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gimmeurtmi · 2 months

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not yet — bang chan

pairing: bang chan x fem!reader

tags: established relationship, dom/sub dynamics, smut!🔞

warnings: swearing, dom/sub dynamics, reader wears makeup, guided masturbation, fingering (self receiving), slight restraints, use of “baby”, “pretty,”, edging, undisclosed protection but please use it!!, descriptions of subspace, aftercare <3

inspo: commissioned by @staysinbloom thank you so much lovie and i hope you enjoy this!!! <3333

notes: as always feedback and reblogs are appreciated <3

{ wc: 3204 }

“Are you ready yet?” Chan poked his head into your room, a small smile on his face.

He was taking you out for dinner at your favourite restaurant, to celebrate your new promotion at work. You’ve been waiting for it for weeks, considering Chan was on the road when the news about your promotion came, and now the day was finally here. You took an extra long shower, exfoliating and putting on a hair mask and making yourself feel as good as possible in your skin. You knew Chan wouldn’t mind it either way, he kept saying you didn’t need to go above and beyond for him, that he liked being with you even when you were too tired to brush your hair, but he also knew you enjoyed your self care routine a lot–and so he gave you adequate time to get ready without rushing.

You still had an hour until Chan wanted to leave, you realised when you checked your phone, so you knew his question was more because he wanted attention rather than you falling behind on time.

“Not yet, I still need to do my eyeshadow,” you let him know. Chan hummed, entering the room and sitting on the bed behind your vanity.

“Can I watch?” He asked excitedly. You giggled, nodding as you got back to the task at hand–Chan’s curious eyes following your every move.

He happily watched, letting out impressed noises as he watched your makeup progress and take form, but otherwise there was relative silence in your room. You enjoyed it when you and Chan fell into a comfortable silence—it made everything feel domestic. Like it was you and him for some time, like it’ll be you and him for a while still. You liked the thought of that.

Once you were almost finished, nothing left to apply but your lipstick, Chan got up from his crossed legged position on the bed and placed his hands on your shoulders.

You hummed in a small question, meeting his eyes through the mirror.

In response, Chan placed a small kiss on the back of your neck before proceeding to make more exaggerated kissing noises. You laughed loudly.

“I don’t wanna ruin anything you’ve done,” he says with an endeared smile once you turn around to face him, lips puckered.

He places a small kiss on your lips, sweet and far too short, and so you kiss him three more time to make up for it. Chan smiles fondly when he pulls away, tucking a few stray hairs away from your forehead.

“You look incredible,” he says in a whisper.

“Channie,” you whine, “I’m not even dressed or anything!”

“Neither am I!” He says with a chuckle, before pecking your lips twice more and announcing he’s going to go get ready now.

You turn back around to finish everything you need to do as well.

—

Chan is the perfect gentleman. You know that, you’ve always known that, but you’re never opposed to being reminded of that. He opens your door to the car once you get there, he opens the door to the car when you head back home, too.

He helps you pick the best looking meal on the menu and when your eyes look at his plate a little too long he decides you two should just share his (you end up sharing both dishes and then dessert, too).

The dinner was delicious and the atmosphere was wonderful and when you found a great big mirror in the foyer of the restaurant Chan didn’t hesitate before posing in front of it when you sweetly asked for some mirror selfies with him.

You looked like a couple out of a movie, all dressed up and in love—and it wasn’t long before those pictures made it to your new lockscreen.

Once you arrived home, you softly kiss Chan’s lips—too determined to do so you don’t even make it past the entrance.

“Thank you for tonight, Channie,” you say softly before planting another kiss to his full lips.

“Don’t thank me,” he shys away slightly, before accepting a third kiss. “It’s all to celebrate you. You deserve everything.”

It’s your turn to be shy, and you tuck your face into Chan’s neck with a small whine.

Chan chuckles happily, bringing a hand to your back as he softly rubs up and down. He places a small kiss to the side of your face, before he mumbles, “I truly am so proud of you. My hardworking baby.”

You let out a scoff, before nuzzling closer into his warmth. You bring a hand to his arm, fingers circling around his strong bicep.

“I know it’s sometimes hard without me,” he hums, “but you do so well.”

You chuckle.

“Thank you,” you try your best to accept it. “I do my best even when you aren’t here, because I know you’ll always come back.”

Chan brings two fingers to your chin, lifting your head up to meet his eyes. Your insides turn warmer, comforted by his embrace and his soft gaze on you. With a smile, his dimples come out on display and you can’t help but grin at your beautiful boyfriend.

“I’m here for a while now,” he promises, “you won’t have to do anything alone.”

“Like the dishes,” you start teasing, “and the shopping, and the cleaning,”

Chan rolls his eyes, and you—emboldened by his dimples, say, “and I won’t have to touch myself anymore.”

“Why?” Chan asks, head titled to the side slightly, “you don’t like touching yourself?”

“Uh,” you feel a small blush creep up your ears, “I-I do, just not the same when you do it.”

“Why not?” He asks, his finger running up and down your back slowly, making its way around your neck and up towards your hairline.

“It’s not as fun cumming when you aren’t telling me to,” you confess.

Chan’s eyebrows lift lightly before he’s chuckling, rubbing your scalp softly.

“So you need someone to tell you when to cum?” His voice deepens.

“Not someone,” you insist, “you.”

“Right answer,” Chan declares, and laces his fingers with yours. He kisses the back of your hand, delicately, as his eyes search yours. After a few moments he smiles up at you and drags you towards your shared bedroom.

Once inside he turns to you with determination, before grabbing your face with both hands and pulling your lips towards him. Chan is eager, tongue already pushing through your lips and licking into your mouth.

You hold back your moans as much as you can until you feel his hands on your hips, moving you around, guiding you towards the bed.

“Baby,” he whispers against yours lips, tugging on your clothes lightly. You quickly get rid of your layers before tugging on Chan’s button up shirt. You open one button, then another, and then when you reach the hem of his pants he stops you.

You look up at him, eyes wide as his hand holds both your wrists in place.

“I let you open it so you could see my body you like so much,” you nod quickly in confirmation, “but this isn’t about me now.”

“Channie, I—“

“—I want you to show me what you do when I’m not here,”

You blush deeply, feeling it all the way to your chest. You avert your gaze away from Chan, which is hard—considering the absolute sight that he is—and try and hide yourself. You can’t hide too much, with Chan still easily holding your wrists together in one hand. The other hand is used to softly cup your jaw, making you look right at his piercing brown eyes.

“It’s not that interesting, though,” you mumble, your eyes focused solely on the skin peaking out of Chan’s open dress shirt, his collarbone sharp and oh so kissable.

“Look at me,” he says softly. Your eyes jump upwards. “You just need to show me, okay? Let’s start there.”

You nod.

Chan slowly lets go of your wrists and gently pushes you against the pillows. Instantly, you find yourself spreading your legs, letting each knee fall to the side as you feel Chan’s eyes all over you. You don’t feel shy anymore, with his loving eyes admiring you the way they do. You feel safe as he runs his hands up and down your thighs, keeping them spread.

Your stomach flips for a second when he says, “start.”

You bring your fingers towards your pussy, starting slowly as you run a hand up and down your folds to start off.

“That’s a good start,” Chan says with a nod, “spread your wetness around first.”

You find yourself nodding along, eager to fulfil Chan’s request.

“Sometimes,” you bravely start, feeling the shyness taking over again, but you push through. “I play with my tits a little, to get myself wet.”

“Show me,” he smiles, squeezing your thighs for a moment before getting back to rubbing up and down the skin.

You bring your free hand to your chest, kneading softly before you roll your nipple between your fingers.

Chan tsks, shaking his head. “Not like that,” he says, face serious.

You're reminded of a time you were watching him practice with the others, and he stopped everything just to correct one of the boys’ mistake. You're reminded of how they all froze in fear when he said stop, how they all listen to his every word. You're reminded of just how much power Chan has over others, over his members, and over you. You feel electricity run through your body at the thought.

“Then how?” You ask, voice weak as it cracks.

“Take your thumb,” you nod, “and rub it slowly over your nipple. You like that more.”

He wasn’t saying you might like it more; it wasn’t a suggestion. Chan was telling you what you like and how to do it, and your pussy clenched around nothing at his words.

You followed his orders—and obviously he was right, and you let your head fall into the pillows as you breathed out an airy moan.

“That feels good, right?” You nod, halting the movement of your fingers as soon as your reach your clit. You stay there, applying light pressure and biting your lip.

You’ve been with Chan for however long now, and still, you don’t think you’ve ever touched yourself like this in front of him—certainly not under such scrutiny.

The realisation spurred you on, your fingers moving faster and faster against your clit.

“Just like that,” he says softly, voice slightly rough as he leans down to kiss the skin by your knee.

You dip a finger inside yourself, slowly, but Chan lifts up his hand. You freeze.

“Did I tell you to do that?” He asks, eyebrows scrunched together in faux confusion. It looks more like anger, and you feel yourself getting even wetter under his gaze.

“N-no,” you let out in a small voice.

“So?” He prompts.

“Channie, can I fuck myself on my fingers like I usually do when you’re not here?”

He chuckled loudly. “Not so shy anymore, huh?”

You shake your head, blinking up at him.

“Good,” he hums, “but only one finger for now. Okay?”

“Yeah, yes,” you happily nod, before sliding your finger further inside your pussy.

Chan moves around a little, settling himself on his stomach so his face is right in front of your exposed cunt. You’d usually get far too shy about all of this, but the want inside you is too intense to care about any of that. You keep moving your fingers, in and out, a loud wet sound following your movements.

“Sounds so good,” he whispers, reaching out a hand to touch. You want him to, need it so desperately, but his hand never reaches you.

“Channie,” you breath out, “want your fingers instead.”

He shakes his head as he clicks his tongue, “not yet.”

“Please,” you whine, moving your finger faster, “need more.”

“Add another finger,” he orders, and you quickly obey, even though that wasn’t what you asked for.

The stretch feels nice, so nice, you let your eyes flutter shut as you let the feeling take over your body.

“Feels good?” He asks, and kisses your thigh softly. Your whole body sets on fire from his touch, and you open your eyes just to whine loudly at him.

“More, please,” you beg, shamelessly.

“Another finger?” He says it as a question, but you still obey regardless.

With three fingers it’s harder to move your hand quickly, the stretch on the side of too tight, but you try as hard as you can. Because Chan told you to.

“Channie, want you,” you whimper.

“Not yet,” is all he answers.

He tells you to move faster, and so you do, and soon you can feel the telltale sign of an orgasm. It’s so close, even Chan can see it, and when your breath becomes ragged and quick he grabs your wrist again—halting your movements.

“What? What?” You let out, eyes wide and jaw gapped.

“Not yet,” he smiles, and asks you to slowly take your fingers out.

You do, without question or hesitation, and try your best to hide your disappointment. It doesn’t work too well, though.

“My beautiful baby,” he coos, kissing your cheek, “you wanted to cum?”

“Y-yeah, I was so close,” you pout at him.

Chan softly kisses your cheek, once then twice, before nuzzling his face into your neck.

“Can I feel how wet you are?” He asks softly. You nod. “With my cock?”

You moan, grabbing onto Chan’s shoulders as you breath out a string of incoherent pleas. He quickly strips himself—and you want to reach out and touch all over his body, but you stop yourself. Chan said this was about you and you should listen to him.

He grabs himself at the base, already fully hard just from watching you, and nudges the head into your entrance.

Chan raises a small eyebrow in question, and you nod quickly as you beg out a small, “more, want you deep.”

Chan pushes inside just like you’ve asked and before he can even settle and give you time to get used to the deep stretch of his cock you’re already squeezing at his shoulders.

“Channie, please, please move, I need it,” you start mumbling.

Chan kisses your forehead softly, as his warm hand cups your jaw. His fingers rub against your cheek, soft and comforting, before he starts fucking into you—hard and quick.

You aren’t sure what you’re saying, your mouth hanging open and Chan punching noises out of your chest as the pleasure takes over your thighs and your stomach and your cunt. It feels so good and Chan is asking you something but you don’t hear it until the second time he asks.

“Close?”

“Yes, yes, yes, so close I just need—“ you reach your hand towards your clit, but it’s once again trapped in Chan’s hold, and soon he pulls out entirely.

The pleasure leaves your body just as quick as it started, and your walls clench pathetically over the emptiness inside you while your clit throbs. There’s a fog taking over your brain; and with Chan holding you, you let yourself slip deeper into it.

“Why Channie?” you whine, shaking your head from side to side.

Chan kisses your wrist sweetly before letting it go, watching proudly as you pull your fingers away from your body and place them by your side.

“Not yet,” he kisses your lips.

Chan keeps going, again and again and again, pulling out as soon as you start begging to cum—enjoying the way you sob dryly at his treatment.

It’s when your eyes glaze over and your voice turns too soft for Chan to hear that he rubs your stomach softly.

“Six edges is really impressive, pretty,” he kisses your lips, “how are you feeling?”

You hum. “It feels so good.”

Chan smiles, kissing you again when you pucker your lips out silently. “I know.”

“Please don’t say not yet again,” you open your eyes, only now realising they’ve been closed. You aren’t sure for how long, but you blink the darkness away and look up at Chan. “Please let me cum now.”

Chan nods.

“Really? Really?” You grab onto his arms. “Please, please can I? Please?”

“Yes, baby, now you can.”

“Oh my god, oh my god, Channie, please,” you grab at his hips, pulling him closer to you with as much force as you can muster.

He chuckles before sliding all the way back inside you again. He’s edged you on his cock for however long, and so the stretch is nice and familiar by now—your cunt sucking him in desperately.

You clench around him as hard as you can, enjoying the way the fullness feels between your legs and all the way up into your stomach.

Chan holds your hips for leverage as he fucks into you once, twice. thumb rubbing against your hip bone, four, and then—

“Chan, Chan, Chan, I’m gonna, please, I can’t, I’m sooo close,”

“Cum, my pretty, cum on my cock.”

Your whole body shakes with it as your orgasm crashes into you after all the times Chan’s denied you, your toes curling and your stomach clenching and your veins glowing with it. Your vision turns black and your moans get caught in your throat and you feel even your jaw shaking.

It’s a few moments later, as you’re still basking in the afterglow, that Chan kisses your shoulder in a series of slow pecks as he mumbles out praises and, “I got you, baby, did so well. I’m here, I got you.”

Once you blink up at him with a pleased smile on your face, he leans down to kiss your lips. Even if you’re too tired to reciprocate much, you try.

“I’m gonna get something to clean with, alright?”

You nod, but pull Chan in for a slightly sweaty hug.

“You’re gonna need to let go,” he sing songs in your ear.

“Not yet,” you sing song back.

Chan laughs heartily at that, his laugh high pitched and disappearing at the edges—and it’s so contagious.

After the pair of you calm down, Chan eventually leaves to get you a washcloth and some food.

You drink the water he gives you, and eat the fruit, and he helps you clean yourself.

“Do you need anything else?” He asks once he takes away the empty bottle from you, rubbing your arm soothingly.

“My makeup,” you say, although you’re sure your massacre is already smudged on half your face by now and the foundation on your chin has probably disappeared.

Chan retrieves your makeup remover from the bathroom and your night cream, already applying some of the product on a cotton pad.

You reach out for it but Chan is faster, and grabs your chin while he gently removes the makeup. You hum happily, allowing Chan to spoil you.

“I love you, Channie,” you say as he starts applying the moisturiser onto your skin.

You giggle at his slightly surprised expression, before he leans in to kiss you. “I love you, too.”

You fall asleep in each other’s arms, satisfied and happy and safe.

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cupcakeinat0r · 16 days

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A Nerdy Middle-aged loser Miguel with a dad bod who teaches your genetics class

In celebration of 1k followers, I give you Pt.5 <3

Enjoy! - Cupcake

Since that day you kissed Miguel on the cheek, the dynamic of y’all’s relationship had totally changed, but not drastically. Miguel was back to acting soft towards you, greeting you upon your somewhat late arrivals, getting you little gifts that reminded him of you, and the subtle exchange of glances in class.

Professor O’Hara was a little handsy during your tutoring sessions before, but now he was even more so, your little peck on his cheek was all the encouragement he needed. For sure, his job was on the line since anyone could’ve walked in and seen the two of you like this, but it was worth the risk. Just as long as you both acted this way in his office, the coast was clear.

The head messages had doubled, footsies was played underneath his desk, and he’d even find any excuse to have his hand on yours while you both worked independently, sitting in peaceful silence with each other. You found it hard to complete the research questions when his thumb kept caressing your knuckles, yet, you never protested. His flirt game was rusty, his advances limited to innocent touching and praise, but nonetheless, it was adorable to you the way he tried.

After that day in his office, tutoring sessions became less about tutoring and more just about being in each other’s company. Instead of spending an hour practicing formulas, you both would mingle while organizing the lecture hall or filing research papers. Anything to help Prof. O’Hara, or rather Miguel, since y’all are officially on a first-name basis.

A new development was when you started staying after to help him grade papers. The two of you would use this time to talk one-on-one more, no one there to interrupt. Miguel was just as handsy during this time, too. As mentioned before, he’d find any excuse to touch you, and in the most innocent ways. For example, if he saw a strand of your hair falling on your face while you were grading a paper, he’d simply tuck it behind your ear for you, or when the necklace he got you was crooked or facing the wrong side, he’d gently fix it for you while you spoke to him about one of your current interests, following along with low hums and ‘mhm’s. It’d make you blush and stutter mid-sentence, inflating his otherwise small ego.

Miguel wasn’t a very vocal person, you knew that, but you can see by his actions that he really really liked you. You continued to show your appreciation by leaving treats on his desk, keeping note that his favorite was black coffee and a quesito from the bakery he showed you on campus. A pastry not too sweet, and goes perfectly with a cup of cafécito.

But you were just too sweet and Miguel completely fell for it. He saw how eager you were to help other people in the class, and seeing how willing you were to stay with him to help him with anything you could. He admired that. It also confused him for so long because how has no one swept you off your feet? You were literally perfect? Certainly, people have tried, there’s no way he would believe that no one has. It’s apparent now that the both of you share feelings that are beyond platonic, it’s just a matter of time before someone makes the next move. Given the circumstances, for now, Miguel is taking things microscopically slow with you. He doesn’t wanna scare you off. The last thing he wants is to ruin his chance with you.

His feelings for you were growing, which slightly terrified him given that you are still, in fact, his student, no matter how grown you were. He couldn’t help it. His dreams about you were turning less lustful and more wholesome. When he sleeps, he would see himself coming home to you, cooking with you, reading books next to each other, or even cleaning with you. Just mundane day-to-day tasks, only they’re with you. Maybe for now, they’ll just stay in his dreams. Maybe.

The lecture had just finished and you sent your new best friend, the transfer, away with a European farewell, kissing both of his cheeks. Without you knowing, Miguel watches on with an unamused smirk, remembering how he mistook your relationship with the transfer as a romantic one.

Before leaving the lecture hall, you strut towards Miguel to give him your now-routinely kiss goodbye (on the cheek, of course…). As you walk, you see that he’s crouched over his computer, tired eyes glossing over the screen. The fatigue of finals season is beginning to show on him, and it was a pitiful sight that made you purse your lips. Although it made you sad, you couldn’t help but let a small puff of air out your nose with how his glasses sat low on his nose. He never bothered to fix them, so you were the one who’d fix them oftentimes, and every time, he’d give you a small, “gracias, mama.”

You set down your bag, the thud of it hitting the floor finally stealing Miguel’s attention away from the blue-lit screen. He looks you up and down over his lenses, the small, fine lines of his face showing his age and you loved ittt.

“Sweetheart, as much as I love it when you stay and help, I’d be happier knowing you’re at home getting the rest you deserve.” He softly speaks, this version of himself that is so different from the one he presents in front of his class and colleagues.

“You worry too much, Miguel.” You plant yourself next to his chair, leaning down to get a better look at what on the computer has him so worked up. “Jesus, Miguel, no wonder you look sick.” You scroll through what seems like an endless list of students who signed up for office hours. With the amount that registered, Miguel would have to work even outside of his office hours.

From Miguel’s seated position, he has first-class access to your sweet perfume and a million-dollar view of your neck and chest, his mind wandering for a moment.

“Are you listening to me? This is ridiculous, there’s no way you’re cramming this amount of students… is there not another professor who could tutor as well?” the small raise of your voice is enough to bring his attention upward, not that that was any better of a view. Now, he was just looking at your lips, and how your lip plump makes them looks deliciously kissable. He imagined how’d they’d look if they were-

“Miguel O’Hara!” He blinks once or twice, gaining consciousness again, “Excuse me, uh, yeah, no, I’m the only one who can. For this class, I mean.” He rubs one of his eyes, letting out a sigh as he looks at the heavily packed schedule displayed on his desktop. “Anyways, it’s my responsibility. This was in the job description, so I gotta do what I gotta do.”

You roll your eyes in annoyance, hands on your hips, “Okay, but that doesn’t mean compromising your own health. There are healthy and efficient ways of doing your job, Mig.”

There’s that nickname he loved. He melted every time you used it, the familiarity of y’all’s relationship shining through the most when you did. He especially loved it when you were upset. He thought it was cute.

“Let me tutor some.” This snaps Miguel back to Earth, but this time, he’s in disbelief. “You’d tutor other students?” This was a rhetorical question, of course, he knew you were serious. He knew how big your heart was. He guessed he was just in disbelief because, once again, he was beguiled by the existence of a literal angel sent to Earth. He can’t believe he’s been blessed by your presence and friendship (?). You were so kind, so intelligent, so put-together, extremely gorgeous… you were utterly perfect.

“If splitting the work meant you got some sort of rest around here, then of course I would! Mig…” You grab the nearest chair and pull it to sit next to him, placing a hand on top of his. His hand relaxes under your touch, “You’ll work yourself to death like this.” You send a warmth onto his hand and up his arm you rub circles on his knuckles, the same way he does it to you.

“You’ve done so much for me, Miguel. Let me repay you, please? Please let me do this?” You bat your eyes, Miguel’s kryptonite.

Miguel turns his hand to intertwine his fingers with yours, seeing the genuinity in your eyes. He gives it a small squeeze before saying, “What did I do to deserve you, hm?” it comes out just above a whisper.

“Plenty, Miguel. You’re the hardest working man I’ve ever met,” you cock your head to the side, your eyes tracing the muscles of his broad shoulders, counting in your head all the possible knots buried deep in there,” Here, sit back, please.” You say sweetly, standing back up to travel to the back of his seat.

“What’re you up to?” His eyebrows raised, but he eased again when he felt your small hands massaging the crooks of his neck. “Sshhhh, just relax, Mig. It’s ok.”

He furrows his brows feeling the scrumptious pain of knots unfurling and tension melting away. You know you hit a good spot when he accidentally lets out small groans. You’re doing so good that it takes every thing in him to hold back any embarrassing moaning.

You can see his literal jaw unclench, happy to see him so relaxed. “Feel good?” You whisper in a sugary tone, Miguel nodding with his lips parted. With his eyes closed, you were able to closely examine all the features that make up his beautiful face. He was simply gorgeous.

“S’good mama… s’good…” he speaks under his breath as you knead out the stubborn knots on his neck. Once you feel like you’ve ridden all the points of tension there, you slowly work your toward his clavicle. He lets you unbutton the first three buttons of his polo sweater. With your whole hands, you apply pressure there, offering weighted comfort to the area.

Then you rub up and down slowly, the sensation of his chest hair tempting you to venture deeper down his thick torso. Due to the immense relaxation, Miguel’s head begins to fall back onto your stomach, so you step closer to give him extra support.

He hums when he feels both of your hands cup his face. You then remove his glasses so you can work on his temples. His eyes are still closed, but you can see his lips slightly curl, which makes you smile. You wonder what he’s thinking about,

Miguel is currently thinking about where he should get down on one knee for you. He’s thinking about what color you’d possibly want the cabinets to be in your shared home. He’s thinking about if y’all’s child will be as nerdy as him or as fashionable as you. Either way, he’d be the happiest man in the world. This train of thought is stopped by the sensation of your lips on his forehead. His heart stops as well.

Then he feels the soft smack of your lips on his left cheek, then his right, leaving behind a trail of lip gloss prints. Anticipating a potential fourth kiss somewhere specific, he slowly opens his eyes, your face inches from his. His head leans all the way back, resting against your stomach still.

It’s silent between the two of you. You both lock eyes, completely drowning in the other's gaze. No words were exchanged, but there didn’t need to be.

Seeing no other action fit for this perfect moment, Miguel raises his hand above him to cup your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb. You inch down closer, your heart racing. His is, too.

When your lips cannot move anymore without touching, in what would be considered “Spider-Man” style ;) , you both share a kiss, so sweet and innocent. The perfect first kiss. You’re the first to pull away, but not wanting to pull away just yet, Miguel pulls you back into his lips by adding his other hand to your head, extending the kiss just a bit longer. You weren’t complaining, you’d stay here forever if you could.

Feeling your knees getting weak, you shift all your weight onto Miguel, your hands traveling from the sides of his face back to his pecs underneath his sweater. This also deepens your kiss, so to deepen it even more, Miguel's hands wrap around the back of your neck. You both come up for air for just a mere second, Miguel breathlessly letting out a weak, “Please?”

knowing what he meant, slowly going back down again but this time, open-mouthed. Miguel groans into your mouth with the feeling of his tongue on yours, practically treating it like his lollipop. The kiss becomes hungrier with a nibble on your lip by Miguel, pulling on it while you get some needed air. It’s getting sloppy now, and your hands travel lower, meeting the softness of his belly. His breath hitches when he feels them there, half-expecting you to be revolted in any way, but your hands just sit there. In fact, you start messaging there as well, giving love to his whole body. Your hands drag up and down his whole torso with each wet collision of your lips. Your hands would go as low as the pudge sitting above his belt, all the way to up his knife-like jawline, and back down again, and repeat. It’s like you wanted him to know you worshipped his body, and Miguel wanted to show some in return.

Using his hands on the back of your head, he tapped you to pull away so that he could take your hand and guide you around his chair, pulling you to straddle his lap. “C’mere…”

Tongues are going down throats, moans are being heard, and hands are becoming desperate. The fingers tugging his hair, his hands squeezing the globes of your ass, him desperately lifting his hips to make some friction. It was like horny college kids fucking for the first time…. or at least maybe one of y’all felt that way. The other was just that. A horny college student.

There was no stopping either of you, except maybe for the knocking at the lecture hall door.

Both your heads snapped toward the thankfully semi-transparent, iced door. You scramble to get off Miguel’s lap, Miguel wiping your lip gloss off his face. You go to button his sweater and fix his hair as he calls out, “Just a moment.” You give him his glasses when you hear the voice of the student speaking about a tutoring session with Miguel through the door.

Miguel thinks he’ll go to the door, but he feels you grab his hand. “Hey,” you pull him in for one last peck, “I’ll take this one, mkay?” You smile up at him, a very dazed Miguel looking back at you. As far as he’s concerned, he’s floating right now.

“Anyways, it seems like someone,” you look down, motioning to the prominent bulge in his pants, “needs a moment to calm down.” You chuckle, practically gliding to the door as Miguel looks down at his excitement, wide-eyed and making his own way into his private office to… read about DNA Polymerase Replacement or something.

Want more Dadbod!Miguel? Here's my mastlist, bae!

A/n: I just wanted to thank you guys for 1k followers as well as all the appreciation on this lil story of mine<3 y’all so sweet n cewt, and it’s so much fun writing this fic n just writing in general! Ty for letting my creative juices fuel ur delulu <3 I also hope that this hot, wet, fat kiss made up for all the edging I’ve done, if not, sorry <3 Next chapter tho………….. but chu gotta stay tuned, yall hear meeeeee????

<3 Tags <3

@safixiovi @mukeovernetflix @mochikisses @miguels-cock-piercings @miranexx @bunnibitez @deepdiveintothedeephive @faretheeoscar @sillygardeneggperson @librababe99 @sariespi @little-lovelace @monstersimp @oharasfilipinawife @obi-mom-kenobi @hyjionie @maomaimao @pomakori @rxckstarss @mochimoqa @princesatracionera @queerponcho @walmaerts @froggygal @yaysposts @koko-1025 @kikaaauu @lauraolar14 @anotherprettyprincess @kaidxra @farrowroyale @pigeonmama @exactlyyoungchaos @fayeofthenightingale @s4dow @hartsucks @amberbalcom14 @wait2nourh @tatooieve @helen-j-magnus @ce3stvu @mintssanctuary @migueloharasoulmate @veyveys @theanbitchless @nebulositycloud @jh7ley @gothicteddybearhugs

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kaicubus · 9 months

Text

My Number One Priority | Kokushibo

₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊ ───────────── ₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊ ─────────────── ₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊

warnings ✩° : 18+ NSFW, cursing, brat taming!receiving, rough sex, p in v, fucking against a wall, built up tension, consumption of alcohol (but non-intoxicated sex), not established relationship, consensual sex, size difference, open area fucking, dirty talk, dacryphilia.

pairing ✩° : bodyguard!kokushibo x fem!reader, au not specified maybe modern idk...

premise ✩° : as your personal body guard, kokushibo is tasked with looking after everything you do to ensure your safety. you typically don’t take kindly to his overbearing nature, seeing as he’s just someone your dad hired, but kokushibo wants to change your mind about this whole protection thing to show you it’s really not all that bad.

word count ✩° : 5.7k

authors note ✩° : so. i’m back. with this. lol!

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"Look! I don’t need you following me around all day! You’re not going to this club with me, you don’t wear anything besides that suit and I’m not letting you follow me around looking like you’re going to the next business conference! Besides, don’t you have something better to do?”

You breathe out a rough sigh and cross your arms with nothing but pure frustration clouding all judgment. For the past month or two, you’ve had your very own bodyguard, someone who follows you around, guards areas where you’re present, and doesn’t let you have a mind of your own. Of course you didn’t need one, but being related to one of the richest men where you live, your father keeps you on lock down where a body guard is needed. It annoyed you at first, and it annoys you now.

You have a reputation for always managing to uproot even the most stubborn of weeds that call themselves your protectors, usually playing tricks on them to get them fired or slip up enough times that your father makes sure they never work again, just because the feeling of a man—usually two times your size—lurking over your shoulder every waking second rubs you the wrong way. What makes it especially worse was that none of them had personality, they were all the same: quiet, uninterested, and far too uncomfortable with you to do anything risky.

Up until recently, it really hurt knowing the undeniable truth that your body guards were never going to be your friends or even get to know you—they were just mindless husks working with strings in their backs to do anything your father said. He was the one with money after all. You were just an associate to them.

That realization was the reason why you decided to burst all out on your father’s new hire, a man by the name Kokushibo. According to him, Kokushibo was the perfect fit for his lovely daughter, reserved, agile, and willing to stop at nothing to ensure your safety. But to you, Kokushibo was just like the rest, quiet, uninterested, and most likely just doing what he’s told. On his own, though, Kokushibo was tall, way taller than you, had long, layered hair with frosted red tips that stood out from his head of otherwise dark burgundy hair, and almost ghost white skin. His arms were strong, which your father made sure to comment on with a goofy gesture of flexing his own, elderly muscles, saying how they’re, “the best in the game,” and even pulled up Kokushibo’s pants to reveal his toned calves and rave at those too. When it happened, you lost your mind, screaming at your father at the invasion of privacy, but Kokushibo remained solemn and just let your father continue.

When you were introduced, all Kokushibo did was bow and make a promise of not letting you get out of his sight, and making sure you were his number one priority. What a load of shit.

So now, with your finger in his face, you buck up to your body guard and glare at him. Your silence means nothing to him, Kokushibo continues to stare at you as if he was watching paint dry, which easily irritated you more. “Kokushibo I am NOT letting you go with me.” Your answer remains the same. In your defense, you’ve been planning to go to a club with your friends all week. Getting dressed up and doing your makeup and attending a trashy club isn’t something that’s usually in your schedule, so when presented with the opportunity to take shots or even better, hook up with someone random, you eagerly accepted. The only issue now is the man standing behind you in your own bathroom, watching you poke the backs of gold hoops through your ears.

“I can wear something else if the suit is the issue.” Kokushibo says with his head tilted down, “I don’t only wear this. I know club attire isn’t proper like what I’m wearing.” He wanted to justify.

“Well, maybe you should wear something else for a change, maybe then I’ll see you as something other than a robot who follows me around. You’re like one of those cartoon characters who never changes their outfit because their show doesn't receive enough funding for more animation frames...or something.” You laugh to yourself and spin your head around in the mirror, checking all angles of how your earrings look, “Perfect!”

Kokushibo leans against the door frame and lets out a small grunt of displeasure, “I still think you should’ve worn the white dress.”

“And look like some runaway bride? Plus, I’m not trying to spill anything on imported silk. So. What, you don’t think the black looks cute on me?” You look over your shoulder and give your bodyguard a pouty look, poking fun at his question. Kokushibo shrugs and rolls his eyes, “I’m just glad you chose to cover up this time.”

Looking down at your outfit, you had to disagree with his passive aggressive remark. Whether you covered up or not was never dependent on how cute you looked. The long sleeve dress look was already so complimentary to your figure, hugging your hips and waist in all the right places, even enhancing certain assets which was a nice bonus. The only issue you had with the dress was with the length. Sure, you’d be going to a dimly lit club where no one would be able to tell if your dress rode up just a bit, but the struggle of constantly pulling it down to avoid that already made your head roll back in annoyance. Almost as if he’d read your mind, Kokushibo lets out a chuckle and makes his way behind you.

With only an inch or two separating you from each other, you swear you can hear your name leave his lips in sort of a desperate tone, yet it’s quiet and almost sort of whiny, leading you on to believe he really doesn't want you going. But who was he to stop you from having fun? You deserve it for putting up with him.

“Here,” You hold your hand out to your body guard, “Can you put this on for me? It’s got a little clasp, so try not to break it with your huge, killer hands please?” As much as you like to joke about things like that, Kokushibo knows all too well what he’s done to protect you with those same hands, now holding an expensive 14k gold plated choker, laying it across your collarbone. His pale, knobby fingers fidget for a second, releasing the clasps from each other, and wrapping it around your neck.

It was all you needed before you headed out to a night of fun and getting the perfect chance to turn heads and grab the attention that you lacked with anyone else around, mostly Kokushibo. But then again, you wanted to ignore the possible thought that you could ever wish your bodyguard to look at you in a way that no body guard is allowed to.

You turn back towards the mirror, ignoring the eyes that stared as you applied the expensive, creamy red lipstick onto your lips slowly. The color itself was a guaranteed rite of passage to any eyes in the club, especially accompanied by your dress and jewelry, and it only helped that it was a light wear and something that was easily smudge proof. That was, if anyone would want to kiss you tonight, no one would suspect anything when you came back home.

The sudden feeling of rough hands gliding down your waist jostles you from your thoughts, rustling the fabric hugging tightly against your skin just enough to expose your thigh to the curious thumb already poking in.

“Need I remind you, Y/n, I don’t need you getting into any trouble tonight.” Kokushibo’s husky voice speaks into your ear, “You know if I’m not there to watch you, someone could easily kidnap you and hold you for ransom, right?” His fingers massage lightly into your hips, signaling he means no harm with his sudden grab. Said sudden grab, however, ignites a swarm of butterflies inside of you, instantly flooding directly to your chest and stomach leaving you with no sensible thought when the words, “Don’t worry Kokushibo, I’ll be good. I promise.” leave your red stained lips in an exasperated tone.

Kokushibo smiles and lets go, although you wish he hadn’t. With that, you find your ride waiting for you outside, with one of your friends driving and the other in the passenger seat, leaving you to sit in the back with another friend. You were happy with the seating arrangement, because at least you weren’t going to be the designated sober friend and you could drink as much as you pleased.

When you arrive at the club, almost immediately you’re hit with all the feelings you were looking to get. Instantly, you’re rushed with trashy sounding music, boosted so everyone can hear the amount of bass in the song, the pounding of people jumping around and all of their voices quickly merging into one, big cloud of sound. Perfect.

Before you know it, you have a drink in your hand, and before you know what happens next, you’re holding an empty cup. Shot glass after shot glass, you throw your head back to take every small, yet effective amount of alcohol your friends willingly provide for your whole party. That is, until everyone starts to disperse, leaving you alone dancing by yourself in what seems to be a mosh pit of people doing the exact same. Loose arms and wobbly legs hit your own, bumping into you and occasionally pulling on your hair, to which you immediately receive a slurred, ‘sorry!’ after. Unlike everyone else though, you’re not as drunk as you’d like to be. After all, you could still see reasonably well and didn’t have to hold onto anything to walk, but another trip to the bar would fix that right away.

As you’re making your way out of the surplus of people, you finally break free and manage to catch your breath, only for a short while.

That’s when you make eye contact with him. He isn’t exactly someone who you can see clearly, not from far away at least. He is hidden in the darkness of the club, only being illuminated by the strobe lights occasionally flickering now and then with the beat drops of the loud music booming in your ears, wrapped with mystery and alluring temptation. Even by just looking at him, you can tell he’s well off. His long hair is tied back into a low ponytail and he’s wearing a white shirt only buttoned up halfway with his long sleeves rolled up just above his elbows, dark pants that are secured with a similarly dark colored belt that shines along with the light, and a silver Breguet watch that glistens when the light touches it.

He’s irresistible. So irresistible, you don’t deny your body when it starts moving on its own, taking a few steps closer towards the mystery man, swaying your hips with your own charm, still managing to be nonchalant and confident at the same time. It doesn’t take long before he eyes you again, a smirk spreading across his lips seeing you drift closer and closer to him until finally, you’re close enough to actually see his face.

The man turns away as soon as you’re standing right next to him though, much to your dismay. It isn’t until then do you find yourself at the edge of the other bar in the club, clearly the fancier kind seeing as there’s not that many people around than on the dance floor or mingling elsewhere. It’s just you and him.

You bite your lip and sit down, leaning into the counter and pressing your chest up against the cold surface, politely waving down the bartender who comes rushing to your aid as soon as he sees you. He takes down your order and toddles off to make it, pouring all the ingredients in and shaking your drink in his metal bottle. That’s when you take your chance and look at the guy again, tilting your head down.

The bartender hands you your drink and you easily gulp it down, not satisfied with the effects yet. So you ask for a few vodka shots in hopes to get to where you need to be, and thankfully it works. Now, with a good amount of alcohol in your system, you start to feel that estranged buzz jerking through your body, giving you the confidence you need to

With a few drinks down already, the electrifying buzz starts to come into effect, granting you more confidence that you thought you already had to tap the man’s shoulder. Despite your vision blurring, you lean against your palm and smile. “Hi~ It’s nice to meet you. I’m Y/n-“

When he finally turns around, revealing his face, your blood runs cold. In sheer disbelief, you instantly lurch back. The sight sobers you up immediately.

“KOKUSHIBO?!” A hand flies to your mouth, “What the hell are you doing here?! Did you—did you follow me?”

Now you had wished you’d come to your senses earlier. From across the room, all you saw was a tall man with long hair and a drink in his hand, but there was a small—now loud—voice in your head that said you should’ve waited before sitting down next to him. You wanted to slam your head into the counter for being so reckless.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/n.” Your bodyguard lets out a lowly chuckle and rests the bottom of his drink down onto the counter. “I knew you would get yourself into trouble so I had to come too, you know that. It’s also nice to prove that without my supervision, you’d walk up to anyone and—from what I can only assume—sleep with them. Am I right?” Although his eyes are dark, you can’t seem to ignore the very subtle, flirty tone in his voice. Almost as if he were teasing you.

“Don’t fuck with me! You followed me, Kokushibo. And it’s because you don’t trust me. I told you what was going to happen but I guess I just can’t be alone for one single fucking night!” You groan and hide your face with your hands, “I seriously thought you’d let me off the hook for just this once…”

Kokushibo’s eyes fixate on yours, “Don’t be like that, it’s my job, Y/n.”

“It’s not your job to make me feel suffocated, it’s your job to make me feel safe. And I do not feel safe knowing you’re watching my every move.” You fold your leg on top of the other and lean forward, pressing closer to him. As much as you hate him right now, you have to admit there’s something about his presence that makes you feel at ease, especially at a club of intoxicated and possibly dangerous people. Of course, Kokushibo takes note of it and hides his small grin.

“Y/n, it sounds like you feel safe with me,” Your bodyguard leans forward and touches your thigh delicately, “You don’t actually hate what I do, you’re just bad at telling me those things. Maybe, you even think this job of mine is something you tolerate?” Kokushibo’s voice is low and melodic. It draws you in nearly instantly, forcing you to nod as there seems to be no other choice to do. Kokushibo leans in closer and raises his brows slightly, eyes closing in onto yours and you refuse to look away. You always knew he was attractive, anyone could tell you that, but when did he become irresistible?

You gulp down some much needed air, staring at him with wide eyes and a trembling mouth, unable to form any words only hoping that your expression can tell him what you wanted to say. Those three words that would finally admit your feelings for him. But instead, you take a chance, and his leg in your own hands, quickly rushing to close the gap between his face.

In a flash, the space between your heads is removed and your lips catch his. Your mouth is cushioned by his thin, usually stoic smile, that quickly sears hot with what you can only assume is embarrassment. You can even feel a similar heat spread all over your face. But to your surprise, Kokushibo doesn’t pull away. The overwhelming sensations become too much to bear, however, so you pull away and gasp, ripping your lips from his.

Kokushibo blinks rapidly, almost dumbfounded at what you had just done, and looks at you with his finger curled over his lips in a flushed shock. The realization hits you like a truck that there was a small possibility that you misinterpreted a few signs along the way, that maybe now you fumbled so hard into Kokushibo that you weren’t ever going to be taken seriously ever again—or worse—ever going to see him again. You back away.

"Oh. Oh my God. Kokushibo, I am so. I am so sorry. I didn't mean to do that, I don’t even know what I was thinking I just—” You try and stammer to make sense of yourself, but even you don’t know what you want to say. Instead, you stare at Kokushibo in hopes he’d understand.

But he doesn’t say anything. There’s not even a transition between now and when Kokushibo pulls you back into his chest, now sitting you onto his waist. The world disappears just as soon as it appears, and you’re kissing him again. And again. And again. You feel him stand up and the way his hands snake around your hips to hold you up and notice how he even tugs down the sides of your dress so you don’t accidentally reveal anything he wouldn’t want anyone to see.

The walk, if you can even call it that, to a more private area is all a hazy blur. One second you open your eyes to see people dancing and the next, you’re against a wall in a busy hallway. No time is wasted since Kokushibo was doing all the work, all while handling your weight in its entirety with the sheer strength of his hips and slight hold of his arm up your back. The rest he does blindly.

When you open your eyes to catch a glimpse of his face, you realize that now you’re in a different hallway, one still as dark and hidden away as the rest, so no one can walk by and see you two. You crane your neck up to meet Kokushibo’s sultry, yellow eyes as he lets out a raspy groan.

“Fuck...Y/n,” You can tell he’s annoyed but holding back for your sake, “Why did you have to go and do that? I can’t...I can’t...why did you...dammit.” Kokushibo looks away to the side so you can only see the sharpness of his cutting jawline, checking his surroundings. It isn’t until now that you can see how red he is. His ears, his cheeks, his nose, his entire face, all glowing pink. Could it be?

“Kokushibo, did you like the kiss?” The question burns on your tongue.

He struggles to defend himself with a stern, “No. I can’t like it. So just, I’ll drive you back but you can’t ever talk about this.” That’s an order, you know all too well, but you continue to press him for answers. You know Kokushibo is strict, but you know he can’t resist you, and right now there’s a fire burning inside of you that you’ve never felt before, and you only want to make it burn more.

Lifting your leg, you flash a small grin up at Kokushibo who has a firm hand planted beside your head, guarding your face from anybody walking by. You do it slowly, but eventually, you start moving your dress so that his eyes draw to what you’re desperately trying to show him.

“You’re so mean and uptight, Kokushibo...always following the rules and making sure I don’t get into trouble,” You lift your leg more, exposing more of your skin past regions he shouldn’t be looking, “Kokushibo, I came here to feel seen for my body and have a little fun,” You peel your dress back and reveal a pair of dark, lacey panties that match your dress to a T, “Would it kill you to do the same?”

No, it would not.

Like a man possessed, Kokushibo hungrily catches your mouth with his and kisses you roughly. With the sudden collision, his teeth knock against yours but the pain quickly subsides as soon as you feel the softness of his tongue glide into your mouth. But his lips are soft, and so are his hands as they trace lines up the back of your neck to bend your head back, allowing for a better position for Kokushibo to kiss you deeper. You want to say something, but the words quickly fizz away as soon as Kokushibo starts to breathe heavier. Almost on instinct, you feel your body roll against his. That’s when you feel a hardness you know well growing inside of his pants, which only makes your movements a thousand times more heated.

Kokushibo groans into your mouth and cups the side of your face with his hand and breaks the kiss suddenly to gasp for air, which you do the same.

“Fuck, Y/n, what are we doing?” He whispers, panting hot air against the side of your sticky neck, “What are you doing? Have you always wanted to do this? Fuck your body guard? What does this say about you...”

You bite your lip and lower your gaze down to his belt, “This is payback for losing my trust. This,” you look in his eyes, “Is how you’re going to get it back.” You kiss him again, only this time harder, which catches him off guard but not for long.

From the very start, Kokushibo was holding back. Not anymore. Now, Kokushibo has no control. Watching you fall apart completely from just his touch sends shocks throughout his body, seeing each twitch, each spasm, each jerk, turns him into a stranger to himself. A deprived, starving stranger.

His own hands are the ones to rip your dress from the top clean down the middle, tearing the black fabric easily with a small tug as he unwraps you like you were a gift to him all along. Kokushibo’s careful with not tearing anything else, though. Once your body is free from the skin tight dress, Kokushibo stares at your chest and thighs, now fully exposed to him. You can’t help but feel a bit shy under his heated gaze, but he doesn’t give you a chance to hide away from him.

Kokushibo pulls his shirt off in a hurry, unbuttoning every button he had on and practically throws it off his burly shoulders, diving right back into your lips, meeting your mouth with a feverish, eager tongue. You can’t even think. You knew he was assertive, it’s in his nature, but you’d rarely think about what Kokushibo was like outside of working for you. Was he secretly kind? Did he go to school? What color was his favorite? Even with his mouth on yours, you realize that you don’t even know anything about him, but he knows practically everything about you.

He even had tabs on your internet history, which was something you always meant to bring up with him but never did. So, yeah, everything.

“Kokushibo-” You gasp out his name, feeling his hard, yet strangely smooth hand roll up your stomach, thumbs pressing into your skin as they search for all the weak points he knows you have.

Kokushibo stops for a moment to admire all of the exposed parts of your body. Even though he’s been around long enough to where you’d feel comfortable changing around him, Kokushibo never had the chance to fully look at your torso. Doing so was sinful in his mind before, but now it hardly mattered what he was looking at. It’s the fact that you make his thoughts run rampant, screaming at him to do anything to mark up your untainted and pure skin.

“Please don’t make me ask for you to touch me...I give you full permission to do whatever you want to me, just don’t make me wait, Kokushibo.” Your arms swing around his neck, “I really just need you to touch me.”

Thankfully, Kokushibo obliges. With a soft hand, he finds the bottom of your thigh and starts rubbing, searching for the waistline of your underwear, all while smirking down at you. “You don’t have to beg, Y/n, I thought we knew I do things based on what I see fit. And I see desperation,” Kokushibo pants, “Yearning,” he grins, “And lust.”

For a moment, your eyes flash down to see your bodyguard’s hands pulling his belt loose from his waist, unbuckling the sterling silver latch and loosening his pants enough to reveal what was so hard against you earlier. You shiver at the sight of it. You always knew Kokushibo was big, that’s the whole reason why he was chosen for the job. If he was big enough for himself, he’d be big enough to protect you. Nothing about him was small. He had big hands, big hair, a big ego, and now that you find it out, even his dick was big. But that was to be expected.

What you didn’t expect, however, was how miserable it looked not being inside of you. Despite its length and girth, Kokushibo’s member was neat and clean, with thick veins running down the sides and a slightly red tip with just the slightest amount of cum leaking from the head, slicking over it and making it appear shiny under you. Looking at it, your body jerks and you look up at Kokushibo, who’s just staring down at his length with half a breath in his chest.

“I am desperate, Kokushibo.” Your legs tremble as your hand trails down between your legs, careful not to touch Kokushibo’s cock, and pull back your panties to the side, revealing your equally aching pussy to him. Just as you thought, you were soaked. Soaked even could be an understatement. Your pussy was dripping with slick pooling from all of the kissing, all the comments, and the sight of your ‘scary’ bodyguard now so horribly drunk in love. “But you didn’t pay attention to me, so what was I supposed to do? Wait?” You slide your fingers in between your cunt and start rubbing into your heat slowly.

Kokushibo pants louder, “Fuck...”

“Come on, Kokushibo, you know me. Do I like to wait?” You keep rubbing. Despite the sounds around you, all you both can hear are the wet, sloppy sounds echoing, making it impossible to ignore it.

He shakes his head silently, thinking that would be a satisfactory smile, and keeps his eyes on your hand.

“Do I?” You let your jaw hang open and that’s when he finally understands.

“No, you don’t.” Huskily, he says.

Everything was silent now.

With that, Kokushibo doesn’t allow you any chance to process when your hand is ripped from your slit and replaced by the head of Kokushibo’s twitching member pushing against you. He doesn’t give you time to move or adjust, as you don’t like waiting, Kokushibo adheres to that wish and enters your needy pussy. The darkness had actually hid his length relatively well, so it seemed like you could take him easily, but what you learned was that you couldn’t, and he was far too big to slam into you right away. Tears prick your eyes as your nails hungrily bite into his back, mouth hanging open and chanting his name like a prayer to not die right then and there.

“Kokushibo! W-Wait! FUCK!” You cry out. Anyone that heard you was their fault at this point, you didn’t care, you had to make noise. “Kokushibo!”

Your bodyguard ignores your pleas and thrusts inside of you again and again, slamming deep inside of you with your pussy drooling all over his stiff cock. Your cunt starts to throb almost instantly now that he’s all the way in, but it still tries to reject his size and slowly starts to push him out, but Kokushibo grabs your hips and forces your pussy to swallow him whole. You continue to cry out at the pain, wishing he’d at least take you gently, but Kokushibo was anything but gentle.

Going along with the rhythm of your gasps and shrills, Kokushibo fucks your walls unapologetically, muttering as best as he could into your ears while trying to catch his breath himself. “You’re so fucking tight, Y/n. Fuck, you like that? Keep your eyes on me. Make as much noise as you want, I want to hear it. I want to hear how badly you wanted to fuck me, your body guard.” His voice was growing thicker by the second to the point it sounded like it was coming straight from his gut. It doesn't even matter, nothing matters but feeling Kokushibo quickening his speed and deepening his cock into your core.

You cling onto his back and arch your back, pressing your body against him. You want to say something to him, but the words don't come out. How can they? How can you even form a single thought when Kokushibo is rocking into you with all of his pent up tension running inside of his body, only slowing down when you cry louder, but even then he has the chance to speed up and takes it a few times.

Almost as if you thought you’d never get used to it, the pain subsides to a more enjoyable pain that makes your eyes roll back with pleasure. Now you were able to focus. Now, you could feel the way Kokushibo cupped your ass in his hands, how tightly he held you, and how your stomach fluttered every time he rolled his hips into yours. You grasp onto the roots of his burgundy frosted hair and latch onto his lips hungrily, to which he gladly accepts and kisses you back twice as hard.

“You always go too far, and you don't expect me to go all out? How is that fair, Y/n?” He thrusts harder with each word, groaning into your open mouth as your walls clamp around his dick, gasping his name. You can feel his cock sink inside of you deeper, twitching inside of you every chance it gets, making it hard to ignore the growing, twisting feeling inside of your stomach that starts to swirl into knots and very quickly starts to unravel. You knew what was going to happen next, and by the way Kokushibo squeezed your body closer to his, you can tell he was close too. Fucking your bodyguard was something you'd always hoped would happen, but you didn't know it would come sooner than later. Beads of sweat start to form on Kokushibo’s face and arms as he huffs more onto your well damp skin, just trying not to lose composure before you do.

“K-Kokushibo…I-I can't, I need to,” You cry out and claw into his back again, “Y-You're not being fair to me! How can you! MGH!” He cuts you off by placing his mouth on yours before abruptly pulling away.

“Y/n, shh.” He hushes you and kisses you again, closing his eyes tightly, “Fuck, fuck why do you feel so good. I shouldn't enjoy this as much as I am…and yet…What did you do to me?” His cock pumps inside of you more sloppily now, dipping into your core. All he can hear are your breathy moans and the way his dick messily slaps into your hips. It drives him wild.

“I’m gonna cum,” You murmured into his ear, “Kokushibo I’m sorry, I'm sorry for everything and treating you like shit and ignoring you and getting mad at you. Please please please! I'm gonna cum!”

Kokushibo returns to silence and doesn't let up, keeping his pace quick, deep, and efficient. The steadiness of his thrusts builds up until finally, your walls tighten all around him more than they ever had before, which was all Kokushibo needed to finally release. You tip your head back and so does Kokushibo as you both simultaneously stop moving all together, gasping and twitching feeling Kokushibo’s load burst inside of your sore cunt. For what feels like forever, your bodyguard’s cock pulsates, leaping while still being stuffed inside, spurting his warm, gooey, white liquid against your walls and filling you up to the point where you can feel a good amount leak outside down your legs. You tremble and pick your head back up with your chest heaving, looking at Kokushibo as he looks just as tired as you, if not more dazed.

“Hah…hah…oh my God…” You pant, leaning against him with a soft smile across your face. It didn't matter if either of you smelled like sex, or looked as though you'd just ran miles, Kokushibo looks back at you with an equally satisfied grin, but he doesn't speak, clearly too concentrated on the aftershock of fucking his assignment as hard as he possibly could. You couldn't stand or feel your legs, but again, that didn't matter.

His eyes fixate on your legs and soon enough, he gently moves himself so that you're no longer attached to him, noticing the way his cock springs free and is still throbbing, wet with slick and cum leaking from the tip. Kokushibo glances at you and swallows.

“We should head home, Y/n, you've caused enough trouble here.” He lets out a sigh and stuffs his dick back into his pants, jumping a bit to fully dress himself back up. Without being asked, Kokushibo fixes your panties and hides your body as best as he can, and picks you up in his arms so that your body isn't exposed. “I'll walk you back. No need for a car, I don't need anyone else seeing you like this.”

#kaicubus #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny #kny fanfic #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer fanficiton #kokushibo #kokushibo kny #kokushibo x reader #kokushibo x you #kokushibo x y/n #kokushibo smut #kny smut #demon slayer smut #smut fanfiction #smut

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tenelkadjowrites · 11 months

Text

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

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risuola · 4 months

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LOOKS LIKE WE'RE SNOWED IN FOR THE NIGHT — F. READER x KAMO CHOSO, with whom you got stuck in a cabin

A fireplace, a nice blanket, a bunch of snow and the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree… for some it might sound like a perfect way to spend the night during the festive season, but not when you’re stuck in a cabin in the middle of nowhere with your biggest enemy. And it’s cold.

cw: smut, enemies to lovers, oral (f. receiving), angst-ish vibe, death mentioned (I put it as a warning, but honestly, if you're into jjk you're probably used to it, just sayin'), reader discretion is advised — 2,9k words

kissmas masterlist

“Looks like we’re snowed in for the night,” Choso pointed, making few futile attempts to push the doors open. “I can force the way out but I doubt you’re gonna survive it.” He added, venomous tone evident in his otherwise calm and low voice.

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. This is horrible, you thought, it couldn’t possibly get worse than that. The cabin, secluded and nestled deep in the woods, once a welcoming refuge from the cold, was now a claustrophobic cage trapping you and Choso inside. The doors, blocked by the snow piled high behind them were impossible to open and the windows – old and grime-stained – covered with ice, offered no escape. The interiors, now cleared out of the cursed spirit that resided in here scaring the owners away, were as cozy as they could be with warm colors of the creaking wooden floors and the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree, that funny enough was the only thing that still was working inside. The furniture was faded and worn-down by the humid air, the cobwebs decorating every corner.

The task at hand was simple enough – get in, exorcise, get out – but the snow and the cold were making everything more difficult, not to mention the man you had to share the experience with. It was a part of introducing the Death Painting into the jujutsu society and a silent attempt to make the two of you fonder of each other, but the result proved itself to be starkly different, when you got stuck with him for the night, or god knows how long.

“Damn,” you groaned finally, realizing there’s nothing you can do to make the situation better. No escape, no signal, not even a goddamn kettle that would work.

“Looks like you’re really screwed, huh?” Choso mocked you, a smirk twisting his features because he knew – he just knew that you’re not gonna make it through the night and though he enjoyed the idea of watching you freeze to death, he involuntarily threw some more wood into the fire to keep it alive.

“I’m perfectly fine, fuck you,” you snapped, glaring at his stupid handsome face from your place across the room, hoping silently that maybe once in this world a glare could kill.

You and Choso had always been on opposite sides. Your fights always end up in blood, there was little to no respect between you two, and though in a fight you two were able to work together, outside of it, it was a much different story. You just couldn’t stand each other, you could never put a finger on the reason why, but you just never clicked. Always having different opinions, always too stubborn to let go and not even once agreeing on a plan of work. You trusted him just enough to know he will most likely not kill you in your sleep.

Now, as the sound of the howling wind outside was constantly reminding you on the dire situation, the storm outside showing no signs of letting up, the pressure between you and him seemed to reach a breaking point. At first, you moved through the cabin, walking back and forth, avoiding each other’s gaze and trying to ignore the fact you were trapped together. “Sit quiet and stop being annoying,” you growled at him, hating the way he was sprawled comfortably on the little sofa while you were feeling more and more cold as the hours were passing by. Kamo and his damn temperature regulation.

You had been fighting constantly since you arrived, each blaming the other for the predicament you were in. You argued and hurled insults at each other, both trying to assert dominance over the other. You were constantly on the edge, you bickered until both of you were that close to exploding. You fought about everything, from the mission to the tiny space you were forced to share. You could barely stand the sound of each other’s breathing, much less the sight of each other’s faces and the constant, near proximity. It was only a matter of time one of you snapped.

It felt claustrophobic, nearly – the way only four walls were surrounding you and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t quite navigate yourself through the treacherous environment. You had no idea what exactly was oh-so wrong with this place. A desolate cabin with nothing but cold air and the palpable tension between you and Choso was slowly taking a toll on you. Harsh winter wind howled outside and it was clear that your spirits matched its bitterness. The twinkling, colorful lights adorning the mismatched Christmas tree in the corner did nothing to warm up the bleakness of the place.

Hours passed and you got tired of the banter. Choso noticed how slowly you became, quiet, less talkative. It became easier and easier to outsmart you as the cold was taking a toll on your body. Your retorts were less sharp, a little delayed as the temperature went even lower along with the night progressing.

“You’re gonna die in here?” He asked, his tone as nonchalant as ever, but it was getting to him that you might actually die that night. It was fun while it lasted and you did an excellent job in making him believe that you’re gonna survive the night, that you’re fine. He allowed his eyes, that up until that point were closed as he was resting on the sofa, to look at your form. You were shivering, seated on the furry carpet near the fireplace and though you were as close to the heat as it was possible, it didn’t do much to help you. Your breath was visible and you were constantly rubbing your hands together in hopes to stop them from going numb.

“I’m fine,” you said again, your voice much punier than you intended it to be and Kamo found it amusing how you forced yourself to sound strong, when in reality, you were so small and weak and vulnerable.

“Oh, are you?” The question had mocking qualities that Choso couldn’t hold back. “You know, all it takes is for you to ask nicely and I might consider warming you up.”

“Fuck you.” Oh, you were so stubborn. He shrugged and kept observing you.

The cabin fell quiet. The air was thick with tension and the only sounds were the occasional drip of water from the ceiling, crackling of fire in the fireplace and the soft tickling of a clock. The rattling of the windows in the wind accompanied the cacophony.

“Isn’t the big, strong sorceress now uncharacteristically quiet?” He joked once again, and you could have sworn that even in the freezing cold, he had an ability to make your blood boil. “Cat got your tongue?”

“I miss the times when paintings were not talking,” you retorted, wrapping yourself tighter in the imitation of a blanket you found laying around. “You have no idea how much I’d love to exorcise your half-cursed ass.”

“As if you were ever gonna be strong enough to put a harm onto me,” he said, pushing himself up from the couch. “Besides, you might wanna pick your words carefully. You’re at my mercy right now.”

“I’d rather be eaten by a polar bear than be at your mercy.”

“Oh, that would be a cool death, right?” He laughed, a taunting tone piercing the air and your soul, it seemed. “Or a curse. It would sound much better in the report later if I told your friends that you lost your life in battle, with bravery and strength, yeah? For sure it’s more appealing than a lame reason like freezing to death.”

“Oh, shut up…” you sighed, leaning your cheek on one of your knees. You kept them tightly pressed to your chest, a desperate attempt of storing any leftover heat along your torso, but it did little to nothing. “Come on, get your ass over there.”

“I already told you, you have to ask me nicely.”

“That’s as nice as I’m gonna get.”

“So that’s as close as you’re gonna get me,” he smirked, teasing you beyond decency, well aware of how delicate was a situation you were now in. To him, cold was nothing more than an inconvenience. In all honesty, he could break the doors open and just go through the snow during night and he would be just fine, but you… it was a different story and truth is that he stayed in the cabin only because of you.

“Choso, please, don’t be a dick, I’m freezing to death, literally,” you whined, forgetting about your pride and prioritizing the survival. “Please?”

“Much better,” Choso chuckled and moved from the sofa to the floor, sitting behind you with his legs on both sides of your frame. “Loosen up a little,” he ordered, throwing away your blanket and as his arm sneaked around your waist, he pulled you into himself, your back now pressed against his chest.

“Oh god…” you whimpered, shifting your position and wrapping yourself around him. He was hot and it felt like the heat was emitting from him, seeping onto you the moment you made contact with his muscular frame. You pushed your face against his neck, nuzzling your cold nose into his warm skin.

“Aren’t you a greedy little thing?” He commented, putting on an indifferent, snarky mask but inside, he was feeling things. It was odd, it was new. He wasn’t exactly an expert in romantic situations, in fact besides few really brief adventures with women, it was the first time he was actually somewhat intimate. Choso’s mind was in a limbo, trying to fight the thoughts of his body which were going crazy. The way your frame fit so closely to his, the way you turned your face and melted into him… it was almost too much. Thoughts raced around his head a mile a minute.

“Aren’t you a scrooge for letting me freeze while you’re that hot?”

“Well, I’m your partner on the job, not your personal heater,” he shrugged, allowing his hand to run along the curves of your waist and hip. “Also, I’d assume that the low temperature is a natural habitat for a cold bitch like you.”

“Ouch,” you acted hurt but couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “I have a great idea, why don’t you shut up?”

“Oh, did that sting you, princess?”

„I’m serious, you should shut the hell up,” it was a mumble, an unharmful one, but Choso must have gotten a different impression.

It was a flash. It took you few seconds to even register what just happened and once you did, you were already helpless beneath him. The soft, furry carpet now tickling you in the face as Choso kept you, chest down and pinned to the ground. It annoyed you how easily one of his hands kept both of your wrists pushed up above your head. You felt his weight on top of your thighs, his crotch pressed tightly to your ass and his other hand supporting his weight on the wooden floor.

“Now, if you’re gonna act like a brat, I’m gonna treat you as one,” he said, his voice low and close to your ear as he leaned down and gathered some of your hair to the side to uncover your face to his eyes. Your hopeless pulls and wriggles did nothing to loosen up his hold. If anything, his fingers only tightened their grip around your wrists.

“Get off me,” you groaned, trying to find your way out of the situation, but the movements of your body seemed to make it worse. The man hummed darkly, aiming a mean slap at your ass.

“Stop wiggling,” he warned, smirking at the way your body tensed for a moment. He couldn’t tell what’s gotten him into such a playful mood. Maybe it was all the thick air between you two finally exposing its true colors – something once filled with anger and hostility, now crackled with an undeniable sexual tension.

“Did you just slap me?” You couldn’t believe it, but you’d sooner be dead than you’ll admit out loud that it somehow felt good.

“I did,” he said nonchalantly. “You whined you’re cold, huh? Well, guess I’ll have to warm you up for real,” Choso added, now grinning mischievously. “Be a good girl, I know you can do it. Now I’ll let go of your hands and you’ll turn around, yeah?”

You hummed in response, not really sure what’s gotten into him but you were far from minding it so you flipped to your back as soon as he gave you a chance. Still on top of you, Choso kept a controlling grip over your hip, his touch burning your bare skin over there.

The fire crackled and flickered, casting warm, dancing shadows on the two of you but you couldn’t tell if the sparkle in his eyes was a reflection of it or just pure lust. The latter, you thought, catching his gaze as it scanned your form, paying a little more attention to your lips, chest and the little strip of skin that showed from underneath your blouse.

Kamo was enticed by you, fascinated even, by the way his body was suddenly yearning for you. The unusual desire overflown his senses and he found himself inching closer and closer, until he was just one, mere breath away from your mouth. He could feel you gasp, see the look of your eyes and if he wouldn’t know better he would be convinced there was lust in them too.

“Nervous?” He whispered, with a slight shadow of teasing painted all over his stupidly handsome features. His nose, now brushing against yours initiated the touch, a prelude of sorts to what was going to come and Choso chuckled at the lack of response from you. It was, in a way, an opening for you to push him away, to set a boundary, to lay down the consent but you made no effort to do any of that. Instead, you let your fingers to find his hair and once you pulled at them, there was no going back.

His lips pressed into yours. The kiss and the heat from your bodies warmed the cold air around you, melting the icy tension that lingered between you as you, too, melted below him. The time seemed to slow down and the melody of howling wind and fire was now a white noise to the soft sounds and whimpers you were making. Your mouth parted and Choso took the invitation eagerly, running his tongue along your lower lip and reaching yours. They twirled and twisted, danced and explored each other and you swore at the moment that the world around you had fallen away.

It didn’t take long since you were bare, completely exposed underneath his muscular body; the cold air around you a stark contrast to the extreme heat that was coming off of Choso. He was all around you, exploring your shapes with touches so tender, you couldn’t help but feel worshipped. The way he touched you, the way he kissed and drank every inch of your skin made your heart rumble against your ribcage. He went down, tracing the ups and downs of your figure with wet, sloppy stamps of his lips until he reached your thighs – both of which he kissed with as much attention.

It was intoxicating. Kamo felt as if everything around him twirled and he was drowning in the soft feeling of your plush skin. The curves of you filled every bit of his mind. Addicting, you were, so addicting he couldn’t find a strength to pull back and before he knew it, his tongue was already lapping at your clit. The beautiful melody of your moans filling his ears as he worked his mouth over the puffy bud, sucking and licking simultaneously. Waves and waves of pleasure you felt, spreading from your core and reaching every part of you. It was hot, it was like nothing else you’ve ever experienced.

“Oh god, Choso~” you were whining, a surprise to you cause up until this time you would swear you’re not the one to make such lewd noises during sex. All of that went out the window when it came to the man between your legs. He was flicking his tongue, twirling it and pressing it flat; every movement centered and focused, sharing one objective – to abuse the most sensitive, sweet spot on your body. He took his time, it was wet and sloppy, it was messy. The silky sensation of his tongue, warm and soft… oh, man has a talent.

Your breath was stuttering, hands grabbing the fluffy fibers of the carpet as your thighs were trembling and the urge to squeeze them over Choso’s head was slowly becoming irresistible. The way he was making out with your clit drove you insane, it brought you to the edge and pushed you over. You came undone and you came hard. He wasn’t stopping, just slowing down and leading you through the high as if it was his job and the very core of his existence.

“Feeling warmer?” He asked, once slowly coming back up above you. His face was now a real painting, covered with your essence and his lips, swollen and wet, stretched into a grin of satisfaction as he was taking in the sight of your breathless form. You nodded, barely registering the subtle teasing undertone he had in his voice. “Good. But I’m going to make you even hotter.”

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oliviajdjarin · 1 year

Text

Azriel Shadowsinger: Sex Habits

Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader (she/her; afab)

Summary: Headcanons (more like a bunch of imagines) about how Az treats his mate in the bedroom and otherwise.

Warnings: smut, smut, smut, smut, smuuuuuuut. Azriel is a switch, so is reader, swearing, lord of bloodshed cameo. This is pretty fucking dirty.

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Thank you @cherryjain17 for this amazing, inspiring request. I hope I did it justice.

SJM Masterlist

If you would like to leave a like, comment, ask, or reblog, it would be much appreciated <3

(pic from pinterest)

Morning

-I am of the opinion that Azriel fucks you differently depending upon the time of day.

-Let's start with morning, shall we?

-Azriel is a scheduled, reliable male. Training in the morning, always, no matter the night he had before. He owed it to his High Lord to always be ready for a fight - physically, and mentally. His constant, consistent training was how he maintained that.

-However, what Rhys didn't know about what he partook in before training wouldn't hurt him.

-When Az would wake in the morning next to your - usually naked - sleeping, curled, warm body, hair sprayed across the pillows, scent unique to you filling his lungs, face painted in pure elation and serenity...

-...yeah, he would get a little hard.

-The best was when you would wake up with him, eyes dull with sleep, but their color still bright. A small, languid smile on your face. He couldn't help but touch you in that moment, his body begging him to satisfy every sense he had with the feeling of you.

-He would begin with your face, dragging the knuckle of his pointer finger across your cheekbone. Opening his palm to feel the entirety of your cheek. Tracing down the column of your throat with his pointer finger. Painting across your collarbone with every digit. Cupping your breasts delicately, fondling them, massaging them. Dragging fingers down the center of your stomach, heating up every inch of it before finally...

-...yeah, I think we get it.

-The interesting thing about sex in the morning with Azriel is that, although it begins slow, he goes fucking fast in the mornings. Pounding his fingers into you over and over again, your cum dripping down his fingers and wrist. When he finally tastes you, it's a feast. Sloppy and wet and messy and you're groaning and he's smiling so fucking big. He gets you right on the edge of euphoria before pulling back and pressing a quick kiss to your lips and turning you around, face pressed against your soft pillow, and plunging himself inside of you without a drop of mercy.

-(All of this happens within minutes because, like I said, he's got a schedule to keep).

-As he ravages you, pumping in and out and in and out faster than your brain can process, he fucking sweats. It drips down his back, down his face, across his lips, down his chest, everywhere. Your still drowsy body loves when you scrape your nails down it, coating your palms with it and fucking up his previously clean, fluffed hair with it.

-The finest, perfect part about his sex in the morning is that, even though it's rough, quick, rabid, he holds you close the entire time. He cradles your head in his forearms, litters your spine in passionate, lingering kisses, holds your hips like a cracking sculpture, caresses your scalp, thighs, and lower back.

-It is a paradox; rough yet gentle, greedy yet giving, horrid yet beautiful, quick yet endless, and hateful, yet some of the most loved you ever feel by him.

-When he finishes, and you finish multiple times, he departs you with only a kiss, and rushes down the stairs to make it in just enough time for Cassian to not suspect anything.

-He gives you smirks and winks all day anyway, much to your chagrin.

Afternoon

-Around mid to late afternoon is when Azriel tends to get an itch.

-An itch to step away from it all: his desk, his tasks, his responsibilities.

-Sometimes this itch can be scratched by something simple: a walk around Velaris, or a flight, a cup of cocoa, or even a quick nap.

-Other times, however, this metaphorical itch can only be scratched by the exclusive, spectacular taste of his mate.

-And luckily for you, Azriel is the fucking king of quickies.

-He finds you within minutes, utilizing the convenient bond cemented in his very bones, and conveys his desires with only a look.

-Some days, you decline. Too busy with work, too tired from a night previous, or just plainly not in the mood.

-On these days, Azriel understands. He leaves you respectfully, always with a short kiss and a silent promise of "later" permeating in the air.

-On the days where you do accept, however, is when Azriel truly lights on fire.

-The caveat to quickies with Azriel, however, is that he cannot risk any...leakage onto his clothing. Whether that be cum, spit, or otherwise.

-Frankly, you couldn't either. The both of you took your jobs and professionalism too seriously.

-Which is what makes these quickies so fucking good.

-He kisses you, hard, and lifts you under your ass against his waist to press you against a nearby wall, covering the both of you in shadow. He kisses you until your head spins before unzipping whatever top you have on, and claiming the shit out of your breasts.

-Gods how he loves your breasts.

-He kisses and licks, nibbles and bites, marks and marks and marks you all over your chest and ribcage, whispering words dripping in honey.

-"All mine, these are all mine, aren't they?"

-"Never going to get enough of these - enough of you."

-"I can hear your heart, baby. Need a break?"

-"Fuck you," you respond, your matching smiles and shining eyes giving away your infectious joy.

-He kisses your tits long enough to make your mouth go dry from hanging open so long, before finally making his way up to your throat, whispering "mine" along the column.

-Never leaving a mark.

-He kisses around your pulse, and sometimes you kiss around his as well, before finally recolliding his mouth with your own, and kissing you like a male starved. Mapping you like a cartographer exploding a new land. Rejoicing in the mix of your skin and your mouth on his tongue like a male on his knees in prayer.

-You would think just kisses from him wouldn't count as a quickie, but with how thoroughly and religiously and hungrily he does, you come close to release every time.

-The both of you counted it.

-On days when his cartography becomes too much to bare, or the ego in your chest roars at the thought of him getting you so close to release by just his kisses, your fingers finagle their way to the tent growing in his pants, and palm him through the leather.

-Azriel felt that, as long as your mouth was not on him, he could control himself. The bar of professionalism would be met, and the risk of leakage would be next to none.

-But you have never been one not to test a theory, especially in the name of science.

-You palm him so wretchedly ferociously and savagely that you can practically sketch the exact curve, vein, and girth of his bulge. That's how hard he gets through his pants. You wonder if there is any blood left for his brain.

-You even push him away from you and lick him through the leather, never enough to stain his pants, but enough for him to feel the heat of your tongue cupping his balls and dragging across his dick.

-Still, he never comes, not once; however, that didn't mean he didn't retaliate.

-On days when you'd suck him off this way, he strikes back like a true Illyrian warrior.

-Unforgiving, and calculated.

-He guides you away from him, and does the exact same thing to you.

-Fingers you through your pants, pressing the fabric so taught against your clit you thought you would explode, before pulling his hand away, and replacing it with his mouth. Licking your folds through the fabric, nudging your clit with his nose, devouring and consuming you through the protection of one tiny piece of fabric.

-The mix of heat and fabric is so delicious that, every time, he leaves you near tears.

-He pulls away from you slowly, makes sure you can stand on two feet, and with one last kiss to your cheek, he backs away from you.

-"Later," he whispers, one of his shadows drying the tears staining your hot cheeks. "I want more of you later. I want more of you always."

-You always somehow return to the task you were attempting to accomplish previously, mind puddy, hands shaking, and breasts deliciously sore.

Night

-So yes, Azriel likes to fuck you fast. Leave you wanting more. Drooling for him. Pooling on the floor. Left on shaking knees. Departing from you with only a few words.

-But his favorite, most beloved way to fuck you is to make love to you. Slowly. Intimately. In every way he knows you love.

-And that is how he does it at nighttime.

-But, I am getting ahead of myself.

-After long days of meetings, missions, planning, or even just boring paperwork, there is nothing he adores more than a quiet, serene dinner with you. He enjoys cooking the meal himself, usually making something one of you has mentioned having a recent craving for, and absolutely beaming when you finally walk through the door.

-You join him in the kitchen, and immediately wrap your hands around his waist, pulling him into a hug. He holds you close, breathing in the products in your hair, and kissing the top of your head.

-"How was your day?" you ask him.

-He's honest. Somedays he says "good," somedays he says "okay," and somedays he just sighs.

-You don't usually ask him to elaborate on those days unless you get the feeling that he wants to, but no matter what, he always asks you the question back.

-You are always honest with him too.

-After that, he finishes off dinner, and the two of you eat. Some nights it's full of conversations, sometimes superficial, like how the weather has been, but sometimes they're deep. Deep enough that sometimes he wonders if your words are able to reach inside of his brain and stroke it, hitting it exactly where he needs to be challenged, praised, or questioned.

-It was unreal every time, how well you knew him.

-Other nights, however, were coated in comfortable silence. Maybe you were both too tired to talk, or too content, or couldn't think of much to say. He never minded. If there was anything he could appreciate, it was happy, wonderful, comfortable silence. It was a sign that his day had come to an end, he had kept his Court and his people safe, and he had done at least something right.

-And what better way to bask in the safety of silence than with the person who knows you better than anyone, and the person you have more love for than stars in the sky.

-After the two of you have full stomachs, he always leads you to your shared bedroom by his arm, and pushes your chair in for you.

-Your face heats every time. Without fail.

-So does his.

-He leads you to the bedroom and kisses you once, twice, three times, before departing to take care of the dishes. He pictures how you make the mundane, simple task of getting ready for bed so godsdamn beautiful: your face cleaned, your hair refreshed, your breath newly minted, and your shoulders and jaw relaxed. A timeless beauty. A vulnerable sight, only for him.

-He finishes up and heads back to you, hands clean and soul at ease. He finds you already in bed; maybe reading, maybe writing, maybe already closing your eyes.

-He gets ready for bed himself, making sure his teeth and tongue are brushed thoroughly.

-Some nights, that is it. He joins you in bed and you drift off together, holding each other close at the beginning of the night, and closer in the morning. Smiles on your faces. Soft snores escaping you. Bodies breathing in sync.

-But not most nights.

-Most nights, after him joining you in bed, you pull him in, and kiss him so softly he barely feels it.

-But it's there.

-"Touch me, Azriel," you whisper, "and let me touch you."

-And he lets you.

-The kisses start soft, just lips on lips, before your tongue breaks his lips apart, and your bodies begin to warm up. Either he lays you down on your back or you push him down, either way, one of you gets on top of the other, and the two of you begin to do nothing less than venerate each other.

-So much kissing, so much feeling each other up and down; down each other's backs, across each other's faces, through each other's hair, across each other's stomachs, and so much breathing and groaning against each other's skin.

-This is all before a scrap of clothing comes off.

-When it does, however, Azriel undresses you like a nurse would undress a wound. Almost in slow motion, so he can take a peek at how every inch of your body looks that day. Maybe you gained a bruise, a scratch, a freckle, or a stretch mark. Either way, he wanted to make note of every inch of your body, memorizing every way your skin moved or wrinkled, your muscles flexed. He needs the image of you in his mind constantly updated.

-You do the same to him. Collecting every change in his body and adding them to his mental schema.

-When all of your clothes are finally off, and his mate stands before him completely raw, is when he begins to lose control of his mouth.

-"Gods, have you always looked like this?"

-"So warm, so soft."

-"How come every time I see you, I feel like I've spent my entire life blind?"

-His claim of never needing to resort to poetry holds true, but that doesn't mean he isn't damn good at it.

-After minutes and minutes of leaving hickeys, kisses, and indents on each other, so much so that both of your lower stomachs have begun to boil and your lungs are gasping for air, is when Azriel pulls away.

-"Can I?" he asks as he presses his forehead against yours, his hazel eyes glowing and his bulge pressed against your slick. You nod, smiling, and with one last kiss, he slides home.

-And fuck does he go nauseatingly slow.

-Even if you're on top, he ensures you pierce yourself with him with purpose, sliding his dick all the way in, all the way out, and all the way in, over and over and over.

-It was fucking heaven how well he fit in you, how he got you so wet you didn't even need to try, how deep his dick goes inside of you...

-...and how he has no qualms about never shutting the fuck up.

-Especially when you're on top - the view of you sliding him in and out of you, your body fully open to him to admire, and face at his disposal to kiss and whisper into.

-"My mate, oh my mate."

-"Right there, do you feel that? Fuck you take me so well."

-"My gods look at us, look at me in you."

-"You like that? Right there? I fucking love you. My mate. My love. My soul."

-As I said, poetry.

-One thing he never fails to take advantage of is the full-length mirror leaning against your wall, giving the both of you the perfect menu of angles to view yourselves.

-I think you know where this is going.

-"Look at us, baby. Look at us."

-"You're so fucking beautiful."

-"Look at yourself when you take me inside you."

-He goes on and on, drunk on the feeling of you, diminishing him of any sort of filter.

-I cannot imagine any reason you would want to shut up the most private, silent male in all of Prythian while he's sprouting sweet nothings to you, but if you do, there's one surefire way to do it.

-Reaching out your pointer and middle finger, only two fingers are necessary, and tracing thin lines down the veins in his wings.

-Never will you ever see him go so silent so quickly. His cheeks instantly redden and his voice escapes him. His cock begins to twitch inside you, his grip on either you or the sheets becomes so fierce his scarred knuckles turn a milk white, and his mouth falls open.'

-He becomes immediately and totally helpless.

-The two of you begin to fuck harder then, chasing the high the both of you are so close to, fucking into each other faster and faster and faster until finally you are coming on his cock, and he is spraying across your thighs.

-Finding release with a mate is different than any other - it is blinding, hot, and immeasurably pleasurable. It fills every vein in your body with a molten rapture, forcing you to collapse into his body, and his own to collapse onto yours. The bond within both of your chests throbbing in delight like a second heartbeat.

-After a few moments of you practically regaining consciousness, his warm, sweat covered body begins to move against you, making sure your head is comfortable on a pillow and your body is flat. He then presses kisses all across your face, etching a smile onto your face.

-"I still believe," he whispers against your temple, "that I will never get enough. I love you I love you I love you."

-The smell of sex and sweat vanquishes your nostrils as you stand up and head to the bathroom, Az's eyes burning holes through your skin.

-By the time you return, Azriel's arms are open to you, and you tuck yourself in. He holds you impossibly close, his miniscule chest hair rubbing against your cheek. His wings add a second layer of protection.

-Your body begins to fade, but your mind lingers a little longer to process one final statement whispered into your hair.

-"Gods, never allow me to be parted from her."

Taglist: (if you would like to be added please let me know!)

@leahkenobi @notquitehero @lovelyladymayyy@seraphqueen @em---r @azaideen @katiebellf @llovelydove @tinasbookishlife @xxpeachyxo @evlyncelia @icarusave @forever-paramore28 @peachyxlynch @feyretopia @wingedmiken @moonslattes @hollyismentallyillhelp @esposadomd @redhighlady @bsenpai-blog @buttercake2234 @perssepeony @whor-3-crux @avengerswhre @mystic-sculptorture @wolfyland7 @are-y0u-serious-blog @hilism @tooobsessedsstuff @simplysensual @hernameispa @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @i-am-fascinated @seraphimluxe @just-living5 @saphiraprince22 @azsazz @thatonespriteobsessedbitch @moisyinfluencerstrawberry @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @azsazz

#azriel x oc #huge azz #azriel smut #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf fanfiction #sjm books #crescent city #throne of glass imagines #cassian fanfic

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eustasskidagenda · 7 months

Note

Hello and I hope you’re doing great. Can you do some headcanons for Kidd, Doflamingo, Law, Sanji and Zoro having their nails painted by their s/o ? Like if they would accept or not and how they would act. I hope my request is okay and comprehensible, English isn’t my first language :) Thx!!

☆Kid, Doflamingo, Law, Sanji & Zoro having their nails painted by their s/o

Hello anon! Don't worry, it was perfectly understandable and English isn't my first language as well, so everything is fine ♡ Tysm for your request, it was a fun one! Hope it will match your expectations ☆

CW : g/n reader, funny, fluff, kid is an idiot but I love him, really but really slight n/sfw for Doflamingo, a bit of n/sfw at the end for Kid, word "blood" used for Kid, cursing on Kid and Zoro part, French used on Sanji part because I love when Sanji talks in French ugh.

WC : around 1,890

Kid

Have you seen him? Always with a manicure on top.

Kid is a punk, of course he likes having his nails all done, especially in a beautiful red color, like the blood of his enemies. But he is no longer capable of doing his own nails after losing his arm. He frequently asks Killer, but this time you must handle this daunting task. So good luck.

Beware, Kid is a freak with his nails. He has all the necessary tools for a flawless manicure. So first thing first, you have to use a cuticle pusher. Go ahead, he's closely watching. Do not dare mess with his nails, being a punk is a whole lifestyle and his nails and make-up have to be perfect, otherwise he's pissed off for the entire day.

You must also use the nail file. He will be furious if some nails are not cut well or are not the same length. His hand needs to be perfect for doing some angry punk stuff.

"Oh, Y/N, what the fuck are you doing? Don't put the color first; use the base. Don't you know nothing about nail art?"

Heavy sighs. His feet stomped. Sigh again. He just can't stay still for more than 5 minutes straight.

He would probably snarl at you and closely watch what you're doing with his hand. Don't dare put polish on his fingers, or you'll have to clean it.

Fidgeting the whole damn time, he's becoming increasingly annoyed. He's so impatient. Would end up laying on the table, head against the wood, with his hand on yours, sighing and growling stuff like "you're really shit at this" and "hmpf, y/n, don't use multiple layers, it makes some ugly relief, do I really have to teach you everything?".

Yes, he's a beauty influencer with his nails and makeup.

"I could do better, even with my prosthesis hand."

He stares at you impatiently all the time.

He's feeling low-key annoyed because he used to do his nails himself, but now he has to depend on Killer or you.

"Ugh, y/n, use the top coat. Don't you know nothing about nail art?"

The angry red tulip would probably say, 'ugh, you and Killer are so slow' and 'don't let the bottle open, nail polish is expensive'.

He is cheeky because he stole all of his make-up and manicure supplies.

Once everything is done, he would take a close look at your work and eventually growl, 'Yeah, I guess it will work'.

In fact, he's thanking you. In return, he offers a flawless manicure for you, and he excels at it even with just one hand. He deserves praise because his work is mesmerizing, right? Right? RIGHT?

NSFW bonus: And later in the bedroom, I guess Kid would be the kind of guy to wrap his manicured hand around your neck, like "what a beautiful collar you got there" while he slides his cock in and out of you.

Doflamingo

As soon as he heard your request, he gave an evil smile. You want to paint his nails? Fine, go ahead. But, do you really believe that someone as manipulative as him would say yes without having an idea in mind? You fool.

He would act all innocent, just nodding and letting you grab all your stuff.

Either paint his nails pink or leave them alone.

Watching your small hand in his would be a delight for him. He thinks it makes you adorable.

You're feeling nervous because he's closely watching you through his glasses. Even more when his grin pops out again. "So, if you overflow, you know I'll have to punish you?" He smirks, staying still as you frown. Oh, you're not really afraid. Doflamingo punishments are... something, to be honest. But you want to do his nails perfectly, so now you're even more focused.

Doflamingo would take note of how often you frown and concentrate on his nails. Your work is truly perfect. The pink matches his coat perfectly. But he's a bit angry because he intends to have fun with you.

He would use his devil fruit in a sneaky way to make you fail. Something really small, but enough to make your finger slip and miss the spot.

"Y/N, you were so close, it's a shame. My nails are now completely ruined. Do you want me to look foolish in front of others? I have to teach you some manners... you little brat..."

Let's assume that you are okay with being punished more frequently.

Law

"Y/N-ya, one day, I'll study your brain"

A lot of mumbles. Why do you feel the need to paint his nails? He is too busy and stressed to dedicate time to this. He is always planning mischief or taking care of his patients. Why would he sit and stay still while you're painting his poor nails? Leave him alone.

Wet puppy eyes would make him sigh heavily. "Fine."

Of course, black polish.

He may be annoyed, but he's also a teaser, so he might try to cause you trouble just to see you shake and miss your mark.

He would secretly enjoy this intimate moment with you. The warmth of your hand, your satisfied smile, and how focused you are on your task. You’re just so beautiful and attractive.

"What's top coat? You forgot it in the bedroom? Room, shambles. Here's the topcoat."

He would try to make the moment last longer, like slightly moving so you have to stop from time to time and wait for him to stay still again.

After it's finished, he would pay close attention. "Nice job."

Fortunately, he's intelligent enough to wait until the polish is completely dry before touching it. To be honest, he is pleased with the outcome. The black color matches his tattoo, and it's a small present from you. When he's alone and working late, he would look lovingly at his nails, thinking about you. He has a soft spot, but he hates showing it in front of you. He hates showing his weakness. Even if he trusts you, a part of him is traumatized and doesn't want to show that he's just a normal human with failures and weaknesses.

Low-key trying to keep his manicure as long as possible, trying to use his hands less often than usual, refusing to cook, etc., and he's kind of sad when it starts to flake.

Zoro

Poor marimo is totally confused. Like… painting his nails? What does it mean? His nails are too narrow to be painted on. Does his body resemble a canvas? Are you actually talking about a manicure? Oh. Anyway… Why him? Come on, he's really annoyed.

He's a serious guy, so why does he have his nails painted? "Do you really hate me so much to ask such a stupid thing?"

"Lemme sleep, y/n, I don't have time for your shit. Luffy would love this shitty idea, just ask him."

A lot of mumbles. He finds it absurd. Do swordsmen use painted nails to fight? Of course not. And Sanji would laugh at him. Ugh, no way. But well, you know Zoro, he would end up accepting because he wants to make you happy.

Totally dead serious and annoyed as you're locked in your room.

"What, you want to paint a cactus? Ugh, go ahead, I'm already way too involved in this mess."

As you begin to paint his nails, there will be a lot of mumbling.

But at least he's totally still and just watching with a neutral face, except when there's a slight blush on his cheeks. He can't handle how adorable you are when you're focused. But he can't handle how stupid he looks with some random cactus on his nails? As a swordsman, he's not as sophisticated as the cook with twirly eyebrows.

"Have you done?" All the cinq minutes with an annoyed tone.

It’s obvious that he would end up sleeping. He's tired and it's taking a lot of time. After finishing his nails, you have to wake him up. After a lot of yawns, he would look at his nails, sigh, and then shrug. "Happy now?"

And as you nod with a cute smile on his face, he gets all embarrassed again.

You'll have to make it later since he has given you a big favor and now you have to return it.

He would be very serious in front of the crew. But mad if the goddamn cook starts to make fun of him. "At least, I'm not a single"

Poor Sanji.

Zoro values hard work and practice. He would notice that you took a lot of time to draw all the cactuses. Until the drawing fades, he will keep the nails.

Sanji

Sanji is a lover of love. If he can do anything for his s/o, then he's the happiest man in the whole universe. But when it comes to his hands, he's always a bit nervous. He takes great care of his hands, always doing self-care to keep them smooth and perfect. His nails are always properly cut and finished.

"Mon amour, je ne sais pas si c'est une bonne idée" (my love, I don't know if it's a good idea)

He really wants to please you, but he's concerned about hurting his hands or possibly contaminating the food while cooking. Reassure him and he'll accept. He's a kind and gentle lover who wants to make you smile no matter what.

Sanji has a sense of style, so he'll request something that matches his attire. Or maybe the color of your eyes, as a small reminder of your mesmerizing beauty? You have the option to choose between two ideas, and he trusts you with the outcome.

He would gaze at you with eyes full of admiration and love, always giving you praise. "Y/N, it's beautiful, je suis si fier de toi" (I'm so proud of you)"

Honestly the best: he stays still, doesn't move his hands or touch the polish while it's drying. Really patient. Heart pounding really fast every time he crosses your gaze. Damn, he loves spending time with you so much.

Once it's all done, he's a bit sad because he wishes it could be last for a whole eternity. He would cherish his manicure and show it proudly to all the crew. And, as a reward and a thank you for the beautiful job, of course, he'll thank you with a good meal, a great drink, a lot of hugs and a sweet kiss.

"Merci, mon amour" (Thank you my love)

While he's cooking, he absolutely loves watching his nails, always laughing quietly with the memory of his lovely moment rooted in his soul.

When the manicure disappears, he would take it off while sobbing the entire time, because he's sad.

Can you re-paint my nails, Y/N?

The sweetest ♡

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hisui-dreamer · 6 months

Note

Okay so we've got headcanons with the twst vices tickling their S/O, now we need the reverse. How do these boys react to getting tickled?

pay attention!

Characters: Vice-dorm Leaders (Trey, Ruggie, Jade, Jamil, Ortho, Rook, Lilia)

Synopsis: When your lover isn't paying attention to you, what better way to get their attention than a tickle attack?

Tags: tickling, fluff, crack(?)

Word count: 2.1k

Notes: wooo the long awaited tickling headcanons!! sorry it took me so long to finish the series hehe, hope you enjoy it!!

Dorm Leader Vers ✧ Part 1 ✧ Masterlist

ticklish rating: 3/10

there's a new dessert Trey has been experimenting with lately, but it hasn't been easy

so recently, he's always got his nose stuck in a recipe book when you're with him

this means less cuddles and affection, which upset you a bit

as he hums in response to your questions and conversation attempts, you start to understand why he was upset the other day

but also, isn't this a perfect time for revenge?

you quietly approach him, trying to stifle your laughter, but really with how focused he was, he probably wouldn't have heard it

your fingers dance over his sides and under his arms, wriggling about to find his weak spots

but instead of laughing, he jumps and shrieks at your attack

"Huh? Woah there! What was that for, sweetcakes?"

you continue trying to find a ticklish spot but his face remains confused, smiling wryly at your antics

oh dear, it turns out he's not ticklish at all???

the recipe book is long forgotten at this point, but now you just want to get a reaction out of him

so begins you trying to tickle all spots that you can think of, while he sits still and watches as you experiment around

you try drawing gentle circles with your finger onto his palm

he lets out a laugh at your soft caresses

!!! HE HAS SENSITIVE HANDS!!!

Trey's eyes widen in surprise as your fingers flutter gently on his palm. His initial confusion is quickly replaced with a soft chuckle and a look of wonder. "Okay, wait, that felt slightly ticklish," he admits.

But he immediately regrets admitting that to you, because the next second you're doubling your efforts to make him laugh. He tries to fend off your tickles, but you're determined to gain his attention.

"Okay, okay, you win!" he gasps between laughs. "I guess I deserved that. You got my attention, all right." He sighs in relief when your fingers pull back, "Now then, will it be better if we study the book together?"

ticklish rating: 9/10

you can't really blame Ruggie for always being busy and not having enough time for you

he's consistently on the move, managing errands and making the most out of every opportunity

but on some days he's just so busy that you can only see glimpses of him or he's just that focused that he can't even see you

unfortunately, today is one of those days

ruggie has zipped past you no less than three times, each time running a different errand, buying Leona lunch, picking dandelions, among other tasks

so by the next time you see him, you've already formulated a plan to get his attention

he's in his PE uniform this time, and once you manage to grab onto his shirt to stop him, you reach out and start tickling him, just like he did to you the other day

Ruggie yelps in surprise and laughter "Wha- It's you- Wait- Shyahahaha! What the-?"

he tries to squirm away but can't help but laugh, especially as you start tickling his ears

his tough exterior melts away into the infectious hyena laughter that you love

thank goodness you attacked him in a secluded area, his pride would've been so hurt otherwise

Ruggie erupts in a burst of laughter, losing his grip on the stack of books he's lugging. His ears perk up, and his tail thrashes excitedly as he attempts to evade your tickling fingers.

He turns to face you with wide grey eyes, a mix of confusion, shock, and amusement on his face. "Hey, what's the big idea?" he grumbles, though there's a playful glint in his eyes that can't be denied.

"Oh jeez, I didn't realise I was that busy..." he mutters with a tinge of guilt. "Alright, meet me in Savanaclaw at 5! I promise I'll make it up to ya!" He says determined. He places a quick peck on your lips, before running off to another task once again.

ticklish rating: 2/10

it's another hectic day in octavinelle, azul has big plans to boost sales through some new marketing tactic

and this of course means that Jade has become incredibly busy with these plans

normally you would greatly enjoy watching your beloved in his business mode, with polite smiles as he greeted customers, effortless smooth gestures as he glided across the room which would melt into genuine, loving glances when he turned to you

but this time, you really did need to talk to him about your new terrarium and how it looked more and more dead by day

but each time, before the question could even escape your lips, another errand in need of the vice-housewarden's help magically appears

so you took the chance to tackle him when he went into the supply closet (knowing he would not appreciate being dishevelled in public), fingers wriggling around his sides to try to make the fearsome eel crumble in laughter

but instead, he's completely silent, just his pair of mismatched eyes wide open, curiously focused on you

a wry smile forms on his face as he says teasingly, "My, I regret to inform you my pearl, but moray eels are immune to tickling,"

you freeze at his words. uh oh

Before you can even react, he swiftly sweeps you off your feet and carries you toward the VIP room. "Oh dear, I've been a terrible lover, haven't I? It appears I'll have to neglect my responsibilities for a bit..." he sighs, his brows knitted with concern. He continues in a hushed tone, leaning in to whisper in your ear, "Though I admit I would prefer to remain by your side as well,"

"Hm...?" He hums, his lips curving into a mischievous smile as you nuzzle into his neck, concealing your face. "Are my kisses ticklish, perhaps?" He pauses, then continues with a teasing tone, "Well, I suppose it's only fair, considering my dearest pearl has initiated an attack as well."

"By all means, I'd like to see you find my ticklish spots. Though you must be prepared, love, there is no deed I would not return," he grins mischievously, thoroughly enjoying how flustered you are.

ticklish rating: 9/10

it's not surprising your lover doesn't always have time for you

ever the dutiful servant, Jamil works every second of his life to serve kalim in every sense of life

it's something you'd long accepted since being in a relationship with him, but you can't deny you find yourself feeling lonely when he prepares feast after feast for scarabia

plus you know he likes it when you're selfish and want to monopolise his attention

you find your beloved standing by a large pot of stew on the stove, unfazed by your presence

you try calling out to him, but he's completely unresponsive Jamil are you okay

you tickle his sides for a bit, trying to gauge a reaction, but he instantly jumps and squeals "AHHHH! WHA-"

whoops turns out he's really ticklish

he relaxes when he sees it's you, and automatically starts leaning onto you, the fatigue weighing his body down

maybe you shouldn't tickle him too much for now

"I'm sorry I've been so busy lately, I just want to make everything perfect for Scarabia," he murmurs, a faint smile gracing his lips as he nuzzles into your embrace. "But I'm so grateful you're here. I missed you too."

"Really? Are you sure you don't mind helping out?" He looks up at you with those warm, expressive eyes, his gratitude evident. "Thanks... I really appreciate it,"

His hands find yours, clasping them gently. He leans his forehead against yours as he whispers, "I promise. I'll make more time for us, I swear."

ticklish rating: ???

Rook can always find beauty in everything and anything, so it's not unusual for him to be distracted

though you sometimes do wish you were the only one he would have his eyes on

but you wouldn't change him for the world, because his delight in even simple details is so infectious you can't help but want to stay by his side and listen to him rant on and on

still, that doesn't stop you from getting jealous of the person at the centre of his attention, mainly from magazines about a certain actor in RSA

so you decided to get his attention by tickling him, because maybe it could surprise your ever-careful hunter?

your fingers lightly danced along his sides, staring as his watchful eyes directed their gaze towards you

"Trickster! Oh dear, I'm quite ticklish!"

...so he says, but he's hardly flinching away from your touch at all

you try shifting your hands to other sensitive areas, but his lips simply curl into an affectionate smile, and he gently clasps your hands

you're not sure if he's lying or not, but you definitely have his attention now

"Oh là là! How daring of you, Trickster! To sneak up on a hunter like myself... Beauté! Your boldness is very attractive!" Rook exclaims, his eyes twinkling teasingly.

"Mon cœur, you always find the most charming ways to capture my attention," Rook says, his voice filled with tenderness. "But if it's my attention you seek, you have it, my darling, always."

"Now, is there something you would like to do in the moment?" he asks, gently planting a soft kiss on the back of your hand. "Personally, I wouldn't mind losing myself in your eyes..."

ticklish rating: 0-7/10

it started off really simple, Ortho was just busy researching new strats for idia to try in a newly released game

but the game was open-world, so there was a lot of information to sift through

so in a light-hearted attempt to get his attention, you tried tickling him

only you forgot he's not ticklish at all

"Huh? What's wrong? Why are tickling me? I'm not ticklish at all," he asks, tilting his head in confusion

you laugh as you explain it's just a fun thing friends do, but you've only made him more interested

he goes back to idia that night, asking him about friends and tickling

sure, big bro's not the best person to ask when it's about friendships, but he tries his best with his anime knowledge

and so ortho now wants a tickle response system so he can simulate being like real friends! and who is idia to deny him

the next day, ortho runs up to you excitedly

"Prefect! Go ahead, tickle me!" Ortho's voice rings out with excitement, his eyes shimmering like a pair of bright stars in the night sky.

Confused, you hesitantly reach out to tickle his sides like you did the day before. He instantly erupts in laughter, "Ahahaha! I'm ticklish now! It's a success!"

"How is it? Doesn't this make me more like a real boy now? We can have tickle flights now!" he exclaims. "My brother is so amazing!"

ticklish rating: 2/10

as much as you loved Lilia, you physically could not love his cooking

though that sentiment could be shared by many, even silver and sebek

so it's not uncommon for you to be called in to distract Lilia from whatever dish he has set his mind on mutilating

whatever distraction you come up with, it must be surprising and fun, he's notorious for brushing aside feeble attempts, determined to perfect his culinary concoctions

so, why not try tickling him?

this time, he's trying to remake a lemon tart he had sampled many years ago in his travels

though you're not sure what's compelling him to add pepper to the lemon curd (to give it more flavour he says...)

but as usual, the recipes aren’t nearly nutritious enough!

as he's scavenging around for 'nutritious ingredients' to add to the mix, you sneak close to him and start your attack, wriggling your fingers at his neck

"Ahaha! My dear, what's the matter?" He laughs gently, turning around to face you

but before you can even react, he's got both you hands pinned above your head, a devilish grin on his face

"Playing such tricks on an old man like me? You youngsters always trying to keep me on my toes, I see." he hums thoughtfully. "Though I suppose this means it's only fair if I return the favour, khehehe..."

His hands dance around your sensitive areas, his eyes keen on your reactions. With a wry, knowing grin, he asks, "Oh? It seems you're quite ticklish here?" A mischievous twinkle dances in his eyes. "Don't complain now, you're the one who tried to attack this poor defenseless fae."

By the time he pulls back, you're gasping for breath. "Now then," he inquired with a soft voice, "what prompted this sudden onslaught, dearest?" His fingers, tender as they grazed your hair, emitted a comforting warmth. "If you wanted my attention, I would have gladly given it to you."

Dorm Leader Vers ✧ Part 1 ✧ Masterlist

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bobgasm · 7 months

Text

good 4 u | b.f

pairing: robert “bob” floyd x f!reader word count: 15,660 [sorry lmao] warnings: angst, heartbroken bob, flirting, slow burn, friends to lovers

prompt: good 4 u | #sourguts writing challenge by @mothdruid

summary: in which bob’s been invited to his ex’s wedding and you volunteer to go as his date

author’s note: this was supposed to be a fake dating au but i scrapped that plan halfway through 😅 hope u enjoy it regardless

oneshot | masterlist

It was like Bob was walking on eggshells around everyone. He knew why they were careful about what they say, and why even Hangman seemed to be taking pity on the heartbroken fool.

They all got the same pristine invitation that he did.

The invitation for Jamie, his ex, and her fiancé’s wedding. It was like a slap in the face, and for a week Phoenix had hidden it from him. She’d intercepted his mail before he could find the crisp white invitation with gold and floral decoration. Perfect penmanship addressing the upcoming wedding, and inviting Bob to celebrate the day.

Because he’d been too kind to say that they couldn’t stay friends when they’d broken up. Because he’d tortured himself with their friendship after their breakup, and suffered in silence when she’d started dating. Plastering on a fake smile and faux enthusiasm when it started getting more serious.

And now they were engaged. And like the good friend Phoenix was, she’d hidden the news as long as she could until Jamie and Hayden had shown up to games’ night flaunting the huge rock on her third finger. Rooster had dragged Bob outside, but Bob had pushed through. He had swallowed his hurt and put on a convincing performance.

One that was deserving of an Oscar, if you asked Rooster. One that had Phoenix casting worried looks at Bob throughout the evening. One that had Fanboy wondering if Bob had ever loved Jamie as much as he’d claimed to.

The wedding invitation hadn’t been intercepted, though several tried. Even Hangman tried to play the diversion, but they’d all been too late. Bob had found the invitation and had gone about his day the best as he could. It wasn’t until the third attempt to distract him that he simply asked outright if they were trying to find the invitation. When no one replied, he nodded and continued with his tasks.

It had been a week of deliberation. A week of people trying to convince him to just throw the invitation away and be done with Jamie for good. A week of hearing his friends whisper about not going in solidarity with him.

But he’d told them they didn’t have to choose. She was their friend too, and he wasn’t going to hold it against them if they wanted to go, even if he didn’t. Though Phoenix knew. She knew he’d decide to go, whether he told everyone otherwise or not.

It was why she planned a spontaneous games night for her birthday. Bob knew what she was trying to do. She was trying to buy time. Make him realise he didn’t need to cling to the memories he had with Jamie, and that he could make new ones. And what better time than her birthday, which her friend Y/N was in town for?

Bob was punctual, like always. He brought a bottle of Phoenix’s favourite liquor and helped finish setting things up. He made polite small talk and appreciated the distraction, but he didn’t want tonight to be a downer. No, it was Phoenix’s birthday! They were supposed to be celebrating! Hell, he even treated himself to a glass of wine when she offered him one before everyone else arrived. He wanted to loosen up and actually enjoy himself for a change, and what better way to do that than alcohol?

Coyote, Fanboy and Rooster were the next to arrive. They all brought games or snacks and drinks. Fanboy was quick to play some music before Hangman arrived and took control, and Bob helped himself to another glass. The only one missing was Payback, who’d said he’d be late, but by the time he finally arrived, Bob had a good buzz on. He was enjoying the banter that came from each game, and even commented some of his own.

“Fanboy, close your eyes.”

They’re playing wavelength, a game Rooster had seen on TikTok. The aim was simple: person A had to guess the number using 5 questions. The questions varied every round, but the person answering the question had to gage their answer off the number.

Say that the number was 7, for example. 10 is the best, and 1 is the worst. If the question was along the lines of “give me a fast food chain,” then the person answering had to give their third favourite place to go. The question could be a colour, or a hiking trail, but the idea was to get person A to guess the number that everyone else knew, based off where person B had ranked their answer to person A’s question. Hence, the name of the game being wavelength, because you’d all be on the same wavelength.

They’d played a practise round so everyone kind of understood how the game should be played, with a lot of clarification needed throughout, but they were there.

Maybe.

And Fanboy was the unlucky first person to try and guess the number.

Bob held up 3 fingers. Everyone nodded in agreement, then Fanboy opened his eyes and tried to think of who to pick on first.

“Coyote, give me an alcoholic drink,” Fanboy requested.

Oh, another thing Bob learnt, if the question had been asked in the previous round, you couldn’t use it for the next two rounds. The hard part was trying to come up with new questions each time.

“Merlot,” Coyote replied, offering no clarification.

The game works best if you have a group of people who know enough about each other to kind of guess where they’d rank their answers. The fun part came from trying not to blurt out the number, as Hangman had learnt in the trial run. A bout of laughter had ensued, and Phoenix was convinced her plan had worked. She just wondered where the hell Y/N had got to.

“Interesting, okay,” Fanboy said. “Bob, give me something you plug in?”

“You’re really scraping the bottom of the barrel with your questions, huh?” Bob teased.

“I panicked and zoned out staring at the cord for the tv,” Fanboy confessed with a laugh of his own.

“Let me think for a second,” Bob told him, sipping his beer.

He couldn’t tell you when he’d moved on to beer, but he didn’t mind it. The wine had been too tart for his liking, but the beer was going down a treat. He felt warm and relaxed, but it was taking a lot of effort not to blurt out the number like Hangman did earlier.

“Hair dryer,” Bob eventually said. There were a few murmurs of agreement at his choice, and while Phoenix tsk’d under her breath, she didn’t put up much of a fight. It’s where person B, in this case Bob, would rank the answer to the question since he was called on.

Fanboy directed his next question at Phoenix. “Give me a flavour of milkshake?”

“You asking me out, Mickey?”

“Keeping my options open.” He winked.

Phoenix laughed. “Banana.”

The next question was for Rooster, who’d just returned from the bathroom. He sat down beside Bob and reached for his beer from the table in front of him.

“Roo, give me a type of candy,” Fanboy requested.

Bob didn’t hear Rooster’s answer because the apartment door flew open and he was faced with you – hair slightly messy and cheeks flushed. Arms carrying more wine and balancing a cake, and he felt floored. Like the breath had been sucked from his lungs and he’d forgotten how to breathe.

“They wrote ‘Happy Birthday Phoebe’!’” You exclaimed, kicking the door shut and placing the cake on the kitchen counter, not that there was much free space for it. Regardless, you didn’t care, you just opened the bottle of wine you still held and took a large swig. “What are we playing?”

“Two steps back, Y/N,” Phoenix said with a laugh.

She used Bob’s knee to push herself to her feet, and her grip helped bring him back to earth. He remembered how to breathe, sucking in a deep breath which Rooster mistook for a wince and cast him a concerned look.

“Your knee acting up?”

“Sharp nails,” he lied.

“Everyone, this is Y/N, she’s come to town for my birthday this weekend,” Phoenix said, taking a moment to introduce everyone by their name. “And I’m sure I can live with a cake that says ‘Phoebe.’”

“We’re playing ‘wavelength,’ have you heard of it?” Rooster asked.

“Only from TikTok,” you said.

“That’s where I learnt it,” he replied, making room beside him so you could sit between himself and Bob.

Bob, who tried to not look like a complete fool as you smiled his way and sat down. Phoenix took her spot on the ground beside Bob’s left leg, but he didn’t miss the slight twitch of her lips before she spoke, “Type of candy, Roo?”

“I said warheads,” Rooster repeated.

You leaned over to Bob and whispered in his ear as Fanboy asked the next question. “What’s the number?” You asked him. At a loss for words, and not wanting to say them or hold three fingers up, he tapped the neck of his beer bottle thrice. An action you followed with your gaze before returning to his eyes once again and smiling. “Thanks, Bob.”

“‘Course,” he mumbled.

He needed another drink, and signaled to Hangman for another beer while he was up. He snagged a few and handed them off before passing one to Bob.

“Who’s driving you home?” He asked.

“Probably sleep on Nix’s couch,” he replied, casting a glance at Phoenix. “That okay?”

“You’re making breakfast in the morning,” she replied easily, clinking her bottle with Y/N’s like some sort of victory.

“Works for me,” Bob replied, thanking Hangman and opening the bottle before taking a sip.

He wished he could focus on the rest of the game, but he was acutely aware of the warmth radiating from your leg that was pressed up against the side of his own that he couldn’t think about anything else. Even through the layers of your jeans and his own pants, he could feel the warmth of your skin. His fingers gripping his beer a little tighter so he didn’t make a fool of himself and rest his hand on your thigh, desperate to feel more.

When Fanboy guessed the number 3 correctly, Coyote called for a round of shots to celebrate. Bob didn’t drink much, but he was down for a round. He needed to feel the warmth of the liquor rather than your leg.

Hangman volunteered to go next. Wavelength was a hit, and so was the round of Tequila shots. Bob felt lightheaded, but he felt relaxed for the first time in a long time. Everyone seemed to notice, too. Keeping an eye on how much he was drinking, making sure he was eating, but still letting him finally let loose a little. It was long overdue, and since he wasn’t driving home…no one was too bothered when he got up to get everyone another round of shots when Hangman guessed the right answer for the latest round of wavelength.

No one knew what to expect from a drunk Bob. They’d hardly ever seen him drink, so to see him actually drunk? He’d lost his shy exterior; shed it like a layer of himself and finally come out of his shell. He was boisterous and chatty, and sang along to whatever song was playing. Whether the song was one from the 80’s, or a newly released one, he was singing.

Then came the dancing.

You watched with curious fascination as he led the majority of the guys in a somewhat choreographed routine. You’d heard that a few of the guys had one specific song they liked to dance to, but according to Phoenix, she and Bob usually sat out and laughed at them. As it turned out, he knew the entire routine, and was now showing them up.

You and Phoenix howled with laughter as Bob and Fanboy slut-dropped, while Rooster fell over his own feet at the unexpected behaviour from Bob. Coyote and Hangman didn’t seem fazed, and continued on like nothing happened.

But it did happen, and you were enjoying every minute of it. Even throwing a few loose ones at the group of guys as their shirts came off. The song changing to fit the whole stripper vibe that the evening had somehow come to.

Bob collapsed on the couch, in the spot between you and Phoenix. Slumping down and closing his eyes while he breathed heavily, a drunk smile on his face.

“This is the most fun I’ve had in a long time,” he confessed. “Happy Birthday, Nix.”

“Thanks, Bob,” she replied with a smile of her own.

“You didn’t want to strip for us, too?” You asked teasingly, looking over at the four men grinding against the air or flossing their shirts between their legs.

“Nah, you couldn’t afford me,” Bob replied, watching you turn your attention back to him. Amusement sparkled in your eyes, while his were hooded, heavy from the alcohol but still watching you as intently as he could.

You registered Phoenix getting up, but Bob had your undivided attention.

“We could find out just how much I’m willing to pay for a private show,” you told him, keeping your tone light. Easy, while still serious. You didn’t want to scare him away.

“Or?”

“Or not,” you said with a shrug, sipping your wine.

You relaxed back into the couch a little, the entire left side of your body pressed up against the right side of his. You swore you could hear his breath catch in his throat as you rested your hand on his thigh, maybe a little higher than you had intended, but it served its purpose.

You’d seen the shy, reserved guy Phoenix had described. He was just as cute as you’d imagined, but once the alcohol had loosened his inhibitions? You wanted to see more. So much more.

That was how you stayed until the song ended and Rooster offered you both another drink. Another round of tequila shots and you were up and singing loudly to the next song. Grabbing Bob’s hand and hauling him to his feet so he could join in with everyone, but it was like he wasn’t present. Not like he had been previously. He seemed to be stuck in his head, and was quick to sit back down once the song was over. Nursing a bottle of beer and picking aimlessly at the label.

“I think he’s hit a wall,” Fanboy commented to Phoenix, and you couldn’t help but overhear as you poured yourself another wine.

“I think you’re right,” she replied. “You guys should head out without us. I’ll stay and make sure he’s okay.”

“It’s your birthday though,” he replied. “You should be coming out with us.”

“Another time, I promise,” she assured him. “Thanks for coming.”

“Of course,” he said, swiftly kissing her cheek. “Save us some cake?”

Fanboy herded the guys out of the apartment with a loud goodbye, and Phoenix shut the door behind them. When she joined you in the kitchen, she offered you a fork and you stood together picking away at the cake you got her. There was a good chunk missing already, but it was too good not to keep eating.

“Is Bob okay?”

Phoenix sighed, “If you ask him, he’ll say ‘yes’ and pretend he’s not falling apart, but he won’t talk about it.”

“Girl problems?” She nodded and you reached for your wine. “Do you think my flirting was the catalyst for his sudden withdrawal tonight?”

Her silence spoke volumes, and you wished it didn’t. Downing the last of your glass while she grabbed the bottle of tequila and sat down beside Bob.

You watched the two of them interact. Nothing was said, but there was mutual understanding. Respect. A comforting hand on his shoulder, a watery smile while he downed the last of his beer and gratefully accepted the bottle of tequila. He’d likely regret it in the morning, but if it helped him tonight? That was all he could think of.

“Room for one more?” You asked tentatively.

“Yeah.” Bob’s voice was thick, like he was trying not to cry.

The more he drank, the higher the likelihood that he’d be unable to help it. Tequila was notorious for making you feel your feelings. You’d know, you had a tendency to drown your sorrows at the bottoms of a bottle on the odd occasion.

“You want to talk about it yet?” Phoenix tried to pry.

Bob drank straight from the bottle of tequila. You shared a look with Phoenix – it was going to be a long night. Deciding to give them some privacy in case Bob didn’t want to talk about what was going on in front of you, you headed for the bathroom. Taking the time to brush your teeth and wash your face before changing into a pair of loose cotton pyjama bottoms and an old tee.

By the time you joined Bob and Phoenix again, they were lying on the floor of the living room, staring up at the ceiling. Phoenix looked over at you and held up the bottle.

“The room was spinning so we laid down. Lie with us,” she said. You took the bottle and downed a large swig before joining them.

“Do you remember the last time we drank tequila like this?” You asked her. “You’d just broken up with Sam, and I was having problems with Evan. We drank a bottle of tequila and you broke up with him for me so we could be single together.”

Phoenix laughed at the memory. “They were assholes.”

“Is Bob’s ex an asshole?” You dared to ask.

“No,” he answered after a moment of silence. “That’s the worst part.”

“She did an asshole thing though,” Phoenix pointed out.

“No, I did. By agreeing to stay friends,” he replied. “You can’t stay friends with an ex or it means you never loved them. I don’t think I loved her, I think I loved the idea of her.”

“How long were you two together?” You asked.

“Almost five years,” he said, reaching for the bottle from your hand and sitting up to take a swig. “Five years and she moves on like it was nothing, then invites me to her fucking wedding.”

He spat the last word like it pained him to say, and it probably did.

“You totally have to go,” you told him. “Show up with a hot date and pretend like those five years meant nothing to you, too. That you’ve moved on and you’re fine, and then never speak to her again.”

“I don’t think that–,”

Bob cut Phoenix off. “You’re right,” he agreed. “Except hot women don’t tend to fall at my feet.”

“Do you want me to trip or something just to prove to you that they do?” You challenged. “You’re hot, Bob.”

Phoenix rolled her eyes but she understood what you were trying to do. “If you want to go to the wedding, you know we’ll all go to support you. No one has sent their RSVP yet because we’re waiting to see what you want to do. And I think Y/N has just proven she’ll more than happily be your date. Think you can pretend to be in love with her for one night?”

“Do I have to answer right now?” Bob asked.

“No.”

“Good, ‘cause I think I’m g’na puke,” he said, shooting to his feet and darting towards the bathroom like a bat out of hell.

Phoenix looked at you as you both heard retching from the bathroom. “Do you think this is a good idea?”

“Bob’s a big boy. He can make that decision for himself,” you answered. “Should probably check on him, though. Make sure he’s not drowning in his own vomit.”

The pair of you headed to the bathroom and found him hunched over, sobbing into the toilet. Phoenix crouched down and rubbed his back soothingly while you leaned against the doorframe.

“She’s not worth your tears, Bob,” Phoenix said softly.

“How does she get to be fine while I’m falling apart?”

Your heart broke as he sobbed again, immediately followed by more retching as he hugged the bowl of the toilet.

“Sometimes we fall in love with people who don’t love us as much as we love them,” you told him after the toilet stopped flushing. “They love us 20% and we shoulder the other 80% because we don’t think that someone can love us more than that. We accept what we think we deserve, then they move on and we’re still hung up on what might’ve been. You deserve more than 20%, Bob.”

Phoenix gave you one of her all-knowing smiles, paired with sad eyes as she knew exactly who you were referencing. You’d been in Bob’s place before, a couple times actually. Moving on to the next person while still harbouring feelings for your ex and pretending that the new person was them. Loving them more than they loved you.

It sucked. Phoenix had picked up the pieces of your broken heart more times than you’d have liked. Now you’d been single the longest you’d ever been, but now you felt like you didn’t need anyone. Sure, company was great for a night or two, but your feelings were always more than the other person’s. You were tired of giving someone your all and not receiving even half of the love you gave them in return.

“It gets better,” you continued, watching him wipe his mouth with a bit of paper before he turned to look at you. “It’s not always this hard. It only seems like the end of the world because she’s engaged and having the life you’d always talked about, right? You’d been talking about getting engaged and having a big wedding, and now she’s experiencing all of that with someone else.”

“I–yeah,” he confessed. “Do you really want to go to this wedding as my date?”

“I wouldn’t have offered to if I didn’t want to go,” you told him. “And if Phoenix and the rest of the guys come along, between us all we can make it fun.”

“Yeah,” Phoenix agreed. “We can be your buffers if you don’t want to talk to her, or if you do then we’ll be there to support you. And carry you home if you get drunk like you are tonight.”

“Okay,” he said, not too sure but then he repeated himself, “okay. I can’t keep torturing myself by seeing her anymore, so it’ll be the last time.”

“Exactly,” both you and Phoenix replied.

Bob woke up to the light streaming through the small gap where the curtains didn’t quite meet. He tried to shield his eyes and go back to sleep, but his mouth was dry and his stomach protested. He downed the water bottle on the coffee table as well as a few aspirin for the headache splitting his skull. Letting it work for a few minutes before he got up and scoured the kitchen to make breakfast.

He knew he drank too much. He knew he ended up crying on the bathroom floor. He knew he’d turned Phoenix’s birthday into a pity party and he felt terrible. Not only that, but he knew he’d likely scared you off. You, Y/N, who’d called him hot and flirted with him early on in the night. You, who’d given him some great advice, but also offered to be his date to his ex’s wedding.

Why would you do that?

Surely you could do better than the heartbroken man he’d become lately.

With a sigh he watched the coffee machine drip coffee into a mug. When it was done, he took a sip before whipping up some pancakes. Personally, Bob thought they were overrated, but he knew Phoenix loved them. It was the least he could do after last night.

He fried some bacon and scrambled some eggs to go along with the pancakes, since that’s what he felt like eating. When he turned around to grab his coffee, you were seated at the breakfast bar already drinking it.

“How’re you feeling this morning?” You asked kindly.

“Would rather not think about it,” he replied, earning a soft laugh from you in response. “Phoenix up yet?”

“She’s awake but not up,” you told him. “I smelt coffee. Sorry for knicking yours.”

“It’s fine,” he assured you, already starting to make another, plus one for Phoenix. “Thanks for last night.”

“We’ve all been there, Bob, don’t sweat it.” You smiled sweetly and he nodded a few times, trying to get his breathing under control. “Smells good out here. I like the view, too.”

Bob suddenly felt underdressed. He’d removed his shirt to sleep and changed into a pair of sweatpants he’d left here a few months ago. He was glad he still had his briefs underneath, otherwise he would’ve felt more exposed than he already did.

“Uhh, you don’t have to flirt with me out of pity, you know that, right?”

“It’s not out of pity, Bob,” you told him. “I said it last night and I’ll say it again, you’re hot. And I’ll keep saying it until you believe me.”

Bob hated that when he blushed it went down his neck and covered the top of his chest. He hated that you could see just how flushed your comments made him. Turning back to the coffee machine, and essentially hiding from you, he dropped some bread in the toaster before making the next coffee.

“If it makes you that uncomfortable, I’ll stop,” you offered kindly.

“No, I just, I don’t get called ‘hot.’ Usually only ‘cute’ or ‘adorable.’”

“You can be ‘hot’ and ‘cute’ at the same time,” you argued lightly, a smile to your tone. “Like right now. You’re all cute and shy about my flirting, but you can cook, so you’re hot.”

“I think I’m following.”

“Good boy,” you praised and Bob felt like he’d been kicked in the chest with the way his breath got caught in his throat. His heart raced and he made a face, like he didn’t hate that, and you grinned as you caught the shock before he tried to keep his expression blank. “When’s the wedding?”

Finally, a safe topic.

Bob cleared his throat before looking at you. “Second weekend in June,” he said. “Are you sure you want to go? With me?”

“I’m sure,” you confirmed. “Do you still want me to go with you?”

“I do,” he said. He held your gaze for a moment before it flickered over your shoulder. “Coffee’s ready, Phoenix!”

“Thank god!” Her reply came a moment later.

You smiled at Bob as he plated the food and set out some more plates and cutlery. Grabbing the syrup for the pancakes and the salt and pepper shakers for the eggs. You started serving yourself while Phoenix slowly joined you, accepting the mug of coffee from Bob as she sat down beside you.

“How’re you feeling this morning, Bob?”

“Better,” he replied. “Sorry about last night.”

“We all fall apart sometimes,” Phoenix responded. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Once breakfast was finished you helped Bob clean up while Phoenix took a shower. You washed while he dried.

“Do you think I could get your number? You know, so we can plan for the wedding?”

“Ask me again without the part about the wedding,” you replied.

“Uhh, can I have your number?”

“Of course,” you said with a smile in his direction. He grabbed his phone from the couch and you rattled off the digits for him. You were glad to see he still hadn’t put a shirt on, but while he was by the couch he quickly changed that.

“I sent you a text so you have my number, too,” he told you, unaware of the small pout on your lips as his chest was no longer visible. But still, you knew what he looked like without a shirt and you were happy about that. “What are your plans for the day?”

“Should probably go see my mom while I’m here, but then I’m driving home this afternoon. You want to meet me for coffee before I go?”

“Yeah, okay,” he agreed, and you saw the blush creep back up on his cheeks.

“Great, around two? You pick the place. I don’t know many good cafés around here.”

“Okay, I’ll text you,” he said. You could hear the smile in his voice. “Will you tell Phoenix I said thanks again for last night? I’m gonna head out.”

“Yeah, of course. See you later, Bob.”

“See you later.”

By the time Bob was set to meet with you at a small café just after two, he was nervous. He’d been nervous when he’d asked for your number, but he was more nervous now that he had it. He was nervous he was somehow going to make you hate him. Acutely aware that you’d told him to ask for his number without mentioning the wedding, so wondering what the fuck you’d even talk about in the meantime.

He blew out a breath and pushed open the door to the café. It was a quaint place with artwork on the walls done by a few local artists. If you saw something you liked, you could buy it. Bob had two small pieces in his collection already, and the staff knew him well.

He came in a few times a week and ordered a pot of green tea while he read a book. Today, however, he didn’t have a book with him and definitely seemed antsy.

“Your usual, Bob?” The barista, Marcy, asked him with a friendly smile.

“Uh, yeah, and a couple of menus, please,” he replied, thanking her for the menus before taking a seat at his favourite spot by the window. It gave him a good natural light to read, but also allowed him to people-watch.

You breezed through the door a second later, smiling as your eyes found Bob and he rose to give you a small hug.

“Hey, you look like you got a bit more sleep,” you observed, taking a seat opposite him.

“I did, yeah,” he said with a chuckle. “How was your mom?”

“She’s good, thank you. Told me I have to come back and visit more often, and now that I only live an hour away I guess I will be back more often.”

“That’s good to know,” he mused.

“What, that I’ll be back?” You teased lightly.

“Well, yeah,” he said with a cough and an awkward rub of the back of his neck. “I guess we have to plan our wedding outfits, right?

“You were doing so well until you mentioned the wedding,” you told him.

“You make me nervous,” he confessed. “I don’t know what else to talk to you about.”

“Okay, that’s an easy fix. Ask me what my favourite colour is, or what made me move away from/back to San Diego,” you supplied, attention being pulled towards the barista who placed a pot of tea on the table in front of Bob.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” She asked you.

“Iced Americano, thank you,” you replied, smiling at her before watching Bob pour himself a cup of tea.

“Why did you move from San Diego?” Bob asked you.

“I grew up here. Felt like I needed to get out and explore for a bit. Applied for a job up in Seattle and was living there for about five years, but it felt like something was missing, you know? So I packed up and moved back to San Diego.”

“Are you glad to be back?”

“Yeah, I am,” you admitted. “I think I missed the community here. It’s just me and my mom now, but it’s so familiar. I can still go to some little mom and pop stores and the owners remember me from when I was a little kid.”

“I get that,” he said. “It’s the same when I go back to Montana. Just feels like you never left, right?”

“Yeah.” You smiled. “I didn’t know you were from Montana. You can hardly hair the drawl.”

“Oh, it’s still there,” he admitted with a laugh. “It’s usually more noticeable when I’m stressed, so Phoenix gives me plenty of shit for it when we land after an exercise or a mission.”

“I’ll bet she does.” You laughed along with him. “What made you join the Navy?”

“I knew I had to get out of Montana. They had a booth at a careers expo when I was in high school. Told me all the great things I could do. Signed up the day I turned eighteen and haven’t looked back,” he said, sipping his tea. “I still go home to Montana when I can. It doesn’t feel like I belong, but it’s nostalgic. It’s home.”

Bob recommended the BLT when your stomach growled, saying it was easily the best sandwich he’d ever had at a café. Apparently they toast the bread a little bit, plus the aioli they add is housemade. It made your mouth salivate just thinking about it.

You both ordered one when your coffee came out, and conversation continued to flow easily. Of course, you continued to flirt a little, but sometimes it wasn’t as obvious. Just enough to see the colour appear on Bob’s cheeks before you moved on.

Bob was sweet, which you already knew. Once he was more comfortable with you, you went back to your teasing and flirting. Sometimes you thought he might’ve even been flirting back, but it was so subtle you weren’t sure.

You talked about your favourite colour, your hobbies, and even what you did for work. It was so easy talking to Bob, it felt like you’d been friends for a long time, rather than having only met the day before.

When it was time to leave, because you had a few errands to run, Bob walked you out to your car. There was a battle for the bill, but since you’d asked him to meet with you, he reluctantly let you pay. Stating that meant he got the next one. Your heart fluttered a little at the promise of seeing him again. That you hadn’t scared him off. And graciously gave him a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek before you left.

By the time you reached the grocery store almost 40 minutes later, you smiled when you checked your phone to find a text from Bob.

I had fun this afternoon. You made me feel normal. Thank you

Any time, Bob, I mean that. I had fun this afternoon too x

Your thumb hovered over the ‘send’ icon, debating whether the kiss was too much. Deciding to send it anyway before getting on with your shopping, a pep to your step and feeling good.

Your week was busy. Your new job was still kicking your ass as you tried to learn everything you needed to know, but you felt fulfilled. Especially since Bob and Phoenix were messaging you several times a day, helping you keep sane.

They were busy training for something they couldn’t exactly talk about, but you knew it was a mission, and most of their team had been called forward. Even though you weren’t able to see them that often, you did spend most of your weekends hanging out at The Hard Deck. Phoenix and Bob had both mentioned that’s where they liked to hang out, and so you’d go there hoping that they’d have a free moment to stop by for a drink.

Sometimes they’d already be there when you arrived, while other times you’d enjoy a drink and text them until they showed up.

You’d even become closer with everyone else, but you had a soft spot for Bob. Most nights you’d talk until you were falling asleep, but not wanting to be the first to say goodnight. Bob would walk you to your car just for an extra few moments alone, you’d kiss his cheek and he’d tell you to text him when you got home so he knew you were safe.

The two times you’d hung out without everyone else had been wonderful. You’d gone to a farmers market one morning, and gone bowling the other time. Keeping it casual and light was easier said than done. You enjoyed spending time with him to the point you almost wished you hadn’t suggested being his date to his ex’s wedding. You wanted to suggest blowing the wedding off, but that felt cruel. He was ready to cut that chapter from his life and he deserved that closure. And you’d be there to see it through.

You’d asked Phoenix what she planned on wearing, but she’d been vague. Telling you to “ask Bob to coordinate your outfits,” each time. And yeah, you knew you should ask him about that, but you enjoyed the fact that he didn’t mention the wedding around you anymore. It would be like taking two steps backwards, but you knew it had to be done. After all, that was why you spent a lot of time together. You couldn’t pretend to be fake dating if you didn’t know the first thing about each other.

So you bit the bullet and fired off a text to Bob.

Hey, I’ve been thinking about what to wear for the wedding. What colour is your suit? I think it’ll be cute if we match x

His reply came moments later.

Haven’t got a suit yet, probably should organise that soon. I could use your opinion if you’re free tomorrow?

Of course, we can meet at the café for breakfast and then go from there. 9am suit you? x

Can’t wait x

You smiled at the kiss he’d added to the end of his text. Then came his next message.

Are you coming to the Hard Deck tonight? x

Got a work dinner that I can’t get out of. I’ll text you when it’s over to see if you’re still there. I might be due for some decent company x

I’ll still be here x

His flirting was more obvious through text, and though you couldn’t see his face, you knew it would be flushed. You also knew just how far down that blush actually went, and spent more time thinking about it than you should’ve while still at work.

You watched the clock throughout the entire dinner. You didn’t want to seem like you had better places to be, even if it was true, but you were acutely aware of the time dragging on. Sure, you made small talk and laughed with everyone, but it wasn’t where you wanted to be. You wanted to be playing pool and drinking with your friends, and Bob.

Bob, who you definitely felt was more than a friend. Bob, who you weren’t entirely sure felt the same way as you did. Bob, who was still shy and nervous around you, but had grown more confident with your flirting. Bob, who flirted back so subtly you were convinced you’d imagined it.

Bob, the cute and awkward guy who stammered over his words sometimes. Bob, who flushed a deep scarlet whenever you touched his arm or kissed his cheek, or even openly flirted with him in front of his friends. Bob, who consumed your waking thoughts.

But you were just friends, right? You were going to be his date to the wedding – even if it was his ex’s wedding, – and you were going to have a good time, damn it. You wanted him to see you, not compare you to his ex. Not use you to get over her.

Bob, who was sweet and funny and cared more for other people than he did himself.

You smiled and gave a few hugs to coworkers who’d been friendly to you and farewelled everyone with a wave. Making a beeline to your car while you typed a quick text to Bob.

On my way, handsome x

See you soon, sweetheart x

Sweetheart. That was new. Obviously you didn’t hate it, but you were excited to tease him about it and see that gorgeous scarlet taint his cheeks and disappear beneath his shirt.

At the Hard Deck, Bob’s excitement was obvious to everyone except him. From the flush of his cheeks to his eyes darting towards the door every ten seconds. They knew who he was waiting for.

“Bob’s got a crush,” Fanboy teased, taking up residence on the stool beside Bob’s.

“So do you, Mickey,” Bob pointed out, picking at the skin of his thumbnail. “You think we don’t see you and Phoenix but we do.”

“At least Tasha knows I have a crush on her,” Fanboy replied, winking at Phoenix just as she took her shot at the ball on the table. And missed. “Better luck next time, Tasha!”

“Shut up, Mick,” she replied, though her tone was light. Flirty. A smile on her face betrayed any hint of lingering animosity behind her words. “Y/N’s on her way, huh, lover boy?”

“Maybe,” Bob said vaguely, though his eyes darting to the door had both Fanboy and Phoenix making kissing noises. “Okay, fine, she told me she’s on her way.”

Mickey wrapped his arm around Bob’s shoulders while Phoenix smiled at the exchange. “We know. You can’t keep your eyes off the door long enough to watch Coyote and Payback kick mine and Hangman’s asses.”

“I’d put money on the reason we’re losing isn’t because of their skill, but your inability to stop eyefucking Fanboy,” Hangman pointed out.

Fanboy laughed while Phoenix rolled her eyes. “Don’t be a sore loser because you’re the only one without a girl tonight.”

Payback and Coyote’s attention had been pulled away from the game by two gorgeous brunette’s. Bob laughed along with Fanboy at Phoenix’s jab, watching her lightly pat Hangman’s shoulder before standing beside Mickey.

“Another drink?” She asked, looking from Mickey to Bob.

Both men nodded and she set off to the bar.

“How do you keep it so light and flirty all the time?” Bob asked Fanboy.

He was probably the only guy who wouldn’t laugh at him for this kind of question, aside from Phoenix. Phoenix was both of your friends, and she’d made it clear she wasn’t going to interfere in anything. You’d just have to talk to each other like adults.

“The truth?” He replied. Bob nodded. “It’s not. She makes me nervous and I say things that make me look like an idiot, but she still smiles at me and flirts to her heart’s content, so I know I can’t have messed up too badly. A confident woman isn’t a bad thing, you just have to keep trying.”

“Thanks, Mick,” Bob said with a grateful smile.

“I mean, we’ve all seen Hangman strike out more times than we can count,” Fanboy continued, dragging Hangman into the firing line. He looked pissed, but Fanboy pressed on. “The key is to adapt. What works with some women, doesn’t work with others. Yeah, rejection sucks, but he doesn’t let it get him down. Besides, she told you that she’s on her way, not Phoenix. She’s only coming to see you, Bob.”

“He’s right,” Hangman pointed out. “Whatever you’re doing is working for her.”

Bob’s eyes darted back to the front door to see you walking towards the bar, smiling at Phoenix. He couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face as he watched you two embrace.

“You got it bad, Bob,” Hangman said, walking away with a laugh.

Yeah, Bob thought, don’t I know it.

You smiled at Bob as you and Phoenix joined the guys, offering the beer to Bob as you sipped your drink. He smiled in thanks, getting up to offer you his stool which you gratefully accepted.

“Why can’t you be like that?” Phoenix asked Fanboy who shrugged.

“Perfectly good seat in my lap,” he replied with a grin.

“How was dinner?” Bob asked you, paying no mind to the two beside you who continued to flirt while they bickered.

“It was good. Glad I’m here now, though,” you told him truthfully, watching the colour darken on his cheeks as he sipped his beer. “Teach me how to play?”

“What’s that?”

“Pool. Teach me how to play?”

You knew how to play, you just wanted to be close to him. Lucky for you, Bob took the bait. Taking your hand and leading you to the pool table, giving you a basic run-down of the game. He racked the balls and set them before offering you a cue and showing you how to hold it. His body pressed against yours as he positioned your hands. Lips brushing your ear as he instructed you to use your back hand to pop the cue out and hit the solid white ball, sending it flying into the triangle of coloured ones down the other end.

“You’re a natural,” he praised, smiling as he took the cue from you and lined up his own shot.

“Maybe you’re just a good teacher,” you countered, leaning against the table and squeezing your chest together just a little. Enough that you saw his gaze flit downwards to your cleavage before he hit his lip and took his shot. You watched the ball he was aiming for miss the pocket.

“That’s cheating,” he pointed out, handing you the cue while you smiled sweetly at him.

“If you’ve got it, flaunt it,” you replied. “Didn’t seem like you had any issue looking.”

“You made it hard not to,” he said, stepping closer to you. “You’re gorgeous, Y/N.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He groaned as you laughed and lined up your shot, looking over your shoulder at him. “You going to help me?”

“Call me ‘handsome’ again and I’ll give you anything you want, sweetheart.”

“You gotta be careful giving women that much power, handsome,” you said, taking the shot as you sent him a wink, hearing the ball sink into one of the pockets. You followed the cue ball around the table before lining up your next shot, peering up at him through your lashes. “A pretty girl might just take advantage of you.”

The back and forth was easy and you chalked that down to the couple of beer’s Bob had before you arrived. You liked when his words seemed to flow without any hesitation or overthinking, but you also liked the nervous babbling. The tripping over his words. Everything that made him him. You weren’t trying to change him, you were trying to help him love himself.

Though that might’ve been easier said than done.

The smile dropped from his face and he lost all expression. He was blank and you couldn’t read him. But you turned around and followed his line of sight, watching a young couple enter the bar. One look at Phoenix told you everything you needed to know – his ex was here with her fiancé.

You walked over to Bob and took his hand. He slowly turned his head to look at you.

“Get me out of here,” he pleaded, voice weak and your heart broke for him. You dragged him out the back entrance into the cool evening air, the sound inside dying out and replaced with the repetitive yet calming sounds of waves crashing against the shore.

You dragged him down to the beach, further from the bar, and sat down in the sand. He continued to hold your hand but said nothing. Deciding not to talk until he was ready to, you enjoyed the warmth of his hand and the calming presence of the ocean.

“I’m sorry, I know this isn’t how you want to be spending your Friday night,” Bob apologised.

“I came here to see you. I don’t care if we’re playing pool or sitting out here in silence,” you told him truthfully, watching a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. “Getting over heartbreak isn’t a simple thing. If it was, we wouldn’t be able to learn and grow.”

“I just…I don’t want you thinking that I’m using you as a rebound or something,” he confessed. “You deserve better than that.”

“Right now,we’re friends who flirt and enjoy hanging out. It doesn’t have to be anything more than that,” you said. “It’s not always going to feel like this, Bob, I promise you. Sometimes all it takes is time, but other times? Other times, all you need is a friend who’s been there and gets it. Phoenix tries, but she hasn’t experienced this kind of heartbreak before. I’m like you, I love hard. Hard enough to make up for the other person’s piss poor efforts.”

“Thank you,” he said. “I know it’s not enough, but thank you.”

“It’s enough, Bob.”

Bob met you at the café early in the morning like you’d planned. After the evening took a turn last night, you’d driven him home before heading back to your place.

Your words had been true. You loved spending time with him, whether you were playing pool or sitting outside. It was his company that mattered the most, not the conversation or activity.

You also revealed more about yourself to him than you’d intended. You hoped he’d picked up on the double meaning of your words – that you loved the other person more than they could love you. Because it was happening all over again. You were falling for someone who was emotionally unavailable.

Bob.

Breakfast was a short affair, but still sweet. The café had became a regular place you two liked to meet at and the staff were lovely. They’d have your drinks ready, even if there was a store full of people because you were both creatures of habit. Bob liked green tea, you like iced black coffee.

With breakfast out of the way, you linked your arm with Bob’s as you walked down the street. Asking him what kind of vibe he was feeling for his suit, only to be met with a blank look.

“It’s summer, Bob, you’ve got to have a colourful suit,” you chastised. “Black is boring. It’s overdone. I think you’d suit a light blue, like a baby blue, but we’ll shop around a bit.”

That’s how he ended up trying on various suits throughout the day. You’d see his attention start to drift, so you’d pack up and drag him into a store while you tried on dresses. He’d sit in the change area waiting patiently, then he’d take his time watching you twirl and pose.

He’d comment on aspects of the dresses he liked, like the neckline or the frills. It wasn’t until one of the workers tried suggesting a dress that he balked at the suggestion and went to find a better one.

He was attentive and complimentative, more so than any boyfriend you’d ever dragged out shopping with you. You wanted to think it was because there was something else building between you, but your heart told you another story. That he only cared because you were his date to his ex’s wedding.

But when he came back with a pale blue number you knew he had a winner before you even tried it on.

“This is the one,” you told him through the curtain. You admired yourself in the mirror and smiled.

“Show me?”

You threw back the curtain and gave him a shy twirl. The dress was soft and flowed around your legs as you twirled on your tiptoes. The material was snug over your chest and could either be worn with the straps or without. You’d opted to tuck them into your bra for the time being.

“You look gorgeous,” he said, voice having dropped an octave as he truly admired you. “You always look gorgeous. I mean, wow.”

You chuckled softly and reached for his arm. “I know. Thank you, Bob.”

You left him to pick his jaw up off the ground and quickly changed back, carrying the dress over your arm. Opening the curtain and placing the dresses you weren’t going to buy on the rack before taking Bob’s hand in yours.

“Will that be cash or card?”

“Card.” Bob handed his card over before you had a second to dig for your own to pay. “It’s on me. Please?”

“Only because you asked nicely,” you replied teasingly, smiling at the cashier as she rang you up and processed Bob’s card. You accepted the bag when it was ready and walked out of the store together after thanking the cashier.

“Now all that’s left is my suit,” Bob mused.

“Should be easy enough. Then we can have a late lunch.”

You didn’t want the day to be over yet. Call it selfish or whatever, but spending time with Bob was the highlight of your week. The more time you spent with him, the more you saw glimpses of the real Bob hidden away from the rest of the world. He could take charge, like he did when he found you the dress. His shell was slowly cracking open and the more you saw, the more you fell for his sweet nature.

Bob smiled at the promise of lunch and you led him back into the store he’d tried on no less than 20 suits earlier in the day. The sales assistant smiled when he saw you both back again, surprised you’d found a dress already.

“We need a suit in this colour, or as close to it as you can,” you told him, showing him the colour of your dress.

He flew around the store picking up suits in various shades of blue, none of which were close to being right. Still, Bob tried on every single one of them to get your opinion.

“You do alterations, right?” You asked the sales assistant. He nodded. “Good. I’ll be back.”

You headed off on a mission. You’d seen a blue suit earlier, but it had been the wrong size so you’d all skipped past it. When you found it, you knew it was going to be two sizes too big, but if the alterations were done right, it would be perfect.

“That’s going to fall off me,” Bob commented.

“You’re not that skinny,” you replied. “I’ve seen your abs. The colour is right, Bob, please?”

“Only because you asked nicely,” he mumbled, throwing your words back at you which only made you laugh.

“Last night you said you’d do anything I’d ask, so get to it, handsome.”

He paused, trying to hide his smile as he accepted the suit, then stuck his tongue out at you. “Cheater.”

“All’s fair in love and wedding attire, or however the saying goes.”

You heard him laughing even with the door to the changing room closed. When he emerged, you signaled for the sales assistant.

“It definitely needs to be taken in, but the colour is definitely the right shade of blue. You have a good eye,” he told you, making you smile as you looked over Bob. “I’ll just grab some pins and then we’ll size you for the alterations.”

“Thank you,” Bob said politely.

“That colour looks so good on you,” you complimented, smoothing your hand down his arm before walking around him in a circle.

“Yeah?”

You smiled at his nervousness bubbling back to the surface. “Yeah. We’re going to look so good together.”

The apples of his cheeks began to pink up at your words. “You think so?”

“I know so.”

The sales assistant made quick work of pinning the suit where it needed to be tailored. Taking in the legs and the hem of the pants. Taking in the sides of the jacket and a little bit of the length, as well as attempting to make the shoulders look smoother. He made Bob turn a few times so he could adjust a few pins as necessary. Happy with his work, he told Bob to be careful while changing out of the pants, since he’d already taken the jacket off.

“Do you have a white dress shirt at home?” You asked Bob through the closed door.

“Yeah, a couple,” he replied.

“Tie?”

“I’m not wearing a tie,” he said firmly. “Ties are for the groom and groomsmen. Since I’m neither, I’m going as casual Bob. Casual Bob has a hot date and will have a few drinks then carve up the dance floor.”

“Remind me to keep you away from the dance floor,” you teased.

“You didn’t have anything wrong with my dancing at Phoenix’s the other weekend,” he pointed out.

“That was a safe space,” you replied. “You were surrounded by people who care about you. Do you really think dancing like a stripper at your ex’s wedding is going to be a good look?”

“You just want me all to yourself,” he deduced, opening the door to find you flustered by his shirtless self.

“I, uhh, what was the question?”

Seeing the roles reversed, that Bob was the confident one to your suddenly nervous self, fuelled him on. He took a step towards you, you took one towards him. Hand reaching out to touch him.

“Hot, fuck.”

You pulled your hand back the second your fingers brushed over his abdomen like you’d been burnt. You’d expected him to laugh, or blush uncontrollably, but he surprised you by cupping your face with one hand while his other settled on your waist.

“Go on a date with me.” His voice was soft and low. Thumb brushing over your cheek, feeling the warmth. “A real date.”

“Okay,” you said softly.

“Dinner tonight? No wedding talk. No talk about our exes. Just us talking like we do. Having fun like we do,” he said.

“What time?”

“Five, I have something else planned besides dinner,” he revealed, smiling as he stroked your cheek one last time.

“Do I get a hint?”

“Bring a jacket,” he told you, and you missed his touch instantly as he took a step back. “And don’t wear heels.”

You dressed casually for your date, unsure what to expect. You paired your jeans with a comfy tee, as well as a warm jacket that you had draped over your arm for the time being. It was still too warm to wear the jacket, so whatever Bob had planned had piqued your interest tenfold.

He picked you up at five sharp, dressed in jeans that had the cuffs rolled, a pair of boots and a white tee with a bomber jacket over top. His usual Navy issued glasses sat perched atop his nose and he gave you a warm smile.

“Well, don’t you look handsome,” you greeted, smiling widely at the man standing in your doorway.

“You’re not supposed to compliment me first,” he chastised playfully, though his flushed cheeks betrayed the confidence shining brightly in his eyes. “You look beautiful, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Bob,” you replied, feeling warmth in your own cheeks.

The two of you set off, Bob’s hand firmly in yours as he led you out to his car. No matter how much you asked, he wasn’t going to tell you what the first stop was.

“It’s a surprise,” he’d said with an all knowing smile. “Don’t give me lip about hating surprises either. I guarantee this is one you’ll like.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I know you,” he’d replied simply, like he was stating a fact.

You thought back to the past conversations you’d had, and what you might’ve revealed about yourself. There was a lot, and there was a good chance he did know you well enough to be able to state that you’d grant an exception to this surprise.

When Bob parked at the marina you cast him a bewildered look. He wasted no time in getting out and rounding the car to open the door for you.

“Ever the gentleman, Bobert,” you teased but there was no malice. There was never any malice. Just adoration for the man whose heart was slowly healing.

“Bobert, huh?”

“You told me you hated Robbie and Bobby,” you pointed out. “Bobert is fun, fresh, and a combination of your name and your nickname. Like it?”

“Don’t hate it,” he replied with a laugh. “C’mon, we’re running late as it is.”

“Are we fishing?” You asked, his hand slipping into yours like it belonged there, and maybe it did.

He held onto your coat as you walked along the boardwalk towards the docks, not giving anything away. There were lots of people milling around, heading towards other boats. Not you two. You weaved your way through the crowds until you arrived at a large tour boat already loaded with tourists.

“So, not fishing?” You asked, taking in the sign above the walkway up to the boat.

The sign read “San Diego Sunset Tours.”

“Not fishing,” Bob confirmed, taking in your excited expression. The way your eyes lit up when you looked at him with the biggest grin on your face that he’d ever seen. “Told you you’d like this surprise.”

“Okay, okay, you’re right,” you replied.

In the many conversations you’d had, you’d told him how even though you’d lived in San Diego almost your entire life, you hadn’t actually been on a boat before. You liked to come down and watch them all go out or come back in, waving to the passengers on board. But you’d never actually experienced it before.

Bob wanted to change that.

He’d planned it long before he’d found the nerve to actually ask you to join him for a date tonight. It took a while to secure a spot, even if he did know one of the owners as a former Naval Captain. They couldn’t play favourites, so he’d waited and waited. Grown more confident and playful around you, and you’d said ‘yes’ when he finally asked you out. He just hadn’t expected you to become so flustered about seeing him without his shirt on.

He gave his name to the check in clerk, who introduced himself as the first mate. Telling you that you were the last to arrive, so to grab a drink and take a seat while they worked on setting sail.

Bob enjoyed your look of utter bewilderment. The childlike awe and unbridled joy radiating from you in tidal waves. It was contagious, and he was happy he’d invoked this kind of reaction from you. That something he did would be a memory you’d always look back on and smile, and it made his chest grow tighter and his heart race a little quicker.

“When did you have time to plan this?” You asked. Bob was in half a mind to lie so as to not come on too strong, but you were here. Through his shyness, through his moments of boldness. You were still here. That had to mean something.

“Been thinking about it since you told me the story of you coming down here every weekend when you were a kid,” he confessed, watching you place a hand over your heart as you gave him a watery smile. “I wanted to make sure you experience it at least once.”

“Thank you,” you said, though words couldn’t portray just how grateful you were. Bob seemed to understand, pulling you against his chest for a hug. Your arms wrapped around his waist, holding him tightly as you enjoyed his warm embrace.

You chose to sit outside to watch the sunset. It wasn’t that cool yet, but you put your jacket on regardless. Not wanting to bother Bob with holding it, even though he didn’t mind, and kept an arm around your shoulders.

It was easy being with Bob. You didn’t feel compelled to fill the silence with mindless babble, because his company set you at ease. He was like a breath of fresh air, comforting and refreshing.

He was everything you never knew you were missing, and when he smiled at you, you knew there was no going back. You’d fallen, and you just hoped he was there to catch you.

Your date with Bob weighed heavily on your mind in the days leading up to the wedding. No one had ever done something so special for you for a first date before, so how could you not think about it?

The tour was amazing. You’d filled your camera roll with a bunch of images of the sunset, of the two of you smiling. A couple had even asked if you’d like them to take a photo of you, and you’d both gratefully accepted.

There were a bunch of you both wrapped in each other’s arms and smiling at the camera, but there were also a few where one or both of you were smiling at each other.

Then there was your favourite photo of all. The sunset was illuminating the sky behind you in a mix of gorgeous reds, oranges and purples. Bob had a hand resting on your lower back, the other cupping your face. Your hands gripped the collar of his jacket and you two had forgotten that pictures were being taken. The look shared between you spoke volumes. Pure adoration for each other shining brightly.

You’d made it your phone lock screen.

Of course, you’d sent a few of the others to Phoenix once Bob had dropped you home after dinner. You’d needed to gush about how much fun you’d had, and how Bob had surprised you with the best first date ever.

It wasn’t until you all met up at the Hard Deck later in the week that she saw what your lock screen image was. Apparently Bob’s was the same, and he’d been dealing with their merciless teasing all week. It brought a new wave of teasing around because apparently Bob hadn’t blushed over his choice of lock screen until it was revealed that yours matched.

You thought that you couldn’t fall any further for him, but it turned out you were wrong.

The two of you slipped outside as the night wore on and more drinks were consumed. Hangman and Rooster were killing it at karaoke, and their voices were drowned out by the lull of the ocean.

You were nestled into Bob’s side, his jacket draped around your back, your head resting in his shoulder. You liked him. It was obvious he liked you too, but you needed to have a conversation. Talk about things like adults, because while the feelings were obviously there, his words stuck in your mind.

“I don’t want you to think I’m using you.”

He’d said it a couple weeks ago. A lot has changed since then. You woke up to good morning texts from him, or would grab dinner or hang out watching a movie in the evenings after work. Your free time had been consumed by him, and while you loved it, you also needed clarification. You needed to know where his mind was at, because it’d been a while since you’d mentioned his ex. He never brought her up, so it was hard to know without being able to read his mind.

“You warm enough, sweetheart?” Bob asked you softly, pressing a soft kiss the top of your head.

You hummed. “Yeah, thank you. Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

You sat in silence for a moment, trying to find the right words. Bob didn’t pressure you, and part of you was glad. “Do you like me the way I like you?”

“What way do you like me?” He asked cautiously.

“More than a friend, handsome,” you said lightly, peering up at him as your heart thundered in your ears.

He chuckled softly. “Yeah, sweetheart. I like you the same way you like me.”

“Okay, good.” You smiled, catching his eye.

He dipped his head, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry if I’ve given you any reason to doubt,” he told you.

“I just needed to be sure, that’s all,” you told him. “There’s been times when I’ve thought you were going to kiss me, but you haven’t.”

“I needed to be sure of my feelings for you before I kissed you for the first time,” he said, hand lightly cupping your face. Thumb brushing over your cheek. “You mean so much to me, sweetheart. I’d never be able to forgive myself if I hurt you because we weren’t on the same page.”

“We’re on the same page now, handsome.”

“Yeah, we are,” he said, tilting your chin so he could capture your lips in a kiss you’d been anticipating for a month.

Finally.

You kissed him back softly, slowly. Savouring the feeling of his mouth against yours and the fire that ignited low in your belly. Your arms finding their way around his neck, fitting against him like you were two pieces of a puzzle that had long awaited their missing piece.

His hand slipped behind your head to cup the base of your skull, fingers winding their way into your hair. Your mouth parted slightly, sucking his bottom lip as a low groan rumbled in his chest.

And then there was the cheering. Bob’s squadron of friends whooping and hollering as they watched the spectacle of your first kiss from the rear entrance of the Hard Deck.

You chuckled against Bob’s lips, drawing him in for another kiss as you flipped them all off. His tongue pressed past your open lips as he deepened the kiss, earning a delicious moan in response.

Neither of you cared about the audience, or that it slowly grew quieter again. The blood rushed in your veins, your body reacting to his touch and you felt hot. Shrugging off his jacket as your fingers tugged at his hair and his grip around your waist tightened.

You were breathing heavily when you parted, Bob’s own breath matching yours as you softly laughed from the bliss of it all and started to smooth back his hair.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” you confessed, voice barely above a whisper.

“Quit stealin’ m’ lines,” he said, voice thick and gravelly even as heat rose to his cheeks.

“Hello, Montana,” you teased, fanning your face with your hand at the sudden tone of the Montana drawl he said only appeared when he was stressed. “Been wondering if your accent also came back when you were turned on.”

“Might be playin’ it up a bit f’ you,” he replied, cocking his head as he smiled and brushed some of your hair back from your face.

You hummed, smiling softly as he dipped his head for another kiss. This one was short but sweet, like he couldn’t help himself and he just had to kiss you again. Like he already missed the feeling of your lips against his and knew you weren’t going to protest.

“You wanna go back inside or stay out here a bit longer?” He asked sweetly.

His gaze flitted to your lips so you kissed him. “I’ll go wherever you go, handsome.”

By the time you were ready to go back inside, because the temperature had dropped a bit more and you noticed the goosebumps on Bob’s arms despite his insistence that he wasn’t cold, your lips were puffy and his hair was a mess. He’d given you his jacket again and walked a little taller with his arm around your waist, guiding you back towards his group of friends.

“You finally resurfaced for air, huh?” Phoenix teased you both, earning a laugh from you as you stole her drink and finished the last of it. Bob simply smiled.

“Another drink?” You asked Bob.

“Please and thank you,” he replied, earning a chorus of groans from his friends. His colleagues. His family. All he did in response was flip them off, grinning as you squeezed his hand before heading off to the bar.

“Treat her well, Floyd.”

Bob met Phoenix’s gaze. The woman, his pilot and someone he considered to be a best friend, wore a hard look. Of course, he knew her well enough at this point to know she was saying it out of loyalty to you, but also for his own benefit. If he hurt her, he knew she’d choose you. As much as she loved and respected him, she wouldn’t hesitate to kick his ass if he made you cry.

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered honestly. “You g’na give her the same talk? Would hate to accuse you of playing favourites.”

“Oh, there’d be some truth to the accusations,” she replied with a laugh. “I’ve had the same talk with her already, Bob.”

At the bar, you greeted Penny with a warm smile. She finished serving the flock of women down the end before making her way over to you.

“Your usual?” She asked.

“And Bob’s,” you replied. She was already cracking open a beer before you’d even said his name. “All knowing bartender you are.”

She laughed. “Just a heads up. His ex is here for her hen’s night,” she told you, gesturing to the group she’d just served. “They’re drunk and up to no good.”

“Uh huh,” you said. It was clear which one was his ex. She wore the tacky ‘Bride to Be’ sash and the other women wore ones that said ‘Bridesmaid’s to Be’.

“Don’t roll your eyes too hard,” Penny warned you with a teasing smile.

“Thanks, Penny,” you told her, taking a sip of your drink. “How much?”

“I changed them for it,” she told you quietly, earning a boisterous laugh in response. She shot you a wink. “They haven’t seen you guys yet, but they’re flapping their jaws.”

“Appreciate the heads up, Penny,” you said honestly.

You’d had a great time tonight and you didn’t want Bob’s ex or her friends to ruin it. Part of you still believed he was hung up on her and you wished it wasn’t true. He’d told you he liked you. You’d seen his behaviour change from someone suffering through life to someone enjoying it. You were part of the reason his behaviour had lifted over the last few weeks.

Squaring your shoulders, you headed towards the group with a huge smile on your face.

“Oh my God, you’re getting married!” You gushed and it was just what the women needed to squeal and fawn over Bob’s ex. You knew her name, you just didn’t want to say it. “Congratulations, you must be so happy!”

“Thank you,” she replied, her answer quipped. “I’m sorry, we’re kind of on a mission to find someone tonight. Do you come here often? Maybe you could help us?”

“I can try my best,” you replied honestly.

“Do you know Bob Floyd?” One of the Bridesmaids asked you.

“Yeah, I know Bob.” You cocked your head. “Why do you need Bob for this mission?”

The women all shared a look and giggled. A different one spoke. “We want him to strip for Jamie. As one last hurrah before she gets married, you know?”

This time you giggled. “Oh, you couldn’t afford him,” you responded, watching the Bride to Be’s face turn from amused to confused, then fall completely. “I’m sure there’s someone here who would be into it, though. Hangman maybe?”

“Jake’s an asshole,” the bride snapped.

“I think he’s a sweetheart. A little misguided, but his heart’s in the right place. Maybe you’re right though, he seems to be loyal to his friends,” you mused, enjoying the discomfort growing on the Bride to Be’s face. “Oh, what do I know? You ladies have fun tonight!”

You breezed off towards the back of the bar where Fanboy and Phoenix had carefully hidden the group, grateful for the large crowd tonight so the group of women couldn’t track where you’d gone.

Fanboy eyed you curiously. He’d had eyes on the whole situation since Penny had sent him a text about the unwanted bridal party’s arrival while you and Bob had been outside. He’d positioned himself in a way that he could be hidden but also see everything.

You gave him a smile before you handed Bob his beer and sat down beside him.

“Your ex and her bridal party are trying to find you so you can strip for them,” you stated. Bob stared at you with his bottle raised halfway to his lips. “Don’t worry, I said they couldn’t afford you and offered Hangman instead.”

There was silence for a beat while everyone awaited Bob’s response. It came in the form of laughter, his arm going around your shoulders and a kiss pressed to your temple. With Bob’s own laughter in the air, the group followed suit. Until Hangman realised what you’d actually said.

“Why’d you offer my services?” He asked you.

“I’ve seen you strip to Pony by Ginuwine,” you stated.

“If I remember correctly, you were too busy flirting with Baby On Board to even notice,” he argued playfully.

“And she still knows I’m better than you, Hangman,” Bob replied in the same teasing manner.

“What can I say? I have taste.”

The kiss Bob gave you had the group groaning at the show of PDA. He didn’t care.

Neither did you.

The day of the wedding rolled around quickly. You were set to get ready with Phoenix and had arrived at her place a little after 10am. Mickey and Bob would pick you up just after two to make your way out. You’d planned to meet everyone just before half three since the ceremony kicked off at four.

You’d had a grueling week at work and didn’t even have the energy to see everyone at the Hard Deck last night. Instead, Bob had come over with dinner and the two of you spent the evening cuddling and making out on your couch like horny teenagers. You’d wished things had gone further, the noises he made ignited a flame inside you. A hot, passionate fire raging deep in your belly that your showerhead couldn’t quite extinguish.

He hadn’t stayed the night. You’d seen how torn he was between deciding whether he should stay or go, so you’d made the decision for him. Sure, you were straddling his lap at the time and grinding yourself against the bulge of his erection, but you’d told him there was no rush. No pressure to take things further if he wasn’t quite ready.

He was achingly ready. Fingertips digging into your hips, your lips ghosting over the shell of his ear and breath hot against his skin as you spoke lowly.

“Every second I have with you is more than I thought I’d ever have, so until you make the first move, this is as far as we go,” you’d said.

“This is so much more fun than going home and getting off with my hand,” he’d replied with a groan.

“But it’s so fucking hot knowing you’re going to jerk off thinking of me,” you’d told him, your core clenching at the thought.

“You g’na get yourself off thinkin’ o’ me, sweetheart?”

“Seems only fair.”

The sounds he’d made had been replaying in your head all night. Nothing you’d tried had been as good at making you cum than the thought of him stroking his cock while thinking of you.

You’d been distracted all morning since you’d been at Phoenix’s getting ready. When she’s tried to ask, you’d brushed it off as nerves for this wedding. She’d hummed skeptically but had given you enough glasses of wine that had you spilling your guts.

Then she’d wished you hadn’t, but you needed to get it out. Needed to tell someone about your frustration in the hopes they’d set you right and tell you what you needed to hear. So she pushed aside her discomfort and did just that.

“You’ve been patient with Bob for almost two months,” she said. “I know you’re on the same page now, but he doesn’t rush things. He’s in his head a lot because his job is to weigh every possible scenario before he acts. He’s never thinking of himself because my ass is on the line, too. That’s what he’ll be doing. Your patience will be rewarded, and I’ll have to mentally brace myself to hear all the details, but he’s so into you, Y/N. Don’t doubt that for a fucking second.”

“I know, I know. I do, believe me. I know I go all in too fast sometimes, so can you just tell me that going slow for once isn’t a bad thing?”

“Going slow isn’t a bad thing,” she repeated, except you believed her whereas telling yourself the same thing felt like a load of shit. “Now do you want lunch or nibbles?”

“Lunch. I need to absorb some of this alcohol before I get in the car for the next two hours.”

You ordered sandwiches from the shop down the street and continued to get ready while you ate. The music got turned up and the vibe was lively. Laughter flowed as you took dance breaks or strutted the fake catwalk. It wasn’t until there was a knock at the door that you realised the time.

Phoenix opened the door for Mickey and Bob and you chugged the last of your wine.

“Don’t you two look dapper?” She greeted your dates with a teasing compliment. “A bow-tie, Mick? Really?”

“See, this is why I needed your opinion,” he countered, greeting her with a hug and a heady kiss. Phoenix was quick to take the tie off and undo the first two buttons of his shirt.

“Hi,” Bob greeted you shyly.

He looked amazing in his suit, like you knew he would. His hair curled at the nape of his neck, evidence that it’d been a while since he’d last cut it, but you didn’t complain. No, you liked the length. You loved to tug it, and that’s what had convinced him to avoid the barber’s for the foreseeable future.

“Hi yourself, handsome,” you replied, sliding your hands up his torso to grab the lapels of his jacket. His hands found your waist as the two of you shared a sweet kiss. You hummed as you parted and wiped away at a speck of lipstick lingering on his lips. “How do I look?”

“Good enough to eat,” he replied lowly.

“I’ll hold you to that,” you teased playfully. He kissed you again, unable to help himself. “Where are you glasses, Bobert?”

“He put contacts in,” Mickey supplied. “Ended up crying because he stabbed himself in the eye while we were driving over here.”

“You hit a pothole,” Bob stated.

“I miss the glasses,” you said with a pout. Bob shared a look with Phoenix and Fanboy who wore identical smiles. “What was that look for?”

“I’ll tell you later,” Bob assured you. You believed him.

The ride to the venue was a blast. You had the windows down, music pumping and shared a bottle of wine with Phoenix and Bob. They’d laughed when you’d grabbed the bottle before leaving, but Bob had a good buzz on and you and Phoenix were on a mission to appear more sober than you actually were.

That proved easier said than done, but at least you had a pair of sunglasses.

You kept half an eye on Bob. He seemed to be in good spirits, but you weren’t sure if it was for show or not. Of course, he did keep you glued to his side, which you didn’t mind. His arm around your waist, helping keep you steady since it was obvious that you and Phoenix had started drinking hours before everyone else.

Shit.

You weren’t complaining about his close proximity. Standing beneath the shade of a nearby tree while you sipped a bottle of water from one hand or a glass of prosecco from your other. Bob and Rooster were chatting to some other people they knew. Friends of Bob’s ex, apparently. You paid some attention to the conversation, but Phoenix was waving you over to where her and Fanboy were.

“I’ll be back, just going to see what Nix wants,” you told Bob, kissing his cheek. He smiled in response, following you towards where the duo sat in front of a few snacks. “What’s up?”

“Mickey thinks we need to eat more,” Phoenix told you, stacking a slice of cheese on a cracker before dipping it in a bowl.

“You almost tripped twice walking over here,” he commented, arm around the back of Nix’s chair.

“You try walking on grass in heels,” you replied, taking a seat and setting your drinks in front of you before picking at a slice of salami.

“She’s right,” Nix agreed. “Lover boy is on his way over.”

“You have separation anxiety or something?” Mickey teased, earning a laugh from Bob.

He took a seat beside you, arm resting on the back of your chair. Copying the duo sitting on the opposite side of the table. “They’re talking about baseball and I couldn’t give a single fuck about it. Better company here, anyway.”

“Charmer,” you teased, slicing some brie to put on a cracker with half of a cherry tomato. He grinned your way as you put the whole thing in your mouth, shaking his head as you struggled to chew it.

“Hungry?”

“They’ve been drinking since ten,” Mickey told him, smiling fondly at Phoenix as she scooped guac onto a chip and shoved it in her mouth.

“Ahh,” Bob replied, swiping your prosecco and finishing it before you could protest. “Finish your water.”

Chat was aimless as you all picked at the snacks on the table. Talking about your job or their training. Making plans for a double date sometime soon. It was easy.

Eventually Hangman and Coyote found you, handing out more prosecco or beer. They talked shit about some of the guests who looked annoyed to even be in attendance, which then started the game of trying to guess who everyone was. Making up stories about them, or names, until you were all in hysterics at Mickey’s description of an older woman.

He’d said her name was Myrtle and she had a turtle, but she was undercover for the CIA because some ex-Russian military – who were the groom’s family, – were here to cause trouble. His exact words were “eliminate everyone in attendance,” but assured you all that Myrtle had it under control.

Payback and Rooster joined you all after hearing your group’s laughter over everything else and immediately got in on the game too.

Your table was the loudest by far. Guests casting disgusted looks your way whenever someone finished their description, starting another round based on who looked the most annoyed. How else were you supposed to pass the time waiting for the ceremony to kick off? Mingling with people you didn’t know and gushing about how happy you were for the soon-to-be-wed couple? Get fucked.

“More drinks?” Hangman asked.

The guys had all hung their jackets over the backs of their chairs. It was hot, and while there was an umbrella covering the table, a few of the guys were still in the sun. Sleeves rolled to their elbows, empty waters on the table in front of them, and occasionally swapping just so no one burned.

There was a chorus of yes’ as he headed inside. The snacks in front of you had been finished for a while, but Rooster had swiped a tray of finger sandwiches which didn’t last long.

Bob had moved his chair closer to you to get out of the sun as it moved in the sky. You didn’t mind at all, especially not when you’d gone to the bathroom and come back to find him in your seat. Taking residence in his lap so you didn’t have to sit in the sun.

He’d pressed the occasional kiss to your shoulder, hand resting low on your hip, the other holding a bottle of water.

“They’re about to start,” Hangman said, arms full of water and a few bottles of beer.

Just as he said that, someone came out to ask everyone to move to the seats set up, or to stand at the back. It was obvious there wasn’t enough seating, so the group opted to stand under one of the trees not too far away. There was no need to be seated, and this way you all could still drink without looking obnoxious.

Mickey poured a bottle of water over Bob’s head, while Rooster and Hangman did the same thing on their own.

Bob wrung some of the water out before standing up and combing his fingers through his hair. You watched his forearms flex with the movement, enraptured by the show and the few droplets that trickled down his face and neck.

He pressed a cold, wet hand to the back of your neck and you almost melted, earning a laugh in response.

“God damn, that’s nice,” you said, closing your eyes for a moment. When they opened again, Bob was smiling before he leaned down and stole a kiss. “That was nicer.”

He chuckled, snaking his arm around your waist. “You’re welcome.”

He pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, much to the dismay of the group. To hell with them, though. You were happy, Bob was happy, and that’s all that mattered.

The music started and you sipped your beer as the bridesmaids slowly made their way down the aisle.

Bob had anticipated this day for years. Except the reality was a stark contrast to what he’d envisioned. When he saw Jamie walking out with her father, he thought he’d feel bitter. He thought he still harboured some resentment towards her for moving on so quickly. For finding happiness with another man. For planning her wedding with someone other than him.

But he didn’t.

He didn’t feel bitter, or even happy. He felt like though the plans he’d had ended up being far different, that he wouldn’t change it for the world. Yeah, he’d struggled with the separation and all of her life changes initially, but now? Now, he felt whole. He felt like he’d found what he’d always been missing. And to think you’d only breezed into his life almost two months ago, and now had become his rock. The person he confided in. The person he wanted to do better for completely took his breath away.

Everything he’d ever wanted was standing in his arms at his ex’s wedding. What the fuck? Bob felt like a fucking idiot. He wished he’d realised it sooner. He wished he’d blown off the whole wedding and taken you on another spectacular date.

It was too late to leave now, but he didn’t want to stay. He wanted to whisk you away and tell you how much of an idiot he was for not acknowledging what was right in front of his face all along.

You.

Yet you smiled and leaned into him as the ceremony wore on. Your smile never once seemed fake, and he knew it was because you were a good person. A better person than he was, anyway. You’d supported him every step of the way. Encouraged him to find comfort in himself. Love himself first. And with that, you’d earned his heart. Words couldn’t even begin to explain it, but whenever you looked at him it was like you knew. You understood him without the need for words.

“If there is anyone who believes this couple should not wed, speak now or forever hold your piece.”

Jamie’s eyes were on Bob. He could see hopefulness, longing, and the evil green-eyed monster; jealousy. His arms were around you and you rested back into his chest. His chin sat atop of your head, and your group all stood with him in solidarity.

He knew you saw the look. She was looking right at the two of you. But still, you were relaxed and content in his embrace, and he didn’t bat an eye.

The rest of the ceremony was concluded and Phoenix audibly exhaled beside him.

“She looked like she was hoping you’d interrupt,” she commented.

“My best guess is that’s why I was invited in the first place,” he admitted. “Especially since Y/N said they were trying to find me to strip for her at her bachelorette party.”

Phoenix hummed. You twisted in Bob’s arms, giving him a proper hug. He tightened his grip without question.

“Hangman, you wanna steal some more beers for the road? I feel like pizza,” Bob said, earning a laugh from Hangman as he slapped Bob’s shoulder.

“Coyote, Payback, let’s roll.”

You all grabbed your things before meeting out the front. Handing over jackets and sunglasses while accepting beer in return. Rooster and Fanboy planned where to meet, and then you were heading off. It was a short trip. Everyone was hungry and needed to eat before the drive back home. Sure, it was only a couple hours, but the heat played a factor in their exhaustion.

Bob took your hand and pulled you aside once you arrived at the pizza joint. Everyone else headed inside, but he needed a minute.

“You okay, sweetheart?” He asked softly.

“I’m so good, handsome,” you told him honestly, smiling proudly. Adoringly. “You okay?”

“The best I’ve been in a long time,” he admitted. “Because I have you. I have someone in my corner who only wants the best for me.”

“Bobert?” He hummed in acknowledgement. “This is the part where you ask me to officially be your girlfriend.”

“Hurry up and ask her so we can eat!” Hollered Rooster from the doorway. You both turned to look at him, only to be met with the faces of everyone closest to you. They all waited expectantly.

“Will you be my girlfriend, sweetheart?”

“I’ll do anything you want me to do, handsome.”

#bob floyd #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd angst #bob floyd fanfiction #SOURGUTS #sourguts writing challenge #*good 4 u #bob floyd fanfic

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dreamwritersworld · 1 year

Text

The perfect child. (Sully family x reader)

Y/n…the perfect child who they say would never burn out…

You see, Y/n was a perfectionist, always striving for her parents approval, always wanting more and she was always told to do everything right. She’s the oldest after all.

Jake was strict on Y/n and Neytiri was very gentle and loving. A mothers love was like no other. Now…Neytiri loved both of her older daughters but there was always something broken between the two…she treated both the same but it couldn’t be said Jake did.

He was encouraging and gentle towards Kiri, it made her learn quicker, faster and stronger. His teachings with his eldest were harder, faster, tiring. In his mind Y/n was supposed already be perfect…that’s all he wanted. Neytiri saw it as him trying to make a monster out of her, someone who would go farther than they could imagine to protect their children…but she was their child as well..? So if he handed off the responsibility to Y/n, she’d take it right off and comfort her.

They have fought many times on the topic of the way he raised the boys and Y/n…she was there for most of the arguments and she always watched from a far blinking away tears.

*flashback*

Earlier that day Y/n and Neteyam were going head to head on who’s the better warrior but Jake had given Neteyam better tasks to ensure he’d succeed more compared to Y/n.

When Neteyam won, Jake ripped into how Y/n had little mistakes. Neytiri pulled him into their home and ripped at him soon after…

“I mean really Jake, Y/n fought her heart out and the only thing you cared about was picking on the little things when she had already done her harder tasks perfectly.”

“Because she always gets frustrated easily if she doesn’t do good, she needs to be perfect otherwise who’s keeping her to be stronger against the world?”

“You put all of her siblings and people against her! That little girl is mortified all the time but you don’t care! How about being a “role model”? I have heard you say to Kiri, to a little nine year old girl, ‘y/n won’t be happy for you. she’s jealous of you’”

“She is! I don’t understand why we argue on this. Y/n turns off immediately when it comes to anyone who had shown they are better and she needs to stop.”

“You have sabotaged our daughter and the rest of the kids! Our children aren’t soldiers and you will not put them against each other!”

“Y/n is talented I’ll give you that but she needs someone to keep her humble and perfect! She is practically the future of this clan and if she makes a mistake the whole clan is going to talk about it."

He wasn’t fully wrong…When Y/n failed it’s either she’d let the frustrated tears fall, or blink them away. However when Y/n finished her challenges her father was the first person she looked for, he would tell her what she still needed to work on. She felt like she needed to hear the truth, that’s what she was always used to.

In hindsight it was very sad for Neytiri to see how desperate Y/n was for her father approval. And it was equally sad to see how desperate Jake was for him to be in control of Y/n and her perfection. He would constantly put Y/n on a pedestal in public knowing it would put more weight on her.

Jake had many ways to make Y/n feel sick, it wasn’t his intentions but it felt that way.

*flashback*

8 year old Y/n was about to sing and dance in front of the clan, she was fully calm while her mother painted her face until Y/n noticed her dad beginning to approach her.

“Hey y/n!”

Y/n walked up to him as well and gave him a hug.

“Are you ready to be the best?”

Y/n swayed back and forth as she felt the nervousness come back up

“…I don’t know”

“Just be good. Don’t worry about anyone else.”

“I won’t! You make me nervous when you say that!”

“Do good!”

“Ok bye!”

Y/n tried to push her father out kindly, feeling overwhelmed.

“Go.”

Y/n gave a nervous smile at what her father slightly rushing her to be good

“You go! Please.”

“Ok I’ll let you go! Do good!”

The young girl walked back and Neytiri can tell the change in her emotions

“Are you alright?”

“Yea!”

Neytiri looked sideways at her daughter to get more answers

“…he just makes me nervous.”

Y/n sat quietly sick to her stomach while Neytiri kept painting feeling the same way her daughter was.

For my loved ones I’d kill and I’d die for them. No hesitation. The nervousness went away once I had to protect and defend..I have…killed before. There was a day where the sky people entered in a forbidden part of the forest one where my siblings weren’t supposed to be.

*flashback*

There was red coming from two of the men I had killed while I turned to my siblings who were probably hidden in the forest. I didn’t hesitate, I had came out as soon as a gun was drawn…my blood ran cold. I called out for them once the coast was clear and when they came out they looked horrified.

“Im so sorry you had to see that. You aren’t supposed to be in this part of the forest you know that, we must leave now.”

They had already radioed my parents when I had finished oh…the look in my mothers eyes broke me.

They had fear. Fear for my siblings and I.

I was covered in red blood, and scars. I couldn’t even focus…I was so scared by what I had just done. My mind couldn’t remember it, I just went blank.

When my father went up to me slowly with a sly smile..

“Y/n you went on to become the greatest child warrior pandora has ever known. No one can match you efficiency, your ruthlessness!”

I felt sick to my stomach…I was only a child.

My mother rushed to hug me comforted me and repeatedly apologized…it wasn’t even her fault.

“Mother it’s ok! Truly, I just did what needed to be done. I handled it well and protected my siblings. ‘My siblings, my responsibility’. I’m fine.”

Y/n held her mother while she cried…Y/n just comforted her mom instead and blinked away her tears.

No one knew how insecure i felt…how disappointed i was in myself. I was unsure if I was even good or bad…I felt like a monster but at the same time I thrived off of the praise my father sent my way for saving my siblings. I didn’t want to play this part but i would all for him. And this week was absolutely the hardest of them all.

*day one*

Lo’ak, Neteyam and I were all training! Yesterday my father had me learn more about healing next to Kiri as one of my tasks however I couldn’t beat her to it, not when my father was watching…piercing his eyes right through me.

Once we were done he lined me up with the boys and told us what needed to be achieved by the end of the week.

“You three are to start spotting next week. I don’t want anyone here that is not focus or achieving what they’re told. If you do good it makes us look better..Y/n you didn’t do as good at healing, you’re sister beat you so you failed. It doesn’t look good for us. Let me ask this question to all of you. How many of you are training when we aren’t together?”

Y/n looked down at her fathers degrading words disappointed that she didn’t beat Kiri. She nodded to her fathers question saying

“I do..”

Jake rolled his eyes and began losing his patience at the child who couldn’t land what she was told right, lately.

“Well…get off your butt, walk over to your grandmother and train for healing instead!”

Y/n immediately looked away blinking away pained tears…she was tired already, just the night before she stayed up training so she could be ready for the harsh week to come.

Jake spoke again..

“That’s your fault!…don’t embarrass me and do it right. Now go back to training.”

Y/n walked away while her two younger brothers watched her, they later had a conversation..

!Away from Y/n!

“Bro did you see how much Y/n wanted to cry? She’s always good at everything, I don’t know why she cries! She’s the favorite!”

“There's always pressure on Y/n, I mean she wants to please our parents. She can't go to training and be anything but perfect."

Lo’ak rolled his eyes at his brothers statement.

“No duh! But cmon bro you got to admit that sometimes Y/n tries too hard for dad’s approval!”

Now it was Neteyam’s turn to roll his eyes

“She’s the eldest, she needs to be perfect. In dad’s eyes she can be fumbling with her future and it’s not looking good for the family if she isn’t perfect.”

*day three*

Since the day before Y/n spent the whole time training with her grandmother Jake made Kiri and her do an actual competition against each other on who can do stitching and healing ointments better.

Kiri was eager to beat the “perfect child” while Y/n was anxious and determined to prove her father that she has gotten better…she has no chance in winning, she was going against someone who only ever trained for healing while Y/n trained for everything in such little time.

Both of the children did well but Kiri ultimately won. Despite the win Y/n hugged Kiri and told her she’s a good healer. Jake hugged Kiri speaking words that Y/n wished was given to her.

“Even if you had the worlds biggest crown I wouldn’t be any Prouder of you than I am right now!”

The eldest child’s heart was left to yearn for her fathers love, inside she was crying for more than just being ignored. If Y/n won she was ok but if she lost she failed at everything. She didn’t understand his game anymore.

*day four*

What Neytiri never knew was how Jake sometimes encouraged Y/n to break Neytiri’s instructions to Y/n. For example when Neytiri noticed her tiredness while Y/n was helping prep food and told her to take a break from training.

Y/n took a break just like Neytiri told her and when Jake walked into the room where Y/n was watching Tuk with small tears falling because she was panicking inside knowing her father would be upset at her.

“Y/n I want to talk to you.”

Y/n got up and walked past her siblings who had heard and felt how upset Jake was at Y/n

“What’s going on? Why were you not at training and then you were crying?”

“I was crying because training is my safe space but I was just tire-“

Jake cut her off while Y/n nervously played with her hands, hold back tears.

“Nu-uh! Every opportunity I have given you, came from my heart. That was awful Y/n. I don’t deserve that, I didn’t deserve any of it. There’s always another kid, there’s always somebody else. We love you. We were ready to work with you and you sat at home!”

Jake’s hurt expression made Y/n feel worse and she began crying at the pain and disappointment she caused.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you get out of our home and tell your mother no I’m going to training!”

“I’m so sorry”

“That’s not going to cut it. It’s gonna take a long time for you to be better.”

When the family was ready to head to bed Neytiri saw Y/n’s bed empty she looked around to see the child sleeping with dried tears in a corner of a cushion where she had previously been watching Tuk. Neytiri shook her head and covered the child with a blanket knowing how stressed Y/n was.

*day five*

The whole family went to a secluded place to do training. Neytiri watched Tuk until she heard Kiri tell her heartbreaking news

“dad won’t refer to Y/n by her name. He keeps calling her ‘that girl’ or ‘her’ or ‘she.”

Neytiri turned her head to face her other children and husband.

“You! Girl in the front move to the center.”

She sighed to her husband’s teaching methods. This was his way of punishing Y/n and making her do more work to make him ‘remember her name’

Neytiri called for a break and pulled Y/n away

“What’s going on my child you don’t see happy”

“He just says girl, he doesn’t even say my name.”

Y/n embraced the hug Neytiri gave her before telling Y/n it’s ok and to go back…this time Neytiri watched from afar.

“you were gone for a day! Not a year.”

Neytiri shakes her head and got up to pull Jake

“Our daughter has a name. She has a name Jake and you better stop holding a grudge.”

Jake came back to the children and began calling Y/n by her name. Neytiri protected her.

*day 7*

Father has had me training all week and all day! I barley get any rest time, in fact I’m currently walking to where we train. It’s safer to say flying with my ikran would not have been a good idea, my tired body would bring me down with her. I was so exhausted and I felt so heavy, my heart was sinking into blackness as well as my eyes. Everything went black as I fell to the floor..

When I had woken up, I was terrified. Not because it was already eclipse or because i had fainted from exhaustion…it was because of my father. I have never done this before and I was supposed to be there to train. I ran my way back home, using up all the little energy I restored and opened my home to see my panicked family.

My father rushed to me and grabbed me by my shoulders searching for any wounds.

“I’m sorry sir, this won’t happen-“

“Damn right it won’t! You know how important training is Y/n. You will be leader of this clan soon! You must act like it. You do not show up late, you don’t act stupid, this is not ok…”

My father words began getting blurry as he yelled in my face about what I should’ve been doing instead and my body began feeling sick once again…I felt like I was drowning and my breaths were getting shorter. I can see my mothers mad face turn into worry as she slightly pushes my dad away from me.

“Y/n what’s wrong?”

I don’t know. I’m unable to speak back and I drop to my knees. My lungs felt closed up and I was struggling to catch a breath. I had tears in my eyes while my mother began talking again

“It’s ok Y/n. You’re ok. I’m here. Breath my child.”

Once my breathing got back to normal my mother allowed me to tell the story and urged me to get checked by grandmother…she didn’t allow my father to keep on yelling at me.

*day 8*

My grandmother explained that I was just having attacks and that I’d be ok! Today the clan had a dancing ceremony, I wasn’t feeling well so I opted out on joining…until my father told the clan that I’d be joining the dance later that night.

I couldn’t say ‘no’. Not when my father talked up my name…I didn’t want to let him down.

The time for me to dance in the ceremony was coming and my nerves were so high..as I was walking to where the crowd can see me I can hear my dad

“Focus.”

“Represent.”

the pressure got worse from then but I pushed it away.

The clan began singing and dancing but I knew all eyes were on me…I was in the center and I felt my breathing feel heavy again…then suddenly I forgot the dance.

My couldn’t hold the fake smile and I ran off to go to the side where no one can see me.

I was begging for anyone to just help me.

“No! No! No! My father is going to freak out on me…I want to go again….I’ve never done this before. Can I please go again? Please!..please! My fathers going to hate me.”

Neytiri rushed to Y/n hugging her and pulling her away from the ceremony and fellow navis who had been there eyes widened to the visibly panicked child.

“My fathers going to hate me!”

“No he’s not Y/n.”

“He’s going to hate me! I’ve never done this…I’ve never done this.”

Neytiri wasn’t fully surprised that Y/n forgot her dance. Jake and her both put way to much pressure on Y/n. She was just 15 years old. Every single week and day she had to do tasks, train and protect everyone. If something wasn’t done correctly Jake would pinch at it all. Neytiri knew when to calm her down but Jake wanted Y/n to be his perfect child…he didn’t care that he was going to burn the kid out.

“I can’t breathe…I can’t breathe.”

Neytiri pulled Y/n down to sit calming her down more before she flew her back to their home.

“y/n you’re having anxiety and your father gets you so nervous. It’s ok. You are safe my child.”

Y/n was so afraid of her father it was killing her inside..Neytiri completely didn’t know what to do. Y/n loved training but her father was beginning to make her hate it. Once everyone arrived home Neytiri sent her and the rest of the kids out to do something. She didn’t fail to notice how Jake went to go up to Y/n and her breath hitched..like she was breathing in her last final breath.

“Go outside and play all of you!”

Neytiri looked at Jake directly in the eyes infuriated.

“We need to talk. You’re incredibly rude to Y/n you need to treat her with more respect.”

“I do! It’s just that when you are in the picture she looks at you.”

“Because she is afraid of you.”

“She goes completely blank. It’s like she’s competing with you and me. She’s a great kid but she looks at you with one eye, and she gets weak.”

“All she does is feel like she fails! You set her up to fail!”

“She’s the greatest her in the division, what do you not understand?”

“You have gone backstage before performances or challenges and have said ‘be like Kiri or Neteyam!’ Who does that to their child?!”

“Why wouldn’t she want to be like them? They are great.”

“Because Y/n doesn’t need to be like them Y/n is Y/n and that is good enough.”

“For who?!”

“For her.”

“Not for you.”

“Yes it it!”

“Then why are you pushing this idea that I set her up to fail?!”

“Because you knew she was sick and you threw her in there and humiliated our daughter.”

“I didn’t humiliate her! She did it herself when she forgot the dance.”

Neytiri couldn’t hear it anymore she began crying.

"Our daughter has been a wreck all week! And now she's having these attacks because she is afraid of you. And Afraid of what you are going to do it her! And you're allowing this with the relationship that you have with our kids and me! And it breaks my heart it is horrible!”

Jake grew silent while he saw his wife break right in front of him…

“I don’t think you get it! She’s tired! Tired of trying to be perfect for everyone, tired of training, tired of doing tasks. You just know the act she puts on! The ‘perfectness’ it’s done. You are hurting our daughter. Our children. Who’s next? Neteyam? Lo’ak? Kiri? You can not keep doing this to our children.”

Tears began falling from Jake’s eyes as he begins replaying old memories of how Y/n was treated…she was just a kid..how could he fix this?..

!💓!

Hope you enjoyed I just did this on the side because I’m trying to get to her stories done but I needed a breather 😊

P.S: Jake manipulating Y/n and isolating her slightly while Y/n didn’t realize really broke me! It was very obvious in the way he made her feel bad about obeying her mothers orders. She felt a lot of pressure and had many panic attacks during her childhood. This was just the first time anyone has seen it because it all became too much. She had such a strong passion for being a fierce warrior but her fathers harsh teachings is making it hard for her to enjoy the ‘hobby’ again. :(

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