#🌻.light breeze

[ffsg0jo]

whenever you need a moment of peace, away from gojo, you just play a slime scoopability compilation for him, and it has him entranced for at least 3 hours. broskis mesmerised, and all six eyes are focused on the scoops.

he occasionally lets out a soft gasp as well whenever a slime scoops really well, and he thinks the noises they make are so satisfying. the calming music in the background of the videos does wonders for him too, and he could fall asleep to those videos fr.

#🌻.lija speaks #his blue eyes are literally glittering #his mouth is open and his eyelashes are softly fluttering #his breathing is totally relaxed and even hes so calm #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #jjk writing #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo and slime just makes so much sense #🌻.light breeze

[tenelkadjowrites]

Wallflower - Part One - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)

PART TWO HERE.

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

🌻 Word count: 13k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

               “You’re welcome!”

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

*

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

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

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

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

*

               “Do you want to go grab coffee?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

               “Yeah, you too.”

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

               It’s relaxing and keeps my hands busy.

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

               “He’s here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

               “Ma’am?”

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

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

               “Hey.”

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

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

               “DnD?”

               “Yeah, that.”

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

               “Six…hours?”

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

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

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

               “The bard got cursed,” You deadpan.

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

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

               “Do you do this every week?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

               Two hours later, you are drunk.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

               But if you were wrong…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

               “Thank you,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

               “Dunno what either of those are.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

               Including you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

               “Would it be alright if I took a shower? I don’t want to impose. It just helps with the hangover.”

               Seonghwa is in an oversized Star Wars long sleeved shirt and sweatpants. His socks have odd looking dice on them that you don’t recognize. His large glasses rest on the bridge of his nose as usual. It’s the first time you’ve seen him wearing something other than business attire.

               “Sure, let me just get you the towels. Uhm, would you like some clothes? I can dig out some older clothes of mine, if you’d like.”

               “Yeah, thanks.”

               A few minutes later, Seonghwa is handing you towels, a large black shirt with a faded design on it (from a video game, he explained) and sweatpants. You rummage around your purse to dig up your emergency Stayed The Night makeup bag. This was the first time you were using it after just sleeping over at a guy’s house and not having sex with him. But you’re glad it’s in there since it has toothpaste, a small toothbrush and some other items you need.

               It’s always a gamble going into any man’s bathroom, and it is with a tentative push of the door that you step inside. However, just like the living room, it is clean and organized. Seonghwa even has actual skincare products by the sink. The shower is clean with high end shampoo, conditioner and body wash (also all in separate bottles!).

               Underneath the hot water, you wash off the night before. You wash off avoiding Sir Dipshit, you wash off the fact you feel disconnected from your coworkers, you even wash off your gossipy coworkers remark about how you’ve been different.

               But you can’t wash off the expression your drunken brain still remembers when you told Seonghwa the rumor. And you can’t wash off the way you felt around him last night when you asked him to dance nor the thoughts you had about him. You haven’t been that turned on around someone in so long. It’s cuz you were drunk, you argue with yourself. Seonghwa just isn’t your type.

               After the shower, you dry off, finish cleaning up and change into Seonghwa’s clothes. The shirt is soft, well worn, baggy on your frame and the sweatpants are a little long. But they smell nice and are comfortable. You stare at yourself in the mirror, running your fingers over the fabric. I need to make things right with him. He’s a nice person and he’s been kind to me and now he thinks I only started talking to him because of the rumor.

               And to make matters worse, that’s the truth.

*

               Seonghwa is sitting on the couch, two cups of coffee perched on the table. He has a book open in his lap, reading quietly. Tentatively, you sit down opposite him, reaching for the coffee while peering at the cover of the book. It’s some Star Wars book. It looks older than you expected, well worn, and there’s a man has blue skin with red eyes on the cover.

               “Thanks for letting me use your shower…and your clothes. And uh…for getting me here safely. And for taking me out the back way so no one saw I was being a messy drunk.”

               Seonghwa rests the book next to his coffee, picking up the cup and taking a small sip. The silence is starting to feel awkward now and you wish he would say something.

               So, you decide just to leap into it. “Listen, about what I said last night. About the ah…. rumor.” Your cheeks feel warm from just mentioning it. You never thought you’d actually be discussing this with him.

               Seonghwa’s hands wrap around the cup as he looks shyly down. His lashes are long, longer than when you spend too much on an overpriced mascara to try to get the same effect.

               “Can you…explain how you heard something like this about me?” Seonghwa asks quietly, his cheeks turning slightly pink.

               You push through how awkward this is going to be and tell him the entire story of how your coworker mentioned it over coffee. By the time you are done, Seonghwa has turned a deep crimson, his coffee long forgotten after being placed back on the table because he is so embarrassed. Silence hangs in between the two of you for a minute or so. You don’t press him to speak, figuring he deserves some time to sort out how he’s feeling about the entire thing.

               “It’s true that I went to the conference and slept with that regional manager. I figured since she lived across the country, it wouldn’t really matter,” He squirms uncomfortably, “I didn’t think she would talk about it and I certainly didn’t think it would spread all over the office. I didn’t know why there was an uptick in people talking to me this week. I didn’t ever dream it could be tied to…that. When it came to us…I guess I thought…uhm maybe you and I were becoming friends.”

               You feel a pang in your chest and move closer to Seonghwa, trying to salvage the conversation. “We are friends,” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you know they’re true. Maybe the two of you are very different but Seonghwa still makes you feel safe and seems to see you in a way that everyone else is missing.

               But he looks doubtful. “But you only started talking to me because…” He glances at you only for a split second. “Were you trying to…I mean…you and I…” He trails off, wringing his hands together.

               You stare at his hands, swallowing. No, you’re not my type. I was curious but there isn’t any attraction there, is what you want to say. The words would be so easy. A quick band-aid over a situation that has gotten out of hand.

               “That explains last night. Before we left,” He mumbles bashfully, “I thought maybe I was reading too much into it but you wanted to dance and…” He can’t finish his sentence again but you don’t need him to; you still clearly can recall how it felt to be that close to him and all the lascivious thoughts that popped into your head. You also can’t deal with the fact Seonghwa was worried he was reading too much into it when you were obviously all over him.

               You feel stuck. To tell him that you hadn’t thought about him in that way last night would be a lie. But to tell him would be admitting aloud to yourself that Seonghwa, the nerdiest guy you’ve ever met, is someone you’re attracted to. You’ve been protesting the entire time, to your coworkers, and to yourself that Seonghwa isn’t your type and you don’t see him that way. But…

               You feel nervous which is strange because you can’t recall the last time you were nervous around someone you found attractive. But Seonghwa, who seems to be as fragile as fine china, is in your hands at this moment. One wrong move and you’re going to drop him and make things even worse.

               “Well…uh…usually, you know, I don’t go for the…nerdy type.” Would he be insulted by that? “I was curious because I couldn’t picture such a thing. Like you…being like that. In bed. With the…you know.” You gesture vaguely, unable to mention his rumored big dick again now that you’re sober.

               “Right, yeah, of course,” He says quickly, too quickly, “I get that. And I know what people are like when drunk. Not thinking clearly.” Seonghwa looks as if he wants to flee which only makes you talk faster.

               “But you were so nice to me. With the coffee. I’ve been…struggling with work lately.” That puts it mildly. “And you were there when I needed someone. And I wasn’t…lying. Last night. When I said that I feel safe with you.”

               He looks a little more comforted by this, enough that he is looking up at you through those long lashes.

               “But I also…You know…uhm…” You trail off, unsure how to word the next part. Seonghwa looks at you curiously. God, it would be so easy to lie and let him believe I was just drunk last night and that was the end of it, you think.

               In fact, any regular person would leap at the lie and use it as a cover. But Seonghwa is still wringing his fucking hands together and you keep watching his fingers and you can’t believe it but you think you’re getting wet again – and this time you can’t blame booze. His entire posture, a mixture of tense and awkward, is strangely endearing. You quickly wonder what he would sound like in bed again and then try to banish the thought.

               You’ve been quiet for so long that Seonghwa gently goes, “You were saying?”

               But you aren’t really sure what you’re saying. Naturally, that means you keep going. “I do…wonder. If…maybe you’d want to…as friends…with benefits. Because like I said you’re not my type but my body seems to be like…reacting to you…ever since I heard the rumor. And I want to know if the rumor has merit.”

               Wow, amazing. Fantastic speech. Not only were most of your sentences unfinished but you basically asked Seonghwa to have sex with you just to see how your body responds like it’s a science experiment.

               Seonghwa is turning red again. His voice is slightly hoarse when he replies with, “Are you – ah. Are you asking to have sex with me? As friends?”

               “Y…yes.”

               Seonghwa’s breathing quickens and he looks away for a moment. You immediately want to crawl in a hole and hide.

               “I’m sorry,” You say hastily, “I don’t know what’s come over me. I tell you we’re friends and then immediately ask you for sex after offending you with some ridiculous rumor.” Your hands grip your knees, bracing yourself to stand up and to get out of here as quickly as possible. “Listen, I’m going to get my stuff and go. I’m just gonna Uber back to my place, don’t worry about it –”

               Seonghwa’s hand suddenly rests gently on top of yours. The touch knocks the breath out of your lungs. You stare at the sight of his long fingers extending over yours, his hand warm against your skin.

               “Okay,” is all he says quietly.

               Hardly daring to look up from the sight of his hand, you lock eyes with him. He is still blushing but looks resolute.

               “Uhm,” You exhale, “Sorry, I’ve never started a sexual encounter like this before.”

               “Me either,” Seonghwa shifts nervously and then says, “How about I just kiss you and if you like it, we can keep going? If you don’t feel anything, then it’s just the rumor clogging your head.”

               “S-sure.”

               Seonghwa carefully raises his other hand up towards your cheek, brushing against your skin with the back of his fingers. You shiver at the small touch, staring at him as he shifts closer to you. Acutely aware of how utterly surreal this is, you can only look at him as he cups your cheek. He grazes your lips with his thumb and your lips reflexively part at the touch. Your entire body feels as if it is tingling.

               You try to tamper down any expectations when Seonghwa leans forward to kiss you. You’re expecting the kiss to be awkward and messy in that unskilled way. You are waiting for him not to know what to do with his tongue and just roll it around in your mouth. Then, you’d tell him thanks but the rumor obviously had taken over your mind and it is better to remain friends without benefits.

               But then Seonghwa’s lips do touch yours as you close your eyes. It is a jolt to all your senses, white noise in your head as he kisses you so gently at first that you could imagine the touch. Your breath catches, heart rate accelerating as the kiss continues. His hand resting on top of yours gives a small squeeze, his other hand trailing to the back of your neck.

               You can feel yourself melting into the kiss, the tension seeping out of your body as Seonghwa’s tongue slips inside your mouth. There is a heat blossoming in your chest as your thighs clench. He trails small circles against your skin on your lower neck, making you shiver. Your tongue is against his now, your hand moving upwards to grip the front of his shirt, crumpling the Star Wars image up in your fist. He makes a small noise that only spurns you on more. You pull on the shirt so that he is closer, sliding into his lap, straddling him on the couch.

               Something drives you forward with reckless abandon, throwing caution to the wind and replacing it with desire. Seonghwa seems to mirror your feelings, his hands moving to your lower back, wiggling underneath the shirt to touch your bare skin. He presses down slightly, pushing you against him.

               You can feel the bulge in his sweatpants now and with a jolt, you think that maybe the rumor about the size is going to be true. Your hands are in his hair, his soft blonde locks curled around your fingers as the kissing continues.

               Your hangover is now a distant thought; making out with Seonghwa seems to be a miracle cure for a headache. Instinctively, you grind your hips against his bulge and he inhales sharply. His hands move to your ass, gripping the tender flesh there in his hands in a silent urge for you to keep going. You rock your hips against him, your pussy soaking wet. So much for just a kiss, you think dryly, marveling at the way your body responds to Seonghwa.

               His phone suddenly rings, jolting you a little by the noise. He glances over at it – it is on the kitchen counter – and gives a small shake of his head.

               “Ignore it,” He mumbles and you don’t mind doing that at all, resuming the kiss easily.

               The phone falls silent. Seonghwa’s breathing is heavy, mingling with your own, and kissing is becoming not enough. You want more and when he begins to kiss down your jawline and your neck, you reach behind you to take one of his hands and bring it forward, guiding him underneath the band of your sweatpants.

               He doesn’t hesitate now that you’ve given silent permission. You’ve been thinking about his hands ever since the rumor made you turn attention towards him and now Seonghwa presses his palm against the front of your underwear as his lips find yours again.

               You don’t think you’ve ever been this wet in your life. When the kiss breaks, you take in the sight of Seonghwa, breathless, his chest rising and falling quickly. His cheeks are tinted pink and his eyes are wide behind his large frames. You think about the times you’ve taken note of him in the past – a couple seconds of walking past him quickly in the hallway, not paying any attention because he came off as such a wallflower or zoning out when he talked in a meeting because you never could understand what he was saying and it made you feel stupid and insecure, and even the couple of times you giggled over someone making a joke at his expense. And now here you are, in his lap, with his hand against your cunt and every nerve in your body screaming for him. Jokes on me.

               Seonghwa pushes your underwear to the side, his fingers probing your folds as he leans forward and kisses you again. The sensation of his fingers touching you is making you dizzy. From this angle, it’s too difficult for his fingers to enter you which is about the only thing in the entire world you want at this moment.

               Muffled because of the kissing, you mumble, “Will you – your fingers –”

               To your surprise, Seonghwa smiles for a second against your lips. You pull away, just enough to see his expression. “What?” You ask.

               “Nothing, I just…I noticed you looking at my hands a lot the past few days.”

               Now it is your turn to feel embarrassed. “Oh, I…” You don’t really know what to say. It’s difficult to think when all you want is him.

               “Here, sit next to me,” He pats the space next to him and you slide off his lap.

               Seonghwa then gets on the floor in front of you, reaching upwards and sliding your sweatpants off your hips, leaving you in just your underwear and his borrowed t-shirt. He brings two fingers to the front of your underwear, pressing down on the fabric. “Well, she said he ate pussy like a champ.” Your coworker’s words bounce around in your head as Seonghwa removes your underwear and pushes your legs open so that you’re spread out in front of him.

               It’s a bit surreal to be in Seonghwa’s apartment on a Sunday morning, sitting on his couch half naked, with him on his knees in front of your pussy. His hands grip your thighs, pushing your legs apart as far as comfortable. You stare at the way his fingers dig into your skin, wanting nothing more than to have them buried in your cunt just to see what it feels like.

               But he leans forward and very carefully, using just the tip of his tongue, he flicks it across your swollen clit. You shudder, gasping but Seonghwa keeps a firm grip on your thighs to keep you spread in front of him. He doesn’t stop, using the tip of his tongue to stimulate your clit. Your hands grip the cushions of the couch, unable to tear your gaze away from the sight of Seonghwa’s tongue brushing against your nub. His eyes are closed and no matter how much your body shakes from the pleasure, his hold on your thighs doesn’t lessen, keeping you in place.

               You are cursing loudly, taken aback by just how good he can make you feel with the tip of his tongue. His pace steadily increases against your clit. Your hips buck but he doesn’t stop, his tongue expertly dancing over your sensitive nub.

               Distantly, you are aware his phone is ringing again. But he doesn’t stop and you aren’t about to bring things to a halt for a fucking phone call. You thought Seonghwa would be messily rolling his tongue around – or even worse, just focusing on your hole and wondering why you couldn’t finish. The rumor saying he could eat pussy seemed as ridiculous as all the other aspects of what your coworker told you.

               Forcing your eyes open, you look down at Seonghwa working your clit. There is something sexy about how he looks, with his eyes closed, using just the tip to make you feel this good, and his hands holding you in place. Even his glasses, usually something you found so dorky before, look good on him now.

               He still hasn’t put his fingers inside you but your climax is rapidly approaching. You want to try to tell him you’re close but speaking is impossible. All that leaves your mouth are garbled noises of pleasure and occasionally you whine out his name. Your knuckles are white from gripping the cushions and your orgasm suddenly begins, hips bucking but Seonghwa holds them down.

               Your head rolls back against the couch as the pleasure overtakes you. Your entire body tingles, skin incredibly warm. Seonghwa slows down as you cum until your hips lower back down. Only then he pulls away. Breathless, you can’t even look down at him because your body feels heavy from how intense the orgasm was.

               Seonghwa releases his hold on your thighs but quietly goes, “Leave your legs spread, I want to see your pussy.”

               It’s the first time something vulgar has left his mouth this entire time and it turns you on. Having talked to Seonghwa only a couple of times very quickly prior to this week, you never thought you’d hear such a sentence from him especially directed at you.

               Finally, he brings his fingers to your cunt, spreading your lips open slightly. “Can I ask you something?”

               You think you reply but it comes out a bit garbled.

               But Seonghwa takes it as an affirmative and goes, “Last night, when you asked me to dance…what were you thinking about?” To your amazement, he actually looks shy after asking even though he just made you cum thirty seconds ago.

               This meant you had to form words now, an arduous task given the circumstances. “I was wondering if you were in shape because sometimes the way your work clothes looked on you…and I was thinking about if the rumors about you were true. And…” You swallow, “I was thinking about your fingers and how long they were.”

               As soon as the words leave your mouth, Seonghwa slides a finger in your hole, making you gasp in both relief and surprise. He looks a bit satisfied and you realize he must have known you were thinking about his fingers and just wanted to hear you admit it.

               “What do you think?” He murmurs, “Does it feel long?”

               His finger is completely buried in your cunt and he wiggles it slightly, making you clamp down around it instinctively. Seonghwa’s eyes move upwards to look at you, taking in the sight of you whimpering and clearly wanting more.

               He inserts another finger while going, “Does it feel how you thought it would?” Slowly, he moves his two fingers in your cunt, and you can hear how soaking wet your hole is.

               You watch, entranced at the sight of Seonghwa’s long and slender fingers pumping in your cunt. Each time he pulls them out, you can see your juices smeared across his skin before he pushes them back inside. He wiggles them each time they are buried in your hole and it feels so good that you don’t think you can talk. You try to move your hips in time with his fingers but his other hand keeps your hips down against the couch.

               The phone is ringing again. You’d wish it would shut up already. Seonghwa seems too dazed to even notice, staring at your cunt swallowing his fingers.

               “Is that the sort of thing you were thinking about? How my long fingers would feel in your tight cunt?” He asks softly, “You’re really tight. I don’t know how I’m going to fit inside you.”

               The confession catches your breath because he is teasing you now, skirting around the rumor about his big dick without showing you.

               “You can barely take my fingers. You think you can take another one?”

               “Yes,” You breathe out, “I can. I can take your cock too.”

               “We’ll see about that, baby,” He murmurs and the affectionate use of ‘baby’ makes you shiver.

               Another finger dips into your hole as Seonghwa finger fucks you. His pace has steadily increased but with three fingers, you can feel your hole jammed full of him. He’s right, you are tight and you don’t know how you’d take his apparent big cock but the universe knows you’d be trying.

               Seonghwa leans forward and wraps his lips around your clit while finger banging your hole as much as your cunt allows. You groan, the pleasure spiking, your hand grabbing onto his blonde hair as he finally releases his hold on your hips. This allows you to grind your pussy against his fingers as he sucks hard on your clit. To your amazement, you know that you’re going to cum again already. He doesn’t let up on your clit or your hole, his fingers making obscene noises from how wet you are. When he wiggles them inside you, it’s enough to make your brain hazy with pleasure.

               You curse as your second climax begins. You can feel yourself gushing around his fingers, your juices smearing all over his fingers down to his palm. You’re grinding against his face, probably making a mess on his glasses too for all you know but cannot stop yourself. You’re moaning and whimpering, your head pressing against the back of the couch as the pleasure becomes overwhelming.

               Collapsing against the couch when the orgasm begins to fade, you can hardly catch your breath. Your entire body tingles. You cannot recall the last time you had someone make you cum that close together. You didn’t even know it was possible.

               Opening your eyes, you look downwards at Seonghwa. He has pulled his fingers out of your hole and put them in his mouth, tasting you. His glasses are slightly askew and messy in the most pornographic way. His tongue swirls around his fingers. The entire image is immediately burned into your brain.

               The phone rings again. Annoyed, you glare at it on the counter. “Should you answer that?” Not that you don’t want to hop on his dick immediately but the mere fact they won’t stop calling makes you worry something bad has happened and you’re keeping Seonghwa from it for your own selfish reasons.

               “I should although admittedly I don’t want to,” He replies, standing up.

               The bulge in his pants is evident and large. You hope the phone call won’t take long so you can jump on him. It’s amazing how he’s made you cum twice already but you still want more.

               He looks at his phone and frowns. “It’s work,” He directs this at you before answering, “Hello?” A long pause as someone rambles on the other end. Then, “No one else can help you with this?” More silence, more rambling from the other end. “No, I’m just…I’m in the middle of something, that’s all,” He mumbles, shooting you a glance, “Yeah, I get it. No, we don’t want that to happen. Yeah, give me an hour, alright?”

               Your stomach falls as Seonghwa ends the call and looks chagrined. “I’m sorry. I gotta go into the office. The new guy fucked up the software update push and it’s gotta go out today before everyone else comes back tomorrow.”

               You distantly remember a meeting two weeks ago about a software update but since it had more to do with Seonghwa’s side than yours, you spaced out. That had been happening a lot lately.

               Still, you suddenly feel shy and embarrassed, quickly snatching up your underwear off the floor. “Right, yeah, I get it.”

               “Let me drive you home on my way in,” He says hurriedly, scampering back over as you slip your underwear back on.

               You really don’t want to Uber after being half fucked, in another man’s clothes, slightly hungover so you accept. Seonghwa looks relieved; he is jittery like he expects you to be mad over the fact he has to go to work. He sits down next to you, looks as if he is going to reach for your hand and then has second thoughts.

               “I’m sorry again,” He says.

               You want to laugh. Seonghwa, the least likely guy on the planet, just made you cum twice and he’s apologizing? You aren’t even sure for what. You reach up for his glasses, gently removing them from his face. He looks confused.

               “You might wanna clean these before you go in,” You say quietly and he realizes the state they are.

               He blushes, nodding. “Y-yeah, good idea. Thanks.” He takes the glasses back, scurrying off to get cleaned up for work.

               You sit there, torn between confusion over where exactly this left you and Seonghwa, how a guy like him could make you feel so good, and what happens next.

               Well, you think, at least I know one part of the rumor is definitely true. He really can eat pussy like a champ.

PART TWO HERE.

🌻 Tags: @thewonderofkpop - @obligatoryidolblog - @yunhofingers - @foggyinternetchaos - @multiland - @whatudowhennooneseesyou - @jess-1404 - @just-here-to-read-01 - @likexaxdaydream - @senpai-of-doom - @lilhwahwa - @btsreader12 - @talkbykhalid - @pyeonghongrie-main - @inneratinyrebel - @8tinytings - @cherrypandora - @almondmilkeu - @kitten4sannie - @hwalysm - @revehosh - @mulletjoonsupremacy - @byungaji - @erensluut - @singularity777 - @hwa-whiskers - @luxvatz - @seonghwasstar - @eyesonlyformingi - @rxnexxi - @rosealie05 - @xirenex - a couple of you couldn’t be tagged so i’ll message you separately, sorry.

#seonghwa smut #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa fics #ateez smut #ateez fics #wallflower #kpop fic #100 notes #500 notes #1000 notes

[blueywrites]

wildflowers: what if?

a turtle dove & the crow blurb

1940s Farm AU, featuring bsf!neighbor!eddie x fem!reader

I was inspired to write this in part because of this lovely Eddie drawing that was brought to my attention a couple of days ago. I'd describe this little blurb as dark chocolate - a teensy bit bitter, but mostly sweet. enjoy!🌻

this takes place at the very end of the wildflower scene in part two. minor spoilers below! cw: 18+. allusion to sex.

masterlist | playlist - I recommend Honeybee by Mountain Men for this blurb.

The sun has sunk past orange and blue to deep violet and pink, the oaks and hickories now nothing but shadows, signaling that it's time to return home.

Yet, what if it were not?

If there were no need to sneak and hide, you would not look up at the shifting sky and feel compelled to stir from the sea of wildflowers you've been wading in with your beloved. Instead, you would watch the fading light play on the planes of Eddie's face. You would see how the setting sun deepens the honeyed contentment in his umber eyes, how the violet shadows sharpen the angles of his pale features just as they soften the supple curves.

Eddie would cleanse your skin of the remnants of him, wiping away his spend from between your thighs. Now tended by his careful hand, you would settle on your back beside him, basking in your shared contentment. Your skirt and apron would billlow up from your legs, caught playfully by the breeze, dragging against the flowerheads and collecting pollen; the honeybees would dance around you, and you would regard them calmly, at peace with the universe that surrounds you.

If there was no Mama waiting up for you at home, Eddie would lift his arm and point toward the sky, guiding your gaze with his hand and your imaginings with the rasp of his brash voice, weaving patterns for you in the chaos of shadowy clouds. You would listen to his murmuring and nuzzle your nose against his shoulder, breathing in the tang of his sweat, the warm hush of tobacco, and beneath them, the precious musk of petrichor - that summer storm that brews in Eddie's blood and seeps from his pores as if only to tantalize you. You would splay yourself against him comfortably, and as your hair tickles his nose, he would huff and sputter dramatically until you push his face away with teasing, affectionate fingers.

Together, you would make up lives for the cloud creatures drifting across the sky. Miss Mouse dreams of being an actress, he'd propose. Mr. Elephant is running away to Panama to escape the draft, you'd offer. Mr. Hippopotamus needs to clean behind his ears, Eddie tells you. That's not Mr. Hippopotamus, you'd counter, that's Mr. Deer with a bad case of gout.

At that, Eddie would wrinkle his soft nose and laugh - a husky, goofy thing that squeaks brokenly at the height of his amusement, a vestige of his waning boyhood - and you would fall even more in love with him. You would think there is no way to love him more, to let him take up more space behind your ribs than he already does, but somehow, you would find room.

If there was no Pa to sneer at the wild boy next door, you would pluck stems of coneflower and ironweed, offerings of the earth that you select with care. You would lay them out carefully on Eddie's chest in lines of gold and red and indigo, looking at him giddily, and he'd read your girlish intentions in the curve of your lips. He'd huff and groan, protesting that boys don't wear flowers in their hair, but you'd know that secretly, he is pleased to have you adorn him. You'd straddle his waist again, though innocently now, and you would comb your fingers through the soft frizz of his curls, arranging his bangs against his forehead first before patiently working out the tangles in that length of ink spilled across the grass. You'd weave the flowers you'd plucked into the hair above his bangs, creating a line of lushness that blooms and floats on that dark, roiling sea.

If he were not a crow, and you not a turtle dove, Eddie would feel along the powder of those petals when you were done. They'd kiss his roughened fingers like the whisper of a mouse's whiskers, and he'd stroke them with the tip of each one, tentatively exploring what he cannot see. As a blush pinks the apples of his cheeks and spreads to warm his ears, he would look up at you almost shyly, as if perhaps your gaze might be a mirror he could see himself in. Eddie would look at you as if he hopes he truly is as pretty as your adoring eyes tell him he is - so heavy and soft and glassy as you regard him. And when he finds the truth there, he would abandon his blind exploration of the blooms to instead take your face in his broad palms and kiss your lips, dropping his gratefulness and adoration there so tenderly that you'd feel your heart might burst with the welling of sweet joy that floods there.

But Eddie is a crow, and you are a turtle dove. There is a Mama waiting up for you at home, and there is a Pa who sneers at the wild boy next door. There is a need to sneak and hide.

So you must rise from the wildflower field and part from Eddie Munson with lingering glances and yearnings for what could be if only things were different.

Yet, do not fuss, Turtle Dove. You will get these things in time. You need only to wait.

So you will wait. You will wait. You will wait.

And then, my love, by the time the buds awaken again, you will have what you wait for.

You will have it forever.

#blueywrites #td&tc #farmer!eddie #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Wallflower 44 (Ending 2)

Warnings: age gap, creepin’, slow burn, stepdad-adjacent, possible noncon/dubcon, abuse, violence, self-harm, manipulation, panic attack, dissociation, gaslighting, miscarriage.

Character: silverfox!Thor

Your mother meets a new man, but he doesn’t seem very interested in her.

Note: let me know if you want a loki ending and I'lldo one if I get a decent response.

<3 Another erratic drabble series. Appreciate any and all feedback. Love you all. And I didn’t expect this chapter to go this way or to be a bit longer than usual.

You stare at the bottle of the pills. 'Take these until they're all done, until it passes.' When the doctor told you what was happening to you, you didn't belive him.

It couldn't be. It. A baby. Was anyhow. Now, a miscarriage. There's no way you could be pregnant. Or could have been.

You stand in the sterile hallways. The bustle of the hospital rushes around you. The doctors and nurses are onto their next patients. You're forgotten, just like you always were.

A shiver runs through you as your mind echoes the soft noise of water, the ripples rolling from the plunge of his hand, his fingers between your legs, the sensation bubbling in you. What he told you never happened. What you never knew he did.

You take a breath and hide the pills you have to go. You want it to end. You want to leave this place and act like you were never here.

You follow the signs to the waiting room and find Thrud in a chair, elbow on the armrest, head tilted against it. As you approach she looks up and yawns. She gives a gentle smile.

"You're okay?" She stands. 

You nod. She stares at you. Expectant. Waiting for you to say more.

"So?" She prompts.

"We can go."

Her face falls, "that it? You're not going to tell what's wrong?"

"Anemic," you lie, "it's why I'm bleeding so heavy. Said I have to take pills are whatever."

"Oh. Okay, my mom had that after she got her IUD out," she says, reaching to gently touch your shoulder, "I'm glad it wasn't anything serious."

"Me too," you force a smile, "I just wanna get home and sleep."

"Yeah, mood," she sighs and jingles her keys, "we'll take it easy tomorrow."

"Sounds good to me," you walk with her towards the doors.

You can't tell her the truth. It doesn't matter. Even if she believed you, even if you could prove any of it. It's not a big deal. Besides, you should tell him first. The father. Her father.

🌻

Thrud falls asleep first. You knew she would. You're wide awake despite the frailness in your bones, the draining suck on your energy as you feel the life bleeding from you. You wait until she's snoring to move, slowly, watching her closely.

You get out of the bed and cross the room on your toes. You go into the bathroom and take out the bottle of pills from behind the toilet where you hid them. You put them back in your pocket and sidle you.

You slip on your sandals and creep through the shadows. You let yourself out the front door, shutting it carefully behind you. It's eerily dark as you descend the steps to even ground.

You watch the moon, finding your way to the villa not far from Thrud's. Your stomach churns as you look at the dark windows. You're not their for a fight, you have none left. You're there for the truth. For an end.

Your mother was always right. You're nothing more than a burden, but Thor was the only person to ever make you feel like you weren't. 

You climb onto the porch and knock. You wait out there, alone, a breeze swirling around you. You raise your hand to knock again but the door opens, just a crack as an umbrous figure looks out at you.

"Kitten," Thor's voice grits in his throat as he flicks on the indoor light, illuminating his large figure as he lets the door open further, "what are you–"

You hold up a finger against your lips. His brow furrows and he snaps his mouth shut. His confusion is obvious as he watches you speechlessly.

He nods and steps back, waving you inside. You trake the wordless invitation and enter. He shuts the door and trails you. 

You glance around. Theres is no good place to do this. There is no good way to say it.

You face him and take a breath.

"I just got back from the hospital," you state flatly.

"The hosp–"

You show your palm, begging. You need him to let you speak. He quiets and bows his head, eyes boring into you.

You pick your lip, searching for an explanation. You don't want to go over it all again; the bleeding, the pain, the fear, the exam, the doctor.

"I lost our baby," the words tumble out and stiff silence rises between you.

"That– that isn't–"

"I'm not mad."

"Kitten, I didn't."

"Thor," you say crisply, "I said I'm not mad. I'll only be mad if you keep lying to me."

He presses his lips together. His throat constricts. A tinge of red touches his cheeks. He drops his head and pushes back his silver hair from his face.

He comes close and offers his hand. You take it and let him guide you through the archway to the sitting room. He leads you to the couch and lowers you with him.

"I… it is only because I love you," he says, "I never meant to hurt you–"

Your throat locks up so tight and your eyes sting. You put your other hand over his knuckles and squeeze. You suck in a breath sharply. 

You can't go back to your mother and you never could be on your own. 

"If…" you begin. "If I hadn't lost it…" you choke, grip tightening on his hand as you tremble, "would you have taken care of it? The baby?"

"Of course, kitten, of course," he chants as he lifts his head, "I would. I would. I only ever wanted to take care of you. It's all I've ever done."

You meet his gaze. His eyes are blue and misty. You're not really sad about the baby but he is. You see the pain in him. You feel it.

"Promise?"

"I swear," he quavers.

"Okay."

"Okay?" His eyes are wide and afraid.  

He's scared of losing you. Someone like him, someone so big, so strong, is scared. Because of you. He wants you. No one's ever wanted you.

"Next time," your voice rises thin and quaky, "I want to be awake. I want to… feel you. I want to feel your love."

He brings his hand to your chin, "I should've never…"

"You never asked," you whisper.

He quiets. He dips his chin and slides his hand around your neck and pulls you into his embrace. He nestles you against his chest. You grab onto his shirt, clinging tight, and let the world roll over you.

You sob as his other hand untangles from yours. He rubs your back as your tears spill out. Tears you can't hold back or claim. Tears of anger, grief, fear, helplessness. Tears of surrender.

"You're okay, kitten," he coos, "we will know next time. We will be better, won't we?"

You clasp onto him. Next time? If that's what he wants. If that's what you have to do. You'll be whatever he wants you be, as long as he wants you.

#thor #dark thor #dark!thor #thor x reader #series #drabble #wallflower #au #silverfox #mcu #marvel #avengers

[iwaoiness]

Tooru's first scar, Hajime's first scare

He is restless, very restless. He wriggles his fingers, some rubbing against the bandage his mother wrapped around his thumb earlier in the day, and the reddened hangnails throb a little sore. His legs dangle from the white chair, one swinging with an agitated rhythm.

The gentle caresses his mother's giving his back don't help. Hajime barely feels them. Neither do her soothing words. Hajime barely hears it.

His eyes are fixed on door 104. They have been for what seems like hours, even though they have been there for barely twenty minutes.

He wants to go in now. He needs to go in now. Everything feels too sterile, too silent, too grown-up. He wants Oikawa's warmth, the colour of his hair and eyes, his booming voice. He wants his best friend by his side.

Then, a soft creak resonates through the silent hallway, causing Hajime to tense completely in his seat. His fingers cease their movement, his legs freeze in place. There is something tugging at him inside his chest, a strong impulse that also makes his heart feel heavy and each beat ache against his ribs.

As someone exits the room, Hajime scarcely registers whether the doctor is male or female. That impulse wins him over, so he forgets all his manners, catapults himself from his chair and charges into the room, brushing past the surprised doctor and heedless of his mother's calls.

The corridor is very short, then opens into a large, bright room. Morning light bathes every corner, one of the windows is subtly open and the gentle breeze carries the fresh scent of the flowers that Oikawa-san is arranging, his back turned to Iwaizumi. But the little boy's gaze immediately falls on Tooru, lying on the bed.

"Hajime-chan! You're here!" His big round eyes light up with surprise under his ruffled hair, lips open in one of the prettiest, biggest smiles he's ever seen.

Iwaizumi's heart stops hurting and the colours come back.

"Oh, Hajime-kun, welcome" Oikawa-san also greets him, joyful.

Hajime barely pauses to give a small bow to him before walking over to the bed where Tooru is, just as his mother enters as well. He hears her call out to him again, with that serious tone she always has when she's going to scold him, but Oikawa-san says something that seems to calm her down.

"You have to see the Stitch sticker that Aya-sensei gave me for being very good! It's so cut...!" But Tooru's voice trails off as Hajime, who knows he shouldn't do that, that he should go easy because Tooru is freshly operated on, climbs onto the bed and wraps his little arms around Oikawa.

It's no longer cold, everything feels warmer and Iwaizumi's shoulders slump with relief.

"You're okay now, you're okay now," he murmurs, careful not to hug too tightly, to keep all his weight on the knees he's leaning on.

He knows that Oikawa is really well, his parents explained to him that appendicitis was not very serious as long as it was cured in time as it had happened with Tooru. Still, Tooru is his best friend, his favourite person (even though he drives him crazy every day at all hours). They have been together for as long as he can remember, there is not a day without Tooru, and if there is no Tooru, there is his memory, his name, their shared toys, the piece of clothing he always forgets.

He feels Tooru's little arms wrap around his body as well and his soft laughter tickles close to his ear.

"It's weird when you hug me first, Hajime-chan," he teases and Iwaizumi, for the first time since yesterday afternoon, smiles, blinking rapidly when he feels his eyes water.

He is a strong child. And although he knows that strong children cry too, he refuses to cry first.

"I hope they left you with an ugly scar" He strokes his back the way his mum does, sparingly, lovingly, carefully.

"Nothing's as ugly as your bad personality, you big meanie!" He protests, snuggling much closer.

...

dude i've been wanting to write more about kiddos iwaoi for YEARS

u can finde me on my ao3 🌻

🍉

#iwaoi #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu!! #hajime iwaizumi #hq fluff #soft and fluffy #iwaoi kiddos #iwaoi childhood #iwaoi fluff #iwaoi headcanon #little oikawa tooru #little iwaizumi hajime #iwaoi drabble #iwaoi soft #childhood friends #haikyuu drabble #hurt/comfort #no hurt at all u know just a little bit

[namitha]

June, a month of warmth and wonder, arrives with a vibrant embrace. Nature dances to a symphony of blooming flowers, lush greenery, and the gentle whispers of a summer breeze. The days are longer, offering more time to laze through the beauty that surrounds us. The sun shines with a thousand lights, kindling the spirit of adventure in us. During the monsoon season in June, the sky opens up and releases its watery symphony upon the earth. But June is not just a season of outdoor beauty, it is also an invitation to look within and reflect. This is the time to take a break, listen to the whispers of our hearts and align ourselves with our deepest desires. This is an opportunity to rejuvenate, take care of yourself and grow personally. So, let us welcome the month of June with open arms, embracing her gifts of sunshine, growth and connection. Let us embark on this journey with gratitude and a sense of wonderment, knowing that in this month there is the potential for extraordinary experiences and transformations. May, June unfolds like a beautiful poem, leaving us forever touched by its magic.🌻

.

#welcome june #new month #new me #let us welcome the month of June with open arms #thursday 1st June #let us embark on this journey with gratitude #🌻🍀🌻

[lycheeteeni]

Child of Dawn

🌻

Born in a village, amidst fields of vibrant green,

I, a child of dawn, in nature's embrace, keen.

In dawn's embrace, where dreams allure,

In nature's cradle, innocence pure.

Chasing chickens through the sun-kissed morn,

In tender years, where memories are born.

Darting through the dew-kissed grass they roam,

Their feathers whispering secrets known.

In the morning's haze, a crisp tomato gleamed,

Its vine a fragrant trail, in sunlight it beamed.

With eager hands, amidst the dew, I reached,

To pluck the fruit, its essence softly preached.

From vine to palm, a journey swift and mute,

Juicy sweetness burst, a morning tribute.

Seeds trickled down, cheeks kissed by light,

A nourishing quench, a morning delight,

Beneath the verdant canopy, I roam,

Where wildflowers sway and spirits roam.

Their petals brushed by morning breeze,

In whispers soft, their tales they tease.

Through meadows vast, I wander free,

Where mustard fields stretch, a golden home.

Their blooms, a sea of yellow, vibrant and bold,

Their fragrance, a tale of wonders untold.

Yellow blooms towering high,

Against the canvas of the sky.

Lost in their midst, in a trance I sway,

Mustard flowers, in golden array.

I pick its flowers, adorning my hair.

Their fragrance, potent, fills the air,

Enchanting Intoxicating, aroma divine,

In memories preserve this golden mine.

JI

04-13-24

#poem #poems on tumblr #original poem #poetry #love poem #spilled poetry #poems and poetry #love poems #the tortured poets department #poets on tumblr #childhood #nature #bliss #innocence #happiness #mental health #mental wellness #artists on tumblr #arts on tumblr #art #poet #poetscommunity #writers of tumblr #writeblr #artists of tumblr #dead poets society #poets of tumblr #writers and poets #positivity #love

[ghost-proofbaby]

congrats on 1k!!! 💙💙🌻🌻 I would like to request Eddie and my favorite song of the moment which is 'House Song' by Searows. it's kinda sad but cozy, so feel free to go easy on my heart and not write it angsty. or do. 😭🥰

thank you bluey <3 oh my word, this is my first time hearing this song and it is so terribly cozy and yet so sad in such a familiar way. i chose to focus on the lyric "something inside of me is rotten, i have to find it and cut it out", and also was inspired by the line from Euripides in which Orestes says "it's rotten work." and Pylades replies "not to me. not if it's you."

also, totally unrelated, but if i could lock this piece away in my soul until my days end, i would. i got way too carried away and made a fool of myself i fear.

warnings: none except bad writing and me taking a metaphor too far as i tried too hard though be warned this one is in third person rather than second to switch it up!!!

1k celebration - come party with me!

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

People do not make good homes.

It is a hard lesson Eddie has had to learn in his twenty three years of life. 

Wide, innocent eyes are not open windows with billowing curtains. Caressing limbs are not bed sheets to wrap you up on wintry mornings. Pursed lips are not crackling speakers bleeding out familiar tunes as a record turns against a needle. Soft kisses aren’t the scent of clean laundry, tired yawns aren’t creaks from the attic, and ribs are not enough to build up the four walls to make a home. 

It happens every time; Eddie lets someone in, he opens himself up and lets the vulnerability drip from him in waves, until the fatal day comes in which suddenly the front door is closed on him, never to open again. The locks have been changed, the windows have been slammed shut, the sheets have been tucked under mattresses to grow cold. All the familiar, comforting old vinyls lay to rest and gather dust in a crate in the corner of abandoned rooms. 

People do not make good homes. He has come to accept this. Until she came along. 

Maybe her soft eyes weren't open windows to let in a summer’s breeze, but he swore he could still see the sun pouring in through their freshly painted panes. Maybe her steady arms weren’t clean sheets from the dryer, but they still blanket him in warmth all the same when they’d wrap their way around his waist. Whenever she’d open her mouth and give him a glimpse into her mind, it didn’t sound like his uncle’s old albums. It was something new, an unfamiliar melody he could neither tune out nor hum along to. She was a labyrinth of possibilities, a new shiny two-story house with the picket white fence. Bare feet against wooden floors that didn’t creak with protest, shimmering light fixtures that didn’t flicker with uncertainty, a front door swung wide open as if to say, come in. Make yourself at home. 

And when he made no move to come inside, when he stayed planted in the pristine front yard clear of weeds and verdant with hope, she had simply left the porch light on for him. She shut the door, but she never turned the lock. A reassurance that her offer still stood, in soft smiles and understanding nods, until he was ready. 

People should not make good homes. But then again, people like her existed. 

Eddie kept up the battle long enough. But eventually, the war inside his mind had raged long enough, and he walked up those front porch steps. He reached out for the unlocked door, and it was a breath of relief when it opened for him with a gentle click. She never locked him out. She had kept her promise of an offer. And when he finally arrived in the entryway, when he finally breached the threshold, she was waiting there, eager and gentle and beautiful, already reaching for his coat. She had been waiting. Always waiting, always patient. Just for him.

Her walls were fresh with paint, layering over any imperfections left behind by previous tenants. All scuff marks left by kitchen screaming matches had long been buffed out of mahogany boards. There are no ticks in door frames to account for the change of her height over the years, no frames of the ones before him she had let in. No signs of anyone having made her house a home before him. He couldn’t see her history in the way she could see his. Instead, he had to listen to it. Over cups of lukewarm coffee made just the way he likes it, over photo albums she describes that sit in a box in the attic, left to rot but never be forgotten. He learns of her past as she speaks of it as if it didn’t happen to her, as if it had been some movie she’d seen on late night television. And his heart aches. Because as she tells him all this, as she hands over a key to her heart and shows him how to unlatch her bay windows, he can see what her eyes beg of him. 

This has never been a home before. Please, make this house a home. Please.

But he’s terrified. His past is a conglomeration of abandoned cookie cutter homes, void of the warmth he feels beneath her surface. A doom town waiting for the atomic explosion. That’s what he is – the atomic explosion. He is the chaos and the destruction, the thing to burn down all that he holds sacred. It wasn’t hard to figure out; he had always been the common denominator in his own rotation of his own tenants. He’s terrified to add her home onto the end of the street, to lay in wait for the day he ruins all that they are. All that she is. 

But then she’s kissing him. She’s kissing him, and she’s holding him, and she’s reading her favorite books aloud to him in the afternoon lulls, and he can’t help but indulge. Because she’s home. She’s baked cookies and framed photos of better days. She’s hot chocolate and white Christmas mornings. She’s strong oak trees in the backyard and fresh cut flowers in the kitchen. 

People do not make good homes. But she is more than a metaphor.

The key to her hangs heavy on his keyring, but it is worth the weight on nights like tonight. Nights where he watches the rise and fall of her chest as her cheeks presses to his bare shoulder, her hand still curled around his even in her sleep. She loves him, she waits for him, she makes him feel more at home than anyone has in his twenty three years of life. Even after she had discovered the rot deep inside of him, she stayed and persisted as she digs it out and places down new baseboards, prepared to stand by his side as he makes the necessary renovations to himself that have been years in the making. She’s everything to him. She’s his home, his past be damned. 

People do not always make good homes. They are nothing more than houses, and just because the lights are on in the windows does not mean they are meant to be the place you lay your head to rest. They do not come prefilled with the love and warmth that is needed to be good homes. It is a process, aching and terrible and hard enough work that most people will not bother. But with her in his arms, Eddie thinks he is finally learning what it means to make a house a home. 

It was never about him making her house a home. It was about him finding home in himself, with her picture on his bedside table and her breath on his neck as she rests easy beside him. This lesson, as it turns out, wasn’t quite as hard to learn.

#bluey 💙 #thank u ily <3 #1k celebration #i've got no words i think i flew too close to the sun or whatever #it's like when you give friends deep advice but have to end it with 'BUT LIKE IDK' #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fic #spoiler alert: this is not about houses/homes #almost none of it is #my high school english teacher would have a field day with me huh

[yellowwithalisp]

𝙷𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝙸𝚖𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚟𝚎- 𝙲𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝙾𝚞𝚝 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚆𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚠

You are a simple S.T.A.R.S member just trying to live your life. But your past keeps finding ways to make you scream in the dark….

(Sorry for this chapter taking a bit longer again! Wekser x reader requests are still open!!) ( WARNING!!! this chapter does contain lime that goes into a lemon, do not read if you are not over 18. This is your warning - Yellow 💛🌻) (Final count- 6,072 words.)

𝙷𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝙸𝚖𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚟𝚎- 𝙲𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝙾𝚞𝚝 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚆𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚠 (𝙳𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚕𝚢 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜)

🖤🔪▪ 𝙸𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚡 🥀🖤▪ 𝚂𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚜~ 🖤▪ 𝙰𝚖𝚋𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛: 𝙲𝚊𝚛 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎: 𝙰𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝: 𝙲𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝙾𝚞𝚝 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚆𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚠 𝚇 𝙳𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚕𝚢 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜: 𝘉𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 1. 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙻𝚘𝚝: 𝚁.𝙿.𝙳. 𝙼𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝙷𝚊𝚕𝚕: 𝚂.𝚃.𝙰.𝚁.𝚂 𝙾𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚎: 🖤🔪▪ 𝘍𝘰𝘳𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥 🖤🔪▪ 𝘉𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝚃𝚊𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝. @bisexualforestfire (Send in a ask asking to be added if you want to be added to the tag list!)

The streets are destinated cars parked on the side of the road no lights on Wesker was currently stopped at a crosswalk. The traffic light swung in the breeze, telling all the nonexistent drivers to stop. The “walk” sign was on, letting all the nonexistent pedestrians step out onto the faded white lines of the crosswalk. The rain somehow crew heavier on the windshield as I held my arms nervously to my chest and looked out the window. He hasn't said a word since I first woke up, I couldn't tell if you took glances at me with the sunglasses on. I knew it was in deep water when I woke up- the dream didn't help that much either. Wesker was smart, he knew exactly how to get what he wanted. But there are some things that I need to hide from him. Things that I figured out on my own that I don't want anyone else to know.

I rub my right shoulder nervously and then rubbed in my arm. I felt the familiar mark on my arm, one that I hated. It has been there since I was a child when I lost my parents. I don't exactly want him to see my arm and ask me why there is a bite mark on it that looked to be years old and not healing. I could hear the thunder rumbling inside the car as he drove. We finally started to pass a few cars again. It gave me something to at least distract myself from until we got to my apartment. My eyes sneaked a glance over at Wesker. He was staring straight ahead, I couldn't read his face. But his hands are tightly gripped around the steering wheel. My eyes shifted away back out the window.

I'm starting to wish that magically a huge land of traffic would appear in the small time left before we reached my apartment but I wasn't so lucky. Wesker drive into the parking lot and parked near the building. I felt him turning the car off and opening his door to step out of it. My hands were shaky as I started to lift them up to open my side of the door, but was stopped when Wekser opened it, and was standing with a red umbrella over his head.

"Let's make this quick."

He almost growled out, turning his head and looking toward the main entry of my apartment's building. I swallowed nervously as he had the umbrella on my head before he started walking off without me. Taking the umbrella with him. I quickly moved the catch-up with him as I took the keys in my bag to unlock the door for us to get in. It was silent all the way to the elevator and going up. Wesker hadn't said a word as we entered. When we grew near my apartment, we can hear my radio from the other side of my door. "You may as well take my heart Catherine, it's already full of you. You walked into it the day we met." The radio played as we both stepped into my home. I turn on the light for the kitchen and dining room took off my shoes and looked over at him.

"Make yourself at home I guess, captain."

"𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘢 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘭, 𝘙𝘶𝘥𝘰𝘭𝘱𝘩."

"𝘖𝘩, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦? 𝘋𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦? 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯. 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘢 𝘵𝘺𝘱𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘤𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦, 𝘢 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯."

"𝘖𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘎𝘰𝘥, 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥. 𝘛𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘰, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘨𝘰."

"𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘵? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘳?"

"𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘦. 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘴."

"𝘛𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘴? 𝘊𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘦, 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦."

"𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦?-"

The Captain glances around my apartment. I never did invite any of the S.T.A.R.S members to my home I walked up to the counter next to the stove and turn off the radio. He paused as he saw a photo I had on the table. It was a photo of me and my old Squad from back in the military. They were all wearing gas masks except for me. The type of mask you wear for poison gas or toxic environments. Yet in the photo, I didn't have any.

"This photo was during Operation Brass correct?"

He asked as he picked up the framed photo to look at it closer. I nod my head as I looked over at him. "Yeah, that's… Right, I'm surprised you actually looked to that." "It was in your file Mouse. You're expecting me just not to read it and hire you without knowing anything?" "N-no sir." I turned down the radio slightly, not wanting to be left alone in the silent room with myself and the captain. I reached up and grabbed two glasses to give us a drink as the captain looked at the photo more. "Why do you not have a gas mask in this photo? The brass operation was in a very dangerous area anyone who breathed in the gas there would be dead." I didn't look at him as I filled the glasses. "The… Doctors said that I was immune to the gas. Actually,-"

I paused, turned around, and walked over to where he sat down at my kitchen table. Setting a glass in front of him. "They said I was apparently immune to a lot of things. They thought at first it was just their machines malfunctioning but… When there was a breach and there are still men left in the bunker. I ran back to grab them. Gave the spare gas and mask and drag them out. The doctors quarantined me of course but after the designated time were normally a normal person would die. I was still unaffected and completely fine." Wesker said nothing as he said the photo back down. I shifted slightly in my seat as I sat down across from him. Captain Wesker's gaze remained fixed on the photo, his fingers gently tracing the edges of the frame. He seemed lost in thought for a moment before finally setting it back down on the table.

"I see," he replied, his voice calm and collected. "A rare case indeed, to possess such immunity. Your experience during Operation Brass must have been quite harrowing." I nodded, taking a sip from my glass, the cool liquid momentarily soothing the unease that had settled in my chest. "Yes, it was a challenging mission, but we managed to navigate through it successfully." The Captain's icy blue eyes locked with mine, a hint of curiosity and suspicion flickering within them.

"So, would you like to explain that stunt do you pulled at the office today?" The captain asked as I stare down at my glass of water. "I'm sorry sir I can't. I truly don't know why that happened, sir." Even with his dark sunglasses on, I could tell he was staring directly at me. His arms crossed over his chest as a moved back into the chair more. "Then, perhaps, you would be more willing to explain a little red origami bird be received." He asked as my fingers twitched around my glass. Wesker leans forward, his icy blue eyes piercing through his sunglasses, as if analyzing my every move.

"Nothing? I highly doubt that, Mouse."

He says, his voice carrying a mix of curiosity and suspicion. "I happen to be an expert at reading people, and your sudden change in behavior at the office, coupled with the appearance of the origami bird, suggests otherwise." I shift uncomfortably in my seat, my mind racing for a reasonable explanation. "It…It was nothing sir,-" I stammer, attempting to maintain a calm demeanor. "It was just a note left for me from my uncle. That's all sir." Wesker's gaze intensifies as he leans even closer, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper. "Is that so?" He says, his tone filled with skepticism. "You expect me to believe that a mere note from your uncle could cause such a reaction from you? Mouse." His words send a chill down my spine, and I feel my heart pounding in my chest. I know I can't reveal what was on the note. Don't trust Wesker. The words from the letter repeated in my head. I have to remain composed and find a way to deflect his suspicions. I take a deep breath and steady my nerves, meeting Wesker's gaze head-on.

"𝘐𝘧 𝘐 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘐 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘺 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧. 𝘐𝘧 𝘐 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘐 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘺 𝘮𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘺. 𝘔𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦."

"𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘐?"

"𝘕𝘰… 𝘯𝘰, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶."

"Captain, I assure you that the note was of a personal nature. It brought up some unexpected emotions, sir. I apologize for any disruption it may have caused."Wesker's eyes narrow slightly, his suspicion still lingering. "Is that so? Well, Mouse, I'd hate to think that anything personal would interfere with your performance as a member of this team. We have a mission to complete, and distractions can prove to be fatal." "I completely understand, Captain," I reply, my voice steady despite the unease I feel. "Rest assured, my personal matters will not affect my dedication to the mission. I will handle it on my own time and ensure that it does not interfere."

Wesker observes me for a moment longer before sitting back in his chair, his expression unreadable behind those dark sunglasses. "See that you do, Mouse. We've got a lot at stake here, and I trust that you won't let emotions cloud your judgment." I nod, a mix of relief and apprehension washing over me. I had managed to deflect his suspicions for now, but I knew I had to remain vigilant. Wesker was always one step ahead, and I couldn't afford any more slip-ups. "Thank you, Captain," I say, my voice calm and collected. "I appreciate your understanding." Wesker nods curtly, dismissing me with a wave of his hand. I gave him a nervous smile. "Thank you… For driving me him in the rain." Wesker sighed as he turned his head to look at me. "I don't see why you don't use your car Mouse." I chuckled nervously. "I… live close to RPD. Why drive when I can walk there?" "You would walk to work in the rain again?" Wesker asked with a slightly annoyed tone in his voice.

"That's not very practical. As the Captain, it's my responsibility to ensure the well-being of my team members. I expect you to prioritize your safety, regardless of the distance you need to travel." He pauses for a moment, his eyes shifting away, as if contemplating his next words. "From now on, I expect you to either take a car or request transportation if the weather conditions are unfavorable. I won't have any of my team members risking their well-being unnecessarily." His voice, although firm, carries a faint undertone of concern. I frown as I try to argue.

"𝘈𝘩… 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶? 𝘖𝘩 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘯𝘰𝘸. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘸 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘺, 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘶𝘵𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶."

"𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵, 𝘊𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘦."

"Captain- really it's no big-" Wesker holds up a hand, cutting off my protest. "No arguments, Mouse. Safety comes first. Consider it an order." His tone brooks no further discussion. I bite my lower lip, realizing that arguing further would only draw more attention to myself. "I understand….Captain. I appreciate your concern, and I'll comply with your order," I reply, my voice softening. Wesker's expression remains impassive, but I catch a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. He nods once, the corner of his lips twitching into a faint smile.

"𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦! 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵!"

"𝘊𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘦'𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘸!"

"Good," Wesker says, his voice low and smooth. "I'm glad we're in agreement, Mouse. Your safety is important to me." He leans back in his chair, seemingly satisfied with the outcome of our conversation. I feel a mix of relief and confusion. Wesker's concern for me feels unexpected, but I can't help but wonder if there's more to it. Is it just his duty as a captain, or is there something else driving his actions? As the thought crosses my mind, Wesker's icy blue eyes flicker slightly, as if he had read my thoughts. He adjusts his sunglasses, but his gaze remains fixed on me.

"If what happens today does repeat Mouse. I will have to look into it more." My smile fades for a second before forcing it back on. Attempting for it to look normal. "Honestly sir. It was really nothing." "You fainted in the middle of your work, Mouse. Could have received a concussion or worse I wouldn't put that as mildly anything." Wesker said. Almost in a scolding tone. I shivered before I looked back up at him. "I'll be more cautious in the future," I reply, my voice steady. Wesker remains silent for a moment, his piercing gaze never leaving mine. Finally, he offers a small nod of acknowledgment. "See that you do, Mouse. I expect nothing less from someone under my command." His voice carries a hint of authority, a reminder of the professional relationship between us. With that being said, he stood up for my kitchen table and walk towards my door. I quickly got up and followed him.

"I expect to see you at work tomorrow on time with your vehicle, Mouse." Wesker said

"𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘪𝘵. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘳. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦. 𝘐𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵, 𝘊𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘦. 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯. 𝘐𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦? 𝘐𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨?"

"𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦!"

"Of course, Captain Wesker," I say, my voice steady. "I'll be there on time, ready to fulfill my duties." He gives me a brief nod before turning to leave. As he walked away, I cay him pulling a phone out of his pocket and calling someone. I closed my door. Not wanted to eavesdrop but… A the same time wanting to. When Wesker got back into his car. He pull out a hidden phone and called some. In a lab, Birkin's attention was abruptly caught by the sound of his ringing phone, making him jolt in his seat. He hurriedly picked up the phone, his voice filled with a mixture of eagerness and anxiety. "Yes, Wesker?" He tried to sound professional, his mind racing with anticipation, desperately hoping that whatever Wesker had called him for would impress him.

" I found the one immune to the Operation Brass gas. It's one of my S.T.A.R.S members." Wesker said coldly on the phone to William.

As Wesker informed him about the discovery of an immune S.T.A.R.S member, his words lingered in Birkin's mind. One immune to Operation Brass… His heart skipped a beat. This could be a breakthrough in their research. "This is…remarkable news, Wesker! We must bring this individual in immediately for testing and analysis. It could provide us with invaluable data for our ongoing projects." He paused for a moment, his mind quickly formulating plans. "I'll prepare the necessary facilities and equipment for their arrival. Is there any further information or instructions?" "I'll be sending in a sample of her blood for you to test first. If it's true that there was truly someone immune to the gas. I'll keep an eye on her, make sure she remains within our control," Wesker continues, his voice calculated and precise. "She could be an asset, if things go according to plan."

Birkin's excitement was palpable as he listened to Wesker's instructions. An immune individual, and a potential asset? The possibilities were exhilarating. "Understood, Wesker. I'll begin analyzing the sample as soon as it arrives. And don't worry, I'll make sure the necessary precautions are taken to ensure her containment. After all, the success of our research relies on meticulous control." He paused for a moment, his mind racing with thoughts on the potential of this immune individual. "Once we've analyzed the sample and gathered more data, I believe it would be beneficial for us to reconvene and discuss our next steps. We should also remain cautious and discreet, as not to raise any suspicions or attract unnecessary attention." He added, trying to sound professional and composed, despite the excitement bubbling within him. Birkin could sense the eagerness in Wesker's tone as he replied, "Excellent, Birkin. I trust your expertise in handling this delicate matter. Let's keep this operation under the radar, shall we? We don't want anyone interfering before we can fully understand the potential of this immune individual." Birkin's mind raced with the possibilities and the implications of this discovery. His eyes darted around the lab, filled with the equipment and resources necessary for his research. He couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement mixed with a touch of nervous anticipation. "Of course, Wesker," Birkin responded, his voice filled with determination. "I'll make sure every precaution is taken. This could be a turning point for both Umbrella and our research. We will proceed with utmost care and precision." With those final words, Birkin hung up the phone, his mind already busy making preparations for the arrival of the immune individual and the impending analysis of the blood sample. The stakes were high, and everything had to be executed flawlessly to ensure the success of their plan. This was an opportunity they couldn't afford to waste.

"𝘔𝘢𝘮𝘢, 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴? 𝘋𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴?"

"𝘖𝘩 𝘔𝘺 𝘚𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘊𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥, 𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘐'𝘮 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘴. 𝘐𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘵. 𝘕𝘰𝘸, 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘰 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘣 𝘶𝘴 𝘢 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦?"

"𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘔𝘢𝘮𝘢?"

"𝘖𝘩 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘣 𝘶𝘴 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘸."

"𝘖𝘬𝘢𝘺 𝘔𝘰𝘮."

My mom is very beautiful, but she's also very sick. My mom has this beautiful long red hair she has such a gentle smile, and she loves me and papa with all her heart. Mama said papa's a scientist working on making the world safer. She said this is a business party to some extent. Whatever that means. Mama asked me to go grab some water for the table but I didn't see any more water in the water picture. I walk past the people talking to each other and grab the picture. I was just tall enough to grab it off the table and walk it back towards where the kitchen was. There are lots of people here talking to papa. There's this one older guy that looked at me a bit weirder. Pap said his name was Spencer. As soon as I saw he was done talking to Papa, he and a few other men left the building. I didn't really pay him any mind. I kept walking, mama why water, and I was going to go get some. I looked like to see a maid grabbing mama a chair. I was glad she was no longer standing. She tried to keep a brave act around me. But I know she's getting sicker. Papa tells me every time I see him I was getting sicker every day.

I found a maid in the kitchen and asked her to refill the water picture for mama. She smiled and says that she would do that right away and she went off to do that. She came back out with the water picture in hand it to me both hands. I took the water picture from her and started to walk back towards her mama was. I was hoping that papa was done talking to that weird man so we can come back and stand next to mama and me… But… As I walked towards the room, I heard this weird sound behind me. Like a weird gargling sound. A weird dead sound. I turned around to see a man standing in the shadows. I tilted my head as I watched. He didn't move, but the weird sounds are coming from him. I glanced back towards the kitchen where the maid was to see if she was following me. But it was just me and the man in the hallway. I look back towards the man and notice that he had taken a few steps closer to me. But his head was still in the shadows.

"𝘚𝘪𝘳? 𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰��� 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘵?"

I asked as more weird sounds came from the man. It was starting to scare me. I turned around about the yell for the maid to come here when I heard the man stumbling towards me. His arms stretched out towards me. His body rotting he grabbed me and pinned me to the ground. His mouth was wide open as he bit down on my arm. I screamed.

My eyes widened as I shot up from the couch. I quickly looked around to see where I was. Happily seeing that was back in my apartment. I was so sick of seeing that memory over and over in my head every time I close my eyes. I rubbed my right arm as I got up and walked over to the bathroom. Taking off my shirt and being just in my shorts and tank top. I could still see it. The bite mark on my right arm the man gave me is still there. But instead of a normal bite mark and now look like a bite mark but a scar as well. How could I ever explain the mark to anyone? I would get a tattoo to cover it but how would I explain the mark to the tattoo artists? I couldn't just say it was a mark that looked like a bite mark it 𝘸𝘢𝘴 a bite mark. Teeth indents and all.

I grumbled as I took a shower and got dressed in my work uniform. remembering Captain's Little Talk yesterday, I also make sure to grab my car keys as well. I wasn't happy about it but I didn't want to face the consequences of him finding out that I ignored his orders the day after he gave them to me about driving to work from now on. as I was rolling down my sleeves I was hesitant to cover up the market Band-Aids. but I decided against it. a long sleeve shirt should be enough and it wasn't I always had my jacket on hand as well. I finished making sure that I had everything ready to go as I walked over the stove and poured my tea into my thermos and took a small sip. I looked around the apartment to make sure everything was in order before I headed out…. before turning around, went back into the apartment, grabbed my car keys I left on the counter, and try again.

As I drove into the parking of the RPD. Chris saw me driving in there with a smirk on his face. "Well, well, well. Look who's actually using her car for once." He said I rolled my eyes. "Oh shush you." Chris chuckled. "I'm only teasing. No one drives a car better than you… aside from maybe Jill." "Right, I teased him. "Because you always crash the RPD car and the Captain gets mad at you." "Heh, you're not wrong." Chris laughed, putting his hand on my shoulder and guiding us into the RPD. "What do you say we take a break from the field and kick up our feet for a night? I'll get us some coffee. You look like you could use it."

I held up my thermos with a soft laugh. "Redfield, we JUST got to work and you're already asking for a break?" Chris's eyes lit up as he noticed the thermos, his smile growing wider. "Wow, that must be some real good coffee." He laughed. "What about me? I deserve a break too." He said with a mock pout. I laugh as I open the slide to my thermos. "Must be some good coffee." Chris said he's stared down in my thermos. I smirked as I took a sip of my tea "Yes Chris. This is some very good tea." Chris raised a brow. "Tea?" He asked, amused by her choice of beverage. He took a step closer to inspect the thermos, a sly grin creeping across his face. "Mind if I have a sip?" I smiled at him. "I do mine actually." "Ooh, tough. Not sure how you're gonna stop me." Chris chuckled as he stepped close, his expression playful as he reached for the thermos. "I promise I'll give it back after a sip." "Chris Redfield, if you take my drink, I will be telling Captain Wesker who had REALLY been doing you're reports." Chris groaned, his expression turning to one of mock frustration. I filled up the cap with some of the tea and handed it to him. "Fine, fine. I'm only gonna sip it, don't give me that look." He took a small sip from the cap and immediately let out a satisfied sigh. "Oh, jeez, you were right. That's some good tea." He handed me back the cap with a satisfied smirk. I laughed as we made out way to the S.T.A.R.S office. "I know. It's better than coffee for me." Chris gave me a knowing look before looking ahead. "That explains why you're always so lively and energetic. The tea helps keep you focused?" Chris shook his head slightly, the playful smirk still plastered on his face. "Man, I need to get into the tea game." "How about, handing in reports before they are due game?" I asked teasing him.

"I'll make a deal with you." Chris returned the playful smile, his expression softening as he locked eyes with hers. "I'll try to cut back on the coffee if you try to stay alert without your tea." Chris chuckled. "Who knows, you might even get to appreciate a good cup of joe." I smirked, shaking my head at his confidence. "Don't count on it. And this isn't you just pushing past the paperwork comment is it?" I said as he smiled down at me. "Hey, don't be so sure of yourself. Us coffee drinkers have our ways of getting people to switch over. An no, it's not." "Yeah, yeah." I snorted, rolling my eyes. "Just keep telling yourself that."

Wesker's eyes scanned the room. He was Chris and I enter the S.T.A.R.S office. A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he watches. Despite his imposing demeanor, there was a flicker crossing his face. The phone call with Birkin was still fresh in his mind. His is thoughts hidden behind his stoic expression. If she was immune to Operation Brass, he wondered just what else was she immune to.

Wesker observes Chris and Mouse enter the S.T.A.R.S office, their banter and camaraderie evident. His gaze lingers on Mouse, his usually icy blue eyes revealing something darker. He quickly glances away, reminding himself to maintain his composure. Pushing back his thoughts, Wesker stands up from his desk, adjusts his crisp uniform, and steps out of his office. He heads towards the main part of the S.T.A.R.S office, ready to assert his authority and keep a watchful eye on his team. "Redfield, Mouse, get your gear ready. We have an urgent mission briefing in the conference room." Wesker's voice cuts through the air, his commanding tone overriding any lingering sentiment. His gaze shifts briefly to Mouse, his expression turning slightly softer for a moment, before he resumes his professional facade.

I couldn't help but to glance back offer at Chris. "Must be something serious if you're already having a mission briefing in the conference room." Chris said as I nod my head slowly as I watch the captain walk back into his office. "I wonder what happen…?" I mumbled as Chris shrugged. We didn't waste any more time, the both of us went and put on our gear to get ready. as others came in we let them know what was going on and they started getting ready as well. Onecs was all set, we headed into the conference room for the debriefing. Wesker was there before any of us got in there. We all sat down on our spots. everyone was here and accounted. Wesker make sure of that before he began his briefing.

"We have a situation going on in the south side of Racoon City. A man by the name of Anton called in to alert us of a potential kidnap situation apparently a group of matter wanted to kidnap a staff member at the Umbrella Clinic over there. They are after a specific doctor and specific file." Everyone was nodding their heads in this today while my eyes widened as my thoughts were wild. that was my uncle's name, what was he planning on doing? "

"In one hour, we will be heading to the clinic to perform guard duty for a few days."

We all nods our heads as I was trying to stay calm. Just what exactly was he trying to do? I knew a lot about this thing and could be lying in his tip to us… What exactly were you planning, uncle?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 𝘖𝘴 𝘪𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪 𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘢𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘮, 𝘌𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢 𝘦𝘪𝘶𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘵𝘶𝘳 𝘪𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘶𝘮.

𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘴 𝘷𝘪𝘳 𝘲𝘶𝘪 𝘴𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘮, 𝘘𝘶𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘢𝘮 𝘤𝘶𝘮 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘴 𝘧𝘶𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘪𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘮 𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘦.

𝘒𝘺𝘳𝘪𝘦, 𝘧𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘴 𝘒𝘺𝘳𝘪𝘦, 𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘦, 𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘯

#albert wesker #yellow wrote #albert wesker x reader #wesker x reader #resident evil x you #wesker x you #reader insert #resident evil #wesker #residentevil1 #S.T.A.R.S #S.T.A.R.S Wesker #S.T.A.R.S Wesker x reader #S.T.A.R.S Wesker x you #-Hidden Immunity #chapter 5

[f1-giuki]

Well hello darling 👀

I saw your plea for escape from contract law, so here I come! *falls of the disk-horse like a drunk knight*

Red, White and Orange-Nassau buuuuut… make it switched!

For Want of a Nail: Charles as the prince and Max as the music genius 👀 the scene I shall leave up to you 🫶🌻

Hello darling!! Sorry if it took me a shit ton of time to answer but I’ve been away and I was overwhelmed by the amount of things I had to do sjsjsjs.

Yoongi’s third mixtape just came out, and the amygdala performance inspired me to write this thingy and the amount of lestappen content of both yesterday and this morning made me crazy eheheh, so here it is💖💖

If in Red, White & Orange-Nassau the roles were inverted Charles would be the perfect prince charming, very pretty, very media trained, without a political opinion, the middle man in everything, and Max would be a punk-rock singer, a bit of a mixture between Lewis Capaldi in sense of talent and sense of humour, and Joe Strummer. Max is against monarchies and he hates rich people who don't pay taxes, so Charles is his number one enemy. Charles doesn't have an opinion about Max, he just thinks he's a bit untidy, with his long hair and his vintage leather jacket, and sometimes he talks a lot of shit.

But back to the scene, it's the kiss scene:👀👀

[...]

As the DJ lets the beat drop Charles and Charlotte look at each other and laugh, he kisses her then, holding her waist gently and she cups his face gently with her slender fingers. They both smile in it and something starts gnawing up his stomach, something green and unpleasant. Jealousy. Max realises which feeling it is as he sees his feet carrying him away from the ballroom, wandering and getting lost in the Royal Palace of Monaco.

Charlotte starts laughing as their kiss ends. But she turns serious once she doesn't spot Max anymore in the room. She taps Charles’s shoulder. You can tell him, her glance says. Charles nods and he wiggles out of the crowd, trying to think where Max might have gone. He looks back at Charlotte in the middle of the dancefloor and she rolls her eyes and indicates the left. Charles raises a thumbs up to her and he starts walking towards Max. He knows that there is only one room that Max could have gone to that way. He reaches the top floor and hears the sound of a piano echoing in the empty hall.

Max is playing, beautifully, Clair de Lune by Debussy. The picture is idyllic, the room is dark, the giant crystal chandelier is turned off, but there is a bit of light peeking inside. There is a huge open window on a wall and the sea breeze is moving the soft white curtains. The Moon and the stars are out in the sky. A nice finishing touch if it were a painting. Charles grins and rests with a shoulder leaning on the door post, listening to Max. Maybe this is what being in the painting The Boulevard Montmartre at Night feels like. Charles doesn't say anything for the five minutes of the piece.

"Debussy, huh?" Charles asks.

Max looks at him with a gaze that Charles cannot describe differently from nostalgic. "Yeah, it helps me clear my mind," he answers quietly, blinking a few times to better see in the dark the man in front of him.

"Didn't take you for a classical piano guy, to be honest," Charles says with his nice accent. He seems both amused and endeared. Max wishes he wouldn't have to think about such things.

Max rolls his eyes and he moves a bit to the side on the piano chair, to make space for Charles. The Monegasque sits down and Max starts playing again, Charles can't take his eyes off Max's hands. Max can't stop think about their thighs touching. He clears his throat and looks at Charles. Wrong move. Max coughs a little bit more.

"Debussy is one of my favourite composers. He was an impressionist musician, he's, how can I explain this to you while I'm drunk... Oh! Think about Monet, think about Impression sunrise, the painting, the mellow and blurry and slightly numb feeling you get by looking at it. His music is that way, too. Instead of using the precision and clarity of the classical scales, Debussy preferred the ambiguity and vagary of the pentatonic and whole-tone scales, which is like, complicated shit, I don't have the mental capacity to explain it to you..." Max says, gesticulating like a madman as Charles looks at him with a dopey smile. He should stop, that's what Max is thinking about.

"May I?" Charles asks and Max nods.

The Dutchman watches as Charles puts his hands on the piano. They feel awfully at ease, in a position Max strangely recognise, relaxed and tangerine shaped. "That's C major, everything starts from it," Max says and Charles grins and starts playing a tune that is much too familiar to Max. It's Reverie by Debussy and Max's brain goes haywire. He can't understand anything anymore, Charles is there, next to him, their arms brushing as the Monegasque plays the piano so softly. Max has to focus on the notes to be sure that he isn't dreaming the whole thing.

Max keeps his mouth shut in religious silence. Everything is Charles, his hands, delicate and with a royal ring on them, travelling on the keyboard of the beautiful piano forte. Those are the hands of a pianist, a tormented one, one that Max would like to know, maybe write a song with. Hands he would like to hold and turn warm when they're cold. He doesn't understand what has changed. Confusion is still present in him mind, with a flowery warmth.

When Charles stops playing his eyes are spanking. He lowers his hand and the knuckles brush against the back of Max's hand at their sides. Max looks at Charles’s face in profile, gaze running down his features touched by a ray of moonlight. Max's cheeks feel too, it's something as intoxicating as the liquor he drank, but it's not liquor, it's more dangerous. The Palace is awfully quiet, the party seems like a distant memory, Monaco is not the centre of the world anymore. Max feels silly to admit it, but his world just ended up in that empty room with white clothes over expensive furniture.

Charles keeps looking at him, holding his gaze, softening his smile.

“I really like Debussy too, he's true to his feelings. I am usually numb to most things, but he makes me feel emotions I thought I buried deep somewhere...” he says, his accent peaking out more prominently.

Max nods and looks at their hands, they are next to each other, Charles's pinky on the C major note, Max's pinky on the B right behind it.

"He's not the only one who makes me feel things..." Charles whispers as he moves his finger imperceptibly and Max decides to do something stupid. The angles of his mouth quirk up and he caresses Charles’s finger. A spark.

“I'm going to do something very stupid, is it okay?” Max asks.

"Mhm..." Charles murmurs and he turns his head close to Max's.

Wow, those are a pair of green eyes, like the forests in Belgium.

It is all very anticlimactic. Max's heartbeat feels heavy in his eardrums, but as their lips touch everything stops. The only thing left is the ringing in his ear, but it stops too as Charles’s slender pianist hands adorn his face like a crown jewel. Max feels like the most stupid idiot on Earth. Of course Charles had to be a pianist, a romantic who loves impressionism. If their lips weren't tangling Max would beg him on his knees to play Chopin. He would gladly cry and kiss him some more. Charles moves one of his hands on the juncture of Max's neck and his brain shuts down.

The kiss is like watching the Abduction of Proserpina, with hands gripping the poetic soft flesh, conflicting feelings, standing in astonished awe. Max likes it. So he lets himself taste Charles’s lips, sweeter than honey and intoxicating as red wine. He leans into the kiss and Charles’s mouth opens, welcoming his tongue. It is something so trivial but Max swears he has never experienced such a deed or posed his hands on such a wonderful pair of hips. Charles’s thumb gently stroking his cheek, and that turns too much for Max, he can't hold himself in composure anymore, he moans in Charles’s mouth, with no intention of stopping.

But something happens in Charles’s brain, though, and Max can't feel his hands on him anymore. The Monegasque releases him. He looks Max in the eyes, green and sparkly, with a hint of gold. Max can't find an answer in that brief glimpse he catches, not in his current state. He hears Charles say a quick French curse and, differently from the kiss, Charles runs away quickly, before Max can even steady himself on the piano stool. He rests his head on the piano, a cacophony of notes play as he touches his lips with shaky fingers.

“Shit!”

-

Hope you like this babes!!! Thank you for saving me from fucking contract law i hate that shit💖

#lestappen #charles leclerc fanfic #max verstappen fanfic #lestappen fanfic #red white and Orange-Nassau #a bit of lestappen content before the sprint thing #lestappen blurb

[ffsg0jo]

also gojo's internet famous but not because of his looks or anything. it's because he's does asmr food reviews. he mainly films himself eating desserts from small, local businesses, but occasionally, he does some street stalls and food chains too. his comments mainly consist of 'it's all yours dawg it ain't going anywhere' and he's been dubbed 'the throat goat'.

there's one clip of his that went viral where he's filming a video in his classroom whilst he's supposed to be teaching. it's not even him that goes viral, it's megumi who's in the background getting pestered by nobara and yuuji and it just gets progressively worse and worse until megumi snaps and the video ends with him making fists and screaming "with this treasure i summon".

gojo's eyes widen, and he picks up his phone, mouth full of food, and starts running whilst trying to end the video.

#🌻.lija speaks #im so tired. ut i cant sleep #ugh #thinking about gojo #its an illness atp #anyways #idek if this made sense tbh #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #megumi fushiguro #yuuji itadori #nobara kugisaki #🌻.light breeze

[ghost-cherry-blossom]

Appleblossom Week 2024 🌸🍎

Day Seven — Spring 🌱🌷🪻🌹🌻🌼☘️

Slavic Au by Wiki_Chan_44 (Twitter)

@appleblossomweek

I remember that day, so clear and bright

When fate took my hand and led me to light

In a world where time seemed to briefly pause

I met her, and everything had a cause

It was a morning bathed in golden hue

The sky, an endless blue

I walked a path I’d traveled before

Not knowing my life would change much more

There at the park, sitting near the wisteria tree, a glimpse I caught

A small that warmed every wandering thought

Her eyes, like stars, held stories untold

A mystery of beauty, pure and bold

Slowly, with everyone step, my heartbeat fast

A rhythm unknown, a spell she cast

I stood before her; my words seemed to have fade

In that moment, a lifetime was made

She spoke with a voice like a gentle breeze

Soft and melodious, putting my heart at ease

Her voice echoing in my soul, a perfect harmony

We talked of dreams, places afar

Underneath the morning star

Each word felt like a thread, weaving our fate

A tapestry of the beginning of our love story, intricate and great

For once in my life, that day I had hope

From that moment on, hand in hand

Together we ventured our journey through life, together we’d stand.

Year have passed, and still, I see

The magic of that day lives within me

For in her eyes, I found my home

A love that grows, wherever we roam

Through the ups and downs of life

She stood by side, sharing her light

My endless joy, my darling wife

I will love you till the end of time.

#welcome home #welcome home puppet show #welcome home arg #welcome home wally #welcome home julie #welcome home au #wally au #wally darling #julie joyful #julie x wally #wally x julie #apple blossom #apple pie #appleblossomweek

[hanniejji]

Pffttt

Imagine, little!MC sees Scaramouche Wanderer? Kunikuzushi? as an anemo vision holder for the first time and when they realize he can’t do cool zappy lightning tricks anymore they start crying because they loved how he could set things on fire and do cool tricks like making their hair stand up with static. Kuni sighs knowing it’s going to take a while for them to adjust. Once they calm down he’ll show them he can use the wind to make them hover above the ground or dry off quicker after bath times. He totally didn’t ask Kazuha for cool tricks he uses to entertain Lil’ Maple

-🌻

LITTLE GREMLIN LOVES THE THUNDER SHOWS SCARA SUBCONSCIOUSLY DOES WHEN HE'S MADGE, LIKE HE COULD BE KILLING SOMEONE BUT THEY'D JUST WATCH WITH AWE BECAUSE OF THE ELECTRO EFFECTS LMAO

"no more... light shows?" they wouldn't outright cry because they think scara would hate them if they do he wouldn't hate little gremlin for the life of him though so they'd just... sulk in the corner, act a little distant because "i want light shows..." :<

BUT EVENTUALLY IT'LL BE FINE BECAUSE SCARA WOULD START RANDOMLY LIFTING THEM UP THE AIR AND SENDING COLD BREEZE AT THEIR WAY 🥺 they'll start to love the miniature tornadoes he makes and watches the leaves get caught they almost reached out their hand towards it and scara, despite having no heart, experienced a heart attack from fear BECAUSE THOSE WINDBLADES ARE SHARP OK

#asks #nonnie #🌻.hive #gremlin.ask

[indecisive-dizzy]

Accenting the Fae

~1.6k words

A zero context thing I wrote for a Fairy!Eddie Au I came up with,,, yesterday? Recently. Enjoy! Or don't!

🍃🌼🌷🌻🪻🌺🍃🌼🌷🌻🪻🌺🍃🌼🌷🌻🪻🌺🍃

White Pines towered overhead, shading the ground cover beneath. The overgrown vines and leaves made traversal difficult for Grace. Luckily what she was looking for would be on the ground, so keeping her head low had some benefits at least.

Although, thinking about it now, Grace doubted it would be covered up by all these vines. Weren't they usually out in the open? Like in a-

A clearing. Like the one right in front her. The brush ended suddenly and Grace looked up to see a wide, sunlit patch surrounded by trees and thicket. It was radiant, the open sky above shone onto bright grass and wildflowers reflecting the light from the morning dew. In the center of it all there was a circle of red and purple mushrooms. It was gorgeous, but it's fantastical beauty put Grace on edge. She had found it.

Grace hesitated. Could this really work? Was coming out here a mistake? What if she messed up and bit off more than she could chew? What if nothing happened at all and she skipped school for nothing? It was too late now, Grace reasoned to herself, she'd been walking for hours to find this. It had to work. She walked into the clearing, standing under the sun.

With one more deep breath, Grace stepped into the circle. The ground under her boots felt the same as the ground outside the ring, soft and unassuming. After a moment of nothing she turned and nearly stepped out but as soon as she lifted her foot she felt a tug.

The breeze picked up, Grace watched the blades of grass sway and leaves swirl around the clearing. Then all at once, it stopped. She felt a presence behind her, one that left a tingling sensation in her mind. She didn't move, unsure if she should dare to do so.

"Hello?" A gentle, deep voice rang behind the teenage girl, "I can't talk to you when your back is turned." The presence laughed gently, airily without a care.

Grace turned around. Be respectful, be polite, use those Southern manners.

"Sorry, The wind distracted me," It wasn't a lie, she was temporarily mesmerized by the display.

Now that Grace was facing the source of the voice she could get a good look at him. The Faerie standing with her had curly red hair that looked cloud soft. Orange felt with a yellow triangular nose surrounded by light freckles. His bright violet eyes were lidded in a gentle, calming demeanor, his eyelids themselves were only a few shades lighter. Full, long lashes completed the beautiful draw to his eyes. But Grace knew not to stare.

He tilted his head and smiled almost sheepishly, "Oh that's alright. I can get distracted by little things too."

Grace nodded, unsure of what to say. Or where to begin. Luckily, the Fae seemed to understand that struggle as well.

"May I help you?" He continued, "You seem to want something, am I correct?"

"You may help me," Grace chose her words carefully, "I don't need somethin’ from ya, I actually would like ya to take somethin’ specific." Here it comes. Mentally, she crossed her fingers.

"Is that so? What would you like me to take, sweetheart?" The endearment dripped with a saccharine sweetness, it was impossible to tell if it's artificial or not.

"I would like for you, Fae, to take my accent," Grace's voice quivered as she finally made her request. She begs to whatever may be above that he responds well.

The Fae looked confused and stayed quiet. Seeming to think it over.

As Grace waited in nauseating anticipation, she couldn’t help but think back to why she was doing this. Life was fine back in Texas. She had friends, close family, and everyone talked the same talk. But since her parents dragged her upstate, she's been miserable. The mockery, insults, and bullying was too much to bare. And it wall all over her voice, her accent, and where she came from. Her parents did nothing, the teachers did nothing. Hell, her English teacher was constantly correcting her pronunciation every other word. She hated it. She hated her heavy accent and the trouble that came with it.

"Why should I take your accent? What can I do with it?" The Fae broke the quiet, startling the other in the circle. His soft cadence never changed, but a lilt of confusion was clear.

Grace thought for a moment, she didn't quite think of that. She had assumed it would be like giving him her name or voice. He would just take it to have it.

"Well, ya could use it yourself, if ya like. Or maybe give it to someone else?" That made sense, at least to Grace, but she couldn't be too confident.

"I suppose you're right, child," The Fae hummed, "I do like the sound of your accent, and I may use it. But tell me, why do you want to part with it?"

"I want to give ya my accent because I don't like it. I am thankful you do, it’s all the more reason to give it away." Even if she thought it was, Grace tried not to make her accent seem worthless.

The Fae thought over the girl's answer, a sad look crossing his face.

"You poor thing," The Faerie sighed, "I will take your accent but I would like to give you something in return. Is there anything you want?"

"Thank you. And Yes, I would like to leave the forest safely, please, so I can get home." Grace didn't want anything, honestly, but knew it was best to take the trade. He was kind enough to offer and it would be rude to refuse. Also, she really didn’t want to go through all those roots and vines again.

The Fae nodded, curls bouncing gently with the motion, "Of course. You will return home safely, and in return I get your accent."

There was a tightness in Grace's throat that left her unable to speak. The Fae in front her motioned her closer, cupping her face once in reach. He studied her, turning her chin up as though to get a good look of her neck. Another bounce of red curls told Grace he nodded again, for what reason, she had no clue. The constriction in her throat was uncomfortable yet she was somehow able to breathe just fine. He titled her head back down and patted her cheeks. After doing so the feeling vanished and she swallowed.

"How's that?" The Fae asked, with a new rich tone accompanying that of a typical Texan accent. He did it.

Grace could only stare upon hearing his voice. Quickly, when his brows furrowed, she remembered to speak.

"It's," Grace paused stunned once more hearing herself, "Different. Thank you." Her shoulders dropped in relief, she can't believe it worked.

"You're welcome," The Faerie smiled, "Now get yourself home, darlin'. You're supposed to be in school."

"Yes, of course. Goodbye," Grace ended the interaction, ready to leave the nerve wracking moment behind.

She took one step backwards, but was stopped by his voice.

"Darn it, I almost forgot somethin'." The Fae pointed at her, like a scolding parent, "You, missy, should never do this again."

"Wha-"

"No," He interrupted, "What you did was reckless, had any other Folk shown up you'd be left with nothin' but that pretty head of hair. You're lucky I ain't so particular 'bout these sorts of things."

The Fae sighed, his expression returning to that sad look from earlier. "I'll give ya some credit, ya did some things right, but it wasn't perfect. And that imperfection is what gets ya into trouble."

Grace nodded, it was all she do. She was more or less fully shell shocked by now. This Fae, of all creatures, was scolding her behavior just like her mother would.

The Faerie nodded in return, taking a step back himself. The wind picked up once more, slower this time.

His eyes grew dark, "Don't. Do it again." The Fae waved her off with a stern, but polite, goodbye, shooing her outside the circle.

Grace stumbled backwards out, the wind kicked into gear the second her foot landed. She closed her eyes as her hair blew in her face, the wind was much stronger outside the ring than she thought.

Then it stopped. Grace's hair fell in her face, now a complete mess. She opened her eyes to... nothing. The fairy ring was gone, with no evidence of it ever having been there at all. The whole thing felt surreal. Had it even happened? Grace spoke the question aloud to find her answer.

A perfect, upstate accent fell from Grace's lips. It only just occurred to her she never said what accent she wanted instead. She could've gotten something worse, but she guessed it had been the doing of the Fae that was kind enough to give her this one.

Grace took one last look towards the sky, it was clearer than it had been before. Not a cloud in sight. She breathed a deep sigh of relief, glad for it to all be over.

Turning around, Grace started her venture home. Along the way she found a trail that led her safely out to the edge of the forest where she had entered. A trail that definitely hadn’t been there before. Mentally, she thanked the kind Fae one more time.

Grace really didn't like that expression he made before leaving. She didn't know him, but that serious, almost threatening demeanor didn't suit his eyes. She didn't want to know what would happen if she went against the Fae’s wishes, and she didn't want to find out either.

She's never going near a Fairy Ring again, that was for sure.

#whats this? me writing at 1am? #This whole thing is my way of explaining why eddie has his accent in this au btw #bc to me just. a fae that sounds like he's from texas for no reason is weird lol #PLEASE ignore any mistake typos etc #i should not be awake rn <3 #but i was having fun sigh #dizzcanwrite #welcome home #eddie dear #welcome home au #fairy eddie au #the. the longer i look at this the more i hate it #burn it burn it #Im going to sleep <3 #... ya know what im queuing this #dizzying queue

[stephlastname]

All for the ask game plsssss

Yussss thank you dear

personal

👁 eye colour

Light blue with grey

🇪🇺 nationality

Dutch

🏳️‍🌈 sexuality

Panromantic polyamorous greyromantic demisexual

🏳️‍⚧️ gender identity

Transgender man

🛐 religion

I'm not sure what to call it, I do believe in something/someway

faves

☕️ hot drink

I think latte macchiato or hot chocolate

🧃 cold drink

Iced caramel coffee and ginseng honey iced tea

🍜 dish

Spaghetti carbonara, lasagna or my nephew's homemade split pea soup

🍉 fruit

Honeydew and lychee

🥦 veggie

Bell pepper if you consider it a veggie. Otherwise corn

🏐 sport

Badminton

🐈‍⬛ animal

Probably birds and squirrels and any geckos/lizards

🌻 flower

None

🌦 weather

Warm sun with a constant breeze

🌍 place

At the moment Curaçao

🚙 means of transport

Bus and train

fandom faves

😇 blorbo

I had to look up what a blorbo is and I still don't understand

😈 meow meow

Ditto for above

👥️ otp

Alphyne and Rayllum

📺 tv show

Pfff. I can't pick an all time favourite so I'll put some here out of order: doctor who, spop, tdp, teen wolf, merlin, atla and tlok

🎬 movie

Red dog (no not the one about the big dog). Probably another one as well that I forgot the name of lmfao

📚 book

How hard can love be?

🎶 musical artist

Same as with tv shows: f+tm, queen, abba, smash into pieces, elvis presley, doe maar, nielson, di-rect

🎉 holiday

Eesh. Probably sinterklaas?

🎲 game

Boardgames? Monopoly, risk and kolonisten van katan

[vexic929]

👁🍉 🎉🌻🌦😈🎬🎶 🍉

👁 eye colour: dark brown/black

🍉 fruit: starfruit or dragonfruit

🎉 holiday: I like any chance to celebrate <3333

🌻 flower: monkey face orchid!!!

🌦 weather: 70 and sunny with a light breeze and some clouds :)

😈 meow meow: eobard thawne, pathetic wet cat of a man

🎬 movie: at the moment, still The Barbie Movie lol

🎶 musical artist: Icon for Hire

#negative-speedforce #negative speedforce #vexic answers #vexic lives #ask game