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#i like to think it gets awkward at first but then they make up later
vbecker10 · 22 hours
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I Don't Hate You
Pairing: Loki x female reader (y/n)
Summary: You've worked at SHIELD for years and you were severely injured by Loki when he escaped from his cell on the helicarrier. It's been a year since the attack on NY and one day you finally cross paths with Loki after a month of him actively avoiding you.
Warning: Loki being upset, Loki feeling guilty, Loki feeling like he deserves to be hated, brief mentions of Loki's torture, previous injury caused by Loki... this will have a fluffy end, promise 💚
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You shift positions to get more comfortable on the couch then turn the page of your book. I might be able read this whole book tonight, you think excitedly. The Tower was quiet which was a rare occurrence, the whole team decided to go out for drinks so you have the library to yourself. After a moment, you turn the next page but suddenly you feel as if you aren't alone.
Looking up, you see Loki standing in the doorway as if he is frozen with anxiety. He briefly makes eye contact with you and turns to leave.
"Wait," you sit up, closing your book in your lap. "You can stay," you offer and he turns back to face you. "There's plenty of space," you gesture towards the other empty couch.
"I wouldn't want to disturb you," he says, shaking his head as he remains halfway between the hall and the room.
You sigh quietly, that's the first thing he's said to you in the month since you've been back from medical leave. Loki had become almost an expert in avoiding you, the closest you had come to being in the same room with him was during a briefing last week. As soon as you took your seat at the table, he excused himself and left.
He nods in response to your offer to join you but doesn't say anything. He quietly makes his way over to the large bookcases that line the wall and begins to search for a book. You try to focus on where you left off in yours but you can't seem to take your eyes off him. He seems so nervous around you and although you aren't sure what you expected from him, this wasn't it.
He selects a book and walks to the far end of the other couch, glancing towards you as he sits. You both quickly look away from each other and try to settle into your books. After a few minutes of silence he sighs and closes the book. You pretend to continue reading as you watch him return his book and begin the process of selecting one again.
"Can't decide what to read?" you ask after a moment.
He turns, his expression clearing showing that he doesn't expect you to speak to him. He shrugs, "I've read all of these..." He looks at the book he is currently holding, "Some more then a few times."
"Oh," you look at the tall, full shelves. There must be four hundred books in this room. "Wow," you react honestly.
"I read quickly," he offers a simple explanation.
"Why don't you get new ones?" you ask as if the solution is obvious.
He puts the book he is holding away and looks down at the ground, "I'm not permitted to leave the Tower unless its for a mission." He pulls a seemingly random book from the shelf and walks over to the closest seat on the other couch this time.
"Right, I forgot I guess," you suddenly feel awkward for suggesting it.
Loki was given strick orders not to leave the Tower after an incident a few months before you returned from medical leave. He had gone to a small Cafe with his brother in the morning and ended up on the news a few hours later. According to the reports you watched from rehab, he had been on line waiting for his order when a woman who lost her husband during his attack on NYC came in. She walked over to him and started screaming that he was a monster and should be rotting in a cell on whatever planet he came from. Thor tried to defuse the situation while Loki remained completely silent. Her rant finally ended when she threw some bystanders coffee at him and he left.
The two of you sit in silence for a minute then you suddenly get an idea. "Oh," you say and he looks up from the book he has no interest in.
"I think I have something that can help," you tell him. You limp slowly towards him as you unlock your phone. Sitting next to him, you feel self conscious when he shifts away from you, his eyes fixed on the metal brace supporting your leg.
His jaw tightens and his body tenses as he rubs his hands slowly together. You clear your throat, hoping to distract him from your injury and it works. He looks at you, "Here," you hand him your phone.
"What is this?" he asks.
"Its the New York Public Library," you tell him, "Well, their website at least."
He looks at you a bit confused. "What am I supposed to do with this? I'm not allowed to go to the library," he says.
"You don't need to go," you tell him with a smile. "They can bring the books here."
"I wonder why no one told you about this. They've had this for years," you say.
His eyes fill with excitement at the thought of being able to get new books. You explain the book delivery program then show him how to search for books by author, title or genre. His smile spreads as you sign him up for a library card then sit back to watch him scroll through a long list of poets.
The smile leaves his face and he admits, "I never told anyone that I had run out of books."
"Why not?" you ask.
"No one would care," he answers instantly.
When you don't say anything, he looks up from your phone and briefly makes eye contact with you. "I don't understand why you of all people would care enough to help me, to be honest. I have done nothing to deserve even the smallest kindness from you," he says as his eyes fall to your injured leg again. The joy you had seen on his face moments ago has faded completely and in a low voice he says, "I nearly killed you."
With a sigh, he nods, "I remember everyone I've hurt... or killed."
You're caught off guard by the sudden shift in topics but say, "I thought you remembered me."
"Can we just talk for a minute?" you ask, standing with him.
You gently reach out and touch his knee, causing him to jump at the sudden contact. "I'm sorry," he says as soon as you touch him. "I should go," he tells you and he gets up.
He shakes his head. "I'm not supposed to be alone with you," he admits. "Fury wants me as far from my..." he clears his throat, "victims as possible while I am here."
He looks torn about what to do but finally nods and sits down heavily. You sit next to him again but he doesn't look at you, his eyes are fixed on his hands. His knee shakes nervously and you realize he's waiting for you to lash out at him as so many people have in the wake of the attack.
"I- I didn't realize he did that," you say in shock. "I thought you were just avoiding me because of... well because of what happened."
He shrugs but doesn't respond, giving you the feeling that he might still have distanced himself from you even if he wasn't ordered to do so.
You bite your lip and say, "I'm sure Fury means well but... I just want to talk to you. If that's okay with you?"
You had imagined this moment so many times over the last year. What you would say to him and how he would react. You look at him even as he avoids looking at you and say, "I just want to to know, I don't hate you for what happened."
He shakes his head as if he doesn't believe you and says, "You should hate me, everyone does."
"I don't," you tell him simply.
He finally looks at you, a mixture of disbelief and curiosity in his eyes, "How could you not after what I did to you and so many others?"
You sigh and admit, "I used to hate you."
"But... but not anymore?" he asks.
You take a deep breath, this is the part you practiced telling him most often. "When I was in the hospital, I did hate you. I hated you more then I ever thought I could possibly hate another person. I wanted you to feel the pain and fear you inflicted on me when you were escaping. I wanted you to suffer after every surgery, after every fall I had in rehab, after every doctor told me I would never walk without some sort of brace," you tell him honestly and he nods as if he agrees with you.
You pause for a moment and wait for him to look at you again, "It was truly exhausting."
He doesn't say anything but he keeps eye contact with you. "It took so much energy to hate to," you tell him. "It was draining me."
"A few months after my first surgery, I had some of the agents I'm friends with being over your case files and I watched all your news interviews," you continue to explain.
"Why?" he asks, his voice filled with concern.
"I wanted to know if you were as evil as everyone said, if you were really a monster from another world who deserved to be hated," you tell him.
"I am a monster," he says, his eyes lowering to the ground in front of him.
His body tenses as soon as you mention Thanos's name. His eyes widen in fear and he says, "What do you know about- how could you know that? My SHIELD files doesn't contain any information about him."
"No," you tell him, touching his arm lightly and he looks up at you slowly. "You're not a monster, you're a victim of Thanos."
You fidget nervously at his reaction and say, "I... I found the restricted files SHIELD has about you, the ones with your interview-"
He gets up suddenly, his voice laced emotion but you are unsure if he is angry, hurt or embarrassed, "You read that?"
You nod, "I'm sorry-"
"No one was supposed to be able to access that. Fury said it would be sealed, that was why I agreed to tell my brother what happened," he says as he paces. He turns to face you and you can see he is holding back tears, "You shouldn't have read that. I don't want anyone to know what he did to me."
You had read all twenty six pages of the typed transcripts and listened to hours of Loki detailing his torture to Thor. He spoke about being physically hurt but also about being mentally broken by the mad titan. He lost track of time, unsure if weeks, months or years had passed while he was under Thanos's control. By the time you finished listening to his account of what happened, you had lost every ounce of hate you once harbored for him. He was more a victim than anyone.
You take a step towards him and he takes a step back, shaking his head. You reach for his hand and he lets you hold it without pulling away. "Loki," he looks at you, the first tear running down his cheek. "I'm sorry Thanos tortured you," you tell him honestly.
He shakes his head as if he can't accept your words.
You take another step towards him, still holding his hand in yours. "I'm sorry he hurt you," you say again and this time he doesn't move away from you.
"No one..." he tries to take a deep breath, "No one has ever said that to me before."
Now it's your turn to be shocked, "Not even your brother?"
He shakes his head and without thinking, you wrap your arms around him tightly. His whole body stiffens in response at first but slowly, he lifts his arms to hug you back and his body relaxes against yours. He rests his head on your shoulder and you rub his back gently.
You hold him until he slowly pulls away. Taking his hand again, you lead him back to the couch.
"You didn't deserve anything that he did to you," you tell him. When he looks at you, you can't help but raise your hand, wiping a tear from his cheek. He closes his eyes and leans into your soft touch.
He opens his eyes after a moment and quietly says, "Thank you Y/N. I'm so tired of everyone hating me. I never thought anyone would ever try to understand what happened to me."
You smile at him and quickly kiss his cheek, which is a surprise to both of you. "What was that for?" he asks, a small laugh escapes him.
He smiles and nods, "Can you do it again?"
"I don't know," you admit with a nervous giggle, "I just... It felt like something I should do. I'm sorry, was that okay?"
You smile and kiss his cheek again, "Is that making you feeling better?"
"For the first time in a very long time, yes," he says.
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rafesfavgirl · 10 hours
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with a broken heart — r. cameron
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part 1. something a little more lighthearted to make up for breaking y'alls hearts :)
series: every few lifetimes
❝ i was grinning like i'm winning  i was hitting my marks 'cause i can do it with a broken heart ❞
pairing: ex-bf!rafe x fem!reader
context: after getting your heart broken, you pack your bags and leave the obx, only to come face to face with rafe again, eight years later.
words: 2.4k+
warnings: rafe and reader are aged up (26/27), old flames, FLUFF
"now remember, this client's a big prospect," your boss says as you follow him out of the office car and into the building you were scoping out today. "i guarantee if you can close this deal, you'll be well on your way to becoming the next junior partner."
"hank, are you serious?" you stop in your tracks and he looks at you. 
when you first left the outer banks for new york, you went to nyu without a clue on what you wanted to do with the rest of your life. somewhere along the way, you graduated magna cum laude and pursued law school at columbia. your first year, hank took you on as an intern, and by the time you graduated, you had a job lined up for you at one of the biggest real estate agencies in the world. and though you knew how well you did your job, becoming junior partner as a second-year associate was way beyond where you thought you'd be—it was nothing short of a dream come true.
"don't think what you've done for this company has been lost on me, y/n," he tells you. "you're an asset. i knew it since that first summer i took you on as an intern."
a smile comes across your lips. "well, i can't disappoint," you say. "let's close this fucking deal."
"that's what i like to hear, come on," he continues leading you through the building, until the two of you reached a tall guy with a buzzcut wearing a navy blue suit scoping out the place.
"mr. cameron," you don't miss the familiar name when you and your boss stop behind him, your breath hitching when the guy turns around to greet you both. "this is-"
"y/n," your name rolls off rafe's tongue the same way it always did, your heart beating so hard you feared it'd jump out of your chest.
hank's eyes shift between the two of you, as he shakes rafe's hand. "you two know each other?"
"yeah," rafe nods, his eyes set on you—he couldn't believe that you were actually standing in front of him. a part of him thought that when you left the obx he'd never see you again. "we uh— we went to high school together."
"well that's wonderful," hank smiles. "no need for the awkward introduction then."
except— it was awkward. you didn't just go to high school together. you fell in love in high school. and two months before you chose to go to nyu, rafe broke your heart.
"y/n here will be the one walking you through the contract, and hopefully setting you up with one of our best architects," hank explains to him, while you continue trying to process the fact that he was actually here.
what were the odds that he was the client you needed to win over in order to make junior partner? 
"so, does that all sound good to you?" you finish going over the contract for the building and look at rafe.
the two of you hovered over a table in the empty space that you'd spread out all the documents on.
"yeah, y/n, it all sounds great." the smile he throws your way makes your stomach turn in the worst way—making you realize that the piece of your heart that never stopped beating for him still existed. "where do i sign?"
"uh— right here," you pick up your pen to draw x's on all the lines he had to sign on, before holding it out to him.
he takes it from you, and you watch as he leans over to sign on each and everyone of them, your eyes trailing over how well his suit fit him.
he must hit the gym at least four times a week, you thought. he's grown quite a bit since you last saw him.
"there you go," rafe hands the pen back out to you, and you take it from him with a smile.
"thank you," you say. "you won't regret it."
"oh, i know," he nods, eyes scanning over your face. "i'd never regret anything that involves you."
you feel the heat rise on your cheeks, but you keep it professional, gathering the files on the table back into your folder. "well then, i'll leave you with the contacts of our architects and if you have any further questions, you can reach out to hank or any of the other executives."
"yeah, okay," he replies, hiding his disappointment in the fact that you didn't tell him to contact you with any questions he may have.
"it was a pleasure doing business with you, mr. cameron," you hold out a hand to him for a handshake and he stares at it for a second, before reluctantly placing his hand in yours.
"it sure was," he smiles. "but you know you can just call me rafe, don't you?"
"this is how i address all my clients," you tell him. "it's just the professional thing to do."
"yeah, yeah, i get it," he nods. "guess i'm just not used to it coming from you."
you crack a smile at his somewhat nervous stance—you weren't used to seeing him this way. "it was nice to see you again, rafe. good luck with everything."
"yeah," he grins. "you too."
you turn to walk away, while rafe stays back, scratching the back of his head in contemplation before calling out to you. "hey y/n?"
"yeah?" you ask, stopping to look at him again.
"you got any plans tonight?"
"rafe, i-"
"oh, come on," he cuts you off, slowly closing the distance between you two. "there's no reason we can't be friends, right?"
wrong—there were many reasons. one being that you spent years piecing yourself back together after he decided to give up on you. 
"let's catch up," he persists, his blue eyes locking with yours. "get a drink with me tonight."
despite your head screaming no, you agree. "one drink," you say, causing a smile to spread across his face. "ten o'clock. meet me at the bar on fifth."
the second you walk into the bar, rafe rises from his stool at the counter and waves you over. he had gotten there 30 minutes early to make sure you weren't left waiting for him—you'd done enough of that.
"hey," he seems nervous when you reach him, wiping his hands on his slacks before reluctantly wrapping his arms around you in a hug.
you resist the urge to giggle—it was kinda entertaining to see this six-foot-two tall man get nervous around you—and briefly return his hug.
"have you been here long?" you ask, taking off your jacket and taking a seat in the empty stool beside him.
"nah, just about five minutes or so," he lies, shrugging and giving you a lopsided smile, as the bartender walks up to greet you both.
"anything i can get you?" she asks, eyes lingering on rafe for a little longer than you.
"just a glass of whiskey for me," rafe tells her. "neat."
"and i'll just have a glass of pinot noir," you say, when the girl turns to look at you. "thank you."
"and you can just put it on this," rafe reaches into his back pocket for his wallet, and you cut in. "rafe, you don't have to-"
"nonsense," he shakes his head at you and slides his black amex across to the bartender. "i invited you out. it's on me."
the bartender picks up his card, and gives him a smile. "rafe cameron. i'll remember that."
subtly, rafe rolls his eyes and you hold back a snicker. "please don't."
the bartender huffs as her eyes shifts between the two of you, but walks away without another word to get your drinks and charge rafe's card.
you kink a brow at him. "you get bartenders flirting with you a lot?"
"i guess it happens every now and then," he shrugs.
"it's definitely the buzz," you tell him, as a different bartender brings over your drinks and hands rafe back his card.
"thank you," he briefly acknowledges him, before turning his attention back on you, an amused smile on his face. "you think?"
"yeah," you nod, bringing your wine glass up to take a sip. "it makes you look older— more mature. it suits you."
he cracks a smile, a small chuckle slipping out from between his lips. "and being a lawyer suits you."
"you really think so?"
"yeah," he nodded, taking a sip of his whiskey. "you looked so cute all dressed up in your little suit," those words make the heat rise on your cheeks, and you hide it with your wine glass. "i've never seen you more in your element. what made you choose law?"
"well…" you trail off, wondering whether or not you should tell him the truth. oh, fuck it. "after we broke up, i found out got into nyu. i was so… mad and hurt over you ending it that i packed my bags and i left, without looking back. during the summers, i stayed here and worked internships with the school just so i'd have an excuse not to go home."
he listened intently, a look of indifference falling across his features. a part of him was hurt at hearing that he'd broken your heart so badly you felt the need to leave, but the other part was proud. you really did that. figured your shit out and made a life for yourself—just like he always knew you would.
"after my second year, i worked an internship with a property management company in brooklyn. we scoped out places all around the city, and i don't know… i kinda just fell in love with it. seeing how happy people got when we'd found them the right apartment or the right space for them to start their business just made me feel really good. so i declared real estate as my major junior year and decided on law school," you continued.
"doll, that's amazing," he smiled, blue eyes twinkling. "which law school did you go to?"
"columbia," you reply, his eyes only widening in amazement. no words could describe the amount of pride in his chest right now. "but enough about me. what about you?"
"oh— uh…" he started and set his whiskey down on the bar. "after you left, i went to rehab. went in and out of that place for about two or three years… i mean, you knew how bad it was— wasn't easy."
you frown upon hearing his struggles with rehab and relapsing, but nod along as he continues.
"been clean for about four years now though," he shrugs, as if it wasn't some big accomplishment.
"rafe, that's amazing," you tell him, setting your glass down on the bar. "good for you."
"i had to," he nodded. "not only for me, but for dad, too. he was starting to talk business and expanding the company, and i just… i couldn't let him down. especially not after i let you down."
you glance down, no longer being able to meet his eyes. you knew that your past together had to come up at one point, you just weren't ready for it. mainly because even after all this time, there was still that little piece of your heart that never stopped belonging to him. it would always be his. "rafe…"
"i hope i'm not being too forward when i ask you this but…" his hand reaches out to touch yours, and you look up at him. "are you seeing anyone?"
"no, i'm not," you shake your head. "after we broke up, i didn't really date much. and even when i did, nothing ever really stuck."
that was enough to have a smile crack across his his, eyes brighter than you'd seen them in a really long time. "guess that makes two of us."
"guess so," you shrug, thoughts running through your mind a hundred times a minute as you try to find a way to change the subject. you weren't ready for where this conversation was about to go. at least, not yet. "but, uh— tell me about cameron development, how's that going?"
he chuckles at your eagerness to change the subject, as you sipped on your wine, but goes with it. he'd break you down again. eventually.
after finishing your drinks at the bar, rafe offered to walk you home since your apartment was only about a block or two away, assuring you that he'd just get a cab back to his hotel afterward.
and while a part of you screamed at you to say no, that little piece of your heart that still beat for him won over, and you agreed.
"well, this is me," you say, stopping in front of your apartment complex and looking at him. "it was really nice to see you, rafe."
"so that's it?" he asks, catching you off guard. "this just ends here?"
he takes a step towards you, making your heart pitter-patter, as his eyes scanned your face.
"rafe-"
"don't you ever wonder…" he cuts you off, his gaze lingering on your lips for just a moment before his eyes shifted to meet yours. "what we could've been? what we could be?"
"i-"
"i know i fucked shit up with you, a'ight?" he said, hand coming up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.
the gesture threatens to make your eyes flutter close at the feeling of his familiar touch, but you keep your composure.
"i was young and i was stupid, and i thought you deserved better," he continued. "but y/n, there isn't a day that has gone by in the last eight years that you haven't crossed my mind. i think about you all the time, just hoping for the day you'd finally come back to the banks."
your breath hitches at his confession, that tiny piece of your heart that held onto him, growing three sizes.
"i know i don't deserve a second chance, i know that," he told you. "but i'm not the guy i was back in high school. i'm clean now, and i've turned my life around. i can be that guy for you now. the one you needed me to be all those years ago."
"okay," you whisper.
"what?" he musn't have heard you right.
"i'd be lying to myself if i said i haven't thought about you either, rafe," you say.
a small chuckle falls from his lips, which spread into a smile. "seriously?"
you nod. "come pick me up at seven tomorrow. let's give it a chance."
part 3 coming soon!!
i'm rooting for them tbh
reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33
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Practice Makes Perfect
Pairing: Elizabeth Olsen x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~700
Warnings: fluff
Summary: You're working on a movie alongside your celebrity crush, Elizabeth Olsen. Can you overcome your nerves enough to get through it?
Squares Filled: wanda maximoff for @badbitchesbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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Action movies are your specialty. Action movies are what make you comfortable. You like doing your own stunts, getting makeup done to look bloody, and getting your adrenaline going because of how extreme they want you to act. It’s what you’ve always known since all the movies you’ve been in have been action films.
Not this time.
Your agent got you a role in a modern romance film since she thought you’d be perfect for it. You are but that doesn’t mean you don’t know how to act in one. All the action films had a bit of romance to it but nothing like what they‘re asking you to do now. You only accepted because the director is a really good friend of yours and you couldn't turn her down.
Not only are you nervous about being in a romance movie, but you’re even more nervous that you’re acting beside the legendary Wanda Maximoff. Elizabeth Olsen has been your celebrity crush for years and you’re not sure how you’ll be able to film a romance movie with her without freaking out.
Actually, she’s more than just a celebrity crush you have. You’ve met her a few times over the years and she is the sweetest person you’ve ever met. She is shy and reserved but she is down to Earth and genuinely cares about people. She is a good person and that’s hard to find nowadays with celebrities.
You pace back and forth in your trailer with the script in hand for the few scenes you’re going to be acting out later. The director feels like it helps to get all the awkward and uncomfortable scenes out of the way so you don’t have to feel it later on, so the script is nothing but kissing scenes here and touching scenes there.
God, why did you think you can be able to do this? If your costar was anyone else, you wouldn’t have a problem with it. It’s only because it’s her that you do. What if she doesn't like the way you kiss? What if she doesn’t want to kiss you? What if she becomes repulsed by kissing you that she doesn’t want to do the rest of the movie?
Making her feel uncomfortable is the last thing you ever want to do, and you don’t want to ruin what you two have if there is anything there to ruin.
Someone knocks on your trailer door, interrupting your thoughts.
“Who is it?” you ask.
“Lizzie. Can I come in?”
You practically throw the script somewhere in your trailer so it doesn’t look like you’ve been obsessing over it. You lean against the counter in an attempt to look nonchalant.
“Yeah, sure. “ The door opens and Lizzie walks in with a smile on her face. “What’s up?”
“I wanted to talk to you before we head down to set for the day.”
“Oh? What about?”
She looks around the room and sees the script half on the couch and half hanging over it.
“About that. I’m guessing you read most of it if not all?”
“Yeah, I did,” you nod, your resolve fading fast.
“Anything I can do to make it better? I figure we should talk about it so it doesn’t become awkward when we’re actually doing it.”
“I gotta know, are you in a relationship? I know actors who have these scenes are, but I have to know.”
“No, I’m not,” she smiles and walks closer to you. “Are you?”
“No.”
“Good. We got that out of the way.”
“Yeah.” Your breathing picks up the more she comes closer to you. “So, what are we going to do about it?”
“Well, you know the saying, ‘practice makes perfect’?”
“Yeah.”
“I think that applies here, don’t you think? You don’t want either of us messing up and having to redo the scene dozens of times to get it right, right?”
Now that you think about it, it might not be a bad idea until you think of everyone watching you mess up.
“Right,” you whisper.
“Then come here.”
She pulls you in by your belt loops and kisses you softly at first to test the waters. Only when you cup her jaw with both hands does she kiss you a bit harder. Butterflies explode in your stomach from the contact because this is everything you thought it was going to be and more. 
You two don’t need practice because this comes naturally to both of you.
“You give me butterflies,” you whisper against her lips.
“Same here,” she grins.
And that is how you started dating your wife, Elizabeth Chase Olsen.
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Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
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latenightdaydreams · 4 hours
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Haii!
How do we feel about a smut with pornstar reader & pornstar Konig? Like- their comments in their vids/twts/etc. always saying to collab w/ eachother and after awhile, they finally do 👀
-🖤
(Also sorry if I already sent this- I forgot if I did😭)
You didn't! I love the idea of being shipped with Pornstar!König. The Austrian with a monster cock🤤
Pornstar!König x Pornstar!Reader (fem)
MDNI🔞
Master List
>cw: fem/afab, p in v, oral
3.1k word count
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König is famous in the adult film world. During lock down he downloaded Only Fans and ended up making his own account. His striking blue eyes, hidden face mystery, and 6’10 280 lb frame of solid muscles weren’t the only reasons he became so famous; he also has a 10-inch cock the size of most women’s forearms.
You, on the other hand, are a cam girl turned OF girl. You are known by your fan base never being scared of a challenge. You use toys that make people's jaws drop. Your body being strikingly stunning along with a beautiful face and kinky appetite for sex, you blew up quickly on the platform.
Because of the material you make, your fans instantly made you aware of another content creator, König. After about the 100th comment, you decide to go on your X account and check out his page. Instantly you notice the mask covering his face and his blue eyes. His bio gives his height and weight, your jaw drops. You continue to scroll and see a photo he’s recently posted. He’s wearing gray sweatpants with no shirt. His body is stunning, but your eyes drop to the outline of his erection in his pants, his dick literally hanging down his leg. You smirk now, understanding why the fans think you two should film together. You go ahead and give him a follow.
◅  ◃      ▹  ▻
König has also seen the comments. After the first one he instantly looked you up. His eyes shot open when he saw the photo of toys on your profile. Scrolling down a few posts he sees you, and wow. You’re wearing a pink lace thong with your breast fully exposed. You have a sweet smile on your face and you’re standing in a field of wildflowers. You look ethereal. He instantly took notice of you, but contrary to his online persona, he is very socially awkward. He has no idea how to reach out to you, or any girl; that’s why he only posts solo. Then while he is scrolling looking at his feed, he gets a notification. You just followed him.
He quickly sits up and smiles. He clicks your profile and begins to look at all the photos you’ve posted again. His heart rate is picking up, he doesn’t know if he should message you or wait. That’s when your phone chimed and he got the notification that you messaged him.
> “Hey! I’m sure you know of me from your comments 😂, but I’m y/n!”
He reads your message probably ten times before getting the courage to respond to you.
> “Hey, ja, I know you. It’s nice to finally talk.”
He hits send quickly and waits for you to respond. He can feel his heart rate picking up. He hopes that you’re messaging him to make content together. He can feel his excitement rising as his leg bounces waiting for your next message.
You sit feeling nervous yourself as you look down at your phone. He responded so quickly it didn’t give you time to think of a smooth way to ask about a collab. You’ve only ever filmed solo or with women, never a man.
> “I was wondering if you’d be interested in maybe getting together? I see you mostly do solo, so please feel no pressure. I just figured the fans would love it.”
König stands and punches the air like his favorite sports team had just won the big game. Now he just has to act smoothly and not ruin this.
> “I’d love to.”
Both of you do a little celebration dance, feeling excited about the possibility of filming together. You both continue to message back and forth and work out how you’d both meet on account of him being based in Austria, but you both work something out.
◅  ◃      ▹  ▻
One week later you post on your social media accounts a photo of a plane at the airport. The comments explode with assumptions and more tagging of König. During the next few hours, you continue to post your travels while König doesn’t post at all.
That is until he posts a photo of a small feminine hand in his and then you post a bathroom mirror selfie with a man’s large arm around your waist. You sit with König in your Airbnb on the living room sofa, both giggling as people begin to realize the collab is about to happen.
König paid for you to fly to him, picked you up at the airport, and paid for your Airbnb. You knew König was 6’10, but seeing him in person actually blew you away. Plus, he is so sweet. In person, his face remains covered by the mask. You have questions, but you leave it alone.
Your first day together you spend the day going over health, boundaries, safe words, and any questions you might have for each other. Once everything is settled, you both plan to film the next day to allow you to get some rest.
◅  ◃      ▹  ▻
König wakes up early and works out the day of filming. He eats a light breakfast and takes a long shower to help with his nerves. He is excited to have sex with a woman that he knows is very capable of taking someone his size instead of having only the tip of his cock in someone. Getting dressed in sweats and a black shirt, he makes his way to you.
You are currently sitting on the floor in front of a full-length mirror to do your makeup. You just do a light natural look for today. You’re wearing a black silk robe over your nude body with two sets of lingerie set out, waiting to get König’s opinion.
A knock at the door, you jump up and rush to the front door. Smiling, you let König inside and motion for him to follow you to the main bedroom.
“Okay, so I have two options for today and I wanted your input.”
He follows you to see a large king size bed with white lush looking comforters and he feels his nerves spike again. He sees one black lingerie set and then a light pink one that looks like the one from the first photo he ever saw of you.
“Pink, it will look great with your skin tone.” König says looking at you with a soft smile behind his mask.
You grab pink and go to the connected bathroom to get dressed.
König walks around the room and sets up the ring lights and cameras for different angles. He stands looking around and waiting for you. Slowly he takes his shoes off when the bathroom door opens and he gets to see you. He’s seen you naked online, but in person you looked even more perfect. He stands and just looks at you for a while before speaking.
“You look lovely.”
“Thank you,” you can’t help but to find his Austrian accent attractive. “Thanks for setting up too.”
“Oh, it’s not a problem.” König reaches for the hem of his shirt and pulls it off.
Your eyes go over his body and smirk at how attractive he looks. You notice his erection forming as you walk to the bed.
“Do you want to film everything? Like role play and all?” You ask in a soft voice, the tension in the air heavy as you’re both ready now.
“Uh, let's film it all. I’d rather have more to edit from.” And also, because he’d want to watch these moments with you later.
◅  ◃      ▹  ▻
König lifts his mask slightly, the first time his audience will be seeing his sharp jawline and his thin soft lips. His lips meet yours in a tender first kiss as his hands begin to roam over your body. His hand squeezes your breast gently as your lips part and your tongues caress each other’s.
You move your hand down his chest, feeling the small amount of chest hair the covers his chest. His muscles twitch lightly at your touch. His penis now fully erect in his pants as he tastes your lips and feels the touch of your soft skin.
He moves his hands behind your back and begins to unhook your bra. Slipping the straps off your shoulders slowly before pulling it away from your body. He breaks the kiss and gently leans you back on the bed. His lips kiss all over your breasts until he finds one of your nipples. He licks in slow circles around it before closing his lips and sucking lightly. Opening his mouth again he begins to flick his tongue.
You let out a soft moan as your hand reaches for the back of his head, pressing him against you, the fabric of his mask soft. His other hand goes down to your thighs and begins to gently move up them, caressing the soft skin on the inside of your thighs.
He pulls away from your breasts and whispers to you, “Is it okay if I touch?”
“Yeah,” you smile at him asking for consent.
His hand grabs your leg and moves it to where the camera can see everything, He moves the thin fabric of your thong aside and begins to rub his thick fingers between your folds. You’re already wet when he touches you and that excites him knowing you’re so turned on. He moves his lips back to yours as he gently rubs your clit. Small moans leaving your lips, muffled into his. He eventually slips one finger down and pushes it gently into you. He feels the texture of your walls and feels how tight you are. He can only think about shoving himself deep inside of you, but he wants you to get off first.
He moves his kisses from your lips back down to your breast before kissing down your stomach. He moves your leg a little more as he rests his head on your thigh, he kisses your clit before flicking his tongue. Your legs jerk and you sit up to look down at him eating you out. He can’t get over how good you smell and taste. He is surprised you aren’t selling your panties; men would pay big money for this.
“Oh, fuck König,” you moan caressing the side of his face.
König slips in another finger as picks up his pace, as he continues to lick your clit. Hearing you moan his name means that he is on the right path to get you to orgasm for him. Your hand grasps the fabric of his mask, making him smirk before he switches to begin just sucking your clit. Your legs tremble as you drop your head back and lay back down. The sound of your wet cunt gets louder as you cum on his fingers. He keeps going for a while before pulling back.
You lie there panting before you giggle and sit up, “Your tongue is amazing.”
He chuckles and goes in to kiss you, making you taste your sweet pussy on your own lips. You move your hands to his chest before moving down to his cock, pulling back you pull at the waistband of his sweatpants. His heart rate began to pick up. The videos of you deep throating your toys comes into his mind and he gets excited. Lifting his ass, König helps you pull his sweats off of him, boxers as well.
Seeing his cock spring free makes you smile; his cock is as big as some of your toys. König leans back to support himself on his elbows to allow you room but he still wants to watch.
Grasping his dick at the base, you stroke it lightly as you lick the back of his tip. König’s breathing heavy as his blue eyes watch with anticipation. You move your hand and lick from the base all the way up his shaft, back and forth and a few times before finally wrapping your lips around the head of his cock. You begin to suck on the tip and move your head in a fast motion making König moan out. He reaches down and moves some of your hair out of your face.
“Ah, ja, just like that.” His voice shakes as you keep going.
Finally, you lower your head down the length of his shaft. Your full lips wrapping tightly around him as you take his ten inches inch by inch down your throat. König watches in amazement as he has never had a woman be able to take more than half his cock into their throat. He takes a sharp breath before letting a small moan out.
You feel a bit of pride being able to take someone like him, to make him moan like that. You look up at his eyes as you continue to suck his cock.
“Is this okay?” König asks as his hand moves to the back of your head.
“Mmhhmm,” you respond without stopping.
His hand gently guides you motion as the other one is behind him supporting himself. He lets himself enjoy the pleasure of your skills. Gently lifting your face with one hand he brings your lips to his, lifting his mask and kissing you. He wants you fully now.
Pushing your body back without breaking the kiss, his hands caress your body. You both agreed on no condom but to us the pull out method and since both of you are clean. Slowly pulling away from your soft lips he looks down at you and removes your thong, tossing it to the side.
“Are you ready, Schatz?”
“I am.”
“Gut.”
Grabbing you by your hips he drags you forward. He is such a massive man that he can easily move you. You giggle as he does and he responds with a chuckle of his own.
“Your voice is so sweet.” He tells you as he grasps your thigh as pulls one leg back for the camera view again. He rubs himself back and forth over your folds before he begins to push himself into you. His eyes watch your face to watch for pain or discomfort, yet he sees nothing but bliss.
König pushes himself as far in as your tight cunt will take at first. You moan out, grabbing his arm and the bed sheets. Your sweet pussy welcomes him with a warm wet hug and he pushes in more, a moan leaving his lips as you take him.
“You’re so tight, Schatz.” König speaks with a voice dripping with lust. His hips begin to thrust harder into you, letting his desire take over.
Your lips hug his fat cock as he pumps it into you leaving your creamy cum on his cock. He pulls out and stands to grab one of the cameras. He comes back and points it to your pussy as he slides his cock back into you, recording the way your tight cunt can easily stretch for him.
“Look at that beautiful pussy, you truly take cock so well. So fucking tight.” He picked up his pace, holding the camera in place as you reached down and put your own leg back. Your fingers digging into your own flesh as you moan out his name.
“Please König, fuck me.” You look into his eyes begging for him to get you off again.
König returns the gaze as he fucks you harder. The phone picking up the sounds your pussy is making and both of your moans.
“That’s it, cum for me, good girl.”
Your eyes flutter back as your body tenses, your cunt tightening around his cock. He puts the phone down and fucks you through your orgasm letting the other cameras pick it up. His body leaning into yours as your hands move to his back and begin to drag your nails along his pale skin.
“Good girl,” he whispers to you as he lifts his mask slightly to kiss you all over your neck and face. His hands grasp your body tightly as he continues to thrust into you. His balls begin to tighten and he feels the temptation of just cumming deep inside of you, but he can’t.
Quickly König pulls out and grabs the phone again to record. “Come here,” he grabs your hand to pull you up and sits at the edge of the bed. He points the camera down at you as you scoot closer to his cock.
Moving your pillowy lips up and down his cock, sucking as you do. You begin to lick your own wet from his cock.
“Suck it Liebling,” his voice breathy.
You move your mouth to wrap around his cock again. König grabs your hair in his hand to hold your head steady as he begins to buck his hops forward, face fucking you gently. You look up at him, not breaking eye contact as he looks down at you. He moves his 10-inch cock deeper and deeper as he fucks faster. Your eyes begin to water as you close your eyes.
“Open, look at me. Please.” König moans.
Once your eyes open and you look back up at him, he presses your head all the way down. His cock outline is visible in your throat. You gargle on his cock before he pulls it out and begins to jerk off quickly. You open your mouth and hold your breast up waiting for his load.
He cums on you, letting out loud grunts of pleasure as he does. His milky white seed shoots some on your breast, your mouth, but most on your face. He smiles at how beautiful you look covered in him. You play with it a little for the camera before he stops recording.
You both relax on the bed and pant, relaxing. König looks over to you and gestures for you to come snuggle with him. The other two cameras picked up the sweet moment.
◅  ◃      ▹  ▻
The video blows up on both of your pages. Fans ecstatic to see you get dominated by König’s monster cock finally. The chemistry you both had radiating through the camera adding to the passion. People requesting more and starting to ship the two of you.
You have 5 more days in Austria and König is excited to spend those few days with you. He’s at home, late at night, watching the clips of him snuggling you after sex. A small smile on his face as he watches it over and over. He didn’t want to, but he caught feelings. He wonders if you feel the same.
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sparkles-rule-4eva · 2 days
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Alrighty! @number-one-shadisper-shipper and I binged the Knuckles series today, so time for thoughts! SPOILER ALERT.
I'll admit the show wasn't perfect. I've seen the negative reviews, and I kinda get where they come from. BUT! I did enjoy this show greatly! And I'm not here to complain. Time for some happy thoughts, y'all! 💙🤩
I think you need to have a love, not just tolerance, for the SCU in order to properly enjoy this show. I do have such, so I had a lot of fun with it.
There were definitely scenes from every episode that had me either squealing, laughing, crying, or flipping out. But my favorite was likely the first episode, because come on, we saw the Wachowski family! Most of them, anyway! While I missed Tom's presence, I was grateful for that comment from Maddie about him being "out of town," so he wasn't just gone for no reason.
The SECOND it showed our three space babies hanging out together in their room?! I SCREAMED. THE BOYS!!!!
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Tails sitting on his bed tinkering with one of his gizmos, Sonic rocking out to music with an air guitar, and Knuckles exercising from one of the ceiling planks. IT'S THEM!!! They're just hanging out, doing their thing, looking oh so much like brothers. And Sonic's narration at the beginning was GOLD. 🤣💙
Even though we didn't get enough of Maddie being a parent, we definitely got a nice chunk for it only lasting part of an episode. Maddie called Knuckles "one of our kids" (that had me SCREECHING). The angry mama vibes were GOLDEN. 🤣 The way she made breakfast for them, the "Boys, breakfast is ready!" I love the normalcy of it! Can't wait to see more in the future! (Her calling to them with "boys" is somehow just the sweetest thing and I'm melting.)
The poor mailman being like "I just wanna go home, man" 🤣
We were right, fellas, Knuckles had no idea what being grounded meant. 🤣 Although the way Sonic piped up with "Oh, I definitely know what it means," has me suspecting that Sonic himself has gotten grounded a decent amount before. 😂
Knuckles trying to talk back, and Maddie going, "ExCUSE ME?!" then just making those tiny, terrifying noises and Sonic being like "Bro don't mess with Mom when she's mad" (okay, he didn't say "mom" and that made me sad, but the mom vibes were 110% there so I'm here for it). 😂 And since Knuckles snuck out and later Wade said, several times, "Aren't you grounded?" seems to confirm that this entire show is basically what Knuckles does when he's grounded. 🤣 Although ... his comment about not being able to be grounded because he had no home made me very sad. 😭
I did not have an issue with so much Wade screentime! Sure, he isn't my favorite SCU character, but I love what this show did with him! I'd already seen his moments in the movies (like nearly shooting Robotnik in the face with an actual handgun). I like how they gave him actual family issues; a dad who abandoned him and his family, a realistic sister, a mom. Bad family memories. Awkward reunions. They could've made it a joke, but they didn't, and I greatly appreciate that. Especially since I've witnessed firsthand how painful family separations can be. 😔
All the emotional talks Wade and Knuckles had caught me off guard in the best way! The way they talked about their different family issues, the way they talked of betrayal from friends, and being left alone, hit way harder than I was prepared for. Especially that talk they had at the burger place in the middle of the night? Oof. Good talk right there.
Also, even though they took a "show don't tell" take with it, I loved how Knuckles relaxed more and more throughout the show. In the beginning, he couldn't rest, he couldn't sit back and have a genuine good time. But the more he hung out with Wade and his family, the more he learned. He learned about music and found "his jam" (that was literally amazing btw). He watched movies with Mrs. Whipple and ate snacks in the hotel room in Reno and watched more movies. He had his teenager moments of rolling his eyes and rebelling, but he was so well portrayed here, I loved it. I felt for him.
Despite the bizarre nature of the episode "Flames of Disaster," (we were cracking up so hard) I'm trying to glean bits of the truth of Knuckles's story from the crazy musical play that Pachacamac put on in Wade's dream. I mean, "Longclaw" and her tribe were there, and ... what the heck was that giant demon thing?! Iblis?! Does our Knuckles Wachowski have an actual history with freaking Iblis?!?! 😱🔥
I was deeply intrigued by the two main antagonists, especially at the implication that G.U.N. did seem to exist before the events of the first movie?! Did it exist, get disbanded after the Maria incident, then get reformed?! My brain is exploding. 🤯 I was even more shocked that they apparently died? I guess I shouldn't be surprised, the Wachowski kids don't seem to have much qualms about getting rid of the baddies for good as the game versions do. That was a terrifying phenomenon, what happened with the two rings. 🫣
And then the Buyer getting crushed by the giant glass ball 👀
Although in those last two episodes, I admit I was freaking out and legitimately near tears at Wade's seemingly having to "betray" Knuckles. Before the reveal that all was in good communication, all I could think was how relaxed Knuckles finally seemed, chilling in the hotel room, being excited about whatever Wade wanted to "show" him, questioning whether it was a song, him declaring that he was going to bring his favorite hat, 🥹 all I could think was of their previous discussions about betrayal from friends and family, and when Knuckles called Wade "my friend" right before the elevator doors closed, I just about sobbed. I was like "please, don't let him be betrayed, don't let him have come all this way and relaxed so much only to get 'betrayed' once again by someone he's come to consider a friend." 😭 We heaved a HUGE sigh of relief when it revealed he was aware of the trap the whole time. 😪
Maternal instincts went nuts when he got so badly hurt in that final battle 😭 I literally reached for the screen several times and was right back to almost weeping 🥲 And someone tell me I wasn't the only one noticing the parallel in that scene with Wade standing in front of his unconscious body the way Tom did with Sonic in the first movie. That, PLUS Knuckles's epic comeback, and his retrieval of his own power?!?! EPIC!!!!
The ending was abrupt, sure, but the pure joy on Knuckles's face after everything as he jumped up to high five Wade was just too sweet. 🥹
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So yes, even though I would have loved just a little more, a return to Green Hills, a reunion with Maddie, Sonic, and Tails, I adored this show. It was a wild ride, full of laughs, tears, excited screeching, etc. 💙💛❤️ I don't care what anyone says, nothing will make me hate it.
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clubdionysus · 3 days
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[BAD DECISION #7] Sex With An Ex
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warnings: sad girl hours!! backstory!! wahoo!! reader gets a nickname (byeol (means star in korean)). enter stage left: KIM SEOKJIN. no smut but references back to things said mid-shag. first mention of jk’s lip ring flipping (i think (first of MANY)). very emotionally hurt reader :(
soundtrack:don’t know how to keep loving you - julia jacklin; 3:00 am - finding hope; blender - 5sos
wc: 6k
bd total wc: 540k (on-going)
minors dni | AO3 | series masterlist 
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A frigid early morning breeze dances around Jeongguk's bare legs. The hairs stand on end, in protest of the fact he's elected to wait downstairs by the entrance of his apartment.
He knows you're in a taxi - had sent you his address, and had been sent a message back a few moments later saying 'omw', but he isn't sure if you remember which floor he's on, nor which apartment is his. It's almost as if he didn't put a decal sticker that resembles Iron Man's Arc Reactor on their doorbell.
Jimin is yet to notice it.
You had giggled, still tipsy, when you'd spotted it on the night that Jimin had taken you back to their place, but can barely remember it, now.
And so, Jeongguk waits for you in the cold, hands bunched into the pockets of his shorts, a white shirt hanging off his broad shoulders, which are slightly hunched over. He's trying to preserve heat. Wishes he was wearing socks. Will blame you if he gets sick.
Yet when your taxi rolls up - and he's squinting from the headlights, eyes a little puffy from his lack of sleep - he knows that you're not in the mood to be blamed for anything. There seems like there's a weight on your shoulders as you thank your driver, making sure the door is shut before turning to face Jeongguk.
Posture sloped, you don't carry yourself like you usually do. Normally spritely, you seem quite the opposite now.
Your lips are thin as you smile.
He reciprocates a similar countenance, his lip ring flipping up ever so gently as he does it. There's something sweet about it, and it always makes you feel a little warm, normally, but you can't bring yourself to be endeared by it right now.
He walks to meet you - just a few steps across the ground floor parking lot - and wraps his arms around your shoulders. Doesn't let the hug linger for too long. Isn't entirely certain it won't make you cry.
"You're missing your disco, Byeol," Jeongguk says tenderly as he looks down at you, taking note of the fact you're without your signature makeup. He's so close he can count your lashes, and not a single one has a trace of glitter. You ignore the connotations of how he replaces ball with byeol. You're not sure how deliberate it is.
A familiar heat tickles at your lash line. With a sigh, you shrug. Look down at Jeongguk's hands, which are picking loose hairs from your shirt.
They're so acquainted with you now that you notice a graze on his finger that wasn't there the last time you'd hung out. Wonder how he got it. Hope he's okay, and that it didn't hurt. It's just a scrape from an awkward bottle cap. Nothing to worry about.
When your eyes finally meet his, you're surprised by how brutal his stare is. Eyes dark, there's no stars in them. His sharp jaw seems particularly tense, nose pointed and dewy beneath the moonlight. Behind him, the lobby light cuts out.
He swallows, dropping his hands from your shirt as his body turns to set the motion detector off again.
"Can we go inside?" you ask, quiet as a mouse.
Jeongguk doesn't understand why you're being so timid with him. He's not a fucking cat. You aren't his prey.
He just nods, though. "Of course."
The shrill beep of his entryway door code being punched in makes you feel like heaving. Everything is a little too much - which is why, when Jeongguk presses the button for the elevator, you ask if you can take the stairs instead.
"Sure," he says, a little taken aback. He normally takes the stairs himself, but thought you wouldn't want to walk up twelve flights of stairs. "We're pretty high up."
"S'fine," you say as you head towards the staircase. It's dimly lit, motion sensor lights flickering alight as you approach them. "Need the walk."
He chooses not to engage in conversation. Your words feel coded, and he isn't sure he's able to decipher them. Doesn't wanna risk saying the wrong thing when you're in a mood that feels so unfamiliar to him.
He's seen grouchy. Seen you unhappy. This isn't like that.
This is something different entirely.
He doesn't speak until you're on the staircase that exits on his floor, but his tone is gentle. "This one."
You nod, as if you knew.
Truth is you didn't. In fact, you kind of wish he'd just let you walk up to the roof. It'd be impossible to see the stars this close to the heart of the city, but at least you could pretend that the planes were cosmic calamities; shooting stars to make new wishes upon.
The lead is taken by Jeongguk until you reach his apartment.
He tells you Jimin is asleep, but that his room is at the opposite end of the apartment, so you can talk in there. He takes your silence as agreement, and holds the door open for you.
Shoes off by the entrance, he rests his palm on the top of your back to guide you through the dark apartment. It's how you remember it, the only difference is that Jeongguk's wearing a shirt this time.
When you reach his bedroom door, he pauses.
"If you say one mean thing about my sculpture collection, I'm throwing you out the window," he whispers, which does admittedly make a laugh stammer in your chest.
Makes you curious, too.
Hadn't envisaged him as a fine art type of guy.
He'd look good in your cafe, you think, in the corner with the clay, dried grey specs on his honey skin. You'd give him the olive-coloured apron, if he ever visited, because you think it'd suit him. Would watch with a lazy grin from the counter as he got to work on his project. Would sit with him during his breaks and colour in his tattoos with posca pens. Would be nice, you think.
But those thoughts are washed away like heat in a summer rain when his door opens and you see what he really means.
You don't mean it to be, but the laugh you let out is so fucking obnoxious. Jeongguk's hands go to shush you, one on the back of your head, the other over your mouth - but he's giggling, too.
"I told you not to be mean!"
You can feel him grin against your hair, keeping close so that he can keep his voice down. He doubts Jimin will stir, but it's worth it to hear your happiness. Jeongguk loosens his grip on you, turning back to click his door shut, and lets you meander over to his collection of-
"These are action figures, Gguk."
"They're sculptures."
"Toys."
"Collectibles."
"Collectible toys."
He purses his lips as you turn around to look at him. His arms are folded, nose a little scrunched, desperately not wanting to admit defeat.
"Look, they're really fucking expensive!"
And then you're laughing again, at how bloody ridiculous he is.
It somehow comes as no surprise that Jeongguk would have comic book figurines in perspex boxes, neatly stacked like a museum exhibition in the corner of his bedroom - just like it makes perfect sense that there's a chess set next to a computer that looks like it's worth your monthly salary.
"Can I-?" You cut yourself off as you gesture around the room.
"Go for it," Jeongguk says as he takes a seat on his bed, letting you wonder freely, taking in all that he is. He thinks you need a distraction, and he's to provide that. Knows you'd do the same if roles were reversed. In fact, it gets him wondering what your bedroom is like. He'll consider the what-ifs later. Too busy watching you, now.
A reed diffuser sits atop a pile of unread books on his bedside table - ones he swears to Namjoon that he'll read, but never seems to get around to doing so. The scent is black cherry, but there's another on the far side of the room which is fresh cotton. Nothing is ever entirely straightforward with him, but it's kind of why you like his company.
"This one is good," you muse, tapping the spine of one of your favourites - Cho Nam-Joo's Kim Ji-Young, Born 1982. You've the same book on your shelf at home. There are a few you don't recognise, so make a note to ask him about those another time.
His bed is made, but it's just as ruffled as his dark hair, which sticks out a little on end. You meet his eyes as you scan the room, and find that there's a small smile on his lips. You reciprocate it, hoping it's enough to distract him from the fact you're not quite yourself.
"Wanna sit?" he asks, knocking his head to the space beside him.
You don't think you do. You don't want to really be close to another person, not physically.
Something about him makes it hard to refuse such an offer, though. You find yourself nodding, even when you don't mean to.
He shuffles a little further up his bed, falling down onto his back to stare at his ceiling again. His legs hang off the side of his bed, hands intertwined across his chest.
You follow suit. Legs up, knees bent, feet by your ass, you copy his hands as you stare at his ceiling, too. Above you, his origami birds flutter gently in the aircon breeze.
"You make them?"
"Mhmm."
"They're pretty."
"Pretty lame," he snorts, very much aware that it's not the coolest thing to have in your bedroom as a twenty-five year old man, almost forgetting his glorified doll collection.
His sheets are soft, but there's still a slight crinkle as he turns his head to look at you. Though you feel his gaze, you don't look back.
"No disco balls tonight?"
The question is expressed so tenderly that you can't help but swallow back the flounder in your diaphragm. Your head slowly shakes, but you're still looking up at the birds. Part of you hates that he associates you so damn closely with that fucking glitter. Part of you quite likes it, too. Makes you feel seen. Makes you feel vulnerable.
"Why not?" He asks.
"Just 'cause," you whisper, not intending on giving an answer of substance - but you're upset, and it's a topic of contention that has been eating away at you for so long now that you can't help yourself from biting a little bit. "Sometimes it's just not very mature."
Jeongguk snorts. "You're talking to the guy with a figurine collection."
And then you're smiling, because his self-awareness is not only refreshing but incredibly endearing. He doesn't take himself seriously, and it's why you like his company. One of the reasons, at least.
But then you're thinking about how nice it is to laugh with someone for the simplicity of feeling a shared happiness, and you can't help but let the truth slip out.
"I used to date a guy," your voice lingers on your words, before you sigh and continue. "And he was so cool, yanno? So smart, and mature-"
The emphasis on the word, and the fact you're repeating it, tells Jeongguk all he needs to know about exactly what's happened tonight. Not once have you ever cared for looking older than you are, content with having fun thanks to the freedom of your twenties. In the time that he's known you, the topic of maturity has only ever been mentioned when you berate each other for being stupid.
Your compulsion to seem mature now is telling. He knows where you've been. Who you've been with, even if he doesn't know exactly who he is.
"- and he was just... you know people who have shit figured out? He's like that. He's older. Wiser." You pause, but Jeongguk lets you keep talking. His eyes are on the ceiling now, too. "Anyways, glitter annoys him. Gets on his clothes and then apparently it's a bitch to get out but I'm so used to it that I never notice it-"
"It's not a bitch to get out."
"And like, he's just, mature, yanno?"
"Yeah, you said that."
"So," you shrug your shoulders into the mattress. "He doesn't like glitter."
There's silence as Jeongguk thinks about what the fuck he's supposed to say to that.
In his eyes, you are glitter. Called you Byeol earlier 'cause you remind him of fucking stars. Feels a bit stupid for it now, but he's hoping you misheard.
He has to bite on his cheeks to stop himself from saying some scathing remark. 'So he doesn't like you, then?' reverberates in his head. It's harsh, he knows, but he wants to say it because he wants you to realise how terrible it is to change yourself for someone like that. And for what? It obviously didn't go well if you've ended up here.
But you are here. And he knows he's right - things can't have gone well. You're probably already feeling like shit, and who is he to make you feel even worse?
He can't be putting you through the wringer like that, but he's perplexed at the idea of you being so invested in someone who is quite clearly unbelievably wrong for you.
He's been in your position before.
Knows that him being a prick will only cause more damage.
And so he's kind, instead.
"I think it suits you," he says. "The glitter, I mean. You look fine without it, but it does really suit you."
You lean your head to the side, trying to get a read on his face. He just keeps on looking at the birds.
There's a harshness to the shadows on his face, painting him in greys. You don't realise it, but you're just the same - shrouded in the darkness of the night. His bedroom curtains are open, but the city lights aren't that bright at this time in the morning. Without the glitter to catch in what little light there is, your spark is dulled.
"You're just not used to seeing me without it," you say with a smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes.
He lets his head fall to the side, mirroring you. Strands of hair fall over his forehead, obscuring his eyes, tickling at his lashes. You reach over and knock a couple out of the way, trying to disregard the weight of his gaze. Deciding it's impossible, you look back up to the ceiling.
"You saw him tonight?" Jeongguk asks.
All you do is nod, because you're pretty sure you'll cry if you try and speak. The way your lips press together, brows tight above your pitiful eyes is painful to watch. You take a second. Take a breath. Wait for the next question.
"You slept with him?"
Jeongguk feels bad for the leap in questions, but he knows he's getting nods or shakes, and he want to get to the root of why the fuck you're ending your night in his room instead of with the guy you've been hung up on for months. Doesn't know his name. Doesn't care to know it. Thinks he's a prick.
A wallowing sadness sits in his chest when you nod your head, not for himself, but for you. He's never seen you like this. Never knew someone could have so much power over you.
Headstrong is all he's ever known you to be, but he feels like one of the King's men trying to put bloody Humpty Dumpty back together again.
You swallow back the sob that's causing a commotion in your oesophagus, as if the movement doesn't remind you of his hand on your throat.
God, you wish you could just stop thinking about him.
You think it would have hurt less if he'd have taken a knife to it.
Instead, his hands had been so warm and gentle, that you thought it meant he was trying to reclaim the space that used to hold a necklace with his initial.
Jeongguk doesn't want to ask the next question, but knows that as your friend - as a duty of care - he has to.
"Did he..." Jeongguk pauses, unsure of how to phrase in a delicate way.
"No," you finally, say, because you know where it's going. "He didn't hurt me."
"You've been crying," Jeongguk objects.
"Didn't hurt me like that."
He nods, accepting your response. Still has no idea what to fucking say, but he never does around you. S'why he always takes a moment or so. Brain just doesn't work when you're around.
"You wanna talk about it?"
To talk means to cry, and you don't really wanna do that. You glance over to him, and watch the way he's nibbling on his bottom lip, toying with his ring. Eyes still on the ceiling, Jeongguk pretends not to notice. You're both good at that. Pretending.
The silver of his jewellery - his piercings, his thick bracelets, the chain around his neck - just reminds you of the earrings that you're wearing.
They're dainty. Pretty little hoops. Intricate leaves trail around the smooth shape, tiny sparkling stones catching in the light. You'd worn them deliberately. Had hoped he'd notice.
Not Jeongguk. You couldn't really care less for what he did or didn't notice about you.
You'd worn them for Seokjin.
Had been wearing them since he messaged you midweek - I'm in town at the weekend. Will you be around? - and now you kind of want to rip them out.
You'd hoped he would remember the trip you took together to Gyeongju. Your third time visiting the city together; just before autumn was about to settle into the earth, rusted leaves sinking to the ground, like the blossoms during the spring. The cyclic nature of the seasons used to make you smile. 
Just like he did, in the old Hanok where a silversmith crafted twisted hoops in front of your very eyes. He told you he'd buy you the entire store when he finally became a big shot. Settled for a tiny pair of silver hoops, instead.
They're the ones you're wearing now. The ones you hoped he would notice.
But he didn't notice. Not tonight. Not once. Not even when his lips were on your lobes, nor when his hands were on your body, his voice quiet in your ear as he'd told you tall tales about how much he'd missed you.
His voice had been so soothing at the time - "still take me so well, darling" - like aloe on sunburn - "like that. Fuck, darlin', like that" - but you realise now he was just covering you in deep heat. "Uh- shit. You always been this tight? Fuck. You're gonna make me cum so fucking hard."
Only a matter of time until he was scalding your skin all over again. "Shit." Scorching. "I'm there." Tarnishing. "Take it all for me, take it- ugh. Yeah, that's it. Good girl. Good fuckin' girl." Destroying. "Fuck."
And oh, what a scar Kim Seokjin leaves on your skin.
His handprints are warped all over your body. You're red in the wake of his touch, sandpaper palms scrubbing away at the efforts you've made to heal yourself in the past few months. Your cracks are showing again, and you're not wearing any glitter to fill the gaps.
You're broken, and it shows.
You swallow a little harshly, tongue licking your dry lips before biting down on them. Lashline warming again, you simply shrug. His duvet rustles beneath you. "Not much to talk about."
"We both know you wouldn't be here if that was true."
"But it is," you say with a fragile laugh. "He came over, and then-" Your voice cracks. "And then he left."
Should have seen it coming, really. You reap what you sow.
Jeongguk knows you never stay. Learnt it pretty quickly. Didn't ask too many questions about it. Never occurred to him that maybe you'd ever want someone else to stay, instead.
"I... ," you mumble as you try and think of the right words to say. Your cheeks are a little damp, and you know that Jeongguk knows you're crying, even if he isn't looking at you, but what's the point in pretending anymore? "I really thought that it wasn't me, yanno? I thought other people were the issue."
One of the birds he's watching catches on the wings of its neighbour, awkwardly straggling before falling back into position. Jeongguk thinks he should cut them all down.
"What do you mean?"
"The whole..."
When you pause, Jeongguk looks over to you. Your face is a little scrunched up, feeling awkward about such an admission. It makes him laugh how you can appear so pitiful and yet still so classically you. You laugh too, stuttering on your breath, using the back of your palm to dust away some of your tears.
"The whole intimacy thing," you finally continue with a small smile - because if you don't laugh, you will cry. "I thought that other people were the issue; that they didn't compel me to stay. I never once thought that it was me. That I was the issue - but I can't even fucking compel the guy I thought I'd marry one day to stay. It's me. I'm the fucking problem."
You're smiling as you finish talking, but it fades quickly. Withers like the flowers Seokjin had bought you on the evening he'd broken up with you. There's still one pressed between the pages in your journal. Petals plucked. He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not. He loves-
"You're not a problem," Jeongguk says, eyes hard as they look to his ceiling. His hands are still linked over his stomach, but he's resisting the urge to pace the room. He needs to wrap his head around what you're saying, but can't do it when he's sitting still. Needs to walk in a circle to try and find where the fuck it starts. Doesn't make sense to him how you're blaming yourself for your ex not staying. He chooses not to speak about him, instead trying to help you make sense of why you leave. "You don't stay at the end of your hook-ups 'cause a purpose is served. It's like how you don't stay in a restaurant after you eat your dinner."
"But you do," you say, as you cross your legs and clamber to a seated position. Jeongguk remains in place, and you notice just how perplexed he seems. "You have your dinner, maybe even dessert, and then what? You talk. Enjoy other's company."
He sits now, too. "Okay, maybe it was the wrong analogy-"
"It's not. It's entirely correct. Gguk, I-" you sigh, shoulders lifting to your ears and falling again. Exasperation pollutes your features.
You've given the topic a lot of thought, but never shared your conclusions. It's all a bit daunting.
"You...?" He encourages.
"I never stay, because I never want to give anyone the same power that he had over me. Never want anything more than casual sex, cause it can't hurt me." You voice is bereft, a small pitiful laugh punctuating your words. "How fucking sad is that?"
You're speaking so quietly that all Jeongguk can do is listen as your words slip into in ears and get all jumbled about inside his head. He needs time to reorganise them; to understand what you actually mean.
"I have so many rules and restrictions that it's barely even sex these days, more... a transaction? And yet when Jin messaged me, I fucking folded. Yes sir, no sir, three bags full sir. I..." you tail off, but Jeongguk doesn't push for more.
Just waits till you're ready - and when you are, you speak at such a speed it's almost hard to understand a single thing you're saying.
"I let him fuck me like he still loves me. Do you have any idea what that does to a person? How much it can fuck with their head? I broke down all of my walls, because he used to make me feel so safe and for some reason, I told myself it would be okay - but then you messaged and - fuck."
You look down at your thumbs and shrug, a deep sigh exhaling from your very soul, as if your bones are creaking beneath your skin.
"When you messaged, I woke up and he wasn't fucking there. He'd left. Treated me like how I treat my transactional shags. And I mean, maybe it's my own fault, maybe I deserved it, but fuck. I let him kiss me. I let him... I let him fuck me like he meant it, and then he left as if I meant nothing to him."
By the time you finish venting, Jeongguk looks so bewildered that he actually seems scared. You look back down to where your thumbs are twiddling, shameful of your own emotions. A pitter-patter of tears hit his duvet, and you just let them. You're not crying. Not sobbing, at least. Just tearful. Bamboozled by your own feelings.
Jeongguk's at a loss for what the fuck he's supposed to do.
He's never been the kind to comfort his friends. Isn't really sure how the fuck he's supposed to comfort you. He's no stranger to crying girlfriends - he's had a few of those - but this isn't like that. He can't just kiss it better, not that he'd want to. Be like kissing Jimin at this point, he tells himself.
And either way, it's so unbelievably inappropriate to even think of something like that when you're literally in front of him in tears over another bloke. His mind is just wandering because he's panicking, but oh god, you're crying still and how the fuck do you have so much liquid in your face? Surely you'll wither up? He's not sure he's ever seen a pair of cheeks so wet.
But then you shrug, and sniff back the tears. Purse your lips. Press them together so tight you can't make a sound. And then you look at him and say, "I'm sorry. This is, like, so much. I didn't mean to be such a big fucking cry baby I just-"
"Hey, no," he protests, face contorted with a little disgust. He can't believe you're apologising for this.
Jeongguk's no stranger to a complex. He's got one wrapped around his pretty pink brain like a metal chain, padlocked where his desire to take chances should be. The fear of rejection outweighs any possible good that could come from going after the things he wants - and as he watches the way your smile quivers before it falls into a quiet sob, he knows exactly what his fear is trying to save himself from.
And so he just gently smiles, and says, "it really fucking sucks when the people we love don't love us back."
You nod. "Fucking sucks."
He's only known you for a couple of months. Doesn't know who you were before your ex; only the after. But he quite likes who you are now. Thinks that whatever the fuck that prick put you through is undeserved. Is actually quite angry that he'd fuck you over like that.
"I'm sorry," you whisper, as you dab your face with sweater paws, trying to get rid of the remains of your tears.
He hates that you're apologising again, but he lets you. Knows you'll just say sorry again if he tells you to stop.
"I just didn't wanna be in my room, yanno?" A sob tries to escape, but you catch it just in time. Attagirl. "Fucking smells like him. I'd forgotten about his aftershave -" This is a lie. "- and now I can't get it out of my fucking nose."
Jeongguk grins, and tries a little banter. "Probably a good thing if it masks the way you smell."
"Fuck off," you smile back at him, biting down on your lip to stop it from shaking. "Now's not the time."
And yet you're so glad he's still being normal with you. Not so glad for his next question, but glad for the perspective he's trying to give to the situation.
"Did you at least... yanno?"
Your eyes roll so far back that you can basically see your frontal lobe. Jeongguk is a little horrified by the fact your entire eyeball is bloodshot, and doesn't hide his disgust very well. He tries. Just looks a little constipated when you refocus on him. Makes you laugh.
"Pretended," you admit a little awkwardly, and when Jeongguk's jaw drops, you reach over to close it. "My god, shut up! I didn't want to make him feel bad. If I knew then what I know now-"
"That he's a cunt?"
"-Then maybe I wouldn't have."
You would have. You'd turn water into wine if Seokjin asked you to. Let him drink your blood if a drought pilfered his water supply. Would sacrifice everything to just give him a measly something.
You'll never admit to any of that, though.
Silence simmers between the pair of you. There's not much left to say.
"I'm sorry he left," Jeongguk says, because you deserve an apology and knows you'll never get one from the person who owes it.
"Me too."
He reaches over and ruffles your hair, smiling in that way he does when his dimples form and his lip ring does a little dance. It curves upwards, smiling too.
"You wanna get a shower?" He offers. He's terrible at comforting people, granted, but he's good at thinking of solutions. "Everything here smells different to your apartment. You can get rid of whatever's haunting your nose with my incredibly manly strawberry shower gel."
You laugh, and Jeongguk feels himself relax. Hadn't realised his back had been so tense as he twists his waist to click it. You let yourself fall onto your back again, and into his duvet. "God, how on earth do the girls resist you?"
"They can't. Get a shower, Byeol. I'll make up somewhere for you to sleep, alright?"
You don't question the way he calls you Byeol again. Just let him. Think it's nice, actually.
And like the girls that apparently can't resist him, you can't say no to his instructions.
He shows you to the bathroom, and when you whisper about being worried you'll wake Jimin, Jeongguk shakes his head. "Sleeps like a log after a night out."
There's something incredibly kind about how he shows you which shower gels are his (because apparently he needs three in the shower at all times), and how to change the temperature (but leaves it on his favourite setting because he thinks you'll like it, too). He tells you to wait before you get in, because he's coming back with something - and when he does, you pout.
"So, this is like, my good towel. I don't keep it in here 'cause Jimin'll use it for god knows what, but it's really fluffy," he says, and then insists that you rub it against your cheek. He's not wrong. Might just be the fluffiest towel you've ever encountered. "Unreal, right? Like an actual cloud."
And then despite how gentle he's been, he reverts back to his typical self when he throws a shirt in your face. "For afterwards."
He shuts the door before you can say anything else in response. You just kind of stand there, his shirt looped over your shoulders, laughing softly to yourself, face furrowed in confusion. Jeon Jeongguk might just be the strangest human you've ever met.
But you're also the girl who took a canvas painting of breadfish to his gym, just to get a laugh out of him, so maybe you're well-suited in that regard.
Their shower is far nicer than yours, the water pressure frankly wasted on two boys. Though you wouldn't trade your apartment with Danbi for the world, you considering making future five AM pity calls just for the luxury of a waterfall showerhead.
You use the strawberry shower gel, not because you like it any better than citrus fruits or fresh pine, but mainly because it's the one Jeongguk first mentioned. It's sweet - almost as sweet as your own vanilla one - but still fresh enough to make you feel a little brand new. There's an ache in your heart as you wash your ex's touch from you, and you find yourself sniffing again - but you don't let yourself fall into that trap.
You've cried enough.
And so wrap yourself in Jeongguk's towel, close the lid of their toilet and sit for a while. The clock reads twelve minutes past six. Guilt simmers in your chest, knowing that Jeongguk didn't need to be dealing with you at such a ridiculous time in the morning - but when you reach his bedroom, knocking before you enter to find him organising a mountain of pillows on his floor, you can't help but feel thankful he's the person you reached out to.
It's kinda his fault for texting you at five AM and waking you up, but that's neither here nor there.
"Hey," he smiles as he turns to face you, and tries his hardest to avoid staring at your legs. Your hair is bundled up into his towel, and his shirt fits you like a dress, cutting off midway down your thighs. "Sorry, I just didn't know how many pillows you like? So I just got them all?"
"One is normally fine," you laugh, as you begin to tease your hair through the towel. "Thank you for this, by the way. Incredible towel."
"I told you so," he grins. "Curtains open or closed?"
"Closed?" You question, confused at how it's not an obvious answer - but you don't know that Jeongguk sleeps with them open on Saturday nights to make it easier for him to wake for the gym in the morning.
"Sure you're gonna be comfortable on the floor?" He asks as he reaches over to close the curtains. "I really don't mind taking the floor."
"I'm sure," you nod. "Hardly looks like a floor anymore."
You've a point. He really did it overdo it - but he's not had a sleepover since he was about fourteen. Isn't really sure what the protocol is.
At least, not a sleepover like this.
Nor have you. No time for braiding each other's hair and gossiping about your favourite celebrities, though. You find yourself drifting off almost as soon as you curl up into Jeongguk's expertly crafted pile of pillows. You don't realise, 'cause he doesn't tell you, but he's given you the pillows from his bed, too. They're a little more expensive, better for a good night's sleep.
He reaches to the end of the bed for his good towel. It's a little damp, but not too wet that it would cause any issues as he rolls it up and sticks it beneath his head. Isn't the first time he's used a towel for a pillow, and likely won't be the last. He just kind of thought you needed the comfort of expensive cushions more than he did.
"Sweet dreams, Byeol," he whispers, knowing you're out like a light, but wanting to wish you well regardless. You deserve that at the very least, he thinks.
Unlocking his phone, he cancels his gym alarm, and tosses his phone back down onto his mattress. His room is dark, but he can see the outline of your body, the curve of your hip and the dip of your waist as you adjust ever so slightly.
He's sure that when the morning comes, you'll be a bit embarrassed about it all - but for now, he settles into how comfortable it feels to have you around.
There's nothing intimate about the situation between the pair of you (which is probably why you don't mind staying over) - but when he hears you squeak a little in your sleep, pillows rustling as you move, he kind of gets it. Understands why you wouldn't trust just anyone with your most vulnerable state.
He's just the same; except his fears come in the form of rejection. He never makes it to the intimacy part, because he never deals with the stuff that needs to precede it.
And as he stares up at the shadows of his origami birds, a frown framing his pretty features, he decides you're both absolutely fucked.
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xxchaosjojoxx · 3 days
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Just a little flirt - Penguin x Reader Part 2
A/N i was asked to write a second part so here it is. Thank you again for being nice on my first english fanfic ❤️ more love for our penguin boy Also i wanna try writing more and improve my english skills. So if you have any request or ideas, tell me if you want :3
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You ran into your shared bedroom with Ikkaku and slammed the door behind you. Heavenly breathing because of your little escape sprint.
“The fuck are you doing?” Ikkaku asked.
“N-Nothing.” You said and you began to move towards the ground for you to sit.
“Will you avoid Penguin for the rest of your life? Just talk to him.”
“I can’t ok?” You sighed and hid your face in your hands.
Ikkaku stand up and hugged you. “Y/N come on. It was an awkward situation for both of you. You guys should talk about it. “
“He hates me.” You sniffed. “He doesn’t hate you. He adores you. Everytime he looks at you, he is so cheerful and happy. It is nearly disgusting how your presence can turn him into a  giggling idiot.”
You looked up at Ikkaku. “He doesn’t adore me. He was just teasing me. And now he knows that I am interested in him and he is disgusted by it. I feel like a stupid little girl with a stupid little crush”
“Are you delusional? Maybe he ran away because he saw that you are interested in him and he couldn’t proceed with it.”
“We can never be friends again. I ruined our dynamic.”
Ikkaku groaned and shaked my shoulders. “Listen girl. Stop it. He has a crush on you. He won’t ever hate you, or despise you or anything else. Just tell him that you have feelings for him. And also a little crush? Your crush on him is huge. Although I always thought you would go for our captain. You two seem pretty close sometimes”
“Wait what? I mean, yeah the captain is quite handsome and smart. I could be interested in him...” You looked shyly away. “But Penguin is the one who got my heart. He is so cute and attractive. Very funny and still he is like a gentleman sometimes and tries to protect me from any harm. How could I not be interested in him? How could I be interested in anyone else?” You started smiling like Ikkaku.
“Everyone knows of your crush on Penguin. Except him…and maybe Shachi. So go to him. Tell him. I am sure he feels the same way about you and doesn’t wanna ruin your friendship by making a move.”
Ikkaku stood up and helped me to get on my feet. With encouraging words I was on my way to Penguin.
Penguin fell on his bed and groaned. “What happened? I thought you wanted to go to y/n.”
Penguin groaned even more. "Yeah, I was."
Shachi puts his comic away and looked at Penguin. “Did she reject you?”
“Nah,  I didn’t get the chance. Before I could knock I heard her and Ikkaku talking.”
Penguin moved his head to look at Shachi, who would give him a ‘Tell me about it’ look.
“Y/N has a crush on Captain Law.”
Shachi jumped off of his bed. “She what? Y’sure?”
Penguin changed his position so he could sit on his bed while hugging his pillow. “She said that Captain is quite handsome and smart and she could be interested in him. I left.”
“He IS pretty attractive and smart.”
Penguin threw a pillow against Shachi. “Not helpful.”
“Come on, Pen. That doesn’t mean that y/n isn’t crushing on you.”
“Are you nuts?” Pen’s voice got louder. “I was a total idiot. I made her uncomfortable. I was planning to make her blush and see her cute little smile. And not her being afraid and probably disgusted by me and avoiding me whenever she can.”
Penguin groaned even more.
“I don’t think y/n is afraid or disgusted. Maybe it was too much for her to handle. Maybe she couldn’t comprehend your high flirting skill.”
Penguin looked defeated. He stood up and sighed heavenly.
“It doesn’t matter anymore. Even if we talk about it and work it out, she isn’t interested in me. I should let her go.”
“Pen..” Penguin opened the door. “I have night watch. See ya later.” And with that, he was gone.
The submarine was chilly and it was past midnight. You went looking for Penguin and Shachi informed you that he was on night watch tonight. You couldn’t wait any longer. You have to talk to him and embarrass yourself. Even if he didn’t accept your feelings for him, you want the two of you to stay friends at least. As you made your way towards Penguin you felt nervous.  There he was. Sitting on the ground, sighing and focusing.
You sat quietly beside him. ‘Great, he ignores me.’ You took a deep breath. With a tap on his shoulder and a quiet “Pen?” he nearly jumped away from me.
“Oh gosh y/n. Do you wanna kill me?”
“I’m sorry. I…ehh..maybe I should go.” You looked away and wanted to stand up.
“Wait please. I was just startled by it. My mind was blank.”
You both looked away.
“I am sorry.” You both said in union. As you looked at each other and said it at the same time, both of you had to laugh.
“Pen, I am sorry. If I had know that you would react like that, I wouldn’t even flirt back with you in the first place.”
Penguin stopped laughing and looked at you. His expression was sad.
“I shouldn’t have disturbed you like that. I am sorry.”
You sat there in silence. Unknown what to say. Can we just forget that this morning happened?” You asked nervously and Penguin felt hurt. ‘I knew she wasn’t interested in me at all’
“I should've never flirted with you to begin with. Sorry y/n.”
You felt a sting in your heart and you were about to cry.
“I didn’t mind it, you know? I just didn’t think that I grossed you out with me flirting back.”
Penguin looked at you, but your gaze was on the ground. Hiding from him
“I wasn’t grossed out. I just don’t understand why you flirt back if you have a crush on our captain.”
This was it. You looked up at him confused. “I don’t have a crush on Law. What are you talking about? I flirted back, because I thought that I can show you, that I mean it. But I now know that it was just a prank of you. I mean you tease me all the time. I interpret too much.”
You were blushing but couldn’t look away from Penguin. He was stunned. “You meant it? But what about Law? Are you toying with me right now?”
He wasn’t sure if it was a nightmare, a prank or whatever.
You took his hand in yours and he was looking at you with a blush on his face as well.
“I have no idea why you think I would be interested in Law.”
He gulped. Your hand was so warm and you looked pretty cute right now.
“I wanted to apologize. You talked with Ikkaku about Captain and I didn’t wanna interrupt you two.” Penguin looked away, while he scratched his neck with his free hand.
Realization hit you.
“You didn’t hear all of it?” You asked and he shrugged his shoulders.
With a deep breath to calm your nerves, you drew circles on his hand and he looked at you again.
“It’s true that I think highly of our captain. Yeah he is handsome, but he isn’t you.”
You blushed heavenly and  now cupped his face. He tried to hide his face with his hat even more. “Wh-What are you d-doing, y- y/n?”
“I’m telling you, that I have a huge crush on you. Captain Law is handsome and smart, but so are you. You are funny. I love your jokes. I adore you for so many things. You are brave and protective and-” You couldn’t talk anymore, because Penguin shut your mouth with his lips.
He was kissing you softly. After a few seconds, it was way too short, he was looking at you sheepishly. “Sorry for not being respectful. I know it’s not nice to interrupt someone who talks, but I couldn’t handle all those things you said to me.”
“Pen, are you embarrassed?”
Pen blushed even more. His red head was shining in this darkness.
“Of course I am embarrassed. How could I not?” Penguin looked at you and smiled. “You told me so many nice things to describe me, I have no idea why you said it.  And you also told me you have a crush on me.”
It was your turn to look away and hid your face behind your hands.
Penguin softly took your hands so he could face you again.
“I also have a huge crush on you. You are wonderful and cute. Your bright smile makes my day. This morning, I ran away because I thought you hated me. I wanted to kiss you so bad back there, but you looked so afraid and yet like you wanted it to happen. I was confused.”
You smiled a little. “It was like a novel I read. I love those actions in a story. But experiencing this in real life was exciting and intense. Especially if it happens with a very cute and handsome man.” I giggled and winked at him.
He hid his red face again under his hat and laughed as well. “Oh shut up you”
“Make me”
As soon as I spoke the words, I felt a pair of lips on mine again.
The kiss was like him. Sweet and gentle.
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gunstellations · 10 months
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confessions
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unfinishedslurs · 11 months
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do u love the colors of the comphet
When it’s over, when Henry Creel is dead and dust and they’ve emerged battered and triumphant. When she and Jonathan have ended things. When there is no more fighting to be done, she and Steve give it another go. 
She knows he’s going to ask the same way she knew in ‘83. There’s no waiting this time, no need to wonder if Jonathan might want her too. They gave it the old college try (He lied to her. He was lying to her for months, and she knew something was wrong before that. She thought they could work it out. She’s so fucking sick of lying to herself being lied to). 
He asks with wide, hopeful eyes, running a nervous hand through his hair. He doesn’t have anything to be nervous about. She made up her mind before he even asked. 
She can do it right this time. She can love this boy the way she wants to. The way he wants her to. They’ve both grown in the years since. She’s going to do this right. 
That’s the mantra she keeps in her head when he picks her up and spins her. I can do this. 
She can’t do this. 
It’s somehow the same and different from when they dated the first time. They’re going through the same motions, but there’s something lacking. They’re both older, more jaded. They’re not kids anymore, and it shows. 
They rarely kiss. He hesitates now in a way he didn’t before. Sex is something they don’t bring up at all. Eddie makes a crude joke once, something or other about what Nancy is like in bed, and she and Steve make eye contact. There’s something there, something like mutual understanding, before Robin smacks Eddie upside the back of the head and the moment breaks. She keeps thinking about it long after. Whatever it is that they shared, they don’t talk about it. 
Maybe they’re lying to themselves, both of them. Puppets going through the motions, too stubborn to admit they’re play acting as real people. Still, she can’t give this up. She can’t make the same mistakes all over again. 
Robin corners her two months into the relationship. Part of Nancy is surprised it took her this long. The rest of her is angry she brings it up at all. 
Saying she’s cornered might be doing her a disservice. They’re having a sleepover, painting their nails and talking about boys. Everything a girl is supposed to do. Except Robin is awkward and fumbling, and every name she brings up sounds like a question. Nancy only has Steve to talk about, and barely talks about him at all. 
Finally Robin sighs and puts down the nail polish. “I feel like this subject is making us both miserable,” she declares. “I don’t want to talk about boys, I was just doing it because I thought that’s what you’re supposed to do at girl sleepovers. I haven’t actually been to a sleepover since I was in middle school and the other girls decided I was weird, but I’m pretty sure the point is to have fun. This is not fun. This is agonizing. We should talk about something else.”
“Steve isn’t making me miserable!” She snaps, before realizing she sounds way too defensive. 
Robin peers at her. “Yeah, see, that’s not what I said. That’s not even a little bit close to what I said. Maybe we should talk about this instead. What’s the deal with you and Steve?”
“What deal? There’s no deal.” She turns around and rummages through the nail polish selection. Robin doesn’t exactly have a variety. Her options are red, dark red, and black. She chooses the brighter red with the absent thought that the black would look good on Robin, with her long fingers and dark eyeliner. Then she banishes that thought away. 
“There’s definitely some kind of deal.”
“There isn’t.”
“Nance.” 
She can’t help but turn around then, drawn in by the tone of her voice. There’s a glass wall inside of her, and someone is pounding on it, trying to get out. She wants Robin to see it. She wants someone to see behind the glass. There’s something in her trying to get out. 
“Nancy,” she says again, eyes searing into her soul, “are you happy?”
She smiles, fake and fixed on her face. The glass stays firmly in place.  “Of course I am,” she replies. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
The next time Robin wants to hang out, she’s busy with college preparations. 
It’s not just Robin. She thinks everyone can tell something’s wrong with her. Eddie gives her these looks every time she and Steve are in front of him, like he’s putting together a puzzle. Her mom keeps trying to talk to her. Jonathan keeps trying to talk to her. 
They know, she thinks wildly, every time. She doesn’t know what it is they know. She doesn’t want to find out. 
She avoids them all. 
When she and Steve go to dinner, the waitress captivates her. 
Long, dark hair in braids. Long fingers tapping against the notepad. Dark eyes in a dark face. She’s always loved brown eyes. Nancy has never been one to be jealous of other girls (lie, lie, lie), but suddenly heat floods her body. She wants to be as gorgeous as this woman. She wants her full lips, popping gum. She wants the woman’s swaying hips as she turns and leaves their table. She wants— she wants—
She tears her gaze away to find Steve already looking at her. 
The heat is dosed by the ice that fills her veins. All her senses go on high alert until she realizes he’s actually staring past her. She turns around to see the bartender. He’s handsome, she thinks, tall with tan skin and brown hair carefully styled. He’s talking to a customer, teeth shining as he laughs. 
When she turns back, Steve has firmly fixed his eyes on her. She could almost believe he’d never been staring at the bartender at all. 
There’s something there. Something just out of reach, something she could put a finger out and touch if she were braver. She doesn’t. There’s no gun in her hand here, no adrenaline to keep her going after it all falls apart. 
“What did your dumb boyfriend do this time?” Mike demands, storming in her room. Nancy has half a mind to yell at him to knock first before she registers his words. 
“Steve is- Steve is fine,” she says, startled. “He’s great, actually. Nothings wrong.“
“Then why are you so miserable all the time?” Mike accuses. 
“I am not miserable!”
“You are! You both are, and neither of you will tell anyone what’s wrong, or why-“
“I don’t know why!” She shrieks. Mike falls silent, eyes wide, and Nancy suddenly realizes she’s crying. 
“I don’t know why,” she repeats. “Everything is fine. He’s like, the perfect fucking boyfriend. It’s me, I’m the problem. There’s something wrong with me. There’s a beautiful boy who loves me, and I’m- I’m trying. I’m trying so hard to love him back, but I can’t. I can’t. There’s something wrong with me.” She’s desperate now, wiping away tears as she curls into a ball. She feels pathetic, crying in front of her little brother. She’s the oldest, she should be keeping it together, she shouldn’t let him see her like this. But she can’t help it. There’s something in her screaming to get out. 
Mike, with all the grace and bewilderment of a newborn deer, gingerly pats her shoulder. 
“Have you…talked to Steve about it?”
She gives him a cutting look. It’s probably not as effective as she wants it to be, with her red eyes and tear streaked face. Mike holds his hands up. 
“I’m just saying! He’s your boyfriend, you should talk to him. And if you don’t want him to be your boyfriend, you should really talk to him.”
“I want him to be my boyfriend, I just need to get past whatever this is—“
“Nancy,” Mike says. “It’s not just you. He’s miserable too.”
“Because of me. I just need to—“
Mike shakes his head. “I don’t think it is. If it were because of you, he’d be acting different. More…kicked puppy, or whatever. He’s just being weird,  and won’t tell anyone why. Dustin said he asked Robin, and she doesn’t even know.”
Nancy doesn’t have anything to say to that. 
“I think you need to talk to him,” he says again. “I think you need to talk to each other.”
“When did you get so smart?” She asks, instead of crying again. 
“I’ve always been smarter than you.”
She kicks him for that blatant lie.
“Are we holding onto a dead thing?” She asks out loud. 
He rolls over and looks at her. She’s worried she’s hurt his feelings, broken his heart again, killed any chance they have at a relationship, romantic or not. Then he snorts. 
“Robin got to you too, huh?” He asks, flopping back onto his back to look up at the sky. 
“Mike, actually.”
“Mike? That shithead? What does he know about relationship problems?”
“Are we having relationship problems?”
“I mean,” he says, wry twist to his mouth, “we haven’t had any arguments.”
“Nope.”
“Or general drama.”
“That might be debatable.”
“There’s no need to spice up our sex life.”
She snacks him for that one, and he laughs. She props herself up to look him in the eye. His face is more open than she’s seen it the entire time they’ve been dating. 
“I think you have to be in a relationship to have ‘relationship problems,’” she tells him. “Are we in a relationship?”
He visibly considers this. “I mean, I asked you out, and you said yes. And we never broke up.”
“We haven’t kissed in at least two weeks.”
“Did you want to?”
She takes a moment to think about it. “Not really,” she admits, and his face splits into a grin. 
“Not that you’re not still wonderful, Nancy Wheeler,” he says, teeth shining, “but I don’t think I want to kiss you either. Isn’t that weird?”
When they dated in high school, it was like he couldn’t stand being away from her. He spent every moment he could kissing her, wherever he could. Sometimes it felt almost like a performance he put on for the people around them, lifting her up and spinning her just so everyone would know how in love they were. It was stifling at times, feeling like something to prove. Still, it was how he was, so in love he could burst with it. 
Now, she wonders if it was always a performance. Maybe they’ve both been on a stage, and neither of them noticed the lights blinding them until now. 
“It is a little weird,” she says finally.
“Right?!”
He holds out a hand to shake, the other one firmly in his pocket. God, she wishes she could love him. “Good go, eh Wheeler?” He asks, smile crooked and shaky. 
She snorts. “We made ourselves and everyone around us miserable,” she points out. But she takes his hand. 
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loumauve · 1 year
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#sometimes I wish there was like a guide or sth to dealing with intimacy when you're ace#not just in relationships but also in relationships#bc sometimes I think back to conversations I've had with non-ace folks in the past#and usually they would come down to sth like 'when you know you know'#or 'there's gonna be this look and you'll know it's the right moment'#which all seems fake af and untrue and entirely un-applicable if you've agreed to sth else#like.. if you've agreed to not worry abt that and that you'll pick up the topic if anything ever changes#but how do you know if things have changed. how do you know what you want vs what you're wanting only in the moment#and how do you not make it awkward if you bring it up only to later realise maybe you were just having a weird moment#(like. I go through phases every month and I know it's coming. but I also know it'll go away again eventually)#(and like.. I guess I'm still terrified of setting expectations for things I can later not fulfill)#(and sure that's prob due to fucked up shit that happened in past relationships and this is not the same)#((..the difference a partner you can trust to keep their word on respecting your boundaries can make...))#anyway. scared shitless of starting sth I can't finish. also unsure if I want to start anything in the first place#and just so tired of not knowing where to even fucking start. gonna blame my migraine weirdness for posting this in the first place#a day in the life of..#(((how to know if maybe you'd like something now when you haven't in the past but now all parameters are different..#..and maybe it would be nice but maybe it would still suck and you'd end up hating it and feeling regretful..#..and maybe you'll never be able to get out of your head enough to just have a moment and go with it and be happy)))
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jankwritten · 1 year
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first psychiatry appointment done. feeling....weird about it.
(venting in the tags. cw for what might be transphobia but i'm not entirely sure lmao)
#vent post#tw vent post#she prescribed zoloft which alright whatever i expected that#but what got to me/rubbed me the wrong way was how she responded to me saying i was trans#she didn't ask me my pronouns or my gender identity. she jumped right into 'when did you first know you were a boy'#and i was already kind of messed up at that point (crying about other stuff) so it caught me off guard and I froze#like. i'm not a boy. i didn't say i was a boy.#but i didn't correct her and didn't get the chance to LATER because when I said 'well I figured it out in like 7th-8th grade'#she started talking about how MOST people figure out they're trans between the ages of 4-5 and how there's a lot of#''''''social pressure'''''' nowadays WHATEVER THAT MEANS??#and i was like. well okay. fuck me I guess my experiences aren't valid then??#and then she got kind of awkward about it and moved on so i never got the chance to actually. explain my gender identity#idk. the more i think about it the angrier i get. both at myself for not speaking up and her for saying that kind of shit at all#anyways i'm hoping she has nothing to do with my transition when I go to the endocrin people and talk to them abt it in July#and like she was nice and kind about pretty much everything else. it was just that one thing.#i also feel weird because i overheard the secretary guy tell somebody over the phone that she doesn't like to prescribe#stimulants even to people who have previously been diagnosed with ADHD which. ???? isn't that. the treatment for ADHD???#which makes me nervous because EYE am going to get tested for ADHD and other such potential neurodivergencies and like.#is she not going to prescribe meds for them if I do have those things?? and what if the testing comes back and I AM autistic#is she going to invalidate that too because there's so many people online who think they're autistic nowadays???#this all on top of the fact that i had a massive massive panic attack trying to find parking downtown where her office is so I was#already fraazzled and out of it going into the appointment lmao#ahem. so anyway. today has been so rough and I want to sleep for 60000 years.#OH OH OH OH AND WHEN I WAS LIKE 'yeah i took a 10mg thc gummy once but it gave me a massively bad panic attack'#she was like. 'good! I'm glad you reacted like that' and ??? what the hell? that also kinda took me aback. like. wtf??#why would you be glad that I had a panic attack so bad I almost called 911 and got myself taken to a hospital. like. hello.
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semercury · 1 year
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Every time I have an awkward interaction I want to die.
#stuff sarah says#and every time we kiss i swear i could fly#jokes aside i really hate it#like can i not be in agony every time something is a little awkward?#all it was was me saying it was time for me to leave and waiting for an affirmative so i knew it was okay#like its not the end of the world but i feel like i can see it from here#anyway when i was like 13 i started hanging out with the friend group i was with through high school#bc one of the girls (the leader in the way friend groups often have them?) asked me to a sleepover bc she felt sorry for me#and she later like literally told me that#and idk ive been thinking about that a lot lately bc of the music ive been listening to bc im listening to it for the first time#but they all really liked the band back then and were pretty adamant that i wouldnt and idk it made me feel like i didn't belong#which like i guess i didnt in a way? and i never really belonged anywhere#but anyway like. can you really blame me for being afraid of social interaction and always thinking people will hate me#when most of my formative years were spent with people who either wanted to take advantage of me and thats why they liked me#or with people who felt sorry for me. i remember another friend group. this one more in elementary school. likr late. 6th grade.#saying i was like a lost puppy and that comparison still hurts so bad to this day#so just like i dont get what people would ever like about me so i have to act perfect to make up for it bc apparently im pretty undesirable#and this isnt me asking for compliments in fact please dont bc ill feel bad about it#i just like. please understand i am still unlearning a lot of this and some days are easier#and rn im emotional and want to cry or scratch my face off bc i felt awkward at work and i just have to live like this#sorry im weird in friendships. i mostly assume people dont actually want me around#bc the alternative is that they want to hurt me and at least tolerating me out of pity is neutral?#fuck idk
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aroaessidhe · 1 year
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2023 reads // twitter thread  
Never Been Kissed
adult demi mm romance
a film studies graduate managing his town’s dying drive in theatre is desperate to save it, and tries to convince a reclusive local director to show her lost media film
also his ex crush/best friend is the new social media manger there
#never been kissed#aroaessidhe 2023 reads#ok first i was looking at GR to write my little blurb and it and all the reviews ONLY mention the romance plot none of the old movie subplot#that was the only interesting thing to me but i guess the romance part is more significant#the set up of the romance plot which is all mentioned in the blurb was kinda stupid and unnecessary#like i don’t  get the conflict between them at the start. lmao what was the point in the email thing. just to make it immediately awkward?#would the history & suddenly in the same job not do that just as well?#i was fully expecting the other email guy to show up late in the book or something but that was just. never mentioned again#the mc is. pretty infuriating tbh#half the conflict at the start is them not getting a chance to have. conversation because the MC keeps stopping the LI from telling him anyt#thing. either by saying “i don’t want to talk” or just cutting him off with what he assumed he’s gonna say.#even later in the book he keeps cutting him off which still causes problems!!!!!#“he promised we could communicate but was keeping a secret” bitch you never let him tell you anything#alloro people are so annoying. also he’s like an annoying film fan. like not in the misogynistic way but….#+ he’s come out as gay but feels like something isn’t quite right identifies as queer (idk why he can’t use gay….what’s with people thinking#that asexuality and gayness are mutually exclusive identities). like yay for queer also but?? both are true#overall: sure i guess?? i liked the grumpy old lady. everything else i didn’t care about much#uh there’s also a ‘totem pole’ misuse reference somewhere in there
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coconutdays · 6 months
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seat taker
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s. you have a crush on the smartest and sexiest guy in your lit class who happens to ride a motorcycle with spooky season around the corner. what ever might happen?
w.c. 10.6k
w. fem! reader, biker!geto! x reader , fluff!, smut! (its more so toward the end so u can read until it cuts off to that lol if u want)
a/n: based on this idea I posted about biker!geto from uni lol, I didn't really proofread so ill get to that sometime later after I shower and eat lol just wanted to get this out
"go sit next to him then."
you take a nervous gulp from your water bottle as you walk to your lit class. the effort was a bit clumsy considering you were using one hand to open and close it while the other held your phone, your friend on the other line.
"never, would I ever have the balls to do that. i may be confident but I am not as delusional as the caveman gym bro that took your seat so he could sit next to me in anthropology."
she laughs on the other end, a hysterical giggle at your backtalk.
"well then he's just gonna keep thinking you're creepy cause you stare."
you let out a haughty scoff, "as if I acknowledge his existence." a finger of yours goes up in the air, as if she could see you being a smartass about your discretion, "I never look at him. I only get in a glance or two when he asks the professor a question or when he raises his hand to answer a question."
"you're insane."
"unfixable." you sigh prettily and proudly before giving a more serious response to her first suggestion, "and it would be really awkward if I sat next to him either way. the class is packed and everyone has their assigned unassigned seats, the white haired guy that always sits next to him would probably push me off his seat if he ever saw me there."
"that is true. some girl did that to me in stats and I was like ??? have you not been sitting somewhere else this entire semester? pissed me off that I had to sit somewhere else and take someone's seat."
you're about five seconds away from your lecture hall door when you add to her complaint.
"right. and then that person looks at you funny cause you took their seat and then argh–its just a fucking domino effect." you turn around and take a step into the class, the sight before you bringing emphasis to the last words that you meant to finish off with, "fuck seat takers..."
"huh. what was that last part?"
your classroom is full. every one of the 200 seats are seemingly just taken. it's a sight you're not used to when you walk into class. normally, when you decide to go in, about half of the class is there, and you were starting to curse the fact that you gave yourself the luxury to finish the last of your reading for next week ahead of time. those ten minutes didn't seem like they'd make a difference, they sure do now...
with white haired guy sitting in YOUR seat.
its across the lecture hall from where he normally sits, next to Geto, who just so conveniently has an empty seat next to him, the only empty seat.
poker face, poker face, poker face.
it's all you repeat to yourself as you walk up the carpet steps to the row where Geto is sitting and try to continue the conversation with your friend.
there's no white noise, some people are typing away at their computers and others are chatting with the person next to them or near them, so it gives you room to explain yourself a little without being heard.
"everybody's already in class, and white haired guy is in my seat dude, and guess which seat isn't fucking taken." there's an edge to your voice, however it lays undetectable with your calm face.
"WAITTTTTTTT. AHAHA–"
you can feel your body heating up in nerves when you start walking between Geto's row, to the seat next to him.
"stop f/n. I am on the verge of committing a serious crime. I'm going to actually end up in handcuffs by the end of today. the–"
"AHAHAHAHAHAHA." She keeps laughing at you as you force yourself to not care that you're pulling out and sinking into the chair next to Geto. If he acknowledged you, you wouldn't have known, his mere presence something you deleted from your mind in order to process the current events before you right now.
a high pitched and drawn out HA is the last of her laughs you hear before she speaks again, "I basically manifested this for you. you should be thanking me."
"fuck your manifesting. I'm not excited for this." you don't care to filter your voice into a whisper, it stays at its normal tone even though you're next to Geto because he didn't even know what the conversation was about anyway.
you balance your phone between your shoulder and cheek while you begin to take out your iPad and journal for class.
"ask him for a ride on his motorcycle after heh." she pokes at you and you feel like you can hear her poking out her tongue in malevolence.
even though you're slightly grumpy at your predicament, you manage to make a comment accompanied by a sigh, "with the way midterms are looking, id need a different kind of ride."
"you can ask him for that too~"
"shut up, you menace."
"hehe," she strikes evilly, "well, I'll leave you to your class with your boyfriend."
"no, stop, the class doesn't even–"
"bye!"
and she hung up on you, leaving you to flip mindlessly through your notebook while you try to ignore the presence of the hot hot hot piece of sexiness next to you.
suguru geto has been at the forefront of your mind for weeks now. you had always slightly admired him from afar, considering your actual seat in the lecture hall was across the room from him. he was undeniably attractive, with his long black always tied up in a bun and clean outfits. and his intelligence, he was always one to garner thoughtful debates in class in response to the professors teachings. his calmness towards everything was enough to make you swoon at the thought go him being that patient with you too.
and his stupid motorcycle, the thing that made it all click for you.
you had been walking to the library after class to meet with your classmate to work on an anthropology presentation when you caught a glimpse–stare–of him getting onto a motorcycle and pulling a helmet over his head before he quickly rode off to wherever he was going. for some reason, it really got your gears grinding and wishing you could just jump this man and do some truly desperate things.
he was all you thought about after. none of the other cute guys in your classes could hold a candle to the being that is suguru geto, renouncing you into a pining mess that looked forward to every lit class–even though you pretended you didn't care for him.
god, what even was the point in all of this if you weren't ever going to make a move? if he just SPOKE to you first maybe you could get some rizz in–
"you have pretty handwriting."
"I–what?"
you perk up like a deer in headlights at the sudden voice of Geto, wondering if you're the one he's speaking to.
and he is, he's spinning a pen between his fingers while he looks at you, slightly gesturing towards the journal in your hands, your cursive covering the pages of it.
"oh!" you're still caught off guard, doe eyes in the face of his sudden and scary, to you, comment, "thank you. can't even read it sometimes though, it's like trying to understand another language when I have to study what I write after."
he smiles slightly at your comment, a whisp of his dark hair swaying near his right eye, "I think it'd be cool to try and translate."
you resist the urge to curl into a ball and wish he would just look away from you, but you persevere, holding out your journal to him.
"be my guest." you say without hesitance
he sets his pen aside when he grabs it, immediately flipping through the pages and starting to skim through your notes, his eyes moving side to side as he does. you get a good view of him while he goes about trying to decipher your writings. he's wearing a black shirt today, it's not exactly tight, but not loose either. it gives you the perfect view of his arms bulging a bit, his biceps' size is an eye sore for you.
he's wearing these black stud earrings too, only visible because of the bun that he keeps his long hair. you wish you could see how long his hair actually was sometimes, he had never worn it down to class.
"looks like I'm more versed in your cursive than you are." he glances at you, a faint smile on his lips
your eyebrows raise a little and your eyes widen, "what? you can read it?"
he closes the journal and slides it to your spot on the very long lecture table. geto then leans over to your side a bit, close to your ear, and starts to point across the room to his white haired friend.
"see that idiot with the pitch black glasses?"
the question sends chills down your spine, the proximity making your heart race.
"y-yeah."
"silver spoon baby. learned cursive when he was four and it's basically incomprehensible unless you've been sharing notes with him since high school."
a laugh flows out of your lips, etching a smile on your face. your shoulder slightly bumps into his chest from it before you turn your head to directly face his.
"and I'm taking it that you're well versed in his cursive then too?"
he looks at you with a slight dreaminess in his eyes, his height still domineering over you even if you were both seated next to each other.
"have to be, would have failed lots of class projects if I didn't"
you take the opportunity to poke about the whereabouts of his friend in your seat now that he's been mentioned.
"and why's he sitting over there then?" you blink up at him for a response
at this, geto sinks back to his original position on his chair, face a million miles away from yours now as he goes back to fiddling with his pen.
"he's...trying to flirt with the girl he's talking to right now." he shakes his head a little, although there isn't much of a disappointed look in his face, it's more entertained. he was probably used to his friend's antics by now.
"ah. at least it looks like she's into it." you dispense the weight of your head onto the palm of your hand as you look at his friend with him, "could not have been me."
"what?"
you don't turn to look at him as you respond, "this Andrew Tate gym bro took my friend's seat to sit next to me in my anthropology class the other day. tried speaking to me like those guys who swear all you need is a computer to become a millionaire. worst ninety minutes of my life."
you hear a puff of a laugh from geto
"I can guarantee you Gojo has better skills than that. he's probably talking about his Halloween party for this weekend."
you flip your head to look at him suddenly, "he's that guy?"
every big party that everyone talked about on campus was always held by Gojo. they had numerous amounts of beers and liquor bottles. always the best music, the best hookup stories, the best snacks, everything. you hadn't put a face to the name until now, although it should've clicked when you found out Geto's name. his was always being paired with Gojo, as some would put it, two pretty best friends.
geto could see the gears turning in your head and his eyes creased a little at your realization in a smile, "yea, that's the guy."
you're a bit taken aback by his confirmation and turn to take another look at gojo before looking back at geto.
amused, geto speaks again, "by all means, go for it, he's–"
you quickly shake your head and stretch out both your hands to frantically do the same, "no, god, no. i'm not into him. it's just I didn't know that was him. I always hear good things about his parties."
geto nods, "he has an affinity for making sure everyone has a good time. you ever been to one?"
you shake your head, "never, haven't had the chance to or been invited."
"you should go to the Halloween one." geto suggests, gesturing his pen in your direction before going back to spinning it around his fingers, "you know where it is?"
you shake your head again, now completely facing his direction, the attention you were giving to his friend gone and now placed on him.
geto gestures towards your journal and reaches for it, "may I?"
you nod, curious at what he was going to do.
he flips the journal and opens the very last page, guaranteed to be blank and begins writing something on it.
when he pushes it back to your side of the table, you can see what he's written now, an address.
"that's where the frat house is."
you wiggle your eyebrows a little at him, "you in the frat too?"
geto laughs fully this time and shakes his head, "no. I have my own apartment. that's just gojo's thing."
you acknowledge him and look over the address written on your journal, "I'll think about it. have to wear my costume somewhere right?"
"what is it?" he tilts his head curiously, genuine interest in what you would choose to dress up as.
you try to bite back the smile at the knowledge you have of your costume and choose to leave it up in the air for him, tapping your journal on his shoulder.
"now that is something for you to find out if you see me at the party."
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just how it's entailed in mean girls, you dress up slutty for gojo's halloween party. you wore a playboy bunny costume, close to one of the sluttier things you can wear, but it's rare recently for girls to wear as opposed to the trendy fairy and angel costumes lately.
although it isn't exactly halloween yet, its the first out of the two parties gojo was holding in honor of the holiday. next weekend there would be another one on the actual day, but you didn't know if you'd go that one yet, you were going to see what this one was all about though.
you brought your friend with you, hooking her up with the address geto provided you because she had been aching to go to one of gojo's parties too.
your eyes light up when you see geto's sleek black motorcycle parked near the garage as the both of you walk to the door.
"god, there's so many people inside." your friend all but screeches in excitement and you would too if it weren't for the nerves of impending doom that geto, your everything crush and classmate, was going to see you wearing this.
the chills that come from the thought make you rub your shoulders for heat as you walk inside and the blaring of the music becomes even more booming now that it isn't being shielded by the walls of the house.
"where do you think the drinks are?" you try to speak up, a trace of small worry at bumping into geto laced in your voice.
she raises her head up and looks around to see where she could spot the alcohol until she starts dragging you by the hand, "the kitchen is over here I think!"
she pushes the both of you past clusters of people, paving the way for her desire for vodka and it makes you bump into someone a bit roughly.
you try to voice out your apology quickly as she keeps dragging you along, looking back at who you just bumped into.
it's geto.
his eyes show mild surprise, not one for entirely showing his emotions, they're widened a bit and he looks a bit taken aback while his eyes rake up and down your body–still being dragged away. he's not wearing a costume, sporting a white t-shirt and jeans instead.
the words of apology you were going to utter fall off as you make eye contact and realize it was him you bumped into, he who just got an obvious look at your costume.
you're glad the speed of your friend makes the interaction short lived due to her lightning speed in suddenly bringing you to the kitchen, which is lined with beer and liquor of all kinds, every space of the spacious kitchen taken up by alcohol.
you hurriedly reach to serve yourself a cup of strawberry vodka, hoping that the first sip and those after might make your nerves dilute. when you turn around to talk to your friend, who's probably already served herself straight flavorless vodka, she's being flirted with by her anthropology club crush. she gives you a quick glance, a combination of 'oh my god oh my god' and 'sorry' being communicated to you.
you smile at her knowingly and point towards where everyone was dancing and talking, marking that that's where you would be while you left her to go as far as she wanted with the boy in front of her.
you're halfway through the crowd to make it to the patio when a voice is suddenly in your ear from behind.
"is it as cool as people say?"
you jump at the intrusion and cradle the cup of vodka to your chest and look at who just spoke to you.
it's geto, exactly behind you, his large frame towering over your body and leaned over so you could hear him.
you're stopped in your tracks and turn around to face him now, trying hard not to feel intimated by your basically half naked right in front of him.
"yeah!" you nod
geto turns his head a little from his spot at least a foot above you and leans down again, at level heads with you
"sorry, say that again." he looks at you earnestly, wanting to be able to properly hear your answer with the loud music echoing into your ears and his.
"I said yeah! I didn't know parties could be this packed!" you say, taking a nervous sip from your cup as you look at him
"what happened to your friend?" geto keeps his posture the way it is to keep talking to you
"the guy she likes started talking to her!" you exclaim past the loud blare of music.
"ah." he nods, taking a quick glance to the kitchen and spotting your friend smiling eagerly at the guy in a jason costume in front of her. "what are you going to do then?"
you blink cluelessly, haven't actually thought about until he asked you.
"dance!" you look around the room so he could look with you. bodies pressed against each other and bodies dancing by themselves all across the room.
geto smiles and straightens himself before reaching a hand out to you and gives you a look of 'wanna take it?'
you can't help the bashful smile that makes its way to your face as you hesitantly take his hand. he softly brings you closer to him, not as close as the other horny bodies in the room, but it's a little intimate and makes you feel intoxicated. he puts his other hand high on your waist, making sure to avoid the sluttiness beneath that line of your torso considering your outfit, and he starts to sway the both of you to the music. he holds you to himself with you hook an arm over his shoulder and use the other hand to hold your drink, singing along to the music with a toothy smile.
it was playful, the interaction with him, a fun setting between the both of you. the combination of that and the large heap of strawberry vodka you served yourself and managed to finish by the second song with him were the reason for your increasing comfortable nature with him. you were laughing and laying your head on his chest frequently through your endless bursts of energy and gasping breaths for relief.
he was smiling throughout the entirety of it, never getting too comfortable though, and keeping his hands where they had originally been.
"I just wanna be one of your girls tonight!" you sing at the top of your lungs.
geto lets go of one of the hands encircling you and instead reaches for one of the hands splayed across his shoulder and chest, caressing it with a thumb.
you tug at him a little with your other hand and he leans down to hear what you're about to say.
"wanna get drinks?" you ask, craving a sweet hard seltzer instead of another pour of vodka.
"you want something?" geto asks you back
"are there any strawberry drinks?" you blink up at him
geto looks like he's thinking for a second, trying to remember the usual drinks his best friend caters, before he nods, "yeah there are. want me to get you one?"
you nod eagerly at him and follow him to kitchen. he had taken a hold of your hand when he noticed you were going to accompany him, he didn't want you to struggle getting through all those people.
he had been bent over to look through a cooler on the floor before he stood up and held out a strawberry daiquiri to you, "here."
"thank you." you nod before you jump and sit on the countertop so you could rest and drink
you notice geto doesn't have a drink in his hand when he leans against the kitchen island in front of you.
"you didn't want a drink?"
geto shakes his head calmly, "gotta drive back."
"oh." you remember his motorcycle from earlier near the garage and strike another question so he doesn't know that you know he has a motorcycle. incredible logic.
"what kinda car do you have?"
"ah, not a car, a motorcycle." he smiles slightly, the answer was humble
"oh~"you drag out–as if it was new information to you–and continue drinking from your bottle.
"you have a ride back home though?" geto asks, crossing his arms over his chest so he could be more comfortable while listening to you.
"uhh," you reach for your phone and see a message from your friend asking if it was okay for her to go to McDonalds with her crush, "well I was going to uber with my friend, but she just had a change of plans."
"I can take you home." he offers genuinely, tilting his head in await for your answer.
"In your motorcycle?!" you blurt out
he starts laughing heartily at your answer and smirks at you when he speaks again, "never been on one?"
"no." you shake your head, a bit intimidated, "what if I fall. im literally naked im gonna get cut up by the road."
geto smiles at you, "that's a fair concern, but I'll give you my helmet and let you borrow my jacket, it's big, it should cover you up a bit no?"
although the alcohol leaves your brain empty, you think it over which involved nothing but staring at him in supposed 'thought' before you nod, "okay."
"can I give you my number? so you can send me your address?" geto asks, shuffling a little bit closer to you
"mhm." you hand your phone to him and watch as he types away into your phone before he hands it back to you. when you stare back at his contact name, suguru geto, it makes a dawn of realization wash over you.
"you don't know my name, rig–"
"y/n."
you do a double take at how fast he says it and his eyes crease at your reaction.
"what?"
"you get involved in the lectures a lot." he takes note for you
"oh." you sink back into yourself
"do you know mine?"
you shyly respond with a, "yea, you get involved a lot too..."
"good to know." he grins a little, watching as you take the last sip of your drink and gesturing back towards the dancing scene, "wanna go back?"
"yeah." you confirm softly, taking the hand he gives you so you can get off the countertop smoothly. and when your feet touch the ground, you yelp, "ow ow ow ow!"
the hour of pure dancing and jumping around had not been a good rival for your new and tall heels. they were a height you had walked before, but the shoes themselves were new and not worn in, causing a great deal of pain across your entire foot.
geto held you by just below your armpits, the worry he had seeping through in his widened eyes and his leaning over to see if he find out what was wrong with you.
"what's wrong?" he asks quickly
"the heels," you scrunch up your nose in pain and sigh, "they hurt like a bitch now that I got a bit of rest."
you can tell geto feels bad about your pain by the way he grimaces for you and plants you on the countertop again. he suddenly kneels down and begins to work at the clasps of your heels.
"you can borrow my shoes. that sound alright?" he looks up at you from where he's at, already sliding one of the heels from your feet.
you're quick to deny, "but what about you?"
"satoru and I are the same size, I can just ask him for a pair, he has a million."
you give in at his response, embarrassed, "okay."
"you want me to take you home now?" he lightheartedly smiles as he works on the other heel, "I think you can walk in my shoes, but dancing doesn't seem doable."
"well yea." you say dejectedly, a little frown etching itself on your face when he finally comes back up, his lips quirk up a little when he sees it
"wait for me here then." he says, putting your shoes next to you on the countertop before he walks off a little hurriedly to you assume gojo's room.
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when geto walks you to his motorcycle, he takes your heels and puts them in the compartment box of it for you, then takes his helmet and immediately puts it on your head.
an 'oomf' leaves your mouth at the sudden weight of it and he looks a little amused as he starts working at the straps of it.
"there you go."
he smirks a little as he looks at the, very large in comparison to you, helmet, and picks up his jacket that he brought back from gojo's room to put on you.
"there we go" he sighs, almost like he's proud of himself and gets on the motorcycle, turning his torso a little to pat behind him for you to get on too.
when you get on and take in the feeling of sitting on a motorcycle for the first time, he's turned around and looking at his phone, pinching and zooming in on the route to your apartment.
"you actually live pretty close to me." he murmurs, noting what roads to take.
"yeah?" you yawn, laying your head on his back
"alright," geto says, starting up his motorcycle, revving it up a bit, "hug me tight okay?"
you nod sleepily and wrap your arms around him, brain so eased by the alcohol in your system that you don't overthink it, as if your sober self wouldn't be screaming and crying on the inside during this exact situation.
geto drives off at a decent pace, some part of you thinking that this might not be the speed he normally drives off and that he was taking it a bit slower just for you. you could feel him breathe in and out all throughout the ride, his chest and stomach were rising and falling underneath your touch. you fell half asleep on him halfway through it, managing to grasp onto him like a child with their stuffed animal, and unable to resist the heaviness of your eyelids.
you blink back to reality at the sudden stop of movement, the stilling air was no longer brushing past your skin and the noise of wheels screeching against the road was gone.
after geto helps you get his helmet off, he hangs it on one of the handles and takes your heels out of the compartment box.
"this is your place right?"
another yawn flutters past your mouth again and you hold out your pointer finger to say yes.
"alright." geto says, watching as you lead the way into and through your apartment and to your place. he had placed a ghost of his hand near your back in case you started to trip up from his shoes considering their size in comparison to your feet. the walk was quiet considering your focus on making it to your door and the overwhelming sleepiness dawning on you.
when you get to your door you slip off geto's shoes and them to him, taking your heels from him in return.
"thank you, geto." you hold try not to yawn again, doe eyes sleepily fluttering at him
"you can call me by my first name." he comments comfortingly, "and no problem. see you in class?"
"yeah." and this time you do yawn, again, before you open your door and walk inside, looking at him while you hold onto the frame.
"alright then." he looks down at you from across the doorway, one hand in his pocket, the other holding onto his shoes, "get some rest okay?"
"okay." you almost murmur, your bed calling out to you.
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you get to class at the time you usually do the following class meeting. the weather forecast had been a little chilly, so you opted for a cozy, off the shoulder sweater. it was fashionable and you had been dying to use it the moment you saw the weather forecast the night before.
you're scribbling notes onto your iPad this time, going over lecture notes from your earlier class that day. there were some things you forgot to add and that's what you always used this time for before class started. you see the class start filling in minute by minute out of your peripheral vision as you do this.
your habit of pretending to not care about suguru's presence is still existent, so all you can see for a fleeting second when you look into your backpack for a mint is that he is indeed sitting at his normal spot with gojo.
there was no chance to look at him that day in class, he hadn't spoken, which wasn't really rare, sometimes you wouldn't speak in class either. you, however, did speak in class that day, the module that the professor was teaching that day had piqued your interest a great amount and thus called for a great amount of your interaction with the lesson.
by the end of class, you were setting quick reminders on the notes you had taken of what was the most important before you started packing your bag to leave. the sound of feet and shuffling to leave the class a bit noisy, but it could let you make out the distant loud voice of gojo, probably talking to suguru.
"I have been on my best behavior. I do not know what you mean by that Suguru." "No no no that was a favor, look where it got you." "Oh you are such a wuss."
It was only a little appealing considering the fact that you couldn't hear what suguru was saying and the things that gojo was saying didn't let you get any clues as to what they were talking about. oh well.
you wanted to go home and start studying for a test tomorrow, so you started walking out of class, past suguru and gojo's line of view.
you heard a smack, like one of them had hit the other.
and gojo's voice, "idiot."
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you were sitting at your desk, going over the last of your test review when you felt your phone buzz across the desk and picked it up
suguru
hey
y/n
hi
suguru
you wanna take satoru's seat next class?
y/n
he wants to flirt with mika again?
suguru
not rlly lol.
y/n
?????
suguru
I think it'd be cool to switch desk buddies every once in a while ;)
y/n
lmaooo. I won't tell mika if that's what you're scared of
suguru
haha, that's not rlly the case, but just take his seat
y/n
okay?
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when you go to class again that same week, you hesitantly take gojo's seat. there was no follow up text from suguru after you said your okay and it was a little off putting. of course it had only been that night and the day after that he hadn't texted again, but it was a little weird, especially for it being the very first text conversation he strikes with you. the only thing that had been exchanged between either of you in your messages had been your address to him from gojo's party.
there were no notes for you to go over, there was no test or important knowledge that you had to use soon in any upcoming classes, so you were left to wait for the class to begin while you aimlessly scrolled through your phone and watched people come into class.
three minutes had passed before suguru and gojo were walking into class together. gojo was rubbing his friend's shoulder rather roughly, a fang filled smile on his face as he said something to him. suguru didn't seem to mind it, like many things, his eyes still had that warmth they always had, but it looked like he had said something back.
gojo playfully shoved suguru forward by the back before he laughed evilly and walked to your original seat, if you were right, you could see his bright blue eyes flick to you for a second behind his glasses before he smiled at the girl he flirted with last week.
you look up at suguru as he finally gets to the seat next to you.
"hey." he sighs with a smile as he plops into the seat.
"hey." you smile only halfway, a little tired from staying up to finish a homework the night before.
"sorry about the cryptic texts." he starts to apologize, moving his chair a little closer to yours, "satoru took my phone."
ah. that's why it seemed so out of character
"it's fine." you reassure, "they were a little off putting to read."
suguru scratches at the back of his neck, "I'm sorry about that. I meant to text after but I felt awkward."
"really? about?"
for the first time, you see him stumble on what to say, hesitance obvious when he opens and closes his mouth for a painfully slow second before he manages to respond, "to see if you were coming to the party on actual Halloween night this weekend."
"oh." your mouth opens in a little oh, oblivious to what he really wanted to say, "I'm not too sure. my friend that I went to the party with is spending it with that same guy she left with. so I don't have anyone to go with. plus I already used my costume."
"what's wrong with using the playboy bunny costume again?"
you eye him, disappointed, and lean over to flick his forehead, "i...am not an outfit repeater, suguru. the people who saw me at last week's party are going to remember me and say 'she's using the same costume again, what a loser'"
he gazes back at you as if you pat his head instead of just flicking it, warmth and a hint of mischief seeping into his stare, "you're right, you did catch a lot of attention."
"what?"
suguru leans back in his seat and answers, "you looked beautiful. it was hard to ignore."
"for who?"
"for me and every guy with eyes at the party."
he seems calm and confident when he says it, but his cheeks and ears start to get a slight pinkish hue as he awaits your response.
you try to keep looking at him, fighting the need to look away and wait for the professor to start class, your flustered face saying all too well what you're feeling, "what am I supposed to say to that?"
"you don't have to." suguru moves forward, positions his feet to face you as well as his face, and puts his elbow on the table, slanting his body onto it a little, "The president of gojo's frat asked for your name. He really liked you."
"Zenin?!"
"You like him?" he asks, with the tone of a guy who would try to set you up with the president if you said yes.
you shake your head, gaze looking down in embarrassment, "no no. it just caught me off guard..."
"if you like Toji it's fine," he tries to lower his head so he could catch your eye again, speaking earnestly yet something about it sounds like it's fake, it's weird, "he's like a dog, treat him well and he's loyal. although he can be brutally possessive, probably the type to leave hickeys on your legs if you're going to be with him and wear a costume like the one from the party."
"no, I don't like him. he's not my type." you answer meekly, having felt a bit of pressure from his boasts of the frat president.
"no?"
"no."
and before he can continue with his intense conversation again, you're saved by your professor, dramatically entering the class and bellowing for all of you to pay attention to him.
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when your class ends, you try and succeed at scampering away from suguru before he can get a word out. as if she possessed magical powers, your friend called you the moment your professor ended the lesson. within the millisecond her name popped up on your phone, you grabbed at your phone at put it to your ear.
"hello?"
"hey hey! I have a question!"
you pay no mind to suguru as you haul your backpack over your shoulders and begin to walk out of class.
"what's up?"
"do you want the extra halloween costume I bought? levi is taking me to dinner on halloween for our date and I won't get to use it."
"the fembot costume?!"
you can almost makeout the banter between suguru and gojo a way's away behind you as you walk down the concrete steps of the building.
"yeah! you can go to gojo's party in it!" she beams, before her voice gains a bit of malice, "you can dance with motorcycle guy again~"
"go there by myself?" you groan, almost wanting to stomp your feet on the pavement beneath you
"lots of girls go by themselves to parties!"
"well I've never done that." you grumble
"aw come on. use the costume and go for me. pretty pleaseeeee."
"I'm going to give you a reason to be scared on halloween if this goes south for me. got it?"
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it's cold when you get to gojo's party and you're beyond psyched out of your mind. from the unbelievably slutty costume that let everyone see your naked body in panties due to sheer babydoll material and the fear of coming across a very handsome suguru or toji zenin, who as handsome as he was might be able to seduce you, but you didn't want him like you did suguru.
you're more conscious of the stares now, due to suguru's previous comment and the fact that this costume was way more revealing.
on instinct you rush to the kitchen and get a strawberry daiquiri like the one suguru got for you exactly a week ago. you didn't want to get drunk tonight considering you came by yourself, so reaching for the strawberry vodka again was not within your list of options.
your eyes were on high alert as you pushed yourself through the countless bodies dancing, trying to remain unseen.
it doesn't give you cause to hide for some reason, considering he's suguru's friend, but you see satoru strut to the kitchen in a slutty firefighter costume. he was wearing the pants and boots, and nothing on top but a set of suspenders. classic.
however, you do a double take when you suguru geto wearing that same exact costume. you swear you feel your eye twitch in frustration when your eyes see his hair finally down, splayed across his back and chest, and get a peek of a tattoo tracing his spinal structure, bone for bone, going all the way up his back until it gets interrupted by his hair. his arms are practically calling to you when he fist bumps a toji zenin wearing a prisoner costume, they flex and bulge at the action. his abs are all perfectly prominent and–
he just made eye contact with you.
you hadn't gojo walk up to him and whisper something into his ear, probably that you were here.
fuck you satoru gojo.
suguru smiles immediately and turns to walk to you, leaving you to stay in place and not run away from him.
"you bought another costume?"
"no," you feel your chest heave at the sight of him, breath getting caught in your throat with his very shirtless self right in front of you. it makes you look off to a girl dancing behind him when you continue, "my friend gave me hers because she didn't end up dressing up."
"you want me to bring zenin?" he points a thumb behind him, towards the kitchen, face the definition of calm and suave.
you glare at him this time and take a sip of your daiquiri
"what? feeling shy?" he smiles down at you, if he weren't such a peaceful seeming person, you would have said it was condescending
"I'm not into zenin." a tinge of irritation already seeping into your voice.
"you sure?" he moves closer to you, your face right smack in front of his chest.
"yes." you jut your chin at him, done with his shenanigans
his lips twitch a little when he tugs your strawberry daiquiri out of your hands, grabs you by the neck, thumb close to your chin, and says, "open your mouth." he immediately starts to chug from your daiquiri and the thought of realization dawns on you of what he was about to do.
you open your mouth and he pushes his body closer to yours as he spits the drink into your mouth, his eyes solely on yours as he does it besides for when he briefly looks at something or someone behind you rather haughtily. he's still holding you and intently watching when you swallow it down immediately. that familiar happy crease of his eyes sketched itself across his face after.
you're heaving a little, star struck by the action the both of you just committed, "what was that suguru?"
"scaring off zenin. you don't want him right?"
his eyelids flutter a bit, something yours did whenever they were sleepy and it makes you search into his eyes more. your curiosity dying when you see the sudden red veins clouding the whites of his eyes. and you push him off.
"are you kidding me? you're high?"
"and drunk." he smiles, not minding your pushing him off and still inserting himself into your personal space again.
you try to speak and can't, solely out of irritation at the fact that he did that because of his intoxicated state. you bite your lip to stop yourself from overreacting and settle for shaking your head.
"you don't like guys who smoke?" he asks, genuine concern laced with his stupid crossed persona at the moment, "I tend to never smoke, but satoru passed me his joint when I was already at the 'whatever happens' point of a tequila bottle ."
"I really don't care about that in a guy, as long as he's not a musty constant weed user that can never cope with his life." you roll your eyes at him slightly, "but you just spit alcohol into my mouth because you're crossed as fuck."
"no." he scoffs, now entirely entranced in his conversation with you.
"yes."
"I spit alcohol into your mouth so zenin wouldn't come up to you."
the response makes you cross your arms over each other, "a simple 'hey she's not into you like that' would have sufficed."
"where's the fun in that?" its a serious question for him, you can tell by the way he patiently waits for your answer
irked, you look up at the ceiling while biting your cheek, trying to gather yourself again before you say, "sober up geto." and turning to walk away.
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you made it your mission to stay hidden the entire party, having entered the deal with your best friend that if the night turned sour for you, she would come with her boy whatever to pick you up in his car
after their date.
which wasn't going to end until an hour or two.
the garage had stayed open to the enormous frat house, although there weren't any people in it. people had respected the space, leaving the miscellaneous in it untouched such as the two cars and...suguru's bike.
you eyed it from the rather comfy bean bag in the darkest corner of the garage, feeling a fight or flight instinct at the mere glimpse of it whenever you looked up from your phone.
it had been almost two hours since you last suguru and you were striving to keep the streak going on longer.
"told you I'm going home satoru." a wary and very sobered up voice says when they open the door to the garage, "I drank enough water, I'm sober."
it's suguru.
there is no stagger in his step and his posture is refined as he walks to lean again the trunk of the car furthest from you and closest to his bike. you remain hidden due to the cars covering you from his line of sight as well as the sheer darkness of the corner.
he's wearing a shirt now, another black one, and he rakes his hands across face when he gives a defeated sigh. you hoped he wouldn't notice you.
this was your Friday the 13th movie for sure.
suguru pulls outs his phone from one of the spacious pockets of his fireman pants and he starts to type away immediately. there's a slight buzz from your phone seconds within the action.
suguru
are you still here?
I'm sobered up now.
he shoves his phone back in his pocket after. and you watch as he stays where he is, crossing his arms across his chest while he waits a good five minutes for you to respond, which you don't do. he gets his phone out again after and taps something randomly before he puts his phone up to his ear.
buzz-buzz-buzz-buzz
the strong buzzing of your phone on your thigh make a ricochet that gets's fine tuned ears pick up quickly.
"y/n?" he's shining his phone's flashlight on you, squinting his eyes just a little to try and make you out.
nervous, you mutter, "what."
suguru turns the light off and sighs, walking to your corner, his eyes already getting adjusted to the darkness.
"why didn't you answer me?"
"do you really not know the answer?"
"you're right." he sinks down in front of you, sitting down on the floor and brushing a stressed hand through his hair. his legs are stretched out and basically manspread even though he's not on a chair.
"satoru didn't text you to switch seats with him because he wanted to flirt with mika" he comes forth, both of his hands laying across his knees.
you're confused, "but–"
"it was a wild attempt of his to help me talk to you again." and he laughs, a burst of energy randomly gracing the intense air. suguru raises a hand to rub at the back of his neck while his chest and stomach ricochet and his teeth peek out from his mouth.
"truth is, I really like you." he's still smiling.
the declaration makes you stare blankly at him and a million goosebumps rise across your entire body.
"if you don't feel the same in that regard it's fine of course." he reassures, back to his normal calm self, "I just thought it would help explain my behavior."
"since when?" you peep
"our first class meeting," suguru seems a little bashful at the confession
"I have for a couple of weeks now too." you meekly profess
suguru seems genuinely surprised, his eyes widening, "you have?"
"why do you sound so surprised?" your brows knit.
"it felt like you didn't know I existed until last week." he grins followed by a small huff of humor
"oh...that," you trail off, embarrassed, "I thought pretending you didn't exist was the best way for you to not know I had a thing for you..."
"satoru is far smarter than me in that aspect." he says, "he insisted that you were doing that when I told him."
you giggle a little, "he read me like a book."
suguru hangs his head for a second and groans, still joyful, before he whips his head up and gazes at you, "I apologize for having never gathered the courage to approach you before. I have Satoru to thank for even getting me here with you in the first place."
"it's fine." you shrug, pulling at your own fingers, "we're here now aren't we?"
"we are." he agrees before leaning over. suguru grabs one of your hands and brings it to his lips, placing a soft kiss onto it while his eyes never leave your own.
"want to go back to the party?" you muster past your nerves, focus solely on the warmth of his hand still holding onto yours.
suguru shakes his head lightly, "I'm enjoying it being just the two of us right now. do you want to?"
"no, I like it here too."
theres a moment of silence, where both of you stare at the hands that the both of you have connected until a strong breeze passes and flutters the thin material of your babydoll up and makes you shiver strongly.
"let me." suguru says as he hastily gets up and gets his leather jacket that's hanging from his motorcycle, then brings it back to you, helping you tuck your arms into the sleeves and get comfortable in it.
he's above you when he does it and you can see the small glances he tries to avoid giving your body, especially at the sparkly pink thong peeking through the see through material of your costume. suguru is making sure his jacket is on your properly when you call out to him suddenly.
"suguru."
he doesn't get the chance to respond when he looks back up at you and you pull him in by the material of his shirt to kiss him.
he reciprocates within seconds, after the surprise wears off and places a hand on your thigh, the other next to your head and grabbing at the beanbag. his lips are soft and have no remnants of alcohol on them, a smooth flavor of his skin and flesh meeting your tastebuds when he dips his tongue into your mouth. it elicits a groan from him when you whimper at the contact.
he pushes as much as he can into your space without falling and you follow suit, trying to lift yourself as much as possible off the beanbag to meet him.
a particular whimper has suguru pulling away from you and pulling you up by the arm so he can maneuver you to sit on the trunk of the car next to you. when he plops you down onto it, he slots his torso between your thighs and pulls you for an even deeper kiss. his hands have a strong grip on your thighs as he keeps you against him and you can feel the distinctly large throbbing of something against your panties through his pants.
"are–mmmm–you hard?" you ask through kisses
suguru can't help the grind of his bulge against your core when he answers and keeps kissing you, giving small nips to your lips, "yes."
your eyes are closed into the kiss when your hands navigate to the waistband of his pants, about to reach for–
"not here." suguru mutters and keeps both of your wrists clamped under one of his large hands.
you pull yourself away from his lips and heave, a pout of sexual frustration illustrated on your eyes and lips. "okay."
he raises a hand to caress your cheek as he smiles fondly, "what?"
"nothing."you look away for a quick second, leaning in to kiss him again after.
suguru stops you before you do though, clamping one of his hands against your mouth while the other holds the back of your head.
he's smiling even wider this time, "now what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you touch me before I get to touch you?"
you slouch in his hold, too upset by the fact that you couldn't touch him or go back to kissing him to care about his words.
"you know, even satoru couldn't keep his eyes off of you in this little costume of yours." he looks down for a second so you could too, "god knows what toji was thinking. I saw the tent in his pants when you took my spit and booze like a good girl."
suguru sees the way you shift your hips for a smidge of relief at his words. "are you my good girl?" he leans his forehead across yours, hand still on your mouth. you try your best to let out a muffled 'mhm' and incessantly nod your head, eyes pleading and hands gripping onto his shirt.
"are you going to answer the phone when I text you next time?"
you give him the same answer again.
"god." he warily eyes you, gaze wandering towards the outline of your breasts and the rest that wasn't covered by your thong, "you're so beautiful."
the hand at the back of your neck trails down and moves some hair away from your shoulder, then ends up holding you by your lower back as suguru leans down and starts to mouth at your neck. he starts off small with his intentions, simply placing soft and subtle kisses, eliciting a ticklish response from you until his lips become searing and he goes in with the intent of leaving hickeys on you, it makes you squirm and suguru lets you, it's not like you can break away from his touch anyway. you use your legs to keep him caged in and closer to you eventually after the third 'pop' you heard coming from his mouth on your skin, it makes him audibly laugh for a second too.
you tug at the hand on your mouth, expecting for the task to be hard considering his build, but suguru lets his hand fall away easily and hold onto your thigh.
"what are you thinking pretty?" he asks mindlessly before going for the opposite side of your neck
"mmmm–about how good–mm–this feels."
"yeah?"
"mhm"
"tell me what you want to do. do you want me to drop you off at your place after this?" he blows on your most recent hickey and smirks when he sees you jump a little, "do you want me to get you food?"
"I want–ah!" suguru bites into your neck fairly hard, enough to make you moan and yelp at the same time, "I want to spend the rest of the night with you at my place. can we watch a scary movie?" the suggestion is simple and it isn't to hook up with him, although that's what you want more than ever now, but you don't want him to think you're that desperate so its what you settle for.
"couldn't imagine a better halloween than that." he smiles
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you're under suguru, on your bed later that night, the movie you had been watching was long forgotten and the t.v. was turned off the second things started to get out of hand. it wasn't his fault no, suguru's a gentleman and when you said you just wanted to watch a movie, he was just going to watch the movie with you. you were the instigator. after you had been cuddled into his arms, near his neck, you decided to place a few loving kisses...that eventually turned into what this was with suguru getting up to take off and throw away his shirt while you hastily yanked off the long gloves of your costume.
he was needy, grinding his hips into yours the moment he came back down to kiss you.
"you have no idea how fucking bad I've been wanting you." he mutters, hissing when a particular rub pleases him the right way
it makes your back arch, "I think I do suguru."
"really?" he groans into your mouth, "you touch yourself to me like I do for you?"
"yeah." you sigh, clinging onto him even more, splaying your hand across the soft skin of his back.
"move your panties to the side."
when he feels your hand move down and follow his directions, suguru moves his down too and slides a finger across your soaked folds.
"fuck, this pussy is so wet for me. were you even trying to pay attention to the movie?"
"yes, I was." you complain, and whimper when he starts rubbing circles across your lower lips, gathering your slick for added stimulation after every rub.
he separates himself from kissing you to look down at his ministrations, mouth opening in a soundless moan at the sight.
"listen to this sloppy fucking pussy." he rubs faster and you start to jerk your hips up by natural defiance at the stimulation, but he holds you down "no, let me touch you baby." he says sternly
your breathing starts to pick up and you feel that familiar knot that only you can give yourself starting to build up in your stomach and suguru notices, looking up to smile at you.
"are you close angel?"
concentrated on the feeling, all you can do is nod your head and he speeds up his pace at it, garnering close to wanton moans from you and screech like whines.
"come on come on, cum for me pretty girl, cum cum cum cum–fuck, atta girl." suguru talks you through it, mouth opening in awe at the sight of your body going limp and your breathing slowing down, his cock even twitches at how cute it is that your legs kick a little when you cum too, he thinks he'll be able to keep them still when he gets make you cum on his cock.
you start to hiss at the overstimulation when he keeps rubbing your clit after your high, "'s too much suguru."
he doesn't stop, "you want to stop now then?"
the shake of your head makes his eyes light up and bite his lip with a grin, "then just let me keep going."
it takes all of your strength to lean up with one of your elbows and grab his wrist with the other, obvious strain written across your features when you huff, "I want you inside me."
like he knew that was what you wanted, suguru's grin grows wider, "are you sure?"
you nod your head in confirmation, followed by suguru saying, "so cute." before he gets up and pushes his pants and boxers down in one swift motion and climbs on top of you, manhandling your legs by pinning them to either side of your head into a mating press.
he lets his cock teasingly rub up and down your folds while he leans down to nip at your ears, "let's leave your little costume on yeah?"
you nod and make a face when his tip catches on your entrance
suguru lifts his hips at your confirmation and pushes his tip in, savoring the way you're beginning to invite him inside you.
" 's so big sugu." you whimper in shock at the larger than expected intrusion
"never taken a cock this big?" he pulls out and pushes in again a little deeper
"no." you rake your hands down his arms
suguru laughs, "good thing I'm here to provide then right? see, look at you creaming around me already."
the words make you look down at where you both meet and when he pulls out again, you can see the ring and slick on his dick, it makes you shiver.
"I'll–make–this–little-fucking–pussy-take–me." he punctuates each and every one of his words with a thrust that pushes himself deeper and deeper inside you until you can fully feel his tip grazing your cervix and every vein on his dick ridging against your walls from how girthy he is.
every sound that comes out of your mouth after is incoherent when suguru starts to punishingly pummel into you and god does he keep talking to you.
"you look so pretty taking this dick baby. god, you sound even cuter than I imagined. you like getting stretched out like this? fuck, take it take it take it. wish I could make you sit on it, you'd look so cute trying to ride me."
it's all so much, especially when every thrust is accompanied by a moan or groan of his or with a sentence.
"couldn't fucking wait to get home after the party last week too. wanted to rip off that costume and fuck you till you couldn't even scream. and when you wear those skirts with pantyhose to class?" suguru groans, "all–I–can–think–about–is–bending–you–over–and–stuffing–this–pussy–with–my–cum."
"suguru!" you squeal, "im–I'm gonna cum!"
suguru tightens his hold on your thighs at the admission and starts jackhammering into you, "cum around me baby. let me fuck you through it." it almost sounds like he's starting to beg, "just cum for me, cum for me, cum–"
a silent scream leaves your mouth and you trash in suguru's hold while he keeps his furious pace.
"so pretty, angel." his eyebrows knit as he watches you orgasm and feels you clamp down on him. it has his peak lurching across his body and his thrusts grow erratic as he starts spurting his cum into you.
he leans down to kiss you as his cock twitches inside of you, leaking his cum into you each time.
at the end of the kiss, the both of you are heaving against each other, smiles on both of your faces until you erupt into laughter and giggles.
suguru is still inside you and places a loving kiss on your forehead, swiping away your sweaty baby hair, "you're cute when you cum. you kick your legs a little, I like it."
the confession has you trying to shy away and suguru laughs again, caressing your head, "why are you shying away? you wore this costume for everyone to see just a couple hours ago."
"well this is you telling me you think the way I cum is cute, its quite different than guys looking at my thong." you shakily grab onto his shoulders
"I suppose so." suguru nuzzles into your neck, "do you have a bath?"
"yeah."
"let me start one for us then." he pulls out and both of you look down at your lonely entrance until his cum starts to leak out. suguru seems entranced and you can see his cheeks start to gain a red hue accompanied by the blood starting to rush to his cock too.
suguru looks back at you the moment you do too. you reach a hand out to him and he crawls back on top of you.
"we can do that later right?"
"right."
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Text
In 1985, one of the only persons interested in an interview with a “new” writer called Terry Pratchett, after his publication of the Colour of Magic, was one Neil Gaiman. Neil Gaiman was writing for Space Voyager at the time. "The Colour of Pratchett" was the name given here:
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It ran exactly one page inside the June/July issue of that year. The interview took place in a Chinese restaurant in London.
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Here is Neil many years later holding that issue. You can see it here if you want. Warning: extremely emotional video.
Neil arrived wearing a grey homburg hat. “Sort of like the ones Humphrey Bogart wears in movies” he later wrote. (Before saying that in fact he did not look like him, but like someone wearing a grown-up’s hat). Terry Pratchett, photo courtesy of one @neil-gaiman, was in a Lenin-style leather cap and a harlequin-patterned pullover. At this point, Terry was already a hat person, although not that hat.
Terry offered Neil this : "An interview needn't last more than 15 minutes. A good quote for the beginning, a good quote for the end, and the rest you make up back at the office"*. (Terry Pratchett had worked many years in journalism by this point ).
But the meeting went terribly well. The two of them realized they had "the same sort of brains". So well indeed, that in 1985, Neil had shown Terry a file containing 5282 words, exploring a scenario in which Richmal Crompton's William Brown had somehow become the Antichrist. Was a collaboration in the cards as of that moment? Not really. But Terry found in Neil someone to whom he could send disks of work in progress and to whom he could pick up the phone sometimes when he hit a brick in the road of his writing.
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Terry loved it and the concept stayed in his mind. A couple of years later, he rang Neil to ask him if he had done any more work on it. Neil had been busy with The Sandman, he had not really given it another thought. Terry said, "Well I know what happens next, so either you sell me the idea or we can write it together". **
And as you know, unless you’ve been living in Alpha Centauri, the rest is history. That was the beginning of what would become William the Antichrist and later would get the name Good Omens:The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch. (Title provided by Neil Gaiman and subtitle by Terry Pratchett).
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From the introduction to William the Antichrist: “In the summer of 1987 several odd ideas came together: (..)I found myself imagining a book called William the Antichrist, in which a hapless demon was going to be responsible for swapping the wrong baby over, and the son of the US Ambassador would be completely undemonic, while William Brown would grow up to be the Antichrist, and the demon would need to stop him ending the world. The unfortunate demon, whom I called Crawleigh, because Crawley was a nearby town with an unfortunate name, would have to sort it all out as best he could.
It felt like a story with legs.
Terry took the 5,000 words, and rewrote them, calling me to tell me what he was doing and what he was planning to do. The biggest thing he was going to do, he told me, was split the hapless demon into two characters – a would-be-cool demon in dark glasses (which was, I think, Terry’s way of making fun of me, a never-actually- cool journalist in dark glasses) who had renamed himself Crowley, and a rare-book dealer and angel called Aziraphale, who would embody all the English awkwardness that either of us could conceive.”
William the Antichrist being a direct inspiration of the 1976 film The Omen. If the baby swap had just been a little bit messier and the kid had gone off somewhere else he would have grown up as somebody else. “And then there was a beat and I thought, I should write it, it will be called William the Antichrist” says Neil. ***
“The first draft of Good Omens was a William-book. It was absolutely in every way it could be a William book. It had Violet Elizabeth Bott, it had William and the Outlaws, it had Mr. Brown”.
Over time they realized that they would have more creative freedom if they in their own words filed off the serial numbers. William and the Outlaws becoming Adam and the Them.
But the spirit of Just William was never far away.
The joy for Neil was to construct “perfectly William sentences”. The one when Anathema tells Adam that she has lost the Book, and he tells her that he has written a book about a pirate who became a famous detective and it is 8 pages long… that’s “a William sentence”.
Good Omens was also inspired by a particularly antisemitic moment in The Jew of Malta and John le Carre's spy novels. (Neil’s ask)
“When we finished the book we estimated that the words were 60% Terry’s and 40% mine, and the plot, such as it was, was entirely ours.”
(Here are some slides of mine where I go into some other details concerning the origins of Good Omens).
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*Quote: from Terry Pratchett A Life With Footnotes by Rob Wilkins, but said by Terry of course.
** All the quotes, facts listed here : see above.
***all other quotes by Neil Gaiman from various interviews and asks I’ll link.
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drchucktingle · 1 month
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autistic expression in a neurotypical art gallery
this morning i thought i would talk about AUTHOR VOICE specifically when it comes to AUTISM. as autistic author i have learned to turn the dial up and down when writing characters. rose from CAMP DAMASCUS is basically exactly where i rest on spectrum and this shows in a few ways
in roses internal monolog you will see that she uses phrases like ‘my friend’ to talk about folks where neurotypical buckaroos might just use first name. or with her parents she will think of them in FIRST NAME instead of ‘mom’ or 'dad’. this is way many autistic buds THINK
to explain this trot I will say it is not a way of disrespect or anything like that, it is simply that these terms are TECHNICALLY all correct and interchangeable. socially, autistic buds often learn to mask by pinpointing WHEN to use these words that logically the same to us.
in CAMP DAMASCUS i left these things in to create character, but if you go back in my writing you will see it. in TINGLERS this is because they are honest in PUNK ROCK way. unfiltered expressions. in earlier novels its admittedly just because i did not realize it was unusual yet
point is, ROSES internal dialog in camp damascus is neurodivergent and i CHOSE not to change her thought process in this way, because we are BOTH autistic. this can be a risk because some neurotypical buckaroos will read it and just think ‘what a strange way. this is bad writing’
camp damascus reviews are actually very good it is a very well received book by any measure, but you will see some folks kind of making fun of these traits (i do not think they would do this if they knew it was authentic autistic way BUT we cannot educate EVERYONE on this trot)
POINT IS i am now faced with an artistic choice in later books. do i write with my AUTISTIC voice even though some neurotypical readers find it awkward? in technical sense some readers WILL think each book is better if i eliminate my autistic tendencies in later edits
my advice is this: character voice IS SO IMPORTANT, but a big part of writing is finding the place between YOUR voice and your CHARACTER voice where both are authentically existing in some way. like acting, you are always bringing something of yourself even when you 'disappear'
when writing BURY YOUR GAYS i did not plan to make misha on the spectrum, but misha is part of me and i am on the spectrum. what i have realized over time is that ALL OF MY CHARACTERS will have these traits in some way because i wrote them, and i will never disappear completely
so when edits came for BURY YOUR GAYS and misha, i took that dial and i turned it farther towards neurotypical than i did with rose, BUT I DID NOT TURN IT OFF COMPLETELY. in literal sense, i left some of those ‘my friends’, because i will always bring MY VOICE to my art as well
i am proud of being on the spectrum. while my voice may not hit every convention of ‘good writing’ it is authentically ‘MY writing’ and i think that is more important than any outside checklist for ‘correct literary expression’. and guess what THE RESULTS ARE IN, MY BOOKS DO WELL
so if you are an artist getting feedback or reviews, consider which parts you can LEARN FROM and grow and change, and which parts are just AUTHENTICALLY YOU. because while your honesty may defy conventions and seem unusual to some folks, IT IS OFTEN WHAT MAKES YOUR ART SING
feel free to turn that dial marked 'YOUR TRUE VOICE' up and down when it makes sense. i do this all the time. but i have long since decided i will never turn that dial OFF completely. your voice is your POWER buckaroo, dont be afraid to sing with it
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