocent delight completely oblivious to the fact he’s saying something he shouldn’t, and you see the corners of Wanda’s mouth start to twitch. A moment later, she’s laughing unabashedly, and before you know it, you’re doing the same. 

Despite the peculiarities of your life here in Westview, you don't think you've ever been this content. Before Wanda, the idea of having your own family—your own kids, two no less—seemed unthinkable. You never imagined you'd have a wife, a house in a quiet suburb, or hear one of your sons swear for the first time. Westview is far from normal, but then again, so is your family. As you watch Wanda's laughter taper into soft giggles, you think it's impossible to love her any more than you already do.

Wanda made this all conceivable for you.

“Sorry, honey,” you say, though still a bit shaken by the ordeal. “I didn't mean to be so rude.”

Wanda looks even more remorseful than you feel—which makes sense, considering she did erase your mouth, however briefly.

“And I probably shouldn't have... you know, removed your mouth,” she murmurs, guiltily picking at her cuticles.

Admittedly, it was terrifying—one of the scariest experiences you've ever had. You certainly don't want a repeat. It makes you slightly wary of your wife, but your love for Wanda outweighs your fear. Standing beside one of the most powerful beings in the universe takes courage, and you've built up plenty over the years together. You're made for this—for her, for this kind of love.

“Apology accepted,” you say, mustering a weak smile.

Wanda's face floods with relief, then quickly contorts into worry. “What’s with you today?”

“I can't seem to lie,” you confess, realizing there's no easy way to skirt the truth. “I don't know what's happening, but I just can't stop saying exactly what's on my mind.”

She stares at you, confused and a little hurt. “What do you mean you can’t lie today? So, you’re usually lying?”

Before you can smooth that over, Billy looks up from his cereal, fixing you with that stern look that’s pure Wanda. “Mommy, lying is bad.”

Wanda’s gaze softens as she looks at Billy, then back at you, the seriousness returning. “Billy, why don’t you go brush your teeth and check on your brother? Your mommy and I need to talk for a little bit.”

“Okay, mama.”

Billy scampers off, and you feel your stature shrink under your wife's gaze, suddenly feeling every bit the child.

“What’s this about not being able to lie?” Wanda asks once it’s just the two of you.

You shake your head. “Look, it’s not that I usually lie, but today, I can’t even if I wanted to. It’s like a—a truth filter permanently switched off.”

Wanda takes a few moments to mull over your words. “Oh…” she starts, sounding half-convinced. “Maybe it’s stress,” she throws out after a beat. “You’ve been working really hard lately, haven’t you? Perhaps your mind is just overwhelmed and you need a mental day off.”

You had thought of that, but the whole situation seemed too weird for such a simple explanation. Then again, maybe seeing shadows where there aren't any is just another stress symptom. So you let it slide.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right. I’ll see if I can call in sick next week,” you mumble, trying to sound cheerful about the prospect of a break.

Wanda comes around the table and cups your face in her hands. You let her pinch your cheeks together, feeling both stubborn and a bit sorry for yourself. It's silly, but all you want is for Wanda to coddle you and make you feel better, not to dish out logical reasons for why you’re not yourself today. 

“Well, if you're stuck with the truth, let's have some fun with it,” Wanda says.

You swallow hard, aware that any question she might ask now would either please or upset her—and there seems to be no middle ground.

“Uhm, honey, I don’t think—”

“Do you love me?”

You smirk at her; that’s an easy one. “More than anything else.”

“Only me?”

You laugh at her silly follow-up. This reminds you of the early days of your courtship when Wanda was a bottomless well of need. You didn't mind at all, knowing she needed to hear it as often as you made her feel it. Initially, you were a bit bothered, wondering if your actions weren't speaking loudly enough for her to trust you. Eventually, it became less frequent, until the question turned into a statement—You love me—to which you responded with your own: You love me too. Since then, it quickly became how you say ‘I love you’ to each other.

“Only you. I'd sooner die than love someone else,” you confidently tell her.

Her smile in return is a beautiful riddle—a riddle you can’t figure out. 

“Wanda, I—”

“Do you like living here?”

“Sometimes.” The words slip out before you can think, and you're relieved to realize that your feelings about Westview are honestly not all negative. “It’s a nice town. Quiet and cheap.”

Wanda's face does something subtle. You can't quite read her reaction, but it's clear she has more questions when she doesn't park on your answer, instead moving on to something else. 

“Do you... do you remember how we got here?"

You blink at her. Initially, the question seems a bit absurd. But as you try to formulate a response, “Of course. We got married at…” you stall, your brain blanking on the when and where of your own wedding. “...then we moved into this house last…”

You try to pin down the date, but it slips through your mind like sand.

“Wanda?” A laugh escapes you, but there's a nervous edge to it. “Why can’t I remember any of the details?”

The last thing she says before flicking her wrist is, “Because you’re not supposed to.” But even that slips away, scrubbed clean from your memory by Wanda’s sweeping hand.

–

“Jimmy?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I found her.”

Jimmy hurried over to the tight corner of their camp where Darcy had practically set up shop for the past few days. Since the signals were first picked up, she's taken charge of monitoring the transmissions, her main focus being to locate Agent Monica Rambeau. They've already confirmed that many of Wanda's bizarre, sitcom-style characters are, in fact, real residents of Westview, somehow trapped inside whatever anomaly Wanda seems to be in the center of.

“That’s Monica, right?” Darcy points at the grainy image on the retro television set they've been using to watch the town's activities. The broadcasts come through at odd hours, which makes every second of surveillance crucial. 

Jimmy leans in closer, squinting at the screen where a woman bearing a striking resemblance to Monica appears. “It sure looks like her,” he confirms.

The woman onscreen is dressed in distinctly 70s fashion—a bold, patterned blouse with wide lapels tucked into high-waisted bell-bottoms. Her hair is styled in voluminous, bouncy curls that softly frame her face, completing the look that is so far removed from the S.W.O.R.D. uniform Jimmy last saw her in.

“I wonder what character she’s playing in the show…” Darcy muses.

A handful of nearby crew quietly look on as Monica steps out of a Hornet, a stack of papers clutched in her hand, and strides confidently toward one of those cookie-cutter houses lining the street—yours and Wanda's.

“Stay frosty, Monica,” Darcy mutters under her breath, staring unblinkingly at the screen as they watch her knock gently on the door.

It’s Wanda who greets her with a guarded smile. “Hello, can I help you?” she asks, sizing up the stranger on her doorstep.

“Hi, there. I’m Geraldine. You must be Wanda,” Monica says. Jimmy and Darcy exchange a look, both arriving at the same conclusion: whatever spell has ensnared the other residents, Monica appears to be under it too.

“Do I know you?” Wanda asks, her teeth gritted in what she hopes passes for a smile. But Wanda, she’s got a tell. It’s never hard to see when she’s faking it. The sitcom laugh track of this Westview tries to spin it as humor, but it’s clear to anyone—she’s not thrilled about Geraldine’s arrival at all.

“Oh, I’m sorry, has Y/N not mentioned who I am?” Geraldine asks mildly,  like she’s bringing up some small, casual detail—which, for Wanda, it isn’t.

“Honey, who's at the door?” Your voice drifts from the living room just before you step into view, crunching on an apple. When you spot the visitor, your face lights up with recognition, puzzling Wanda even more.

“Evening, ma'am,” Geraldine nods at you with a polite smile.

Wanda keeps darting glances between you and Geraldine, trying to piece together what's going on. And what’s frustrating her is you don’t seem privy at all to her disconcertment.

“I told you to just call me Y/N,” you admonish with a light grin. “What brings you here?”

“W-Who is she?” Wanda jumps in, keeping up her charade of a pleasant surprise.

“It’s Geraldine,” you tell Wanda, expecting her to recognize the name. Her blank, slightly annoyed expression forces you to jog your memory and that’s when it hits you that your wife has no idea what you’re talking about. “She’s my new assistant. Didn’t I tell you?” you say sheepishly.

“No, honey, you certainly did not,” Wanda replies, her smile stretched a bit too tight. She turns to Geraldine. “Aren’t offices usually closed by five?”

“They sure are, Wanda,” Geraldine replies cheerfully. It bothers Wanda how Geraldine uses ‘ma’am’ for you but casually drops her first name like they're old friends.

“So, why are you here?” Wanda asks, no longer bothering to hide her irritation.

“Oh, just dropping off some reports that Y/N needed to review tonight. Urgent stuff, you know?” Geraldine holds up the stack of papers in her hand as proof.

“Yikes,” Darcy winces at the tension practically leaking through the screen, feeling that deep cringe of secondhand embarrassment for Monica's obliviousness to Wanda's ire.

Fortunately for your assistant, you position yourself between her and Wanda, intercepting just as your wife’s temper begins to flare. You remember Wanda’s warm, almost syrupy kindness with Agnes when she first appeared, which only makes her sudden cold front toward Geraldine unreasonable.

“I completely forgot about those reports. Thanks for bringing them over, Geraldine,” you say, nudging her toward the exit. “See you Monday!”

Then, you close the door before she can add anything else, sparing both women from each other.

“So, why haven't you mentioned Geraldine before?” Wanda asks, not sparing another second to grill you about your new assistant.

You frown, thinking back. “I thought I did.”

Wanda looks at you for a long moment, her expression inscrutable. “Are you sure there’s nothing else you’re not telling me?” she demands, her eyes searching yours.

“Uh-oh, trouble in paradise,” Darcy sing-songs, stuffing a handful of popcorn into her mouth. Jimmy reaches over, trying to sneak a handful, but she swats him away.

You give her a lopsided smile, doing your best to charm your way out of the situation. The compulsive honesty from earlier isn't nagging at you anymore, but really, there's no need to sugarcoat anything in this case.

“Sounds like someone's a little jealous,” you tease lightly. And there it is again—that distant chorus of an audience, laughing on cue. You really need to talk to Wanda about this; it could be linked to all the experiments she's been doing with her powers.

Wanda barks out a forced laugh right into your smirking face. “Jealous? Me? There's no way I'm jealous of anyone, especially not Geraldine.”

“Then why did you look like you wanted to throw her out yourself when she showed up?”

Wanda's smile fades a tad, then she just shrugs. “Because she was interrupting our family dinner time. That's all.”

Normally, you'd draw this out until she admits she's jealous, but that could take all night. Right now, all you want is to kiss your beautiful wife, the only one you see. It's getting late, and not being able to touch her all day is driving you a little mad with want.

“Fine, you're not jealous,” you whisper, moving in, wrapping your arms around her waist. “Why would you be? You’re the prettiest, smartest, most amazing woman anyone could ask for.”

Wanda melts into you almost instantly. “You love me.”

“You love me too,” you say before leaning in to peck her lips. She hums happily against your lips, but just then, you hear the boys complaining about being hungry. Sharing a smile, you both head back to sort out dinner.

The episode ends, credits roll, and Darcy groans, tossing her head back. “No way. I need more of this,” she huffs, stabbing her finger at the screen. “They're perfect together. Shame Y/N’s supposedly dead. I hate spoilers.”

“She doesn’t look dead to me from here,” Jimmy says.

“My theory? That’s not actually her. I bet Wanda or someone did something to make a rando look like Y/N.”

“You think?”

Darcy nods. “With all the surreal stuff happening here? Yeah, I'd put money on it, dude.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Jimmy concedes. “Anyway, it’s a relief to see Agent Rambeau’s alive and kicking.”

“As Geraldine,” Darcy reminds him. “I wonder who chooses their names for them. Back to Y/N, what did that Howard guy have to say about Y/N being dead but so alive in Westview?”

“It’s Hayward,” Jimmy corrects her with a sigh. “He doesn’t seem interested in her or anyone else trapped inside. He’s more interested in the energy field surrounding the town.”

“And their boys?” Darcy adds, not listening to Jimmy’s rant. “We don’t have any public record of their true identities in Westview, right?”

Jimmy gives her a sidelong glance. “No records, no data. As far as Westview’s concerned, they just… appeared.”

“Typical,” she mutters, jotting down notes without looking away from the TV's static, hoping there’s a bonus episode or something.

But the screen stays blank, nothing but static for hours on end.

–

After hours of making love, Wanda lies next to you, watching you sleep. She’s used her powers on you before, but never here, never without your consent since you became a couple. Casting the hex was the easy part, the lying to you—not so much. Acting like she didn't know what was troubling you had hurt her more than she let on. 

She wanted to check if you were still happy here, still content, or if doubts were starting to creep in. And knowing you—the real you—you'd probably lie to Wanda just to keep her happy, just to ensure she has everything she wants. You've always prioritized her needs over your own, always stepping aside to let her shine. She wants the same for you, but you always manage to outdo her in every act of self-sacrifice.

When you started asking her about the exact dates of the wedding you thought you two actually had, it confirmed you still had no idea why you’re here, or what she’s done. She was relieved, honestly, because it meant she could stop forcing you to tell the truth, a spell she’d put on you out of desperation more than distrust.

She isn't sure how long this will last, just that it might be the most happiness she'll ever know, even if it's a delicate, fleeting kind. How did she even do this? Wanda doesn’t even know. It just happened—like a rose that has sprouted off a barren land. And now, despite having everything she's ever wanted, there’s always this nagging fear that it could all fall apart.

Quietly, she makes a promise to herself to fix things. She promises to you and her boys, she’ll find a way to make this life real, something that won’t just vanish like everything else she’s ever loved.

[thenickgirl]

TAKE IT OUT ON ME

bf!nick x male!reader

summary: in which Nick takes his frustrations out on reader

type: fic ✩ genre: smut ✩ pov: reader’s ✩ word count: 2.1K

warnings: use of y/n, use of 👀…the d word, swearing, oral and anal sex, degradation, hair pulling, rimming, fingering, spitting, edging if you squint, choking, slapping (DNI if you’re uncomfortable), top!nick x bottom!reader

a/n: good evening, whores (affectionate)! saurrr if you know me, then you know that i’m a bottom nick stan for life. the simple thought of him riding a nice big dick is what brings me joy every day lmao. that being said, top nick is so foreign to me, but i wanted to take a risk for all my nick boys that i love so much. i have to give a huge shoutout to queen ki, @nickssidewitch, she knows why 😉. y’all this fr had me clenching my thighs so tight, god men are so fucking lucky ffs. i’m so nervous about this, i really hope you all enjoy it. i’ll be having a very cold shower now, byeeee 👋🏾. happy reading! ✩

‘Sometimes I don’t mind you

havin’ the worst day’

“Fucking BITCH!” You hear Nick yell from upstairs as you enter your home, along with things being slammed on the floor. You sigh, leaving your shoes by the door, before coming up the steps. You place your bag down on the couch as you make your way to the bedroom. You stood by the door, leaning your shoulder against the frame, watching him.

Nick was swearing under his breath, picking up the items he’d thrown across the room, not even noticing your presence. You take in his appearance; his shirt almost cropped from how small it was, his hair completely disheveled from tugging at it in frustration, the way his tattooed arms flexed as he clenched his fists, all while his blue fresh love sweats hung dangerously low on his hips. You bit your lip, the sight of him turning you on so much, you could feel yourself growing harder by the second as your eyes continue to scan his body.

“What are you looking at?” he gripes, snapping you out of your apparent trance. His piercing blue eyes lock with yours, eyebrows furrowing, and suddenly you feel a warmth in your cheeks.

“H-Huh?” you stutter in defeat, unable to form a full sentence at that moment.

“Are you deaf?” he replies sternly, stepping closer to you.

“Bad day, huh?” you ask nervously, biting the inside of your cheek, not really wanting to set him off more than he already is.

“Something like that,” he starts, rubbing his eyes before pacing the floor in front of me.

“There’s no fucking audio on the video, and we have nothing else to post for tomorrow. I have to decide on the new flavors for the next drop, but I don't like any of them, and I can’t think of any new ones for the life of me. I can’t find either of my fucking glasses, and you know I can’t see for shit. I’m so frustrated, I don’t know what to do” he lets out a sigh, running his fingers through his hair.

You honestly felt bad for the brunette man in front of you, he’s overworked and certainly under appreciated. Yet, you couldn’t help finding him so god damn sexy in this disgruntled state. You open your mouth to speak before closing it, biting on your lip as you think of what you’re about to say next. You wanted nothing more than to be supportive, but all you could think about right now was being under him.

“I’m so sorry, baby, that sounds like an awful day,” you pout, pulling him closer by the waistband of his sweats.

“Why don’t you let out some of that frustration on me, hm?” you grin, looking up at him with lust in your eyes.

Nick licks his lips as his eyes darken at your proposition, “Oh yeah, gonna let me take it out on you, pretty boy? Be my little fucktoy tonight?” he smirks, grabbing you by the waist, your bodies flushed against each other, and you gasp. You can feel how hard he’s getting already.

“Use me however you want,” you offer, a submissive smile playing on your lips.

“Such an eager little slut for me, I think I'll take you up on that offer,” his voice dripped with lust.

He leans down, the warmth of his breath tickling your ear as he whispers, “On your knees. Now.” He commands, and you drop to your knees without hesitation.

“So pretty, but…” he trails off, running his thumb across your bottom lip, and you wrap your lips around it, sucking gently, “You’ll look even better when you’re gagging on this dick,” he continues, smirking.

He pulls his thumb away with a pop, before hooking his fingers inside the waistband of his sweats, pulling them and his underwear off in one swift motion. His hard cock springs free, and you let out a stifled moan, your mouth watering at the sight of it. It was so big, you became lost in thought, you could hardly wait to have it buried inside you.

“It’s not polite to stare, you know,” he says, before grabbing a fistful of your hair, pushing your face towards his length.

“Suck it, and don’t even fucking think about teasing, or you’ll regret it” he threatens, as you reach to grab his cock in your hand, but it gets smacked away.

“No hands,” he demands, and you nod, looking up at him before taking him in your mouth.

He groans at the warm feeling of your mouth around him. You began moving your head back and forth, sucking hard on his shaft. “Shit,” he moans, biting hard on his bottom lip, and your eyes locked with his. The way he was reacting to you made your cock twitch. He pushes your head down further, and you relax your throat. He bucks his hips, his fist still tangled in your hair as he fucks your throat.

“God, I love your fucking mouth,” Nick moans, as he continues. You start to gag around him, and his body trembles at the sound. He can feel his release starting to build.

“Not yet,” he says, as he pulls you off of him. You gasp, inhaling deeply, as you finally catch your breath.

He helps you up, grabbing you by the waist before crashing his lips against yours. He grabs the hem of your shirt, lifting it up, and you break the kiss to help him pull it off. He removes his own shirt quickly, and before you knew it, your back was being pressed against the mattress, as his broad frame hovered over you. He starts kissing your neck, sucking, and biting at your skin. His tongue smoothing over each mark he creates, and you whine.

“Nick…” you moan softly, squirming beneath him.

“So fucking needy,” he chuckles. He kisses along your chest, his warm tongue flicking one of your nipples as he rolls the other in between his fingers. You moan, your back arching into his touch. His lips trail down to your abdomen, leaving wet kisses until he reaches the waistband of your pants. He palms you through your jeans, before undoing them, pulling them down along with your boxers. You lift your hips to help him take them off, and your cock springs free.

“This all for me?” Nick teases.

He flips you over onto your stomach, grabbing you by the hips, and lifting you up onto your knees so you’re bent over in front of him, and he lets out a low groan. He smacks your ass, then squeezes it, and you let out a soft moan.

“Please…” you whimper, pushing your ass against him.

“Begging will get you everywhere, darling,” Nick says smirking, as his large hands spread your cheeks. He leans down, licking a strip from your balls to your hole, and you gasp at feeling. His tongue laps at your entrance, his hands rubbing, and massaging your ass cheeks.

“Mmph fuck,” you moan, biting hard on your lip. His tongue draws circles around your hole, before sliding in. “Ohh my god,” you moan out, your back arching even more as you bury your face in the sheets. He continues to eat you out, licking and sucking at your hole, his tongue darting in and out rapidly.

He pulls back after a few minutes, smacking your ass once more before reaching over towards the nightstand to grab a bottle of lube. He squeezes some out on his fingers, then applies it. He slides one finger inside you, pumping in and out slowly. His aching cock throbs at the squelching sound. He slides in another, this time pumping faster, and you moan, pushing back against his hand.

“You’re so fucking pathetic,” He teases, smacking your ass again before sliding in a third finger. He pumps his digits in and out, spreading them every so often, stretching you, as you moan over and over.

“I need you so bad, daddy, please…” you whine desperately, sending chills down his spine, and he groans. He pulls his fingers from you, before lining himself at your entrance. Before you can even say another word, he slams his length into you. Not even giving you time to adjust, his hips snap against you at a steady pace.

“So tight,” he whispers, both hands gripping your hips, holding you in place as he thrusts into you. Your moans fill the room as your fingers tangle in the sheets. He starts fucking you harder, grabbing you by your hair, pulling it as he pounds into you over and over.

“God, y/n, you feel fucking amazing,” he moans, as he continues to drill into you. The head of his cock repeatedly hits your prostate, and your body shudders. You reach down, taking your length in your hand, stroking it. The pleasure intensifies as you teeter closer to the edge.

“Ohh fuck, I’m so close,” you pant, feeling that familiar knot in your stomach, and suddenly he pulls out. You open your mouth to protest, until you’re being flipped onto your back once again, and you gasp at the sudden change in position.

“I wanna see your face when you cum for me,” he says, before slamming into you again. Taking one of your legs, and placing it over his shoulder, giving him deeper access. You moan, as he gains a steady rhythm. His fingers play with your nipples, the immense pleasure making your back arch into his touch.

“Nick Nick Nick,” you moan his name over and over, as he fucks you senseless.

“That’s it, baby,” he smirks, “You’re taking me so well, like a good little slut,” he praises, degradingly. He trails one of his hands to your throat, squeezing lightly as he deepens his strokes.

“Nghhh fuck, it feels so good,” you gasp, your hands gripping the sheets once again.

“You love it when I get angry, don’t you? It turns you on to see me so frustrated? ‘Cause you know you’ll get fucked like this?” Nick asks, his hand still wrapped around your throat, as he’s balls deep inside you. You whimper in response, his length hitting your sweet spot so perfectly, making your brain foggy.

“Aw, so drunk on my cock he can’t speak,” he starts, “Answer me.” He demands, as the palm of his hand connects with your cheek, and you let out a small gasp, biting hard on your lip from how aroused it made you.

“Y-yes, it turns me on s-so much, daddy. Love when you f-fuck me like this,” you whimper, looking at him, your eyes locking with his. You open your mouth, your tongue sticking out, and he spits in it. You moan, swallowing it down, and a lustful growl escapes his lips.

“Fuck, you drive me insane,” he groans, taking your leg down from his shoulder before he leans in, kissing you hungrily. You moan in between the kiss, and he slides his tongue into your mouth. He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down to your neck, sucking at your skin, as hips continue to snap against you, each thrust deeper than the last.

“Mm fuck, don’t stop. Please don’t stop, please don’t stop,” you let out a desperate whimper, your eyes rolling back, as he continues his movements, picking up his pace. You feel your release start to build again, your body trembling.

“You’re shaking, baby. You gonna cum for me?” Nick whispered in your ear, before biting it.

“Y-Yes, I’m so close,” you moan, the knot in your stomach seconds from coming undone.

“I don’t remember you asking,” he teases, slowing down his pace, and you whine, your hips bucking up trying to gain more friction.

“I need to cum so bad, please. Please, I wanna cum for you,” you plead, rolling your hips against him. He takes his hand, and wraps it around your throbbing cock, stroking slowly.

“Make a mess, baby,” he encourages, his hand moving rapidly on your cock, as he starts to thrust into you again.

“Ohh, oh fuck,” you let out a stifled moan, as you cum all over your abdomen. Nick continues to fuck you through your orgasm, as he chases his own.

“Shit y/n,” he moans your name, his body stuttering as he cums inside you.

He collapses on top of you, panting, and you chuckle, running your fingers through his now damp hair. He pecks at your shoulder softly, before pulling out, and rolling off of you. Instinctively, he pulls you to his side, and you rest your head on his chest.

“Thank you, baby, for ‘helping’ me out,” he jokes, his fingers doing air quotes, before placing a kiss on your forehead.

“I’m always happy to help. Especially, if it’s gonna turn out that good,” you tease, and you both laugh.

“Come on, let’s get cleaned up,” he suggests, before sitting up, and getting out of bed.

“And can you pleaseee help find my glasses?” he asks, helping you out of bed, and you chuckle, shaking your head.

“Babe, they’re on the living room table,” you say, giggling.

Nick’s eyes widened, “WHAT?!”

—

✎ signed,

𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓃𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁 ✩

a/n: ahhhh! i hope you enjoyed this. it was such a challenge for me, i’d been working on it for literal months, not kidding. saurrr, it’ll probably be a minute before top!nick makes another appearance, hope this helps! 💋

dividers by: @/cafekitsune @/adornedwithlight

[wonton4rang]

kinda giggling and twirling my toes at that "is your gf single" post... leehan..

can you do maybe like reader making bnd jealous like that (as a joke and just bcuz ur horny)

also can i be 💫 anon

Hiiii, first post after a while !! And ofc, welcome home 💫 anon 💜💜💜

——————————————————————————

jealous much ¡!

pairing: bnd x reader.

warnings: some +18 for the legal line, jealousy (well, duh)

summary: how would bnd react to you making them jealous as their gf (as a joke ofc)

——————————————————————————

sungho; he is honestly a little bit easy to trick, not because he’s dumb but because he believes in you too much and takes for granted everything you do/ say cause… why would his pretty gf do anything to harm him? so when you faked texting and laughing for over ten minutes, turning your screen off when he tried to peek and laugh w u, he got worried, pouting and feeling a little betrayed, not even because he thought you were cheating but because why were u laughing at something without him??? “payback’s a bitch, huh?” you said to him and only then he understood what this was about. he was too busy playing to help u earlier and now that he wanted to be w u, it sucks that he couldn’t :’)

riwoo; a furious blush is already visible on his cheeks when you come out of the dressing room with that tiny skirt, giving him and the other men waiting for their girls a twirl that made everyone in the room stare, yeah, no. he quickly stand up and pushed you back into the small room, looking at you for a few seconds and letting out a sigh when he noticed the smirk on your face. “you’re just horny, aren’t you?” his face so close to yours that you felt his breath against your lips “gonna have to wait a bit for me, baby, we don’t want everyone to hear you moaning like a bitch, right?” And you just LOVED when sanghyeok talked to you like that, his naughty smirk making you feel warmer than you were. You changed so fast istg u were eager to get home now.

jaehyun; a bitch, he didn’t even let you breathe when he was already taking you to the other side of the house, not even talking to you when you played innocent and asked “what’s up with you?”, he would take you to a bathroom and close the door, the music of the party being dimmed by it and would say “do you think is funny when you flirt with my friends in front of me?” , “would you prefer if I do it behind your back?” he was speechless. but soon so were you, your lips were attacked by your boyfriend and you could feel his desperation to get to you, to show you how angry yet passionate he was. you followed the kiss and it soon turned to something else, your pussy starting to leak right when he pulled out, you looked at him confused and he just laughed at you before saying “think it through before doing this type of things again” and you bet you will cause wtf.

taesan; this one doesn’t bat an eye in public tbh, so it was a bad move to try to make him jealous by talking wayyyy too much w sungho and neglect his attempts to join the conversation. he eventually stopped trying to join and just listened, feeling a little bitter by the way you kept laughing and joking with his hyung. wtf were u doing? So when you both got home, you really thought everything was unsuccessful, you just wanted to trigger something in him to get a little action, if u know what I mean. Oh well, you certainly did because next thing u knew was him trapping your body against the wall and looking down at you for a few seconds before laughing in disbelief “if you wanted to make me feel angry or jealous, you succeeded. Now, why?” He spoke in such a low tone, his eyes piercing yours and his face almost expressionless, almost because that hint of something you couldn’t discern was there, “I didn’t-” , “yes, you did. but I think you could explain it to me better in our bedroom, I’ll be waiting” and oh my, u shouldn’t do this again but you certainly will cause he fucked you so right and so deep and nice that your body was craving for it even though you just had it.

leehan; certainly the worst boy to try and make jealous. First things first, he does not get jealous over boys who are uglier than him (which is most boys, btw), he is not insecure at all and he trusts you so he knows that you wouldn’t do anything to actually hurt him. Which is why he is laughing at your attempts to look serious while “flirting” with jaehyun, not even him is believing your act. But leehan would let you play the part, signaling you to join him later by the pool just to spread you open and eat you out like a mad person, he has always got a fixation with your pussy and the fact that you were intentionally trying to make him jealous just turned him on like a flame. His tongue would do wonders, you sitting on the edge of the pool and trying to keep it quiet because there were still people inside of the house, your legs were resting on his shoulders and he was inside of the pool just having the best time of his life while he ate u out, fingered your cunt to make you cum faster and sloppily licked your cum when you finally finished on his tongue. Did you fail to make him jealous? Yes. Now, did you fail your main quest which was getting him to help u out cause u were horny? Hell no.

woonhak; i feel like woonagi would get frustrated because he could easily believe that he would lose you, he might think “she’s my first gf, maybe i’m not a good bf” or something like “maybe I’m too young and dumb for her” but no, he was perfect and you soon noticed that he was feeling down instead of being stimulated into kissing you to mark his property. So you stopped, getting close to him and explaining what you were trying to do, he got mad at the beginning but then he just opened up about how he felt and you both worked it out. Did you get your kiss? Ofc, you guys kissed all night and ended up getting under his sheets while cuddling until the morning.

[dreameryfics]

JJ MAYBANK x READER

Summary: The Kooks show up on the beach and JJ defends you

I was with the Pogues all day, like any other day. The sun was shining and the waves were awesome. We woke up that morning and quickly went to the beach. It seemed like everybody had that idea, the beaches filled up within ten minutes it seemed. We got the Twinkie to the beach, well John B did, but not without almost crashing since he was drinking. I tried to tell him to stop, but there was no telling that kid what to do.

I never really was taught how to surf, but that didn't stop me from going out there and just sitting on my surfboard. JJ has tried to help me, but I'm just not very coordinated, to say the least, but he still loves me. I watched everybody surf for a while before deciding to go back to the beach. As I was walking back to the Twinkie, I saw a Jeep start driving over my way. I knew it was Topper and his goons as soon as I saw the vehicle. I sat down on one of the folding chairs we had set up before going to the water, trying to ignore them. I watched as he parked next to us. "What the hell is he doing?" I heard someone ask, looking to see Kie walking over to me.

"I have no clue," I replied, "I just hope no drama happens. It's a nice day and I would hate to have it ruined by them.” I looked over to see Topper, Kelce, Rafe, and Ruthie. I've never liked Topper, but I don't think he's a bad person. I think he's so focused on Kooks versus Pogues, that nothing else matters. It's always been a competition between the two. "I don't understand how he goes from Sarah," I gesture over to Sarah, still surfing, "to Ruthie." I look over to where the Kooks are and see Ruthie glaring at us.

"Well, it's simple," Kie started, "he had the best with Sarah, and now he's just, well, desperate." We both chuckled. I looked over at Kie and saw her grabbing a beer from the cooler, she raised one up to me and I shook my head. I know that there should be at least one of us sober to drive home. "Kie, we're being real mean girls-esque right now," I pointed out. She shrugged her shoulder before responding to me, "Trust me, she's said way worse about us." Kie came over and sat next to me. We sat there for a while before we heard someone walking over to us.

"Hey, can you tell your asshole boyfriend to stop hogging all the waves?" I look up and see Ruthie talking to me, not even acknowledging Kie. I look out and see JJ standing up on his board, noticing Topper doing the same thing before jumping off into the water due to JJ getting in front of him. If it was any other situation I would mention something, but I also know JJ wouldn't do that to someone else. "Ruthie, I can't control what he does," I look up to her hovering over me, "he's out there and I'm over here." She rolls her eyes at me, "You're such a bitch. Can't you just do something for once in your life?" she asks me, it was more of a statement than anything.

"Ruthie," I stand up and walk in front of her, "if JJ comes over here, I'll say something, but until then, how about you go back to your friends and leave us alone." I turned around and started to walk over to the Twinkie, looking at Kie and rolling my eyes at the whole interaction. I didn't get too far before I felt hands on my back, pushing me forward. "What the fuck," I heard Kie shout before coming over to me. I looked back at Ruthie and rolled my eyes at her. “Can't believe you were ever a Kook," she said with attitude before walking away from us.

Kie started to go after her, wanting to protect her friends, but I pulled her back, "Kie, it's not worth it," I told her, "they'll just turn it into our fault if you do anything." She tries to argue with me, but I just sit back down in the chair, trying to forget the interaction. I'm fiddling with my nails when I hear someone ask, "Hey, you good?" I look up to find a shirtless JJ jogging over to me with his board under his arm. I look over and see Sarah and John B getting some drinks from the cooler. I didn't even notice they were back. I nodded my head at JJ and gave him a small smile. He came and squatted down to be level with me, he took my hands, "What happened?"

"Ruthie," I replied looking back down, "she came over and was talking shit. Normal Kook behavior." I looked up at him before I heard Kie, "She pushed her, but your girlfriend over there decided to take the high road. Wouldn't even let me go after her." I looked over at Kie and gave her a look, not wanting her to have said anything. I look back to JJ who is looking over at the group of Kooks. "JJ, it's fine," I tell him placing my hand on his cheek, trying to calm the storm that is forming. He quickly stood up and started walking over to them. I quickly got up and went after him to stop him, but not before Topper yelled over at us, "Oh, look who it is, the Pogue prince and princess."

I took JJ's hand in mine, trying to calm him down. I felt him squeeze my hand tighter, letting me know he was fine. "Topper, let's cut the bullshit," JJ said in an annoyed voice, "all we wanted to do was enjoy the waves and the nice weather but you always seem to be right there, ruining it; your girlfriend too." Topper chuckles at JJ and gets closer to him, "I'm not the one ruining it. You pushed me off my board, and Ruthie here was just defending me."

"I didn't push you off your board, you jumped off," he stated with a small smirk on his lips. "Plus, you had been getting in front of us every other time, I thought it was a competition." Topper scoffs at JJ. I had only seen JJ get in front of Topper that one time, but it didn't surprise me that they had been getting in front of JJ beforehand. "Yup," Topper dramatically throws his hand up in the air, "it's always the damn Kooks fault with you guys."

"Seriously Top," I interrupted getting closer to him, "You've always hated the Pogues, don't act all high and mighty. You've started shit with them so many times I can't even remember. Even when we were friends you were an asshole to them." He looks at me with wide eyes, "I can't imagine what Sarah ever saw in you." As I turn my back away from him, I'm quickly pushed to the ground. "What the fuck!" I hear JJ yell before helping me off the ground. I wipe the sand off my legs and turn to face them. Ruthie was smirking at me, proud of herself. Topper was staring at her with a hint of anger in his face.

"Don't ever fucking touch her again," JJ said to Ruthie, but it was directed towards the entire group. I started walking away, not wanting to even be on the beach anymore. I overheard JJ add, "Don't even come near her or I'll fucking end you."

I heard his feet shuffle in the sand to catch up with me. He took my hand and faced me towards him. "I'm so sorry princess," he said before he engulfed me into a hug. I wrapped my arms around him and he placed a kiss on the top of my head. "If they ever bother you again," he says and places his hands on either side of my face, looking at me, "please tell me." I shook my head at him before he put his arms around me and pulled me into another hug. I've never felt more safe than when I'm in his arms.

We walk back to where the rest of the group is standing. They started asking questions about what happened and we told them. "How was I ever with him before you," Sarah asks looking over at John B. He shrugs his shoulders before we all chuckle at her, trying to in fact imagine what she saw in Topper. We packed up our things and left soon after, not wanting to be on the beach any longer.

We drove home and quickly unpacked our things before we went to the house. We were stopped at the door by Pope, with bloody hands. The atmosphere taking a drastic change from earlier.

I started this with a different ending in mind, but it didn't go in that direction so here we are... Not my favorite but it's what I got lol

[mooki3-bear]

Who wants the drama (babydaddy!Chris sturniolo x black!fem!reader

Summary: A look into the morning with Chris as the father of your child

Warnings: None

“Chris, what are you doing here so early? It’s not your week,” you say as you open the door in nothing but a bonnet, plaid pajama pants, and a fresh love sweatshirt, to see your daughter's father.

“Why do I need an excuse to come and see my favorite girls” He leans in to kiss you on the cheek. As you push his face away with an eye roll you hear your three-year-old running around the corner. 

“Hi Babygirl” Chris exclaims as your daughter, Isa, runs into his arms. “You spending the night” your sweet, curly-haired, girl asks him.

“No, I'm sorry honey! Mommy doesn’t let me do the anymore” With that comment, you hit him on the arm as you make your way into the kitchen.

You and Chris decided to co-parent a year ago after a particularly bad falling out about how each of you wanted to raise Isa. You also just had different goals in life that just didn’t meet each other's so you decided to call it quits and just live separately. Besides all of the disagreements, you both still find a way to get along and raise a beautiful little girl.

Chris follows you into the kitchen with Isa in his arms. As he sets her at the table for breakfast he notices a big bouquet lying on the counter.  “Where’d you get these from, Trader Joe’s,” he says with a giggle.

“No, you fool. I got them from…someone”  You say, putting eggs on your daughter's plate. 

Chris’s smile instantly falls from his face as you look at the big smile that just appeared on yours. “What do you mean? Like, you went on a date with someone” he says as he circles the counter to stand next to you. 

“Why do I have to go on a date to get flowers? Maybe he gave them to me just for fun”

“He? What the hell do you mean he”

“Chris! Don’t curse in front of my child” You whisper, waving a spatula in his face. You both turn to see Isa staring at you both, eggs stuffed in her mouth.

You both mentally agree to go into the guest room to argue while she finishes eating.

“What’s his name”

“None of your business Christopher”

“Does Isa know about him?” he said, crossing his arms with furrowed eyebrows.

“No Chris! I went on one date with him and I'm not just gonna let her around anybody” Chris lets out a sigh as he sits himself on the bed.

“It’s been a year man. I need to get some too”

“What makes you think I'm getting anything” You quirk your eyebrow at the boy as he sits up on the bed.

“I'm serious y/n! I haven’t been with anyone since we broke up” he explains as he walks closer. He looks deeply into your eyes, waiting for a response from you. You by instinct put your hand on his arms as you lean in closer to him, inches away from his face.

“Aww…that sounds like a huge you issue” With that being said, you walk away to go get Isa ready for daycare.

After what felt like an hour, Chris follows you to meet you in the kitchen.

“I can take her today,” He says as he notices you packing the rest of Isa’s lunch. “You don’t have to do that Chris,” You say as you put the glittery lunch box into her purple backpack.

“Of course I can! I didn’t get my license for nothing” he states, standing proudly.

You roll your eyes as you shove her backpack into his hands, before bending down to tie Isa’s shoes.

“Have a good day princess! Make sure daddy walks you in ok” Isa nods her head as she gives you a kiss on the cheek.

“Aw damn, I forgot something,” Chris says as he pretends to look around.

“What is it” Before you can say anything else Chris sneakily gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before grabbing Isa and running out the door, the little girl giggling in his arms.

You yell Chris's name with a giggle before running behind him to see him putting Isa snug in her car seat.

Watching him, you couldn't help but think that there is no one else you would rather have to be your baby daddy.

[imsuperhungry]

​🇫​​🇦​​🇮​​🇱​​🇺​​🇷​​🇪​

ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵃʸ "ᵗᵒᵒ ��ᵃᵗᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ, ᵍᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ʰᵉᵃᵈˡᵒᶜᵏ" ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

001

"Yesss, work it, Daisuke!" you squeal, dissolving into giggles. Daisuke, draped in his older sister's shimmering prom dress, gleams under the soft glow of his bedroom light, the sequins catching every flicker like little stars in a galaxy. You insisted that, if he truly wanted to claim "baddie" status—his words, not yours—he had to accessorize with the pearl earrings and matching bracelets his sister had left behind. They were practically a requirement, after all.

He strutted across the room, attempting his best catwalk, striking poses like he was a Victoria's Secret Angel. This felt like his new identity, and not the loser 19 year old who begged you to play apex trios with him.

"My catwalk's flawless, huh?" he says, kicking one leg in front of the other with exaggerated flair, dramatically swaying his hips like someone fresh out of a questionable hip surgery rather than Shalom Harlow. As he struts toward the mirror, he pretends to wipe away an imaginary smudge of lipstick, then bites his lip and squints his eyes, critically evaluating his reflection like a true fashionista—or so he’d like to think.

"Hell yes," you reply, though hell no is what you really want to say. A soft, stifled giggle escapes you, lingering for a moment before you shake your head at his utterly ridiculous antics. With a small sigh, you turn your attention back to the glowing TV screen in front of you.

It played a Pokémon card unboxing video, something Daisuke had begged you to watch with him. He was such a geek about it—not that you could judge, considering you were just as bad. Maybe that shared nerdy enthusiasm was why the two of you had stayed inseparable ever since you were five.

You remember the day you met him like it was yesterday, a memory so sweet it still warms your heart. He walked past you in kindergarten, proudly wearing a Sonic shirt that immediately caught your eye. There was something magnetic about him—his pure, unassuming aura had a way of drawing people in, making them either wish to be him or to be near him. You remember the moment you saw it—you thought, oh, hell yeah. That Sonic shirt sealed the deal; you just *had* to be his friend.

You’d walked over to where he was sitting at lunch and complimented his shirt. His face lit up instantly, and he grinned wide, proudly showing off the gap where his left front tooth used to be. That grin of his had a way of making you feel a little less out of place in the chaotic, noisy cafeteria.

Without saying much, the two of you quietly ate lunch together, a comfortable silence settling between you. Occasionally, he’d share some of the chankonabe his mom had lovingly packed in his matching Sonic lunchbox, a gesture that felt like the beginning of something special. When lunch ended, you naturally gravitated toward each other, making your way to music class. That is, until chaos erupted behind you—a piercing scream announcing that some poor kid had just shit his pants and was now throwing a full-blown tantrum.

Well, maybe the memory wasn't that sweet after all. 

But look at you now! His mom knows everything about you—your name, your age, your birthday, your favorite color, and even the exact face you made that one time you accidentally ate a Tide Pod when you were six and left unsupervised in the kitchen. She'd probably recount that day with a laugh if she ever wanted to embarrass you, but instead, she just treated you like family, as if you’d always been a part of their world.

You'd spent so much time at his house that one Christmas, his parents surprised you with a bed in Daisuke's room. No more cramming yourself onto the couch when you stayed over. It had become your room too, in a way—a space where you felt just as at home as he did, where the lines between friendship and family blurred into something comfortable and familiar.

Speaking of parents, as Daisuke struck poses like the diva he was in front of the mirror, you half-watched a Pokémon card pull, trying to decide if it was worth your time. His mom walked in, practically glowing with excitement, her infectious enthusiasm filling the room. But that grin faded fast when she looked up from closing the door and saw her grown son standing there in a big, sparkly pink dress.

You couldn't help but cackle as Daisuke turned to face his mom upon hearing the door open. His expression was pure humiliation, like he had just been caught doing something way worse than wearing a sparkly pink dress. Meanwhile, his mom looked like she had just received the devastating news that her dreams of ever having grandchildren had been shattered. Her face froze in shock, and you could practically see her soul leave her body. For a brief moment, you almost felt bad for him—but that feeling vanished as soon as you saw the look on his face. 

"Mom... I swear, I just w—" Daisuke started, but his words were quickly cut off as his mom raised a hand, a silent plea for him to just stop. Her eyes closed for a moment, taking a deep breath as if she were preparing herself for something far worse than this.

For a few minutes, she stood there, her gaze fixed on the ground, as if she were trying to hold back tears. Daisuke shot you a glare, but you couldn’t help the silent chuckles escaping from you as you lay on his bed. The tension was thick in the air, and after what felt like an eternity, she finally let out a deep sigh. Slowly, she raised her head, her smile returning—but it was strained, the edges of her lips twitching as if it were taking all her strength to keep it in place.

"So, I remembered the conversation we had the other night, Daisuke," she began, her voice light and almost teasing now, as if the earlier tension had slipped away. "And I remember how you said you wanted to start making your own money." She paused, her eyes sparkling with excitement, a hint of pride in her expression. "Well, for the past few days, I've been looking, and guess what? I found you a job!"

Daisuke's face lit up instantly, his excitement bubbling over, though it was clear he hadn’t quite grasped the reality of the situation. His mind immediately jumped to the one thing he could already picture: finally buying all those skibidi toilet t-shirts he'd been eyeing for ages. He’d begged both of his parents for months, but neither of them had even bothered to humor him.

"You're going to space!" she exclaimed, her excitement practically bubbling over, as if she were announcing the most thrilling news in the world. But Daisuke's smile faltered almost immediately, his enthusiasm evaporating the second he processed her words. His mind struggled to grasp the meaning behind them, and his face twisted in confusion.

You couldn't help but snicker at his stunned expression. He looked like someone had just told him his favorite anime was being turned into a live-action film by the worst studio imaginable. There was still some humor in it, but it was the kind that felt wrong—like laughing at a joke that wasn’t funny anymore, but you couldn’t help yourself.

"...What?" was all he managed to say, his voice barely more than a whisper. He didn’t even acknowledge your laughter, too caught up in trying to process what his mom had just said. His mind was clearly short-circuiting, and you could practically see the gears grinding in his head as he tried to make sense of it.

"Yup!" she chirped, turning to you with a grin. "You too, honey! Your mom and I talked about it, and we thought this would be the best option for you!" Suddenly, all humor drained from your face, replaced by a growing sense of disbelief. 

"Yeah, it's not so funny now, is it?!" Daisuke teased, flashing a grin in your direction. You rolled your eyes, still trying to wrap your head around it. Okay, maybe it was *a little* funny—but only a little. The idea of spending three months in space, of all places, seemed absurd, and yet here you were, with no say in the matter.

"Well, your guys' shifts start next week, so get to packing! It's going to be three months, I think!" she said with a wink before shutting the door behind her. You and Daisuke just stared at each other in stunned silence for a moment, both of you processing the absurdity of it all. Then, Daisuke groaned, slumping against the wall with a heavy sigh. Three months in space... and neither of you had any idea how to feel about it yet.

[cyarikaplease]

You done?

dom!din Djarin x brat!reader

Din shuts you up in the best way possible.

“You done?” Din asks, sitting and watching you pace back and forth in the storage area of the Crest. There’s a hint of amusement in his voice. He’s enjoying watching you bitch at him. You don’t even know what you’re bitching about anymore, probably something about what Din did or didn’t do. Something about tripping over his blaster he left on the floor and laughing when you stubbed your toe…

“Not even close.”

“Mhm,” he says, stifling a chuckle. He’s sitting with his thighs spread wide open in a full man-spread, leaning back against the wall of the Crest. He would be so attractive if he wasn’t so irritating right now. 

“What’s so funny?” you ask, stopping dead in your tracks and folding your arms. 

“Nothing,” he says. He’s definitely smirking under that helmet.

“No, tell me,” you press.

“Just waiting for you to shut up,” he chuckles. 

“Make me,” you reply. It’s your turn to wear a sly grin now. 

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” he says, rising from the crate he was sitting on and sauntering over to you. 

He pushes you up against the wall, grabbing your hands and pinning them above your head. He brings his helmet beside your ear, talking to you in a low, gravelly tone. 

“What happens when you act like a brat?”

“…I get punished.”

“That’s right, cyar’ika.”

You gulp and he chuckles, moving one of his hands on your inner thigh and feeling you shudder at his touch. 

“Strip and wait for me in the bunk,” he commands.

He releases your hands and you do as you’re told, removing your clothes and sitting on the cot's edge. You hear him rifling through one of the shelves. You know exactly what he’s looking for; the blindfold. 

Din doesn’t normally use the blindfold. He understands all too well having some sort of barrier on your head, depriving you of your senses. He only busts out the blindfold when you’re being a bad girl. 

He returns with the silky black fabric in his hands, leaning against the doorframe in the bunk. 

“Time for your punishment,” he says, walking towards you and crouching down in front of the cot to meet your eye level. 

You let out a groan as he begins to wrap the blindfold around your head, prompting him to stop and ask, “Are you complaining?”

“No!” you say quickly. 

“That’s what I thought.”

The blindfold is secured around your head. You can’t see a thing, relying on your other senses. Goosebumps prick your skin in anticipation of his touch. You hear his gloves hitting the floor and his hands pressing you down lightly onto the cot. His warm skin against you sets your nerves aflame, already shuddering in desire and need for him. 

“Patience, cyar’ika,” he reminds you. 

You hear the hiss of his modulator and kriff, he’s taking his helmet off. This is so unfair. 

Another groan escapes your lips and all of a sudden his face is hovering over yours. 

“What did I say?”

You don’t respond, only uttering a bratty wine. 

“I think you need to be punished even more now,” he tuts, pulling back and sitting on the edge of the cot by your thighs. 

“What?? No, I’ll be good. I swear!”

“Too late,” he teases. 

He spreads your thighs apart, his face inches away from your cunt. His breath sends a shiver up your spine as he watches how wet you’re getting already. 

“So wet. So ready for me,” he says, swiping two fingers up and down your entrance. 

You whine again, aching for more of his touch, more stimulation. 

“You don’t get to cum without my permission. Got it?”

“Fine,” you pout. 

“Do better,” he commands. 

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir,” you whine. 

“Good girl,” he praises. 

His words make you melt. He moistens his fingers with his mouth, sliding one inside you slowly. He takes his time curling his singular digit against your walls, feeling how wet you are for him; how bad you want him already. He pushes up against your g-spot, eliciting a moan from you. 

“You want more, don’t you, pretty girl?”

“Please, sir,” you whine. 

“Beg.”

“Please, sir, I can’t take it anymore. I’ll be a good girl, I swear!”

“Fine,” he sighs, faux annoyance in his voice, “Since you asked nicely.”

He inserts another finger, working your cunt closer and closer to the edge of orgasm. He’s talented with his fingers and it makes sense, being that he could never really eat a girl out, until you. 

Just when you think you can’t hold on any longer you ask, “Can I cum please?”

“Not yet.”

“I can’t hold on much longer,” you whine. 

“I said not yet,” he reminds you. 

But it’s a good thing he made you wait, because he brings his tongue to your clit, making swirls around it as he fingers you. 

“Sir, please. I can’t-”

He cuts you off with a hum of approval against your clit. Your hands reach down between your legs and grasp his hair, tugging on his curls while you cum against his face. Your cunt flutters around his fingers as the pleasure built up in your core spreads outwards, infecting your limbs with waves of euphoria. 

He pulls away once you’re done, wasting no time to be inside you already. He pulls his cock out of his flight suit and gives it a few strokes, before settling in between your thighs and entering you in one clean motion, without any warning. 

“Din… Ah!” you gasp in surprise. 

“You can take it,” he commands in a husky voice, drawing his hips back and slamming into you. 

You nod and that’s when he grabs your chin, keeping your face steady and fixed on him. You’d give anything in the galaxy to rip this blindfold off already. 

“Open,” he says with a squeeze on your chin. 

You open your mouth and he leans down, his mouth hovering over yours. He spits in your mouth, closing it shut with his hand. 

“Good girl,” he praises, kissing you passionately while picking up the pace and slamming into you unforgivingly. 

You moan against his lips and he pulls back to ask, “Pretty girl gonna cum already?”

“C-Can I?” you ask with a shaky breath. 

“Are you gonna keep acting like a brat?”

“No, sir.”

“Cum on my cock,” he commands again, finishing his command with a slam of his hips. 

You cum around his cock, walls fluttering and pulsating around him. Your orgasm pulls his own from him, painting your insides with his cum. He lets out a mangled, unmodulated groan as he finishes, a rare sound for you but nevertheless a treat every time. 

He pulls out of you and lays down next to you on the cot. You hear his modulator hiss as his helmet is replaced on his head followed by his hands undoing your blindfold. 

“I really am sorry about your toe,” he says with a chuckle. 

“It’s okay,” you laugh, looking over at him, “But I am gonna act like a brat again.”

“That was always a given.”

[maryjanewatsonparkers]

Mary Jane grew frustrated. Neither of them were refusing to see the other's perspective. He kept arguing over and over that what he had said and done while the thing took over him wasn't him, but hearing Peter say it, his voice, the way he looked at her, it was something she couldn't not erase from her mind so easily. The one person she never thought would say those things was suddenly saying it and it brought her back to a time where her parents treated her the way Peter did. The way he unearthed every single one of her insecurities was just painful. MJ wished Peter understood that. "Yeah it wasn't you willingly saying it, but you said it. You said it and you broke my heart," she whispered and shook her head. Mary Jane ran a hand through her hair as she tried to grasp everything that had happened. It was bad enough she barely got any sleep after Peter's sudden disappearance for a whole damn week, but then after that, he disappeared again, this time being infected by something and attacking the people that cared about him. The two sat in silence, MJ sighing and standing up. She was about to walk to the kitchen when she then turned to glance at Peter. Shaking her head, MJ went into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. She mostly left the room because the silence was killing her. It felt weird having such a silence with her husband, foreign almost. Grabbing the glass of water, she headed back into the living room and placed it in front of Peter as a peace offering as sorts before siting on the couch opposite him. "A-Are you hurt?"

Peter let out a big sigh, his hand running down his face. He was frustrated. There was no denying that. And unfortunately, he wasn’t the best at hiding or holding back his emotions. There was a reason why he was known as such a hot head. But he really was trying his best to hold back. Trying. Very hard. Biting down on his bottom lip as MJ talked about what she was going through because of this whole thing, he sighed and crossed his arms. He was so tired. He was so tired and restless and on high alert and he had a million things running through his head like MJ and Reed and the stupid symbiote suit and the church. There was so much that he really had to put all his energy to focus on MJ and MJ alone. And when she started to spew some nonsense about him hating her, his arms dropped to the side. He stepped forward before remembering their dilemma and he stopped his tracks, shaking his head. “What are you talking about? Mary Jane, what are you even saying? I didn’t come back hating you? I didn’t hate you! That wasn’t even me. I get that it’s hard for you, but that wasn’t me. That… thing was making me act out. It was making me rage. But that wasn’t me. Those thoughts aren’t even in my head. Ever! It just knew how to get to you. It’s smart. Too smart. And it used that against us. Don’t you get it? It wasn’t me.” And that thing was running free out there. It was dangerous and Peter had no idea where to even begin looking for it. Rubbing the right side of his temples, he took in a deep breath to try and calm himself. “I’m sorry. Okay? I’m sorry. I won’t go. I’ll just…” He stepped around in the spot that he was before shrugging. “I’ll just… I’ll just stay here. Okay? If that’s what you need, I’ll just stay here.” That was probably for the best. It wasn’t like Peter was going to be able to sleep anyway and he wouldn’t want to be tossing and turning in their bed keeping MJ awake. If she even wanted to sleep in the same bed as him to begin with.

[asgardianechoes]

It’s Nice to Have a Friend

Loki x Reader Slight Angst + Fluff

Summary: Loki is imprisoned for life, and you, his childhood friend, decide to visit him.

Inspired by the song It’s Nice to Have a Friend by Taylor Swift.

Note: It’s written in third person, and the pronouns at the beginning are she/her. It switches to the pronoun you after a while.

Word Count: 1.6k

Pacing around in his small cell, Loki was seething. His head still couldn’t get around what had happened to him. Imprisoned for life. How? How could Odin dare? Well, he thought miserably, staring into the opposite cell, I suppose he did always favor Thor. The thought stabbed him deep in the heart. He was always shoved aside. Always second. Always alone.

The thought of staying in this small, public yet private area for the rest of his four thousand years of living was painful. He didn’t want to stay here. Why didn’t his mother do anything? Bringing him books was nice, he supposed, but wouldn’t she try to save him, at the very least? Because she’s not… his thought trailed off. He couldn’t bring himself to think that. He loved her. He truly did.

It was the middle of the night, he could sense it, even if the dungeon was underground and had no windows. A distant patter of someone scurrying across the landing caught his attention. Man, it was hard, trying to fall asleep under these blazing lights. He swung his legs off the bed with little enthusiasm, sighed deeply, and walked towards the large window that exposed him to everyone who looked.

He wasn’t surprised when he saw the veiled shadow walk hurriedly, as if wanting to get something over with. What totally normal was, because no one liked to be here anyways, prisoner or not. What did surprise him was the flash of [h/c] hair that flew behind them, her steps marching toward his cell. His cell. A flash of memory flew past in his head, remembering. No, it can’t be. She wouldn’t… not after this…

Once she came to a halt in front of his giant window, he put on a tragic version of his signature smirk. But of course. He should’ve known. It was just another person about to rant how bad of a person he was. Just another being, about to tell him just now terrible and unworthy he’d been. But the person in front of his cell did neither. After a while of silent staring, she took her cloak off, revealing the one person he’d wished not to see: you.

You looked at him with tragedy glowing in your eyes. You’d never wanted to see him there, never. You knew of his familial troubles, but never knew he’d take it this far. It hurt, to see him like this. Imprisoned and lost. With no one’s support.

His heart also skipped a beat. How long had it been since he’d seen you? He couldn’t remember. He only knew that it was a lot longer than he wanted it to be. He doesn’t enjoy hurting people, especially not you. You were the only friend he had as a child, and never turned away from him, even after knowing he was a Frost Giant. You didn’t care about what being he was. You cared only about him. You were his sole glimmer of light in his realm of darkness. You led him out of sadness and misery. But he betrayed you. He left you, without thinking twice. Or maybe he didn’t think at all.

‘Why are you here,’ he asked, his voice determined but with a slight hint of longing, ‘Have you come to gloat? To mock? You’re just like the others, aren’t you? Just here to see me break, to see me fall.’

You stared back into his blue eyes but doesn’t say anything. This certainly wasn’t what she expected him to say when she decided to visit him.

‘Well?’ he hissed, his voice laced with venom and a sliver of guilt, ‘Say something!’ His voice raised.

You merely looked back at him, looking away when he half yelled at her. Guilt filled his entire being. He couldn’t- Why was he-

When you glanced back, your eyes were shining with unshed tears. You opened your mouth, your voice about to break. ‘I came,’ you whispered hoarsely, ‘because I missed you.’

These words hit Loki with a pang. I missed you. They echoed in his head, awakening every nerve and bringing out all the guilt that he hid away. His breathing became ragged, shallow. Before he could properly react, however, you pressed on.

‘You were gone for a year, I thought… I thought… I thought I lost you,’ you said, tears falling freely from your eyes. Every bat of your eyelids poured more down, until they collected at your chin and dripped onto the dungeon floor. Shakily, she steps through the barrier and leaves very little space between them. She stared up at him with her [e/c] eyes.

‘I was so worried,’ she said, taking his hand in her own and pressing her forehead against his chest. ‘I missed you,’ she repeated, fully leaning into him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Oh, how you missed his scent, his clothes, everything. He had meant so much to you. How many nights you’d curl up in his old room and cry. How many times hearing his name brought you new tears.

Slowly, his head came around. Tears were welling up in his eyes, too. He loved you too… But would he ever be able to love you like he did before? Before… a feeling of regret washed over him. If only he didn’t let go. If only he didn’t fling himself off the Bifrost… then maybe everything would’ve been alright…

His arms crawled up your back, holding you close. The emotions flying around his head was making him dizzy, unsure of what to do. Only two words made it past his mouth: ‘Don’t go.’

It wasn’t just an order. It was a plea, only found in the most desperate people in the world. Now he understood what people meant when they said that the most hurt people smile the brightest. Because they know. They know that everything is over. That everything will finally be alright.

You hugged him tighter. ‘I won’t,’ you told him quietly, your words slightly muffled by his clothes, ‘I won’t leave you. Not ever. I’ll stay with you, even after you go to Valhalla.’

Loki’s tears fell down his cheeks, his heart swelling. How he’d missed this. How he’d missed your voice, your soft body pressed to his. The gratefulness he had in himself was barely describable through words. In that moment, he felt like the happiest man alive. He was so damn glad you were there. Always there.

‘I never meant to hurt you, or any of them,’ he said softly, one of his hands coming up to pat your head. You nodded, showing your agreement. ‘Why,’ he gulped as he pressed on, ‘why don’t you… hate me like the others?’ Your answer didn’t come late.

‘Because I know you better than they do. I know you didn’t mean it.’ Your voice was soothing, like the fireplace in winter. ‘I know you’d never do something like that. Never. I know that it was him that forced you.’

His heard clenched when you mentioned Thanos. ‘That madman…’ his voice quivered, ‘He tortured me to the brink of insanity. Took pleasure in watching me break.’ You pressed further into him. ‘I know,’ you repeated, ‘I know. And therefore I love you.’

His heart skipped a beat again. Looking down at you, he asked, his voice barely a whisper: ‘Do you know, or even have the slightest idea, what I’ve become?’

‘You’re the exact same as before, just… you know. Tortured and broken.’ You were uncertain when you said this. You knew he was sensitive on this topic. You knew him so well.

‘Do you know what I’ve done?’ he asked, his tone sinking drastically, as if he didn’t want to know the answer.

‘Well, yes.’ You replied again, trying to sound as reassuring as possible.

‘Do you know,’ he was fully shaking by now, ‘what monster lives inside me…?’

You lifted your head, staring into the depths of his eyes. The only things you found were sorrow, fear, and guilt. Choosing your words, you said:

‘Yes, and it’s a monster that was born out of darkness. And before that empty darkness, there was a heart, a source of light and warmth that lit up the whole place. You see, hearts need to be fed with love, otherwise they die away. That’s exactly what happened to yours.’ You traced your index finger over where his heart was, drawing a shaky breath out of him.

‘Without the heart, the place was submerged in darkness, and out of that darkness grew a monster. Something people despise. But all that it’s trying to do…’ you trailed off, bringing your hands off his waist to hold his, ‘is to not let anyone else grow a new heart in that blank, because it’s afraid that if it ever happens, it’ll be broken again.’ A second of silence reigned between you, your breathings heavy. Finally, he spoke.

‘Will you… grow me a new heart…?’ he asked, his eyes filled with plea, ‘Will you fill that unbearable blank?’

You answered without hesitation. ‘Yes, of course. And I’ll make sure it’ll never be broken ever again.’

Loki’s eyes glowed as you said this. It was as if someone had taken off the invisible weight weighing him down. He sighed in both relief and gratitude, bending down to kiss you. You returned his kiss, hungry for him.

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered against your lips, his breath mixing with your own. ‘The pressure killed me. I couldn’t bear-‘ you shushed him, closing the distance between your lips once more. His heart lifted, rising up into his chest. It was just as you described. Your love and care made a new heart bloom in his chest.

‘I’m so damn glad I have you,’ he whispered again, his eyes closing, feeling you. ‘I must thank you. For everything. You made me feel… alive.’

You smiled. ‘But of course. It’s nice to have a friend, isn’t it?’

Hope you enjoyed it!

Tags: @vbecker10 @simplyholl @mischiefmaker615 @lokisgoodgirl

Tell me if you want to be in my taglist!

[awkward-fink]

„Love you, please take care of yourself.” You say, your fingers clutching onto the doorframe so hard you would surely leave imprints behind, but you didn’t care in this moment. Because in front of you stands your husband, lopsided smile on his face, clean shaven and his mohawk freshly touched up by your hands and his careful instructions. "Love ye back, hen. Ah'll be back quicker than ye can believe." He murmurs to you, accent thick and his eyes bright.

You don’t want him to go, you don’t want him to leave you behind again and do something crazy he will tell you all about later (or Gaz will spill the beans, like the time your husband decided to nearly drop a half of a warehouse on his head! Thank you Gaz.).

“It’s jist three months, gie or tak a wee bit, love. Ah’ll be back sune.” “I’m gonna miss you so much, Love.” “Ah'm gonnae miss ye even mair.” “Did you pack the lunch I ma-“ you cant end your sentence as your husband leans into your face, his lips warm and inviting and firm on your own, shutting up every train of thought you had as he kisses you breathless and stupid.

You only remember after you had closed the front door, calmed your racing heart and looked into the kitchen. And there it was, the small package of sandwiches you had made for your husband to take with him, untouched and sloppily wrapped, just like you had placed them there. And the lunch you had made, spaghettis with tomato sauce, was also untouched. Your heart sank.

----------------------------------------

“-and then he just goes off to wherever and leaves behind the meal I made for him! This isn’t fair, Leonora!” you pant at the end of your tirade, angrily huffing and growling as you drink the tea your friend and neighbor made in one go, nearly burning your tongue in the process.

“Oh dear, well, honey, how do I say this…” your elderly neighbor wiggled her glasses with one finger, tilting her head from left to right, the curls on top of her head not even moving once. (Soap had once joked that Leonora put so much gel and hairspray into her mountain of curls, she could headbutt any men or women into submission with only one headshake.) “Your food is…” Your shoulders shake and sag as you watch your friend try to think of a way to describe your food in a way that would not totally mortify you or send your soul into hell.

“Bad? A disaster? Hellish? Even a demon would recoil from that torture?” “No, Honey- what I meant to say was, that you have a talent.” Your posture straightens and your eyes glimmer in hope- “You have the talent to burn water.” – only to turn watery and gloomy as your friend goes on with her words.

“That’s not nice…” “But sadly true.”

Leonora leans over the table to pat your shoulder gently, giving you a smile like only a loving grandmother can give. Your eyes turn towards the forgotten sandwiches, which looked even sadder than before and yes, maybe it smelled a little off, but it surely couldn’t be that bad…

You both watch as the single cucumber slice slowly slides down at the side, giving a squelching plopping sound as it hit the table. There is silence for a few seconds before you turn hurt and sad eyes on Leonora, who only pats your shoulders again.

“Kyle told me, that Johnny prefers the mess hall food over mine. The mess hall! No one likes the food from the mess hall!” you are close to sobbing, clutching the mug of tea to your chest like a lifeline.

“Oh dear... Well, there is one thing we can do.” “There is?” “I meet my other friends every Tuesday night for a bit of cards and cooking. How about you come beforehand, and I can teach you some recipes? And the base techniques of cooking?” “You would do that for me?” “Yes, dear. Can’t have your man avoiding home because you cant cook. Think about the children you will have to feed someday!” “You are a saint! Thank you! Please, I beg of you, help me!”

You felt better now, Leonora would help you, she would rescue your culinary skills from the depths of nothing they were at and rise you up towards normal housewife-level meals, you were sure! This would be a piece of cake!

---------------------------------------------------

IT WAS NOT A PIECE OF CAKE! Leonora was menace, a demon from hell! She was a strict and harsh teacher, and you lost count of all the times she hit your arse with a wooden cooking spoon. It felt like you lived through a montage of training! It started with only Tuesdays and then Thursdays as well, and Sundays to help with baking for church! And then Leonoras friends, a gang of grannies, took it upon themselves to further your training!

You chopped and sliced and diced and julienned until your hands could do it perfectly in your sleep (“That is not uniform, this piece of carrot it slightly off! Again!” Julia barked at you, the waif of a woman poking you with her bony fingers until you got it right).

You helped with shopping, hauling load after load of ingredients, having to run back to the shops every time you got some of the listed items wrong (“This is a bitter melon and not a cucumber, run again little chicken, run again!” Tia Zia cackled after you, sending you right back out into the rain again to run to the store before it closed in 5 minutes).

Soon you were frying (“Make it hotter, the potatoes will soak up all the oil if its not hot enough!”), baking (“Is that salt in the cookies? Honey where was your head?”), kneading Pasta from scratch and finally, you cooked a whole meal for the gang of furious grannies and felt like you were back in school, in your exams, your heart racing as the committee of specialists discussed your results before turning to you with hard eyes and grim faces.

“Dear, this food is-“your heart sank and raced at the same time, your stomach dropping as Aunty Angela cracked her neck as she tried to look at you sternly, “this food is good. It is edible and even tastes better than what my niece Lilly makes. Congratulations!”

----------------------------------------------

“You sure you don’t want to go to another diner before I get you home to your wife?” Johnny snorted and rubbed his overfilled stomach. He was sure he was having a foodbaby growing in there after this morning and this midday. His teammates had stuffed him with pancakes and hashbrowns and every other item of breakfast they could get their hands on and then they did it again at lunch! He was so full; he would hurl if he had to eat another piece of food!

“Naw, it’s awright. Ah’m fair burst, ah cannae eat another thing. An’ Gaz promised he’d send me a care package in a few days.” He smiles at his Captain, rubbing his bulging stomach and fighting down a burp that was stuck in his throat. “Yeah well... next mission is not so far away, no worry. And Ghost packed the rest of the MRE’s into your bag for emergencies.” “Ta, Captain. She's a braw wife in everythin' else, but her cookin' is…” he falls silent and only grins. And then the car is already coming to a stop and his heart beats faster in his chest. He is so close to take his wife into his arms again, to kiss her silly and then sweep her off her feet and into the bedroom, where- “Cheers fur the lift, Captain. Right nice o’ ye!.” “Was on the way. See you soon, stay strong.” “A'll dae that! See ye in a few days tae weeks!" Johnny gives a sloppy salute before rolling out of the car, dragging his luggage out from the backseat to lug it right after him.

And then he is off, loping up the way towards the front door, which is already opening and his wife, the love of his life stands before him, her eyes shining and her hair glossy and her skin looking silky smooth and soft and he can’t wait to wrap his rough hands around her and sink into her softness, be back home again.

He doesn’t remember what he said, or what she wanted to say, his lips are on hers, his arms hold her tight to himself and they stumble inside. And then he comes to a stop, his nose twitching as he sniffs the air, his head turning towards the kitchen. “Sointhing smells awfy guid.” He murmurs and stares at you as if you had grown a second head. “Thank you, it’s a new recipe I tried.” He swallows, his mouth watering. His eyes roaming over her happy glowing face. “Ye... ye cooked this?" “Yeah. And don’t worry, I followed the recipe to a T.” You beam at him, your hands stroking over his arms and shoulders and down his torso, making sure he was alright, holding onto him with delight and happiness radiating from you.

And Johnny, still filled with food and stuffed to the gills with cheap cheeseburgers from lunch, takes another whiff before a soft, but cautious smile steals over his lips. “Ah could dae with some food."

----------------------------------------------

He must have died. It tasted great.

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Beneath the Bookshelves | BakuDeku 🌶

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Katsuki Bakugo x Izuku Midoriya 💋

Summary: A humble repost of my work b/c I think this one flew a lil under the radar when I posted a few months ago! It's Class A's 3rd year at UA, and Bakugo & Izuku are 18 years old. Katsuki and Izuku have been hot for each other for years, but have never discussed it. Katsuki asks Izuku to accompany him to the library during finals week, and the two do some *studying* amongst the shelves.

Genre: Smut, Romance, S*xual Tension

CW: MDNI!, A18+, kissing, romance, sexual tension, hand jobs, dirty talk, teasing

💕Link to My Master List 💕

Beneath the Bookshelves

“Hey, nerd. I need something from the library – let’s go.”

Katsuki is leaning against the doorframe of Izuku’s dorm room, arms crossed. It’s a Saturday evening towards the end of the semester, so most of their classmates are in their rooms studying or training for the practical exams. Up until this moment, Izuku has had his head buried in his math textbook, trying desperately to wrap his mind around quadratic equations. He was just thinking about texting Ida or YaMomo for help when Katsuki appeared.

“Oh, hey Kacchan.” Izuku says brightly, looking up at his friend. Over the past 3 years of school, Katsuki has really filled out. He’s less wiry, more muscular and solid. His jawline is more defined than ever, and now sports a soft layer of blonde stubble. His mouth is set in its typical hard line, a sure sign that the young hero is in a bad mood. Izuku’s stomach does a summersault as he pries his eyes away from Katsuki’s soft cupids bow. “For sure, I could use a break. What do you need?”

“It doesn’t matter. Let’s get going.” Katsuki jerks his head in the direction of the library and Izuku scrambles up to stow away his math books before following along. They walk through the dorm and out onto the quad in silence, Izuku looking at his friend quizzically.

It’s a nice night out – the stars sparkle up above them and a light breeze dances through Izuku’s recently cut hair. He’s feeling nostalgic as he looks at Katsuki walking ahead of him, watching as his friend angrily stomps towards the UA library building up ahead. How many times have they walked like this – Katsuki marching irritably, Izuku a few paces behind? He smiles softly as they cross the library’s threshold and the warm light of the building bathes them both in gold.

At this hour of night, the library is practically devoid of life. The only soul in the space appears to be the elderly librarian who sits sorting books at the front desk. They nod at her as they make their way towards the stairs and to the upper floors. Izuku pauses at the second floor, looking towards the math section. It’s their first final, so naturally he assumes that’s the sector Katsuki needs to visit. But he’s wrong – Katsuki rolls his eyes at Izuku and continues to stomp up the next flight of stairs. They continue like that – up, up, up until they are at the fifth floor.

The fifth floor of the library is an area Izuku hasn’t spent much time exploring. It’s where all of the oversized books are kept – the art books, the cookbooks, the graphic novels. It’s a space that, unfortunately, the Hero Course students don’t get to frequent. Sure, he’s taken a liberal arts course or two at UA, but the Hero course does not put much emphasis on the arts or culture. So Izuki is surprised when he sees how easily Katsuki navigates the floor and its various rooms, booths and study sections. It’s as if he’s been coming here consistently over the past three years.

The explosion hero leads Izuku to the back of the floor, past a few study rooms and rows of books. Finally, Katsuki looks over his shoulder at Izuku to ensure he is still close behind. The green haired boy is surprised to see a slight blush of embarrassment heating up his friend’s face. Katsuki stops in the architecture section, taking care to push a large shelf slowly to the side. Izuku is surprised when the shelf reveals a small, secret alcove hidden amongst the rows of books. There’s a red cushioned loveseat hidden amongst the shelves. Art and architecture books line the space floor to ceiling. An All Might plush blanket is folded across the side of the couch, and as Izuku enters the space he notices a few pictures and mementos stashed here and there within the shelves. It’s shockingly private and cozy.

“What is this place, Kacchan?” Izuku asks, running a finger along the book spines closest to him. Katsuki rearranges the loose shelving unit, effectively sealing them into the cozy space. Izuku is suddenly hyperaware of how alone they are. He feels Katsuki staring at his back, and a faint flicker of arousal zings up his spine.

“This is where I come to study and get away from all the damn distractions of the dorms.” Katsuki says, deliberately not looking at Izuku as he sits down on one of the loveseat cushions. Izuku looks back over his shoulder and drinks in his friend – Katsuki is sitting comfortably, his long legs crossed casually on the couch. He’s wearing baggy grey sweatpants and a tight fitting black band tee. He looks so casually gorgeous that Izuku feels his heart flutter up to his throat.

“I always wondered where you went off to when we had group study sessions.” Izuku says thoughtfully, peering over to look at a photo of Katsuki and All Might from their first Sports Festival. All Might is grinning and posing – giving the camera two thumbs ups. Katsuki is chained to the podium, the gold metal from the festival clutched in his angry jaws. Izuku reaches out a finger to trace across the photo, touching the photo Katsuki’s harsh jawline. He chuckles before turning back to his friend. “This place is awesome! You deserve a quiet spot with solitude. I know how annoyed you get when everyone is noisy.”

“Yeah. I can dish it out, but I can’t take it.” Katsuki grins, referring to his ability to yell and be a dick around their friend group.

“Thanks for showing me this place.” Izuku sits down next to him on the couch. He’s hyperaware of how his hand is just inches from Katsuki’s. “So what do you need? Did you forget a book here or something?”

Katsuki shifts uncomfortably. “Not exactly. I’ve been really stressed about exams lately. And this being our final year at UA, I’ve been feeling a lot of pressure.”

Izuku nods, he’s definitely been feeling the same way. The pressure and expectations of the future are weighing heavily on all of their shoulders this year. They are Class A – the class that defeated Shigaraki. The class that helped win the war. There are expectations for each of them – they are the new symbols of peace. At times, it feels like the weight of the world is resting upon their young shoulders.

“I understand.” Izuku says empathetically. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help, I’ve been having similar feelings lately as we start to wrap up our first semester as third years.”

“There’s just so much happening right now. I wish I could slow everything down. Do some things over.” Katsuki is deliberately avoiding Izuku’s gaze now. He’s shifting uneasily in his seat, his hip accidentally bumping Izuku’s.

“What would you do over?” Izuku asks blankly. Katsuki ignores him.

“I brought you here because I kinda want to blow off some steam, and you’re the only one who I want to do it with.” Katsuki says, a rosy red blooming in his pale cheeks.

Izuku’s not sure if he’s hearing correctly. Katsuki’s voice has dropped a few octaves, and Izuku can’t imagine how they would possibly “blow off steam” in the cramped quarters of Kacchan’s hidden library den. Unless…?

Izuku turns to his friend, confused. “What do you - ?” But he’s cut off when Katsuki grabs him by the collar and pulls him into a searing kiss. Izuku did not anticipate this, and so he’s caught by surprise. He tumbles backwards with the force of Katsuki’s momentum and ends up awkwardly leaning against the arm of the couch. Katsuki is half on top of him and getting as close as humanly possible. His mouth is hot and wet and impossibly soft as it moves against Izuku’s with a ferocity that only Katsuki can dish out.

It doesn’t take long for Izuku to recover and then respond enthusiastically, throwing his arms around Katsuki’s neck and winding fingers into his soft blonde hair. Katsuki is kissing him desperately, mouth moving and sliding fervently against Izuku’s willing mouth.

“I’ve wanted this…for so….long.” Katsuki huffs out between kisses, his hand moving up to ghost along Izuku’s throat.

“Ah! Kacchan…” Izuku moans as Katsuki moves to kiss down his neck, carefully sussing out the most sensitive spots of Izuku’s skin. The green haired hero is in absolute heaven, enjoying each soft kisses and caresess that Katsuki is kind enough to share.

After a few minutes of desperate kissing, Katsuki realizes what an uncomfortable position Izuku is in. He pulls himself off of the One For All wielder and offers out a hand to Izuku. The green haired teen takes it, and allows Katsuki to pull him out of the plush couch until he’s sitting upright again. They both spend a moment catching their breaths before Izuku turns to face his friend.

“W-what was that?” He asks, breathlessly. His eyes zero in on Katsuki’s plush mouth, practically begging the explosion hero to get back to kissing him.

“I just need to do something physical right now to get out all my energy. And I’ve been wanting to kiss you for God knows how long.” Katsuki leans forward and kisses along Izuku’s flushed freckled face. “Let me keep going?”

Izuku nods, for once he’s not babbling. He snakes his hand up to cup Katsuki’s cheek and pulls the blonde towards him. Their lips meet again and he lets out a soft moan of contentment.

Katsuki brings his hand down to rest on Izuku’s chest, appreciating the toned muscle that’s taught even under his friend’s thick All Might t-shirt. He smooths his hand down towards Izuku’s waist, and dips it under the navy blue t-shirt fabric so that he can fully appreciate his friend’s washboard abs.

“Oh!” Izuku pulls away in surprise at the contact, not used to being touched in such a way. Katsuki takes advantage of the break in kissing and moves to suck and bite at the One For All wielder’s smooth neck. He continues to spread his fingers wide across Izuku’s stomach, sliding his fingers up to feel his strong chest. Izuku is absolute putty in his hands, melting into each touch and kiss. As Katsuki kisses down his neck he glances down to see Izuku is hard in his comfy joggers. Izuku’s cock is outlined clear as day in the thin material. Katsuki smirks and lifts his friend’s shirt up to reveal pale, lightly scarred skin.

“Take this off already.” He practically growls, helping Izuku to pull the fabric over his head. Izuku can’t get it off fast enough, he just wants Katsuki’s hands and mouth back on him as soon as possible.

Katsuki has seen Izuku shirtless countless times – in the locker room, in the dorms, in battle. And each time he’s caught a glimpse of his friend’s unclothed body he’s quickly looked away. Not this time. Katsuki just wants to look and look and look until his eyes no longer work.

Despite the criss-cross of scars across Izuku’s torso and arms, Katsuki thinks he looks absolutely goddamn beautiful. He wonders for a moment if he should say so, if that’s something that people do in these kinds of situations.

“You should take off your shirt, too.” Izuku says huskily, shaking Katsuki from his inner thoughts.

“Oh yeah?” Katsuki says challengingly, a bit more harsh than he intended. Izuku meets his gaze with a level stare. He’s gotten so much tougher in the past few years, his quirk lending him a newfound confidence that he had lacked in their childhood.

“It’s only fair.” The green haired man states, moving to pull Katsuki’s tight shirt off by the sleeves. He doesn’t fight back, allowing Izuku to whip the band tee over his fluffy blonde hair. Izuku’s bright green eyes grow wider as he’s faced to face with Katsuki’s rippling muscles. The blonde is a little more built up than Izuku, but not by much. Katsuki is almost ashamed at the way he goes red under Izuku’s thirsty gaze.

“Kacchan…you’re absolutely gorgeous.” Izuku says reverently, reaching out gentle fingers to caress Katsuki’s exposed flesh. He runs a fingertip down from Katsuki’s collar all the way to his bellybutton, and then bravely traces down the fuzzy blonde happy trail that disappears into his waistband. Katsuki shivers at the contact, having never been touched so lovingly. He bites back a smile.

“And what about you? Looking like a goddamn dream over there.” Katsuki pushes his friend into the couch and moves to straddle him, kissing every bit of exposed flesh he can reach. Izuku is laughing now, wrapping his arms around his friend loosely so he an enjoy the closeness.

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to do to you for a while…” Katsuki whispers as he lightly bites the shell of Izuku’s ear.

“What’s that?” Izuku asks, breathless. His eyes are hazy and he cups his hands around Katsuki’s cheeks and pulls his friend back into a searing kiss. Katsuki all but dissolves into the kiss, sliding his mouth against Izuku’s in the most delicious way.

“You taste so damn good.” He whispers in between kisses, bringing their mouths together again and again. He revels in the feeling of their bare chests pressed flush together. He can feel Izuku’s hardness collide gently with his own through his sweatpants, bringing out a breathy moan from his throat.

He gives Izuku a few more kisses before shifting to sit next to him on the couch once again. He slides his hand down from his friend’s neck, to his chest, and then down his stomach until he reaches the waistband of Izuku’s soft All Might branded joggers.

“I wanna get you off.” Katsuki hisses, sliding his hand on top of Izuku’s hardness and giving him a tantalizing squeeze through his joggers. “Shit, are you not wearing underwear? I can feel you right through these.”

Izuku’s face turns impossibly redder and he splutters out “I had no idea I was going to be whisked away in the middle of studying quadratic equations to hookup with my best friend! Had I known, I would have worn something sexier.”

Katsuki raises his eyebrows. “You own a sexy outfit?”

Izuku looks at him indignantly. “Of course. I own plenty of hot outfits. I exude sexiness at all times.”

Katsuki barks a laugh and slides his hand across Izuku’s clothed cock again, drawing a squeak out of his friend. “Why don’t I believe you?”

“I have, like, 5 other All Might shirts that are considerably sexier than this one.” Izuku manages to say, watching as Katsuki’s hand begins to trace up and down his length. This makes Katsuki belly laugh, he quickly runs through every All Might outfit he’s ever seen Izuku wear in his head.

“The Silver Age shirt is my favorite.” He says, leaning forward to lick a hot stripe up Izuku’s exposed neck.

“Yeah, that is a particularly sensual one.” Izuku grins and then lets out a harsh moan as Katsuki tightens his grip on his dick.

“You okay with this?” Katsuki whispers, all joking aside.

“Y-yeah. Only with you.” Izuku shifts to get more comfortable in the love seat, eyes transfixed on Katsuki’s strong hand. The blonde runs his hand along the edge of Izuku’s joggers again, ghosting a finger beneath the waistband. He brushes his fingers lower and lower, finally caressing the tip of Izuku’s dick with a delicate finger. Izuku makes an embarrassingly high sound in the back of his throat as Katsuki caresses his cock.

“Lose the pants.” He says in a hushed voice, tugging at the joggers with his empty hand. Izuku shifts his hips and makes quick work of discarding the joggers, they land in a heap on the carpeted library floor. Katsuki absentmindedly licks his lips as he takes in the scene - Izuku is now sprawled across the loveseat, stark naked.

The blonde hero can feel his heart beating incessantly as his eyes roam over his friend. In all of his fantasies, he never pictured Izuku looking this goddamn hot. He’s so toned and freckled and lovely. Katsuki sucks in a deep breath as he wraps his hand back around his friend’s heavy cock. Izuku’s biting his lip as he watches his friend start to work at his hard member. Never in his wildest dreams did he think studying would lead to this insane display of intimacy from Katsuki.

Katsuki has never touched someone else’s dick before, so for a moment Izuku’s hardness feels foreign in his callused palm. But as he begins to pump lightly at his friend’s member, he realizes this is really no different from pleasuring himself. He knows his way around his own cock, so of course he can figure out how to work at Izuku’s. He thinks through what he likes when he plays with himself and mimics it on Izuku. He works his way slowly up from base to tip, concentrating on the expanse of skin right below Izuku’s blunt tip.

“Fuuuuuck Kacchan.” Izuku groans out. Katsuki spares him a quick kiss, reveling in the way his friend’s adorable freckles contrast against his blushing skin.

“Yeah, you like that?” Katsuki says smugly, smiling at the way he’s making his friend arch into his touch. He suddenly has a thought. “Oh – hold on.”

Katsuki draws his hand away and Izuku cries out at the loss of contact. “I’ve got somethin’ that’ll make this even better.” Katsuki reaches into his pocket and pulls out a tiny bottle of hand cream. He grins sheepishly at Izuku, who recognizes the bottle as a specialty item the Support Course cooked up to keep Katsuki’s hands from getting too chapped from his explosion quirk. Izuku has seen his friend use the lotion on many occasions, usually on days when he’s stressed with sweaty palms. The lotion helps sooth the hero’s tough skin.

Izuku watches with wide eyes as Katsuki flips open the lotion cap and pours a small dollop in his open palm.

“I bet this’ll make you lose your mind.” Katsuki says, voice low. He closes the bottle and tosses it so that it lands on top of Izuku’s discarded joggers. “Now let’s see…”

Katsuki brings his hands together and rubs the lotion between them, warming it up before he reaches out to smooth it over Izuku’s hardness. The noise that escapes Izuku’s mouth as Katsuki begins to stroke him is sinful. The explosion hero grins mischievously as he works his friend from base to tip, hand gliding along the velvety expanse of Izuku’s cock.

“Kacchan…faster…” Izuku lets his head fall back onto the back of the couch, his eyes half lidded. Who is Katsuki to deny him? He speeds up the pace, feeling his own boner twinge with need in his sweatpants. This is literally the single hottest thing that has ever happened to the two of them.

Izuku is looking absolutely wrecked, and it’s turning on Katsuki more than he ever thought was possible. Izuku opens his eyes a bit and surveys Katsuki lustfully, his gaze tracing the heavy outline of the explosion hero’s cock in his soft grey sweatpants.

“Take off your pants, Kacchan.” Izuku slurs, punch drunk on the way that Katsuki is pleasuring him.

“Nah, I want to put all my focus on you.” Katsuki says almost sweetly. Even he’s surprised at how syrupy his tone has turned. But he’s so blissed out and fucking pumped that he’s finally getting some that he can’t help but let his happiness radiate into his voice.

“Pants off. Now.” Izuku sits up, authority slipping into his voice. For a moment, Katsuki almost forgot about how strong his friend is. The tone Izuku’s using calls back to his dark phase during the war. It causes a shiver to zigzag its way up Katsuki’s spine. He would never admit this, but he was so incredibly horny for his friend’s “Dark Deku” phase. Of course, Katsuki wants his friend to be healthy and happy. He would never want Izuku to relapse back into the emotionally repressed and exhausted vigilante that he once was. But the energy of Dark Deku was so intimidating, so feral. When Izuku dips into that strange and terrifying well of energy, it leaves Katsuki feeling electrified.

“You think you can boss me around Deku?” Katsuki decides to push his luck, throwing around the childhood nickname that he used to use to bully Izuku a few years ago. This elicits exactly the response he was looking for – Izuku sits up, eyes bright. Small flashes of green energy roll across his body in waves as he holds his quirk at bay. Izuku presses his mouth into a hard line, his brows furrowed. His hair stands on end with electricity.

“I said: Pants. Off.” Izuku intones, an untamed energy crackling around him.

Katsuki’s cock pulses at being bossed around and he quickly complies. He stands up and yanks down his sweatpants and boxers in one swift motion, stepping out of them with practiced skill. His erect dick kisses his abs and leaves a sticky smear of pre-cum across his thick muscles. Izuku takes him in, licking his lips as his eyes all but devour Katsuki’s 7 inch monster of a cock.

The explosion hero shifts nervously under his gaze. Izuku is so turned on he’s not even trying to hide his interest in Katsuki’s fit body.

“You like what you see?” Katsuki asks, sticking out his chin defiantly and placing his hands on his hips.

“Oh, yeah. I definitely do.” Izuku says brightly, eyes shining. He looks like he wants to lick Katsuki up and down. He switches back to his devastatingly sexy vigilante voice as he says: “Fuck. Come here. I need to touch you.”

Katsuki rejoins him on the sofa and Izuku reaches over, hovering his hand above Katsuki’s leaking cock.

“Can I - ?” He asks, eyes flashing up to meet Katsuki’s as he waits for permission. Katsuki grins and reaches down, taking Izuku’s hand and moving to place it around his cock. He lets out a hiss of satisfaction as Izuku starts to jerk him off.

“You know, I’ve thought about touching you like this for what feels like forever. I can’t believe I’m actually doing this now.” Izuku babbles, letting his fingers roam across the expanse of his friend’s testicles. He gives him a light squeeze and Katsuki sees stars. “I’ve always thought you were so goddamn beautiful. Your face is so perfect. I love the way your chin dips into a sharp point, the way your hair shines like starlight when you’re flying through the air and activating your quirk.”

Katsuki’s heart squeezes at the words. “I didn’t know you were a fuckin’ poet.” He says, trying to posture. But it’s Izuku – the person who knows him better than anyone on Earth. There’s no need to keep up appearances. Not when his dick is in one of Izuku’s hands, and his heart is in the other. “That means a lot.” He amends, sighing as Izuku starts to pump at him slowly. They sit like that for a moment, eyes locked as Izuku enjoys the feeling of Katsuki’s hardness in his palm.

Soon, the green haired hero realizes that he needs some lubricant to keep the good vibes going, so he spits cleanly into his free hand before adding it to the mix. Katsuki gasps, his soul almost leaving his body as he watches Izuku slide two hands onto his cock. He twists them lightly in opposite directions, pumping as he goes.

“Have you done this before?” Katsuki groans, almost afraid of the answer.

“No.” Izuku says truthfully. “But I’ve imagined all the things I’d do to you if I had you naked. And this is one of them.”

“God fuckin’ dammit.” Katsuki throws his head back at the comment, letting out an easy moan as Izuku continues to pleasure him. “That’s the single hottest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Izuku’s smile shines throughout his face, his eyes beaming down at Katsuki.

“Why didn’t we do this sooner?” He says as he works at Katsuki’s balls again. “I’ve been wanting this for forever.”

“Beats me.” Katsuki groans as his friend tightens his grip. “Move over a little, let me touch you.”

They find a comfortable position that allows them to stroke each other in tandem. They’re both smiling stupidly at each other and kiss lazily. Eventually, the tension and pleasure becomes too great and they can’t concentrate on kissing. Izuku leans forward so that he can touch Katsuki’s forehead with his own in an intimate touch. They’re both gasping and breathless as they bring each other towards completion.

“You gonna cum?” Katsuki intones, speeding up his pace as he jerks off his friend. “I wanna make you cum.”

“K-Kacchan!” Izuku moans out quietly as Katsuki hits a particularly wonderful spot. Katsuki grins and uses his other hand to trace around his balls. He pulses them softly and the green haired hero cries out with pleasure. He tries to keep up a steady pace as he pumps at Katsuki in return, but feels himself getting distracted and sloppy.

“Come on, ‘Zuku.” Katsuki encourages, shortening his friend’s name endearingly. “Show me how good I’m making you feel.”

Izuku is feeling absolutely wrecked and over stimulated, fat tears leaking out of his bright eyes and down across his cheeks.

“Always fuckin’ crying.” Katsuki says huskily as he continues his brutal pace. “I love that about ya.”

At this comment, the build up of pleasure is too great for the One For All wielder.

He loudly cries out “Katsuki!” as he cums hard, thick ropes of cum leaking across Katsuki’s fist and splattering across his pale freckled abs. Katsuki smiles as he continues to pump at Izuku’s cock, pulling him through his orgasm and helping him to come back down again. Izuku’s hand spasms around Katsuki’s dick, bringing the explosion hero to the point of no return as well.

“Ah, shit!” Katsuki sputters as he finishes hard, white sticky cum flowing around Izuku’s hand like a volcanic eruption. He forgets to breathe as his lower body seizes up and then relaxes, pleasure coursing through his veins in a way he’s never felt by jerking off alone. They continue to pump each other’s cocks to completion until they’re both spent, sticky and over stimulated.

They lay there for a moment, naked and trying to catch their breaths.

“Fuckkkk Izuku.” Katsuki finally sighs out, hiding his face behind an arm as he processes what they’ve just done. “That was so fucking hot.”

“And here I thought you just wanted to pick up a math book from the library.” Izuku laughs out weakly. “You tricked me, got me alone, and then seduced me.”

Katsuki laughs at this – lightly at first, and then he’s laughing so hard he can’t breathe. He reaches out and pulls Izuku bodily towards him, interlocking their sweaty limbs and torsos as they both laugh and laugh, entangled in each other. When they finally calm down, Katsuki kisses Izuku’s cheek sweetly.

“You know I wasn’t expecting you to moan my full name there. What a treat.” He teases, noting the way that Izuku avoids eye contact at the comment. “Am I gonna get that treatment every time I make you cum?

“Every time?” Izuku says slowly, as if he can’t believe his ears.

“You didn’t think this was only a one time thing, did you?” Katsuki barks out a harsh laugh, pulling Izuku closer into his embrace. Their both smeared with cum, sweat, lotion and spit – each is desperately in need of a shower. But Katsuki couldn’t care less. “We’re going to need to do this at least ten more times.”

“Right.” Izuku says weakly, he can’t believe his luck. “We’ll need to do this until we truly master it. And that could take weeks.”

“Maybe months.” Katsuki says with a smile, mussing Izuku’s wild green hair.

“Years, even.” Izuku agrees, and he’s beaming. His face is bright and alight with joy as he turns so that he can kiss his friend on the mouth.

“You nerd.” The affection in Katsuki’s voice is so genuine, it makes Izuku’s heart squeeze with fondness. “You know you’re stuck with me now.”

“Always have been.” Izuku says easily, settling into Katsuki’s arms and letting his eyes slide closed as he basks in the afterglow. “Always will be.”

FIN.

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

2 Minus 1 - Act Two

Seungcheol is doing good without you. Really good, in fact! He’s got a great job, has his own apartment, and has many friends surrounding him. He’s even done some dating in the three years that you’ve been gone. On some blissful days, you don’t even cross his mind. But when you reappear in his life, he has to come to terms with the fact that he might not be doing as good as he thought he was. 

Genres: ANGST with a little bit of fluff here and there.

Word count: 6.4k

Requested? Yes!

You can find the series masterlist here.

Seungcheol stretches with a groan as soon as he hangs up the phone. He’s worked through the normal lunch hour and normally wouldn’t do that, but the client he needed to speak with is in a different time zone and he said he was flexible. It’s not a lie, but still, his stomach grumbles loudly at the thought of food, or rather the smell that’s wafting into his office when the door opens. 

“Man, am I happy to see you,” he says jokingly as Minghao sets a styrofoam box on the corner of his desk. Seungkwan, Vernon, and Chan have piled in as well, making themselves comfortable on the couch in the corner and in the chairs in front of Seungcheol’s desk. They’re incredibly casual considering he’s their manager. They go out for dinner and drinks regularly, even on the weekends, and aren’t afraid to poke fun at each other outside of meetings with higher ups. He considers them friends, really. Friends that prop their feet up on his desk or lie down on his couch at 1pm for a nap. Seungcheol’s too busy stuffing his face to get after them about any of it right now. 

“How was the meeting?” Minghao asks. Objectively, he’s the most responsible of his team and Seungcheol often delegates to him when he can’t handle something himself, and is always assured that Minghao will handle it with grace. Seungkwan, Vernon, and Chan look totally unconcerned about the meeting that will impact their future workload right now. They’ll buckle down when they have to, no doubt, but today is not the day. 

“Fine. They have a few more requests for the contract, so I added them to the list for a few weeks from now.” Seungcheol doesn’t care if they can understand him through bites. He’ll have to repeat all of this in front of his supervisor and them tomorrow anyway.

“Oh! Speaking of which, guess who we ran into?” Chan pipes up. Seungcheol shrugs. He doesn’t feel like guessing and it doesn’t look like he has to wait long because the three youngest members look excited. “Your friend, Y/N. The one you introduced us to on your birthday? She works in contracts now.”

Seungcheol pauses. Stops chewing all together. Swallows. Drops his chopsticks. And drops his head into his hands. “Oh my god,” he mumbles. 

There’s a long pause around the room before Vernon carefully asks, “Is that a bad thing? I thought you two were friends. Did I misread that?”

Seungcheol is still groaning. “Why me? Why now? What did I do to deserve this?”

Minghao’s eyes widen, and then he’s standing up, closing Seungcheol’s office door so this little breakdown isn’t heard by anyone else. “Okay, what’s the deal?” Seungcheol doesn’t respond and Minghao says his name a little more forcefully. 

Seungcheol sighs, sitting back up though he looks distressed. His phone rings and he lets it go to voicemail. “It’s a long story,” he says, hoping that they’ll have a short attention span today.

“What? Do you guys have history or something?” Seungkwan asks. When Seungcheol is silent, Seungkwan simply mumbles, “Oh.”

“You know, I thought it was a little suspicious that you didn’t actually describe someone you’ve known your whole life as a friend. We just made the assumption that she was,” Minghao starts. “Tell us,” he all but demands.

“No,” Seungcheol huffs. “Go back to work.” No one moves a muscle, staring at him expectantly. Vernon even appears to be getting more comfortable on the couch. Seungcheol huffs again. “Fine. We used to date. It’s awkward now. End of story.”

Minghao nods, humming. “So it didn’t end well, then.”

Seungcheol scoffs at the man he considers to be his best friend nowadays. “What don’t you get about ‘end of story’?” 

“Oh, we get it. We just don’t care,” Seungkwan sasses. “Now what’s the rest of that story? There has to be more.”

Resigned to the fact that they won’t be leaving him alone to crawl in a hole and die anytime soon, Seungcheol leans back in his chair, arms crossed and food forgotten. Y/N had that affect on him, forgetting about food and sleep and everything else important. The phone rings again and he ignores it. Over the ringing, he starts telling them the story. 

He’s known her literally since he was born. Their fathers are friends and Seungcheol and Y/N happened to be born a day apart. They were inseparable for their whole lives and started dating when they were in college after he'd pined for an embarrassingly long time. Then came the news that she’d be moving for grad school. Seungcheol admits he hadn't taken it well and couldn’t maintain contact with her once she left. And now she's moved back and every interaction they’ve had to have so far has been totally suffocating to him. But, they share a ton of mutual friends and those interactions are unavoidable.

There’s a few beats of silence before Seungkwan runs his mouth again. “Ah. So you're not over it, then.”

Anger floods Seungcheol’s veins. “What?! It’s been over three years. Of course, I’m over it. I’m better off, in fact,” he insists vehemently. No one says anything and Seungcheol’s lips are falling into a small pout. “It’s just that it’s awkward now. We spent every second together for over 20 years before she left and now I don’t feel like I even know her.”

Chan shrugs. “Well, she’s back. Just get to know her again. I mean, people can change a lot in a few years, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be friends again.” He makes it sound so simple and it makes Seungcheol’s head feel like it might explode. 

“No, I won’t be doing that,” he snaps, frustration bleeding into every word. 

Minghao nods, shrugging. “Fine, don’t fix a life long friendship,” he says evenly and it takes Seungcheol aback a bit. “But can you be civil? We’ll have to work with her department often when this contract freeze is over. She might even take the lead on some of them.”

Seungcheol chews on the inside of his cheek for a long moment before finally saying, “Yeah, I’ll be civil.” Not that they needed to know, but the last thing he really wanted to be was mean to you. He just wasn’t sure how friendly he could be if it would twist the knife that you left in his chest. 

~

It’s been a week since you started working here, and Seungcheol has managed to not see you yet. Not that it’s stopped his team from asking about it every single day. ‘Have you seen Y/N yet?’ ‘Have you talked to her?’ ‘Just ran into Y/N downstairs!’ He’s been brusque about responding to these little questions and comments, doing his best to appear busy, although his email is slow and his calendar is pretty empty. 

It’s Minghao who eventually calls him out for the avoidance. “You know I can see your calendar, right? And you haven’t sent me anything to work on, which usually means you have a good handle on the things on your plate. So how long are you going to avoid seeing her? She’s quite literally below our feet.”

Forever, he wants to say at first. He shrugs and says he has some things he needs to get done so Minghao will let him breathe. But the comment gets him thinking because he never would have said that before. Not in a million years - he wasn’t attached to you for over 20 years for nothing. He’s not sure he really means it now. And everything else aside, not popping in to say hi to someone he’s known for over two decades and is now working on the floor right below him is not so civil. It’s only a matter of time before he runs into you in the hallway, cafeteria, or elevator. And there’s that pesky meeting on his calendar with your department. 

So he stops by the tenth floor on his way back up from lunch, knocking on the door after a mini pep talk. Seokmin turns from his computer, greeting him. Seungcheol likes Seokmin. He doesn’t know anyone who doesn’t. “Hey, man. How’s it going?”

“Not bad. Pretty light load right now,” Seokmin answers. “I hear you’ll be changing that soon.”

Seungcheol shrugs good-naturedly with a chuckle. “Yeah, unfortunately, it’s part of my job description.” His eyes wander to the other side of the office and he knows it’s yours. Last month, when he stopped by to ask Seokmin a question, the desk was totally empty with not even a desk chair behind it. Now, it’s got a few succulents, a couple pictures, a cup of brightly colored pens. “Is Y/N in today?”

Seokmin’s eyes perk up and then Seungcheol hears a little cough behind him. He steps back so you can step inside. “Looking for me?” You give him a little smile, setting a coffee mug on Seokmin’s desk and then one on your own.

It kind of burns him up inside how casual you are, but he doesn’t know what he expected, so he clears his throat. “Yeah. I heard you were working here now, so I thought I’d come say hi and welcome you, all that stuff.”

“Oh! That’s nice of you, Seungcheol,” you say in your typical sweet voice, but the words burn him up too. Particularly his full first name. He was never ‘Seungcheol’ before. Always ‘Cheol’. The newfound formality makes him squirm. 

“How are you settling in? Is Seokmin being a good roommate?” Seungcheol tries to keep his voice light, teasing even. 

Something in your eyes light up and it kind of feels like a gut punch, because in so many ways it feels the same and it so many ways it feels like it never could be the same again. “Oh, Seokmin’s great. We’re besties now.” You pass a friendly smile to Seokmin, who returns it. Yeah, Seungcheol likes Seokmin, but something deep, deep inside him wishes you didn’t. He feels stupid for that. You continue on. “And as for settling in, there hasn't been much to settle into yet. I hear we’ll get something to work on next week though?”

Seungcheol nods. “Yeah. We’ll see you guys and Mrs. Jang next week to talk about contract requirements. Nothing crazy. It’s pretty run of the mill stuff. We’ll see how much you learned in law school.” He hopes it comes off as a joke and not an insult, but he sees the corner of your lips twitch downwards and he knows it’s landed wrong. He’s way too proud and perhaps a little too bitter still to apologize. 

Still, you shrug. “It wasn’t cheap or easy, so I hope I learned something.”

That awkwardness that he thinks he’ll never get used to with you starts to seep back in, so he makes an excuse that he needs to get back upstairs, waving to you and Seokmin on the way out. Back at his desk, he slumps, head on his desk again. That definitely twisted the knife. 

~

The meeting twists the knife too. He always knew you were sweet. He’d watch you effortlessly win people over with your charm all his life and had never felt an ounce of bitterness about it. But still, he’s surprised when you win over his supervisor within just a few minutes before the meeting even starts. Mr. Park is a hard ass and it took Seungcheol nearly two years of tireless work to win his approval and get the management position that he has now. You won him over simply by mentioning your most recent alma mater and speaking fondly of it. Turns out that Mr. Park went there as well for his MBA. Small world. 

Beyond that, you don’t say much in this meeting. It’s up to Seungcheol’s team to present the contract requirements and hand them off to your department, and it’s a blessedly short meeting because your department will need some time to draft things up and gather questions. Seungcheol takes a long lunch after the meeting to walk around the block and work off the feelings that are bubbling inside of him. He also ignores his teams’ stares when he passes by their office on the way back to his. They aren’t subtle about how every single one of them peer over their cubicle walls like they’ve been waiting for him to come back. 

It’s almost time to go home when Minghao comes in by himself. “So. That went well this morning, didn't it?” He starts conversationally, sitting in one of the chairs on the other side of Seungcheol’s desk. 

“Sure,” Seungcheol says shortly, trying to wrap up an email. “Jang’s team has always been good. I didn't expect any trouble.”

“Oh, I’m not concerned about that. I was talking about you being civil with your ex… whatever you guys are. You were very smooth, actually. Not that I’m supposed to tell you, but the kids were taking bets.”

Seungcheol stops typing, looking out of the corner of his eye. “Don’t you guys have work to do? I’m sure there's a rule about betting in the personnel manual anyway.” He doesn’t bother reminding Minghao that he's only a year or two older than any of them and calling them ‘kids’ is a stretch, regardless of how much more responsibility Minghao pulls around here.

“No,” Minghao chuckles. “You haven’t assigned us anything this week. They’ve been playing darts for days. Tournament style. A few people from other departments have joined.” Seungcheol rolls his eyes because he most certainly told them to take that dart board home. He doesn’t want to explain to his supervisor or anyone else really. “Anyway, it was a bet about paying for lunch. No money is directly trading hands. I looked it up, it’s technically allowed.”

Seungcheol shakes his head, hitting send and then leaning back in his seat. “Don’t make me go to HR to find out if you're right, Hao. There’s a difference between ‘allowed’ and ‘loophole’.” Minghao looks totally unaffected by the threat, so Seungcheol moves on. “Who won the bet then?”

“Chan. Seungkwan bet that you’d be mean. Vernon bet that you’d look totally lovesick. Chan bet that you’d be avoidant.” 

“Avoidant?” Seungcheol reels back. He can’t deny the urge to be both mean and lovesick, but avoidant? “How did that one win? I sat across from her. I talked to her.” 

“No,” Minghao shakes his head. “You at no point spoke directly to her. Didn’t really look at her either.” Seungcheol falls silent because he’s not sure what to say. “I understand that you didn’t want to be honest with the kids, but you know I can keep a secret. So what’s really going on?”

He feels like he’s 22 again, sitting at the table in his crappy student apartment, about to get a knife shoved in his chest. If only he could go back and give himself a heads up not to think too hard about the future. He’s looking out of the window behind him when he starts talking. “You know, I was planning to propose? Maybe not right away, but we’d talked about moving in together and it felt right, you know? Then she rips my heart out and moves across the world a few weeks later. Never mind the fact that we’d been attached at the hip for our whole lives. It would have hurt without the dating.” 

Minghao hums sympathetically. “I can understand some bitterness.” It’s not some, he wants to say. He’s been choking on it for three years if he thinks about it for too long. “How long had you been into her?”

Seungcheol shakes his head, shrugging. “A decade? I don’t know. It was always going to be her, it seems. Which makes everything harder.”

“Makes some sense,” Minghao says, and Seungcheol snaps his head to him, looking confused. “Of what little dating you’ve done since then, nothing has lasted. You didn’t seem that interested in the first place, really. It was always going to be her and it’s still her. That’s okay, really, if you just come to terms with it.”

That bitterness is constricting his throat more and more by the second. “How the fuck do I come to terms with that? I’m angry, Hao. It’s been three years and I’m still angry.”

“So, tell her,” Minghao shrugs. Seungcheol scoffs again, getting sick of how casual his friends are about this. “No, I’m serious. Lay it all out on the table so maybe you two can salvage something out of this awkward situation. You’re telling me you don’t want to recover anything with someone you’ve known your entire life? Nothing at all? You’d prefer to pretend she doesn't exist?”

He doesn’t know. He couldn’t be your friend when you left, and he doesn't think he can be your friend now. The possibility of being more with you again now that you’re back flashes through his mind like you two can pick up where you left off and he wants to light the idea on fire. No, he wants to light himself on fire before he gives you the chance to hurt him like that again. Still, he hates the longing that he feels, thinking about what it was like when it was good. It was good for a long time, even when it was unrequited. 

Minghao must realize that he won’t get an answer right now, so he slaps the edge of the desk lightly, standing up. “Come on. We’re going out for drinks. You look like you could use one and you’ve probably just been wiggling your mouse all day anyway.”

Seungcheol locks his computer and grabs his things. He could use a few drinks, actually, as long as his friends can avoid this conversation in front of him. 

~

Seungcheol gets up early on Saturday. Normally, he would sleep in and just do a few things around his apartment that were neglected throughout the week. Maybe go out with his friends later that night. But he’s been tense for weeks now, snapping at little things only to want to wallow in despair later when alone in his office. Minghao’s bluntly told him he’s being unpleasant, so he’s been hitting the gym harder lately to work out some of this frustration. He plans to go put himself through a long, excruciating work out since he has the time for it today. 

He runs for way longer on the treadmill than he normally would, but there’s something satisfying about the thud of his feet hitting the track that keeps him going until he feels unsteady. He’s dripping sweat by the time he gets to the weights and he stacks them high, going heavier than he usually would. Each pump of iron reduces some of the stress and by the time he walks out, he’s drop dead tired and aching all over, but his mind is blissfully blank. 

He stops by a coffee shop around the corner and gets his order to-go. When he comes out of the elevator on his apartment floor, he comes to a halt fast. There’s a couch in the way. Must be a new neighbor, he thinks. Someone moved out a few months ago and the unit next to his has been vacant since. 

Seungcheol sips his coffee, patiently watching the couch move. And nearly spits out that coffee all over the couch when he sees whose carrying the tail end of the couch. “Mingyu? What are you doing here?” He asks, surprised. 

Mingyu’s eyes are bright, despite the struggle of maneuvering the couch. “Hey, Cheol! It’s move in day!” 

“Oh!” Seungcheol cries out. “You’re moving in? Is Wonwoo coming with you?” 

“No!” Wonwoo’s voice echoes down the hall. He must be on the front end of the couch. “I would never want to be your neighbor. We aren’t the ones moving anyway,” he laughs. 

Seungcheol can step out of the elevator now and trails behind them. “Mean. I thought we were friends,” he laughs. “Who’s my new neighbor then? Anyone I know?” He kind of assumes it is since he shares so many mutual friends with them. 

“Help us get this around the corner and find out,” Mingyu grunts. Seungcheol drops his things off in his apartment and meets them next door, helping them angle the furniture into the doorway. 

The couch is inside the main room of the apartment when Wonwoo finally yells out. “Hey, come tell us where you want this!” 

“Coming!” A voice calls out from down the hall. Seungcheol’s stomach drops. Who else would Wonwoo and Mingyu be moving in, now that he thinks about it? You barrel around the corner, lugging a box in your hands. It lands on the floor in the corner with a thud. You look surprised to see him. “Oh, hey, Cheol. Joining the move in party?”

He knows you're not serious, but still he shrugs because he's at a loss for words. Wonwoo’s clearing his throat to bring the focus back to the task at hand. You gesture to a particular spot and Wonwoo and Mingyu slide it into place. “That's the last of the big stuff,” Mingyu announces. “Just boxes left now.” He turns to Seungcheol. “Got plans or are you up for a few trips? Y/N has promised beer and pizza as payment.”

Seungcheol doesn’t give a shit about beer or pizza or payment. He’s spiraling a little because he just started feeling better after a long work out, damn it! But he’s never been known to turn down helping you, and he could really use a second work out now. So he makes multiple trips downstairs to the truck, helping them get everything in. And he does stay for a beer and a couple slices of pizza, but is really relieved when he gets a message from Chan asking if anyone wants to go out for drinks. He does, if only to have a good reason to escape your apartment. 

~

There’s a knock on his door on Thursday night. When he opens it, his eyes flare in surprise. You look a little awkward waiting outside. He’s done some serious avoiding since you moved in on Saturday and either you’ve let him or you’re doing your own avoiding up until now. Still, he gives you an awkward smile. “Hey, Y/N. What’s up?”

“Sorry to bother you,” you start, shifting from foot to foot. “I just checked the mail and found a note that a package was delivered, but I think it might have actually come to you? Did you happen to get anything?”

He holds the door open, gesturing for you to step inside. “I got something, but haven't looked at it yet. Come in and I’ll check.”

You trail after him to his small dining room table that resembles more of a desk, what with the clutter of mail, an assortment of snacks, and a laptop. Seungcheol’s kept his second room as a spare bedroom because his friends like to crash here when they go out, so this has become an impromptu workspace over the years. Still, he tries to subtly organize things as he reaches for the small package, picking it up to read the label. “Oh yeah, this is for you,” he says, handing it over. 

“Thanks,” you say, relieved. An awkward beat passes and you look like you might bail now that you have what you came here for. But Seungcheol opens his mouth first for some unknown reason.

“How are you settling in?” 

Your shock is clear for a split second but you recover quickly. “Oh, it’s fine. Nicer than the apartment I had back in California, that's for sure. Thanks for asking.”

“Of course.” He’s surprised by how he means it. “Let me know if I can help with anything as you get unpacked.”

You don't recover from your shock this time. “You’d… do that? Help me, I mean.”

His eyebrows furrow. “Y/N, when have I ever not helped you? I’ve been doing that since before we both could walk.” 

Your eyes look a little watery as you bite your lip. It’s a look he’s seen before and it tugs at his heartstrings a little. “I just figured things might have changed too much for that to be true anymore, you know? I would understand if it has.”

Your acceptance that he might not want to be in your life anymore twists the knife more than any of your casualness since you’ve moved back. It makes him angry because he never wanted space from you in the first place. Sternly he says, “It hasn’t changed. Not like that anyway. Just call or come over, okay?” 

After a few beats, you finally nod. “Thanks, Cheol. And thanks for the package. I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing. Have a good night, okay?” He watches you close the door behind you on your way out, but he doesn’t move for a long time. It’s hours later while he’s lying in bed when he remembers. He grabs his phone off the charger, unblocking you on everything. It’s kind of hard for you to reach out for help if he doesn’t do that. And he kind of hopes you will call, even if it just for a package mixed up in the mail. Even if it hurts to be around you, because  Seungcheol realizes Minghao’s been right with all of his lectures lately. He should really try to salvage something with you.

~

You send him a text the following Sunday. Initially, you’re trying to make sure he still has the same number - which he does. Then you ask if he’s up for hanging some things on the wall for you. You say you’ll feed him as payment, but that has so little to do with him sliding on shoes and walking next door at 10am. You actually look happy to see him when you open your door, not just neutral like you have been since moving back. 

“Hey, Cheol. Come on in.” Once he’s in and his shoes are off, you’re leading him to your kitchen. “Thanks for doing this. Wonwoo’s threatened me not to climb on anything, which would make it nearly impossible for me to do this myself.”

This brings some levity to the situation for Seungcheol in a weird way. Lovingly making fun of her clumsiness, just like he did for years and years before she left. The familiarity is warm and suffocating at the same time, but still he chuckles. “And he’s right for threatening you about that. You’d be dangerous on a ladder or stool.”

You’re chuckling too, placing a mug of coffee in front of him. “I know. I ruin everything. I’d probably put extra holes in the wall too before I break a bone. Pancakes okay?” 

“Sure,” Seungcheol shrugs, sipping on his coffee. It brings a stupid wave of emotions because you remembered how he likes his coffee and has prepared it to perfection. He tells himself that it’s because you have years of practice in college and it shouldn’t be something special but it is. He’s thankful that you have your back turned, grabbing things from the cabinet, and miss that it’s made him a little misty-eyed. “How are you liking the job?” 

You glance over your shoulder and shrug. “It’s alright.”

Your disinterested tone surprises him. He assumes you took this job because it was a direction you wanted to go after graduating, but you lack the passion he would have expected if that was the case. “Not what you had in mind?”

“No, it’s not that,” you drawl out, sighing. “My number one priority was coming home. In some ways, I took the first offer I got to do so. I’m not sure exactly what I want to do with my degree now that I have it.” Your laugh is incredibly humorless and he’s sure your expression would crush him if he could see it. “Isn’t that stupid?”

“No,” he says genuinely. It does burn him up inside to think that you might have left for nothing in a way, but he never wants to tell you that. In moments of clarity while you were gone, he did feel some pride that you were pursuing something you seemed passionate about. And on the heels of that, regrets that he didn’t just tell you that when you made your little announcement. “When did that change though? A few years ago, you were so excited for the program and where it would take you.”

He sees your shoulders tense at the mention of the breakup, no matter how delicately he was trying to tiptoe around it. But any discussion of her leaving would always tie back to that. “I guess I didn’t realize how many different things I could do with my degree outside of being a lawyer. I always had this image that I’d take the bar and find a practice and be in court everyday. I was about halfway through my degree when I realized the traditional career path might not be for me. Everyone keeps asking when I’m taking the bar and I’m not sure what to tell them, because it might be never now.”

Seungcheol mulls this over for a long time, letting you mix the batter, pour it into the pan, wait, flip, repeat. You have a decent stack of pancakes before he finally speaks. “That’s okay, Y/N. You shouldn’t stress about that. I mean, look at Jang. She’s got a law degree and has been in Contracts for longer than we’ve been alive. The non-traditional path is fine.”

“Maybe,” you mumble, flipping off the burner and bringing the full plate over to him. “Want anymore coffee? Fruit?” It’s clear to him that this part of the conversation is over, so he lets you bounce around the kitchen for a few things before finally sitting across from him. That tinge of awkwardness is still ever present, but he’s relieved that you two can move on to something else. Wonwoo and Mingyu. Seokmin. Seungcheol’s friends. Law school. It sort of, kind of, maybe feels like he can be your friend again, even if it looks and feels a little different. 

After breakfast, he helps you clean up. Then he lets you hand him dozens of things to hang throughout the apartment. Your diplomas. Photos of your family. Photos of you and your brothers. A few of you and him as kids, teenagers, and college students, which makes him misty-eyed again. A couple with what he assumes were friends from law school. A few of you and Jeonghan, someone you both went to high school with. 

“Didn’t know you knew Jeonghan that well,” he asks, hoping it sounds casual. 

“We went to law school in California together. We were close. Still are.” 

Seungcheol does his best to mask his awkwardness by teasing. “He had a massive crush on you back in high school, you know?”

You chuckle, handing him another thing to hang. “He told me.”

“Didn’t make a move, did he?” He’s joking, at first anyway. But you’re quiet as you hand him the next thing. 

“I guess? We dated for a while. Not that he told me about that crush until it was already over,” you finally admit. 

The knife twists. “Oh. Well, I’m sure he’s bummed you left.” He bites his tongue immediately because he didn't mean it like that. Your silence tells him you took it exactly how he wished you didn’t. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” he mumbles, abandoning the pride that would usually keep him biting his tongue. 

You shake your head up at him. “It was deserved. I’m sorry if it’s awkward to talk about him. Or anything really.”

He focuses on the hook on the back of the next frame. “It shouldn’t be. Of course you dated while you were in California.”

Another pregnant pause. “Did you date?”

He shrugs and it’s genuinely casual because there’s not much to say. “Here and there. Nothing really stuck.”

You hum. “That’s it, I think. Get off the stool before you fall.”

The scolding makes him laugh. “I’m not you. I won’t be falling off.” Still, he climbs down, returning the stool to the kitchen. You meet him at the door, probably assuming he wants to go since he’s been here for hours now. “Thank you, again. You’ve kept my baby brother off my back for now.” 

The lightheartedness of the comment crushes him for so many reasons, but mostly that he spent years keeping Wonwoo and Mingyu, and often Bohyuk, off your back. Another thing that’s familiar. He desperately tries to match your lightheartedness when he says, “No problem. You know where to find me.”

At least later today you’ll know where to find him, anyway. He changes into gym clothes and hides out at the gym, working out until he can’t work out anymore. 

~

It’s Christmas and the tradition has always been for the Jeons and Chois to get together. They did it when Seungcheol and his brother and you and your brothers were kids, and it’s a tradition that they’ve maintained despite all of the kids being in their 20s now. 

Seungcheol offers to drive you to this get-together. He’s been doing that a lot lately, often times without realizing before the words are out of his mouth. If it’s raining or snowing, he’s offering to drive you to and from work because it’s right there. When the two of you go out with Wonwoo and Mingyu for dinner, he’s driving you home because it’s literally right there. When he needs to go to the grocery store, he asks you if you need anything or want to tag along, because it’s right there. You get the point. You’re right there and he can never seem to forget it.

So Seungcheol waits in your living room while you finish getting ready. He’s already got the gifts you both have purchased for everyone in the car. You come down the hall in a whirlwind, flinging on a coat over your Christmas sweater, tugging on boots. “I’m ready, I’m ready!” 

It makes him laugh genuinely. The awkwardness has faded for the most part, replaced by warmth, much like it was before you left. “Not like they’re going to start with out us.”

You scoff, grabbing your bag. “A very Leo attitude of you to have.”

“And you don't have that attitude?” He chortles, meeting you at the door, taking your keys from you to lock up since you seem frazzled. 

You snort. “No. Have you met my brothers? Bohyuk will eat both your portion and mine before we can get there if they don't watch him.” 

“You act like both my parents and yours aren’t making enough to feed a small army,” Seungcheol scoffs again, leading you into the parking garage. When both of you arrive, it's kind of like you never left. There are even moments where he forgets that you actually did. Watching you put your youngest brother in a headlock for stealing food off your plate. Wonwoo replacing the food from his own plate while you have your back turned. You getting Seungcheol a drink when you get up to get a refill for yourself. Seungcheol’s older brother Seungmin even comments that it’s like the four of you are still children. Mentions of law school can’t even touch the good mood Seungcheol’s in when you both walk to the car much, much later that night to go home. 

You’re a little bit giggly when you collapse into the front seat and he can’t help but chuckle. “Baby, I think you had a little too much eggnog.” You roll your eyes dramatically, tugging on your seat belt to try buckling it. It's not going well, so Seungcheol leans into the passenger side to do it for you. “So stubborn,” he chuckles again. “Watch your arm,” he warns, closing the door. Once in his own seat he starts up the car, blasts the heat, and gets on the road. “Did you have fun? First Christmas back with everyone.”

“I did,” you sniffle, and it makes his head snap to you. That’s right. You cry when you drink. The tiniest mention of something that makes you emotional balloons into tears. He’d lost count of how many times he’d let you curl up into his side until the emotion had passed, soothing you along the way. He can’t do that, because he’s driving and because it wouldn’t be a good idea anyway. So he reaches over, palm up for you to hold and you do on instinct. “I missed it. Holidays here, I mean. Hannie and Joshua tried to make Christmas fun there, but it wasn’t the same, you know?”

“I can imagine,” he says soothingly. “It was nice though. You hadn’t seen Bohyuk yet since you moved back, right?” 

“He’s a little shit,” you chuckle, but Seungcheol knows the statement is full of love. “It was nice to see Seungmin, too. I hadn’t seen him in a long time.”

Seungcheol hums. “He asks about you all the time. Says he always thought you were a sweet kid.”

“I’m sweet now,” you whine.

This makes a laugh bubble up Seungcheol’s throat. “I know you are, baby.”

You hum, looking kind of sleepy as you lean your head back. “You haven’t called me that in a long time.”

Seungcheol blinks, then realizes what he's said. Not once, but twice. He drives for a few long seconds in silence. “I’m sorry. It slipped. Habit, I guess.”

You’re sniffling again. “No, I like it. It reminds me that maybe you don't hate me.”

He’s lost in thought for the next few minutes, parking in the garage, leading you inside. He takes your keys from you, letting you into your apartment. He helps you change because he’s seen it all already and you’re totally unfazed by it. He helps you get into bed, tucking you in a bit. You’re already half asleep when he strokes your hair a few times. “I don’t hate you. Get some sleep, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks, Cheol.” He can barely make your words out before you’re really out like a light. 

The gym is closed so he just lies in bed staring at the ceiling for a while. It’s true. He doesn’t hate you. Could never, really. He just doesn’t know what that means. 

[itsoutrageouss]

bae i NEED elliot smut where the reader has a hand kink PLEASEEEEEEEEE i need his fingers so bad

You got it babygirl ;)

something something Elliot’s hands are so mesmerising that when he talks all you hear is blah, blah, blah, backstory stuff.. and he lowkey gets more needy than you from putting his fingers inside… and dominant as hell???

—🧚🏼‍♀️

You couldn’t stop staring at them. It honestly wasn’t your fault- his hands were like magnets to your eyes, always finding their way back down to where they were in his lap, one of them clasped around a cold beer, condensation rolling down the bottleneck like sweat. It continued over his knuckles, dipping through the valleys of his knuckles and dripping onto his lap, little dark spots splattering over his pants where he sat next to you in the back of your pickup truck.

The beers were still cold from the gas station where you’d taken a pit stop before parking at an empty lot further away. His other hand fidgeted with a frazzled bracelet that fit snug around his wrist where the veins bulged and snaked up his hand. You gulped. Forced your eyes up to the twinkling stars instead. Slowly they slid down to the horizon. A little to the left. Down into his lap. Again.

“Doll you’re not listening” Elliot finally noted, his had lazily craning towards you, chin lifted as he leaned back against the back of the car. There was a small, amused smile splaying on his round lips, and his puppy eyes narrowed as he searched your gaze.

You grew hot, fire lapping at your cheeks and exposed neck. He waited patiently for a response, eyes never leaving yours and you broke the silence with an awkward clearing of your throat, lips parted softly like a fish out of water.

“No im listening, for sure” you said with a furrow in your brow and a rapid nod to try and seem like his insinuation was offending. It wasn’t, though, because you hadn’t heard a damn word he’d said. To your startling, mortifying realisation, his free hand came up to squeeze your thigh, and you gasped. You and Elliot were… well you weren’t just friends but… you’d never exactly- well- it was hard to explain, yeah? There was always something simmering there, and at parties you’d always end up making out in a corner until your lips were swollen and raw. But nothing more had ever happened- he always seemed to pull away with a wink and dissapear.

“Yeah? What’d I just say?” He asks, leaning towards you slightly, simultaneously making his hand slide higher up your thigh. Your jaw ticked. Was he doing this on purpose?

“Something about that… thing you did yesterday” you tried, deliberately turning your head away to seem distracted yourself, like you didn’t throb between your legs already. You tried to take a calming breath but his hand left your leg, leaving a cold feeling where it had rested, before it came up to the back of your head, grasping your neck tightly to force your head back to face him. Was he closer now? Your hands flicked down to his hand that flexed around the beer and placed it on the bed of the truck next to his thigh. He followed your line of sight.

He shook his head and grinned as his eyes shimmered with understanding. “Not at all what I said. But it’s cool.” He said, his hand staying on your neck, forcing you to keep looking at him. His fingers tightened slightly and a shiver ran down your spine. Visibly, you shuddered. He rolled his eyes.

“This really what’s getting you so distracted?” He asks, his voice teasing as his fingers slid down your neck, around to the front of your neck, gliding over your collarbone. You suppressed a whimper, his other hand trailing up the bare skin if your thigh. The summer heat was sticky around you, a light sheen of sweat over his temple, his curls messy in the humid air. He licked his lips unconsciously, both his and your eyes glued to his hand moving up to the hem of your shorts, long fingers skittering just under the material. Your eyes widened slightly at his boldness.

“Elliot- why- you never touch-“ you stammered foolishly, wanting to understand what had changed. He sighed softly, peeling his eyes from the sight of your thigh convulsing under his touch. He held it tight to stop them from pressing needily together.

“Didn’t want to overstep. Didn’t know what you… wanted. I might have a fucking clue now, though” he said, voice low as his hand dipped under your shorts, skimming the side of your panties in a dangerously light touch. Your eyes squeezed shut and thudded against the back of the car. He snickered and you spared him a side glance.

“They just- fuck they look so… good” you whined, inhibitions lowered at the way his slender fingers moved over your clothes cunt. God his ego swelled in his chest as he rapidly removed his hand, sitting up straighter, shadowing the stars from your view, one hand cupping your jaw as he frantically worked the button of your shorts. His veins pulsed, the matted blue bracelet you gave him adorning his bronze skin.

“You want them?” He asked in a breathy tone, the thought dizzying both of you as your zipper was undone, hips lifting so he could tug the shorts down just enough for hun to get to where he wanted like he had no time to spare, like a dog who was been waiting for permission and finally had it. Your eyes opened, snapped to his, down to this plump lips, where his mouth was open, hand hovered over your panties.

You couldn’t even speak, only nodding in a desperate manner and bucking your hips up slightly to try and meet his hand. But he moved it just in time for you to only graze the warm air.

“Have to say it or I won’t touch you” he stated and you pouted in embarrassment.

“Yes- yes I want them Elliot just fucking-“ you were cut off by the breath in your throat hitching, swallowing down a moan as his fingertips slid under your panties and slid down your molten, wet slit. He let out a low sound almost akin to a moan, and it was absolutely addicting.

“Jesus Christ did my hands make you this wet?” He asked, but not even in a mocking way, just un pure astonishment, maybe even feeling a little proud as he prodded around your went cut, mapping you out, spending extra time at your puffy clit. He bit down on his tongue at the way you whined and twitched when his middle finger slipped over the nub in messy, soft rubs.

“It’s not my fault” you protested. It was his hands that made you feel so unexplainable fucking needy, it was completely out of your control. He huffed, and in response slipped a finger inside of you. Your walls already pulsed around the sole finger as it curled up, feeling your scorching hot and creaming cunt suck it in. He was mesmerised as you both stared at where his hand moved under your panties. Your thighs clamped around his wrist and he tsk’ed at you, his other hand digging into the plush if your thigh and prying them open wide. It felt so exposing, here in this lonely parking lot, the way his eyes were burning holes into your went cunt like he was just as taken as you.

He couldn’t help himself to slip a second finger inside, stretching your walls to accommodate him in a delicious stretch. He moaned- he fucking moaned before you even had the chance to. Blatantly, whorish, unashamed as his pupils dilated, meeting yours.

“This all you wanted? Just needed me to stuff my fingers inside of you to keep you happy, hm?” He asked, voice suddenly more hoarse than before, curling his fingers and pressing them inside you over and over, as far in as they could go, the wet squelching making your lashes flutter.

“Yes- yes thank you, Eli” you moaned with a thick voice, not even hearing your own words as more than a distance sound.

“Fuckin’ thanking me for fingering you Jesus Christ-“ he muttered, more to himself than to you as his hand in your thighs tugged your panties down messily for more access, finally able to see where he dissapear into you, where his hand shimmered in your wetness. His other hand went down, spreading your lips to see better, the lewd action making your heart swell and stutter and another gush of wetness dripping to the bed of the truck. His thumb rolled over your clit in messy circles and your cunt clenched around his fingers rhythmically.

“That’s it- gonna cum already? I just started doll” he said, a little mockery in his tone that made you flush and shiver. His lips suddenly pressed to yours to swallow down your moans, and he sucked in a sharp breath of relief. You moaned into his warm mouth, breath intermingling.

“Gonna- elliot-“ you garbled out, the way your clit was so puffy and wet that his thumb moved even faster making your now free thighs choke his wrist as you pulse around him, locking down like a vice- his veins bulging from the efforts to keep moving. Your breath hitches before all the curses and whined you could muster tumbled out of your swollen lips.

“Good girl, good fuckin- that’s it- better than I imagined oh fu-“ he rambled on, apparently incredibly mouthy when his fingers were pressed into your wet cunt. You nearly blacked out, felt your thighs grow wet, his hand still moving to its last effort. After god knows how long he slipped his fingers out, pervertedly holding them up in the moonlight. You cracked an eye opened and your kith watered at watching those damned fingers shimmering with your cum.

“Now are you gonna focus on what im telling you?” He asked as he pulled your shirts and panties up over your hips again, wet fingers struggling with the button. You breathed out a soft giggle, looking over at him, all your limbs weak.

“Yeah. Go ‘head.”

[sunnyie-eve]

36 | Hanging Out

Series: Unexpected

Paring: (Matt Sturniolo x OFC Brock!) (Chris Sturniolo x OFC Brock!)

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: none

| MASTERLIST |

It's been a few days since Chris asked Dani out and they were a bit awkward still but only when they were alone. Today they were all hanging out with everyone and that included Sam and Colby, Tara, Jake, Johnnie, and Larry. Honestly, Dani didn't feel like joining but she had no choice since everyone was gonna be at the house for a while.

"You okay?" Nick sits next to her on the couch.

"Ehh, I don't wanna hangout with anyone really. My social battery is dead today." She gives him a smile.

"Well you need to recharge it because you know the type of people you're hanging out with later." He laughs at her so she gives him a look. "Also how are you and him doing?" He looks over in Chris's direction.

"Not as bad but still odd when alone. That's why I'm hanging around you or Matt to keep me busy. Give it a few more days and it will be over with." She tells him.

"You gonna tell Colby what happened?"

"Are you fucking crazy?" She says louder than expected so Matt and Chris look over at her. "Hey, mind your own business." She points her finger at them so they go back to whatever they were doing. "I will tell Sam though."

As it was getting closer to the time everyone was gonna show up, Dani didn't want to leave her room. She wanted to get as much time alone before chaos. "Why are you taking my place as the non-social one?" Matt enters her room, "The night will fly by. Here for a bit, dinner, and then Top Golf."

"I think you keep forgetting the main reason I hate this."

"Colby." He knew exactly why.

"You know he hated that I stayed home with you for Tara's party, right. Nick told him we just spent all night in your bed watching Netflix. So I woke up the next morning to so many texts asking what the fuck. His mind automatically went to inappropriate things. He didn't even believe me right away."

"What! He didn't believe you? I get he's a protective big brother but come on. That's a bit much." He sits on her bed dumbfounded.

"Yep, you gotta blame my ex for how Colby is."

"But to not trust you and go overboard on his protectiveness? Dani, you need to tell him how you feel about that. Don't just deal with it because he's your brother." He tells her but she shakes her head. Matt goes to speak again but the doorbell goes off. They both look at each other till they hear it was Sam and Colby.

"Get, and you're in my room with the door shut." Dani gets up going to the door, "Let's get this over with." She opens it and sees Colby was gonna knock.

"Matt." He looks around Dani over at Matt on her bed.

"Colby." He waves.

Dani walks past Colby and grabs Sam upstairs dragging him to the bathroom so they can be alone and talk. "Hello to you too." He laughs as she locks the door.

"When my parents came to visit, Chris asked me out and I told I didn't feel the same. You know,  we didn't go over that what if." She lets him know.

"Chris asked you out?"

"In front of my parents, Sam." She whispers yells, "If Chris liked me then there's no way Matt does."

"Why do you say that?"

"Isn't there like a bro code or something especially between brothers?" She asks him.

Sam shrugs his shoulders, "I don't know if they have bro codes. Just ask Nick or something."

"Oh, speaking of Nick. I forgot to tell you. When I got back after my weekend with you, I slipped that I have a thing for Matt. So you and him know." Dani adds.

"And what did he say? Did he give you any hints?" Sam gets a bit excited wanting to know.

"Just that he will keep the secret."

Sam makes a face, "Some best friend he is. He was no help. Isn't he supposed to have your back too?"

They stopped talking as there was a knock at the bathroom door, "What's going on in there?" Colby asks them.

Dani opens the door, "Can I seriously not just have a conversation with someone in peace?" She groans walking past Colby again going back to her room.

When everyone else shows up, Dani was still in her room. She was debating telling everyone she was gonna stay home and wish everyone a good night. Again, she just wasn't in the mood already and Colby just made it worse for her.

"Dani's home, right?" Tara asks everyone still confused why she hasn't seen her.

"She's in her room." Colby tells her.

"Thanks to you." Matt says then catches he said it out loud, "I'll check on her." Matt gets up but Colby does too.

"Don't sweat it. She's my sister and it's my fault apparently."

Tara watches the two give each other a look, "I'll do it since I'm the only other girl here." She gets up going to Dani's room shaking her head at the two. "Can I come in?" Tara knocks on the door then goes in as Dani says yeah. "Are you really in here because of Colby?"

"Who said that?" Dani puts her phone down next to her.

"Matt slipped." She walks over to the bed, "Colby seems to still have a main problem with just him. Wanna talk about it?" Tara sits down.

"Just Colby being an overly protective brother, who hates my friendship with Matt."

"Well, he needs to get over it because I don't see you two ever not being close. I do see y'all getting closer at some point, if you know what I mean." Tara gives her a smile, "You two like each other anyone could see that. If not, they're fucking blind to the truth. He cares about you." She laughs, "He threw Colby under the bus to his face on accident." She laughs more.

"I know and that's why I like him so much." Dani gives Tara a look, "You and Sam both say he likes me too but I don't wanna risk it. And I don't want him getting more crap from Colby if he does feel the same too."

"Danielle, Jake and I dated forever and we are still great friends. Don't be scared to try and fuck Colby. It's your happiness and relationship. Not his." Tara grabs her hand, "Now, we're leaving in a few for dinner. And I want to get a in person read on Matt instead through an edited YouTube video so you're changing." Tara jumps up rushing over to the closet since Dani was just in an oversized shirt.

"Are you serious, Tara?"

"Yep." She looks back with a big smile.

Once Dani was dressed Tara eyes her up and down, "You're boobs have grown."

"Yes, I wish it was my height instead. Now let's just go. I want this night over with." Dani opens her door for Tara to go first.

"And this is why you send a girl to do girl work." Tara smiles joining the others as Dani follows behind. "She's ready to go now." Tara smiles back at Dani in view now.

"Tara, do me a favor and stop yapping."

"Why change clothes?" Colby asks so Tara speaks up for Dani.

"Because she looked terrible so I picked a new outfit for her. No wonder why she didn't want to leave the house."

At dinner Dani didn't chat much or wasn't on her phone either like the others were as well. She still wanted to be home in her bed watching tv. Tara, Sam, and Nick tried their best to get Dani to cheer up but they weren't doing it for her. She appreciated them though and would thank them for trying. Then at Top Golf Dani wasn't gonna play but sit and cheer the others on.

"You're upsetting me." Matt sits next to her. He hadn't really chatted with since everyone arrived at their house. Even at dinner Colby got them seated far away from each other.

"Why?" She asks confused.

"You aren't yourself right now."

"You know the anti social me, Matt. This isn't new to you." She rolls her eyes a bit.

Matt sighs looking over at Colby take his turn before looking back at her, "That's not just it though." He gets her to look at him, "You're hurting on the inside as well right now."

Her eyes start to get watery and her lower lip quivers a bit, "I gotta use the bathroom." She lies getting up speed walking away wiping her tears away.

Matt doesn't waste a second getting up and following her. He knew that was just bullshit to get away from everyone. As the two left Sam, Nick, and Tara share a look as they look away from where the two went.

"I gotta spy, sorry." Tara gets up quickly.

"I gotta see if he has the magic touch." Sam gets up as well.

"Guys!" Nick sees the other five look over at them, "Nothing to worry about. We'll be back." He tells them before going after the two.

When Matt gets to Dani he stops her from entering the bathroom, "Hey." He walks them away a bit to where they were alone.

"Why must you know me so fucking well? Huh, Matthew?" Tears fall from her eyes, "More than my own fucking brother. I hate that. I really do."

"Full first name, okay." He chuckles, "That hurt a bit." He laughs more and it makes her giggle a bit, "There's that smile. I haven't seen it all day." He tilts his head to the side a bit while leaning down a little to her height.

She quickly stops the little smile she had, "Stop it. I'm not gonna do it again."

"Wanna bet? You know I have my ways at getting things I want." He gives her a big smile, "I'll let Mr. Wrinkleton spend the night with you." He gets her to smile again, "We don't have to talk about it but I have one request from you."

"And what's that?" She sighs wiping her tears away.

"You love when we come here alone so try to have some fun before we go home." He puts his hand out to her. Dani nods her head taking his head to go back with him.

"Go, go, go, go!" The three spying on them quickly rush back to join the others and act normal.

[tiredkiwilol]

Of Childhood and Heroes

Chapter 2

Previous

In light of it being Legend (and Time)’s birthday today, here’s chapter 2 of of childhood and heroes from my drafts!! (Granted this is basically all Hyrule, but it’s the thought that matters ㅠㅠ)

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“No, that’s a stupid nickname, pick another one.”

The pink haired boy, now nicknamed Kit, scowled at him. “I’ve been! You’re just not saying yes to any of them!”

“Not my fault you have bad naming abilities,” Link countered, “Just let me keep my name and we’ll all be fine!”

“No! That’s not fair!” Kit yelled, stomping his foot.

“Alright, maybe y’all need a break from this nicknaming stuff. Let’s eat lunch and come back to…whatever this is,” the man in the pelt, Twilight, said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Link rolled his eyes. What would a break do? Kit obviously had horrible nickname ideas.

———

“Stick!”

“No.”

“Tree!”

“No.”

“Leaf!”

“No! Now you’re just yelling out whatever you see!” Link crossed his arms, “This is stupid.”

Twilight sighed, “Hy-kid, you’ve been rejecting every other name we’ve tried. You have to be less picky about this.”

Link glared at the taller man, “I’m not being picky, his nicknames are just horrible!”

There was a bird call in the distance, breaking the glaring contest between the two.

“I know!” Kit yelled, jumping up in front of Link, “Roo! Like the bird call!”

“What? I’m not gonna be named after a stupid bird ca-“

“Roo it is!” Twilight exclaimed, pushing the seething boy away from Kit.

Link, now nicknamed Roo, looked to the other men for help, stomping his foot to the ground. “No! I don’t want to be called Roo! It’s stupid! No one has a name like that!”

Twilight looked at him, “We have people named after a number, nature, and time itself. I honestly think that your name is one of the less odd ones in this group.”

Roo glared at the older boy. He hates this group and their stupid, dumb, bad nicknames already.

A hand settled on his shoulder, causing Roo to startle and pull out his rusty dagger.

“Woah!” The hand left his shoulder quickly, pulling Roo’s eyes from the hand to a vibrant royal blue scarf, then finally to the blue war-torn eyes of the captain: Warriors.

“Don’t touch me,” Roo hissed, pulling himself further away from the group of heroes.

Warriors raised both hands in surrender, “I’m sorry, that was my bad. You just reminded me of someone I’m a bit more familiar with.”

Roo glared harder into the captain’s skull, trying to seem as large and intimidating as he could be.

Warriors sighed, “I just wanted to say that if you really hate it that much, you don’t have to go by Roo. We could pick you a new nickname without Kit’s influence.”

Roo looked up at the older man. His words seemed truthful, and he couldn’t detect any trickery or deceit in his eyes. Then Roo turned slightly to the side, looking at Kit excitedly chattering with Twilight and Sky about something that seemed to have them all enraptured, hands dancing in the air. Kit’s starlit eyes were innocent. Full of kindness that was rare in the world Roo lived in.

Roo felt something odd slide into his stomach. No matter how stupid this nickname system was, no matter how stupid Kit’s logic seemed to be about creating nicknames, Roo didn’t want to hurt that cheerful kid. After all, Roo wanted to be like the Hero of Legend and it was said that the Hero of Legend was kind to children, that he fought to protect the young from having to live in a world corrupted by darkness.

Roo knew that his world was far from perfect, that it was corrupted, maybe beyond healing. But even at eight years old he could see the life that was trying and struggling to grow. He saw it in the small, sickly flowers by Mama’s fountain. He saw it in the weeds struggling to sprout in the ashen soil. He saw it in the other scrappy and dirty kids his age running from town to town with a broken or rusty weapon in hand.

Roo may have been eight. He may have been stuck with a bunch of strangers who shared his name. He may have thought his nickname given to him by a cheerful pink-haired boy was stupid. But there was nothing that could make him kill off what good and innocence there still was in his decaying world.

Without the words to properly explain, to try and make the older man understand, Roo simply shrugged, saying, “I’m not gonna give you all a chance to give me a worse nickname. I’m sticking with this one.”

Once upon a time, Roo was named after his Mama’s other son. One that fell in the decayed world centuries before he was even born. She told him that his name was a name full of hope and a name fit for a fairy hero.

Link, now nicknamed Roo, wondered what his name might mean now. A name given to him by a boy with starlit eyes and a bright smile to rival the corruption his world was soaked in.

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This might seem extremely out of character, but I blame it off the fact that I couldn’t get Hyrule to talk. I think that even as a kid, Hyrule would be protective over his Hyrule and because I want to progress the story more, Hyrule’s gonna start becoming more fond of Legend. Next chapter will probably be a pov shift because Hyrule’s being a bit stubborn, but on the bright side you’ll see what some of the other Link’s are thinking soon!!