#i was literally supposed to have this out hours ago BUT SUDDENLY everyone decided my house was the number one hang out spot . so
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corollary
“Okay,” Mike echoes. “So, I was – thinking. We should sleep together."
Will, for some reason, still looks lost, but he looks cute – sweet, like that, pink cheeks and eyes wide and glossy and the slight furrow of his eyebrows like Mike has given him something outlandish.
“I,” he starts, “don’t understand.”
Mike proposes a sleepover.
Unsurprisingly, no sleeping is done.
#hello again .#i was literally supposed to have this out hours ago BUT SUDDENLY everyone decided my house was the number one hang out spot . so#anyway ! now its here . and i can rest#knowing everyone will read this and forget abt me in the next two days#everyone except my Friends . im kissing all of u .#ok anyway#onto the tags . why do i always stall for the tags oh my god#byler#byler fic#byler fanfic#umm#mike wheeler#its his pov !#will byers#ok well thats all .#hope everyone likes it Smiley emoji#unless u hate it#which . fair . but pls be nice to me#i wrote thsi in a haze i dont remember half of it ill be real with u#and then i was editing and i was like What is this . who said this . where was i .#um anyway#OK ENOUGH . why do the tags always get out of his hand like this#ok byebye for real now !#magic
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Scamlords is at it again.
A few nights ago, there was a sudden blow-up in the /r/webtoons server showing a new announcement from Snailords -
For anyone unaware, Death : Rescheduled has been on mid-season hiatus since October. And it's now, and only now, that Snailords has suddenly decided the comic is ending after it returns, but readers can get an extra 20 episodes... if they fork over $1k in merch sales.
Now, this could be a lot worse. They could be threatening not to return to the series at all unless their readers hand over money. But considering it's practically just one degree away from that, it's still pretty nasty. Not to mention, the further they divulged in their reasoning around this "idea", the more confusing it got.
They also even revived their @snailordsrant account on IG which, for those of you who were there and can recall, was the same account they used to put one of their own fans on blast over some very mild criticism.
None of this makes any actual sense, for several reasons:
1.) I literally fail to see how getting $1k in less than 24 hours is worth shoving in an extra mini arc of 10 episodes if you don't even have it planned out. Why do that to your audience or to yourself? Why drag things out just to scrounge up an emergency $1k? Why not just be honest with your audience and run a GoFundMe or just say , "Hey everyone, I've run into some financial troubles, I would really appreciate it if you could FastPass my newest episodes or donate to my Patreon or buy some merch so I can cover the costs". It's really telling that this shithead doesn't have enough confidence in themselves or their audience that practically worships them that they have to resort to this kind of underhanded shit to get the money they need. I wanna make it clear that this is NOT like a Kickstarter stretch goal or anything that incentivizes readers to support their work, they're instead holding the length and future of their series over their audiences' head (which they've done before) for money. That's not an incentive, it's an ultimatum.
2.) Maybe I'm misreading / being stupid (someone pls explain if I'm missing something here) but I literally don't see how their comment about working 50 hours a week explains why they're suddenly getting their fans to pay out $1k worth of merch in less than 24 hours. For anyone who doesn't know, $1k per episode is an example Webtoons uses in its post discussing how they pay out creators (this came after the platform got called out 2 years ago for paying creators too little, there are undoubtedly creators getting paid less). And yet for some reason $1k is apparently the difference between 10 episodes and 20? How does that add up? And is the bit about them wanting to buy boba supposed to be a joke? Where's the punchline here?
3.) They say they have writer's block and they want to use the money to "motivate them", but then just a few slides later they say 10-15 episodes is what would make them the "happiest" so which is it? Do they want to write 10 episodes or do they want people to pay them to write 20 episodes so they can draw the fluff scenes that they apparently want to draw? If you have an ending planned out, why rush it or drag it out depending on how this "fundraiser" goes? Why not just write the ending you want to write that will serve your story best? Why shove in an extra mini arc that you don't even have full confidence in writing and then try to compare it to a "super expensive cake"? What are you doing? Speaking as someone who's had trouble getting motivated in the past, suddenly getting a month's rent worth of money to do it doesn't necessarily solve that, it just turns up the pressure, and if you're not someone who deals with pressure well, then you're more likely to wind up just burning out entirely rather than fulfilling that goal.
4.) The fact that they did, in fact, hit their goal just makes it all the shittier to think about because their audience is mostly made up of teenagers who worship the ground that they walk on. It's horrifying that they keep pulling these stunts with their audience, and getting away with it to boot - and Webtoons, as a company, keeps enabling it by allowing it to happen by hosting and promoting people like this.
Anyways, there's already a lot going on here that's sketchy, but then... they went and deleted their posts. At the time of this happening (as I was there to witness it all play out in real time) I assumed this meant that they had hit their $1k goal - especially as they had been showing their progress on their IG and they were already at $900 after just a couple hours - but it gave me a sinking feeling seeing them delete it because they had also been called out by some brave readers telling them that it wasn't exactly a good look to essentially blackmail their audience through their own content into giving them money.
Snailords deleting it gave me a stronger impression of "burying the evidence", especially now that they had the money. By all accounts, they could do whatever they wanted now.
So what did they decide to do?
. . . Huh?
Okay, take a second to actually think about what Snailords has done here. Because I know some of you will go "oh, it was for charity all along! that was nice of them!" but . . . I don't know about the legalities of collecting donation funds under false pretenses, but morally speaking, it's a really shitty thing to do. They stripped away the choices - limiting them to three - of what their readers could donate to, and what I think their readers don't understand - due to being mostly teenagers - is that they're tax-exempt individuals and they just unknowingly gave Snailords an easy $1k tax write-off. You really, really shouldn't collect donation funds like this without being honest, it's just a shitty thing to do, especially after you've already collected the money. It mostly just comes across as damage control on Snailords' part to make it seem like they were always planning to donate to charity, when in reality, if they wanted to donate to charity, they would have been honest about that at the start. Again, even if they wanted to do that from the start, it goes to show how little confidence they have in themselves or their audience that they have to stoop to methods like these instead of just doing it honestly.
And do you really think Snailords will actually do those extra episodes? Or donate that money? This is the same asshole who has manipulated their readers for money not once but twice, and now seems intent on doing it a third time just for the charm. This is the same person who practically sabotaged their own comic, Freaking Romance, because they apparently didn't like the romance genre and may as well have only done it for clout / views / etc.
What was especially odd - and I found this out from folks who actually read Death : Rescheduled (I do not) - was finding out that it wouldn't make sense for D : R to end in as many as 25 episodes, because apparently, the plot has basically just gotten going.
So it does seem like this is foreshadowing that D : R will wind up just like Freaking Romance, rushed into an ending that wasn't expected. And this, of course, has the people who read their work confused because D : R was supposed to be Snailords' passion project, their magnum opus, the project they wanted to do. So them holding the timing of an ending that shouldn't even be happening yet for ransom contradicts that original intention. Really, it just goes to show that Snailords has no passion, they're just in it purely for the money, to a degree that I can't even cheer them on for being a hustler because it's missing the honesty and integrity.
And of course, every single time Snailords finds a way to backpedal and take his audience for a ride, they hop right in without a single thought for themselves.
And no, none of this is to hate on the readers directly, I hold Snailords entirely responsible for this - they have an audience of impressionable, naive, gullible teenagers, and they know it, and take advantage of it every chance they get. It's why they weren't just honest about wanting to collect money for charity from the start. It's why they resorted to basically holding their own comic's progression for ransom during its midseason hiatus. It's why the deadline was 24 hours and why the posts are now gone.
Thankfully the Internet does what it does - any evidence that Snailords was trying to bury is now all over reddit, and hey, just for good measure, here's a post on Tumblr that's been sitting in my drafts for days now, days after people have already seemingly stopped talking about it. Don't let anyone bury or forget about the stunts Snailords is pulling on their audience, with a platform that they've been consistently given by Webtoons, because that's what they want you to do.
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Smutty request here....massage therapist(s) Eddie and/or Steve 🥴
Got me feeling all the things
Happy Ending (Steddie X You)
A/N: So this intimidated me a bit because I don't a whole lot about massages and that field. But I ran with what I know and put a spin on it. I hope you enjoy it!
Warnings: Masseuses Steddie and you and all that implies (I regret nothing), mentions of stress from the read and a broken heart, she is aware that they provide more than just massages, DP (I said what I said), they are gentle with her for the most part but their is slight allusions to Dom/Sub dynamics (spanking, some bratty behavior, and stern tones), I think that's it.
Word Count: 6244
“Trust me, Y/N, these two will change your life.”
“They’re masseuses. It’s a massage, Deb.”
“Yes and no.” You stare at your friend as you sarcastically blink in her direction making her laugh so hard she almost spits out her drink. “Yes, they massage your body but they also do…other things…to help you relax.”
“Nope. No thank you. I’m good.”
“Y/N! Wait, come on.” She reaches for you hand as you start to get up from the lunch table you two were eating at. “Listen… you remember how hard things were for me a few months ago? I was working 80-hour weeks trying to get that promotion, my mom was scolding me because I’m still not married, and then add in being broke as hell.” Your friend sighed as you placed your palm over her hand.
“Someone suggested them and I thought ‘Hey, what do I have to lose?’ When I met them, they were so kind and gentle. I swear for a second, I forgot I was even worried about anything. And that was before the…ahem…happy ending.” You blush as you both giggle. Debbie suddenly leans in closer to you, lowering her voice.
“They both do the massaging part but you can decide who makes your ending a happy one. Personally, I chose the tall, pretty one. Not that the other one wasn’t cute…he’s just not my type, you know?”
“You can only have one?”
Your friend gasps as she playfully hits your arm. “You whore!”
“What?! I’m just asking! More so out of curiosity.”, you shrug. “I guess not everyone is into that kind of…kink but…I mean if you’re hiring them knowing what they do…wouldn’t you want to take the opportunity?”
“Goddamn, I will never understand why Tony cheated on you.” Your eyes meet hers as she softly smiles. “You’re sweet, funny, fucking gorgeous, and apparently really open minded when it comes to ménage à trois.”
You return her smile with one of your own as you lean back in your chair. “Yeah, well, if you ever find that out will you let me know?”
****
You sigh as you enter your big, empty apartment. Tony, your ex-fiancé, was supposed to come by while you were out today with your friend to get the last of his things. Now half of your home was quite literally gone.
As you hugged your arms around yourself you noticed a note on the kitchen counter.
“Y/N,
I think I got everything but if I forgot something can you save it and let me know?
This was incredibly hard for me. I love you so much, baby. Can’t we just—”
You crumple the letter without bothering to read the rest. Honestly, it doesn’t matter. You heard it all before you caught him with her that night and after you threw him out.
After grabbing a beer from the fridge, you held the card Debbie gave you for the masseuses, tracing your fingers over the number.
“Ugh! Fuck it.”, you exhale as you reach for the phone.
It rings a few times but right as you begin to rethink what you’re doing; music suddenly blares through the line.
“Yeah! Hello?”
“Um, hi. I’m looking for the Munson-Harrington massage people…thing.”
The man on the other end chuckles as he lowers the heavy metal in the background.
“I don’t think I’ve heard us called that before. Massage people thing… Yeah, you got one of them here. How can I help you, sweetheart?”
“I, um, my friend recommended I utilize your services.”
“Do you always talk this dirty or are we special?”
“I don’t know. Are you always this much of asshole or am I just that special.”, you growl.
The music on the other end abruptly stops and you hear movement on the other end.
“You sound like your absolutely special. Are you a little nervous?”
You sigh as you lean against the kitchen the wall. “Yeah. I’ve never done anything like this before. Not even regular…massages. Deb, my friend, said you guys changed her life. My life kind of sucks right now.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to and you definitely don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. My friend and I just want to help you relax. Pretty sounding girl like you deserves a clear head.”
“Hm. I bet you say that to everyone who calls.”
“You’re right. I did tell the telemarketer before you that he sounded gorgeous.”
That made you genuinely laugh. “What’s your name?”
“Eddie. I’m the Munson in the name. What’s yours?”
“Y/N.” You slide down to the floor as you take another swig of the drink in your hand. “Is the Harrington part of your company there?”
“Yes ma’am, he is. Would you like to say hello?”
“If that’s ok. I don’t want to impose or anything.”
“HARRINGTON! There’s a pretty girl on the phone who would like to speak with you.”
You listen to Eddie pass the phone as he tells the other boy your name.
“Y/N? Hey, I’m Steve. I heard you wanted to talk to me.”
“Are you an asshole like your friend?”
“I can be when I need to. Eddie! What did you do to this girl?”
“Nothing! She started it by calling and being adorable.”
“Oh my god.”, you giggle. “You guys are good.”
“And we haven’t even touched you yet.” Your breathing stuttered at his comment. He said it with so much confidence as if he already knew his hands (and services) would blow you away. “Are you still with me, honey?”
“Yeah, um, Eddie said that…we could go slow and if I didn’t want…the…”
“He’s right. We want you to be comfortable. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, Y/N. If you just want a massage that’s fine. If you just want to talk that’s fine to.”
You exhale heavily into the phone before finally making up your mind.
“Okay. I’m free on Friday.”
############
“Shit, shit, shit!” You continue to curse as you run down your apartment building hallway. “I am so sorry I’m late! Work kept me late and—”
You froze you saw them sitting outside your door, quickly rising when your eyes meet theirs.
“Hey, no problem.” One of the boy’s grins as he extends his hand for you to shake. “I’m Steve. This is Eddie.”
“The asshole.”, he teases as his gigantic palm encapsulates your own.
You couldn’t take your eyes off them; they weren’t what you were expecting at all. You assumed Steve was the “tall, pretty one” your friend had mentioned but to you they were both handsome. Eddie had that kind of metalhead look you’d seen walking the streets of your town with his leather jacket and long hair. His Metallica shirt rested perfectly above his belt that was holding up his blue jeans.
Steve looked like the everyday 80’s guy you saw in most romance movies at the theater but his smile radiated a confidence that made you feel safe. His muscle-bound arms in his polo caused a little sigh to escape your lips as your eyes traced the rest of his figure.
“Do we…have to do a chant or something?”
You glanced at Eddie completely confused until he gestured towards the front door.
“Oh, fuck, right. I’m sorry. My head is just…” You clumsily turn your key in the lock and allow them entry into your home.
“Wow. This place is really nice.”
“Uh, thank you. My fiancé, well ex-fiancé, and I wanted a bigger place closer to the city since we both worked over here. Do you…would you guys like something to drink?”
“No, thank you. We appreciate the offer.” Steve smiles in your direction making your knees a bit weak. “You can have something though if you want.”
“Thanks? I mean with it being my apartment and all.”
“Ah, there’s that sass I was waiting for.” Eddie flashes you a tooth filled grin.
After pouring yourself the strongest drink you could find, you watched them set up near your living room. Your eyes continued to rake over them as they exchanged small talk with each other, allowing you some space to get more comfortable with their presence.
The phone ringing startled you as you turned to give it your attention. Before you could pick it up it routed to the voicemail and Tony’s voice flowed through.
“Y/N? Babe, are you there? Please, I just want to talk.” Your eyes fluttered shut as you listened to his excuses. You hated being alone and this gigantic apartment was just another reminder that he wasn’t by your side anymore. You missed Tony terribly but no one in the world had ever hurt you as badly as he had. “…I swear to God, she meant nothing to me. I’m just a fucking idiot.”
Feeling a sudden warmth, you opened your eyes to meet Eddie’s as he towered over you. You glanced at Steve whose own face reflected the same sympathy as his friend.
“…I felt so fucking lonely, Y/N. You were always at work and I felt like you never had time for me. Baby, I know what it’s like to sit in that apartment all by yourself, hurting. Please just talk to me—”
“Hey. Just so you’re aware you are a fucking idiot. She’s not sitting here alone crying her eyes out over some asshole who broke her heart. Y/N has moved on and you should to. Stop calling.”
After hanging up the phone, the metalhead turned to face you again. “I hope that was ok.”
Before you could stop yourself, you wrapped your arms around his waist, clinging to him as you sighed into his chest. His arms gradually came down to hold you to him as his cheek rested on your head.
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure. I’m not going to lie, Stevie, we may want to reconsider taking a payment in a hug because this is quite comfortable.”
They both laugh as you pull away and smile at them.
“We’re ready whenever you are, honey.”, Steve grins as he points towards their makeshift table.
#########
Your eyes remain glued in front of you as you listen to Eddie move about the apartment.
“Y/N.”, Steve whispers from behind you as his breath warms your ear. “Remember, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. We can just talk if you want or we can even leave. No hard feelings. We understand how uncomfortable this situation can be especially since you don’t know us but that makes it a little bit freeing to.”
“Can, um, can I ask you for a favor?” You softly smile when you turn to look at him and he nods. “Can you…take off my clothes? I-I-I don’t think I…”, you ask, stuttering through your nerves.
“Yeah. Yeah, of course I can. Did you want to keep anything on?”
“Is that an option?”, you giggle.
“Sweetheart, you hold all the power here.” Eddie slides up beside his friend, now jacketless with no shoes.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been with anyone let alone naked in front of someone. Tony wasn’t lying about that. I’ve always been busy with work and—”
Steve gently places his index finger over your lips. “Nothing that asshole says matters. I don’t care if you were on the moon, he had no right to cheat on you.” His finger glides down from your mouth to your blouse as he begins undoing the buttons while the other man shifts behind you and unclips your skirt.
Both garments fall effortlessly to the floor as Steve continues watching your face for any signs of hesitation or discomfort.
“We’re going to do this one at a time, ok? I’m going to take off your bra and then Eddie’s going to remove your panties.”
Once he gets your approval, he leans over your shoulder and begins unhooking your bra from your body. You don’t know if it’s because he’s being so sweet or if it’s because his strong cologne wafts into your nostrils but something inside of you causes you to turn and softly kiss his cheek.
Steve pulls back slightly, looking through your eyes till a small smile flickers across his lips. He and his friend had been doing this for a while but not one of them had been as tender at you had just been. He knew there was something different about you when he spoke to you on the phone and he knew Eddie felt it to when the metalhead completely turned off his music to talk to you.
He hoped he wasn’t misreading things and took a leap of faith as he leaned forward to kiss your forehead before tossing your bra near the rest of your clothes.
Strong hands on your waist turned you so you were now facing Eddie as he sunk down on his heels, dipping his fingers under the waistband of your underwear, and delicately tugged them down your legs. The pads of his digits traced along your skin causing a little shiver to run up your spine.
“You’re so gorgeous, Y/N.”
“I’m sure you say that to everyone.”
His grin grows as he stands up and looks down at you. “I did have a date with that telemarketer I told you about. Turns out he WAS really good looking.”
Steve smiled behind you when you laughed, gently guiding you towards their table, and helping you up as you lay on your stomach. Folding your arms above you, you rest your head on them like a pillow. The metalhead digs in a bag before kneeling in front of you again till his face was level with your own.
“Which do you like better?” He holds up bottles to your nose and you point to one that smells like vanilla.
“What are those?”
“Oil. Steve’s the smell guy and knows how to utilize them better than I do.” He stands up and passes the bottle you chose to his friend.
“Honey, we’re going to touch you now, alright? It might feel a little weird at first because of the oil but if at any point you get uncomfortable and want to stop or take a break just let us know.”
“Okay.” You close your eyes, unsure of what to prepare for but when a set of hands begins rubbing into you back, you can’t help but let out a soft, low moan. “Shit. I’m—”
“Princess, this is your house. Make all the noise you want to and please don’t be embarrassed.”
“You can also talk to us if you want to. Maybe about things you’re stressed about.”
A second set of hands find your calves and a strong exhale leave your lips. “Honestly, you heard my main bit of stress.”
“Fucker Magee?”, Eddie asks.
“Yeah.”, you giggle. “Everyone in my life thinks I’m overreacting and I should forgive him.”
“Um, we may not know the whole story but the man you were going to marry cheated on you. I think you’re reacting properly.” Steve’s hands trailed along your spine and back down to your hips.
“I went to visit him at work and they were fucking in his office. Some pretty, young, big breasted coworker.”
“What a bitch.” You smiled as Eddie laughed at his own comment, his palms massaging along your thighs and back down to your feet. “For how long?”
“A few months. We…we were supposed to get married next month.”
Fingers came up to firmly knead into your shoulders. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” Steve watched your lips form into a thin line before you pressed your face into your arms. As soon as you felt your emotions were in check, you turned your head back to the side.
“That feels good actually.”
“Did you think the massage business part was just for show?”, Steve laughed.
“I mean… I don’t know. I don’t want to be rude.”
“Said the girl who called me an asshole.”
“To be fair, you were being one.” It feels almost on purpose when Eddie’s fingers slide up between your thighs just barely near your core before sliding back down your legs.
“You’re not wrong, sweetheart.”
Steve’s own hands glide up your sides, grazing the sides of your breasts before looping back around to your shoulder blades.
“I hope I’m not being too forward but you have a beautiful body.”
“No, you’re not being too…thank you. Um, you-you can go a little higher if you want.”
“Who are you talking to, honey? Me or Ed?”
“Eddie… You can go higher to. If you want to…”
The hands on your back lifted off you as Steve came around to kneel in front of you on his heels. “How about we take it slow, huh? One thing at a time.” His palm petted your head as he moved the hair back from your face. You let out a little gasp when you felt the metalhead’s fingers slide between your folds. “Are you okay?”
You nodded as you bit your bottom lip, lifting one of your legs up the table to allow him more accesses. This man felt like a master with his fingers as he rubbed circles slowly into your clit.
“Pl-please.”, you whine.
“Please what, Y/N? What do you need?
“Can…can I turn around? On my back.”
“Of course, pretty girl. Whatever you want.”
They patient waited for you to roll over before Eddie placed his thumb back on your nub. You watched with heavy, lust driven eyes as he stuck two of his fingers into his mouth, coating them with his saliva, and sliding them into your sex.
“Oh wow, princess. You’re tight.” He exhaled, trying to hide the little moan that wanted to be heard.
Steve stood back up to his full height, coming around to stand behind your head as he reached down and ran his hands over your tits, massaging them gently but firmly.
“F-fuck.”, you whimpered. As your back arched, you could help but notice the bulge in his pants. When you tried to touch it with your palm, he jumped back like you startled him.
“Hey. Um, you…you don’t have to do that, honey. We’re here for you.”
“You don’t want me to feel you?”
Your voice sounded so small; Steve felt his cock twitch. “I…I do…I just…you don’t have to.”
Grabbing his shirt, you yanked his lips to yours. The combination of man and mint on his tongue had you clenching tighter around the other boy’s fingers making him groan, this time much louder than before.
“I want to.” You slid further up the table, allowing your head to hang a bit over the edge, licking your lips as the man pulls down his shorts just enough for his dick to spring free. “Jesus. I’ve never had anyone as big as you are before.”
He smirks as he subtly chuckles. “You can’t say things like that or else I’m going to cum before you even touch me.”
Your tiny hand reaches for him as he steps closer, mewling when your tongue runs along his tip. You don’t see it but the men give each other a cursory glance. This is a little out of bounds for them in the sense of they rarely ever have the women they massage service them in this way and on the off chance a client does it’s usually during the second part when they are alone with one of them in the bedroom.
Steve continues to be gentle with you as he runs his fingers through your hair when you wrap your lips around his hard, now throbbing length. Eddie thrusts his fingers into you at a faster pace and your moans vibrate through to the boy in your mouth.
“Goddamn, Y/N. Your mouth feels so good. Your ex is a fucking idiot.”
They both take note of your reaction, your head bobbing faster as your pussy clenches again.
“He really is, sweetheart. Makes me want to call him back and curse that fucker out.”
Tugging your head back, you continue to pump him with your fist as your hips began to grind up into the metalhead’s hand.
“Fuck, I’m…”
“That’s it, beautiful girl. Just let go. It’s okay.” Eddie pressed the heel of his palm against your clit as he moves his fingers move at a quicker pace. The sound of your slick fills the room and after a few moments your body trembles as you cum. “Good girl. Coming like that. Geez, I’m so fucking hard right now.”
Abruptly, you sit up and grab the back of the man’s neck as you bring his lips to yours. After your release, your kisses were much hungrier and you reveled in the taste him as your hands shot down to fumble with his jeans.
“Wait…are you sure…you don’t want Steve.”, he asks between kisses. “You’ve kinda…got him…all riled up.”
“Want both.”
Eddie froze as he pulled his head back. When you tried to chase his lips, his palms gripped either side of your face forcing you to focus.
“Hey, you don’t have to do that.”
“Want to.” You tried to lurch forward again but he was much stronger than you, holding you in place.
“Y/N, princess, come down from cloud 9 and really think about what you’re asking for.”
You couldn’t control the annoyed exhale or tone as your eyes met his. “Am I not allowed? I can pay you more.”
“It’s not about the money. We—”, Steve began before you cut him off.
“Want me to be comfortable. I know! I know what I’m asking for. Now, do you want to fuck me or not!?”
Ringed fingers snaked into your hair and firmly pulled it back. Something changed in Eddie’s eyes; a look he saved for partners he had in his own bedroom.
“Control the attitude, Y/N.”, he growled. “Listen to what he’s saying. It’s not about the money and it’s not about getting off. It’s not fun for anyone here if you wake up in the morning with regret. And while this little session here IS all about you, don’t forget we’re people to. We’ve been doing this for years and no one has ever asked to take us both one right after the other.”
“I’m not asking for that either. I want you both…at the same time.” They look at each other again, unsure of what to do or say. Your hand reaches out to turn his attention back to you as you lean your forehead on his. “Please, Eddie. I know what I’m asking for. I need it. I need you both. Please, please, please.” As you keep repeating your last word, you manage to fully unbutton his jeans, glide your hand through the waistband of his boxers, and rub your palm against his cock.
His jaw falls open as your lips trail down his neck.
“I mean…if she thinks she can handle it.”
Eddie growled again with more vigor as he lifted you into his arms and carried you to your bedroom with Steve in tow. After tossing you onto the bed, he tore off his shirt, and you marveled at his tattoos, crawling on your knees till you were in front of him again. His hands laced in your hair as your tongue descended down his chest, stopping just above his waistline to allow him to shuffle out of his pants.
The bed dipped behind you, suddenly feeling strong palms grip your hips and lift them a bit higher into the air. Steve’s own tongue licked a long stripe through your folds causing your body to shudder pleasantly at the feeling. Eddie held the base of his cock, allowing the tip to brush against your lips.
You opened your mouth for him and he wasted no time pushing through, groaning when your warm saliva began coating him. The metalhead was much thicker than his friend and at times you struggled to take him, gagging around his dick as he occasionally hit the back of your throat.
The strong vibrations of your moans as Steve latched his mouth to your clit had Eddie’s own eyes rolling back as he held on to your hair tighter trying to control himself from just face fucking you till he came.
You weren’t sure if it was on purpose or not but both men were still massaging you with their palms, Steve especially. His hands rubbed and caressed firmly up your lower back, around to your stomach, and down to your thighs as his tongue flicked against your bundle of nerves. While one of Eddie’s hands remained in your hair, the other ran between your shoulder blades and around to your front to knead your breasts adding to your high.
Your mouth came off the boy in front of you with a pop as drool dangled from your lips.
“Yes, Steve. Please, you’re going to make me cum.”
You practically screamed as he pressed his mouth further into your core, sucking and licking until you felt the coil snap as you came. Your upper half fell flat against the mattress as you panted, smiling softly as your body continued to twitch.
Eddie’s fingers left your hair and moved to your shoulders as he lifted you back up to your knees so he could see your face.
“This is the last time I’m going to ask, sweetheart. Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Yes, Eddie, I’m sure I want you both inside of me.”
His head tilts to the side at your answer, mostly because it was said correctly, or at least how he liked his questions answered. He wondered if there was a submissive side of you that enjoyed it a bit rougher like they did. Both men NEVER brought that into the bedroom with a client and most of the time none of the women they were with never asked.
You weren’t asking either but he imagined, like they did, that was something personal for you so you saved it for the man you were dating or intimate with.
Eddie shook the thoughts from his head as his hand laced around your neck and brought your lips to his again.
“Seriously, your fiancé is so fucking stupid to let you go.”
You smiled up at him and wrapped your arms around his waist as you yanked him closer to you for a hug. He could get used to this.
“Have you ever done this before?”, Steve asked.
“This exactly, no. Have I ever done anal before? A couple of times. You may need to go a bit slow at first especially since…um…I’ve never had a man, men, as big or thick like you guys.”
You giggle when the boy exhaled again, grabbing your waist, and falling on to the bed with you on top of him. “You have to stop saying things like that. You’re going to kill me!”
“What, do you want me to lie? ‘Oh Daddy. Your cock is average size and will definitely not split me in half.’” Your giggle turned into a full-blown laugh until you notice he had a funny little look on his face. “I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong? I was just—”
Steve leans up, cutting you off with a passionate kiss. “You’re an interesting woman. Eddie’s right. I seriously don’t understand why anyone would cheat on you. If you were mine, I don’t think I’d ever leave your side.”
“Aw…that’s creepy.”, you playfully smiled.
On impulse, he smacked your ass. They never did that first. Sometime a client would ask for a light spank but he just delivered you one he’s only given to bratty girls in his bedroom. He didn’t mean to but something about you made him comfortable.
“Shit. I…I’m sorry.”
You shook your head, dismissing his apology as you kissed him again. Eddie reached over your shoulder to hand his friend a condom and they both hastily tore into the wrapper before sliding it on. His eyes met yours as he leaned back against your mattress and his hands gripped your waist.
“Whenever you’re ready, honey.”
Nodding, you exhaled the nerves as you tipped forward, and slowly lowered your body to his. You both moaned when his tip breached your entrance and Steve craned his neck to watch himself disappear inside of you inch by inch.
“Fuck, baby. That’s it. Take your time.”
You heard the metalhead’s heavy breathing behind you as he stroked his cock at the site before him. The sound caused you to clench and a broken mewl left you as you pushed yourself further onto him.
“Oh my god. You’re so…I can’t…”
His palm glided up your sides to caress your cheek. “Yes, you can, Y/N. You’re doing so good taking me already. Do you want some help?”
When you nodded, he firmly took hold of the back your neck and lowered you till your face was hovering over his. His hips thrust up to meet yours and your mouth fell open.
“That’s it, baby. Good girl. I’m going to do it again, ok?” When you nod again, he pumped into you a couple more times till you felt him bottom out. “Good girl. Such a good girl. Jesus, so fucking tight. You feel so good, pretty girl. It’s Eddie’s turn. Let him know when you’re ready.”
After a few moments and subtly thrusts from Steve, you turned towards his friend and gave him the okay.
Hands spread open your ass and you tightened around the other man again when you felt spit hit your asshole and Eddie’s fingers massaging it in. Your body tensed slightly when the tip of his cock rubbed between your cheeks.
“Sweetheart, if at any point you want to stop, I want you to say ‘Red’ for me, alright? Can you tell me what I just said?”
“If…if—fuck—if I want to stop…say ‘red’.”
“Atta girl.”, he praised as he quickly leaned forward to kiss your temple.
Prepared, Steve’s palms held on to your face as Eddie began to push into your body. Your head started to droop but his grip was stronger than yours. “Y/N, look at me, honey.” When you did what he asked, his thumb extended out to run along your bottom lip. “You’re doing amazing. How do you feel?”
“F-full.” The metalhead licked the pads of his fingers, looping his arm under your body to slowly and softly massage circles into your clit. “Oh my god!”
You tried to collapse against Steve’s chest but he still wouldn’t allow it.
“Holy shit. Y/N, stop moving.”, he scolded in a firm tone before he realized what headspace he was slipping into and reeling himself back into the present. “Baby, not yet. You…you say you’ve never had anyone as big as us. I-I don’t know about, Ed but I’VE never…had a woman as tight as you.” He flashed you a small smile. “I’m trying so fucking hard not to cum right now.”
Eddie’s hair bobbed behind you and the man knew he was nodding in agreement.
“You can—mmm—you can talk to me…like you did. I-I-I don’t mind.”
His eyes scanned over your face as your eyes closed. “Hey, I said keep your eyes open, sweet girl.” You purposely ignored him, grinding your hips forward slightly for good defiant measure. Both men grunted at the action but it was Steve who held your face tighter.
“Look at me, now.” This time you listened. “What did I say, Y/N? Don’t fucking move. You need to be patient, little girl. Do you understand me?”
“Y-yes, I understand.” At that moment, the metalhead’s hips finally connected against yours. “You…you both can…move. Please, I need you to move.”
The man underneath you released your face and circled his arms around you as he pressed you to his chest. When they both thrusted into you at the same time, the euphoria you felt was indescribable. It was like they knew exactly what you needed and where they needed to be. Each stroke was strong and precise, hitting every nerve inside of you, and setting your body ablaze.
“Go-go ahead, princess. You wanted—goddamn—you wanted to move so bad. Take over.” Eddie’s hand came down hard on your behind and you hurriedly (and willingly) did as he commanded. Their grunts and groans drove you crazy, egging you on as you bounced and rolled your hips as fast as you could. The obscene sound of skin hitting skin echoed in your room mixed with your whimpers of pleasure.
It was almost too overwhelming as the ball in your belly began to wind faster and faster. Steve’s grip moved to your hips as Eddie held on to your shoulders.
“Cum, baby. Let go and cum as hard as you fucking can.”, the man under you whispered into your ear. Your forehead fell into the mattress beside his head as they both pounded into you. Their rhythm changed as they slowed, punching the air from your lungs as white blurs your vision. You scream into the bed below you as they fuck you through it, Steve lifting his hand to run his fingers through your hair.
“That’s it. Good-good fucking girl. Taking us both so well.” Eddie tilted forward, placing sloppy, wet kisses against your back as he rolled his hips. He soon followed after you, grunting loudly as he spilled into the condom. Steve, unable to hold back any longer, came as well, smacking his hips against yours and using you to milk himself dry.
#########
Eddie’s eyes blink open as his watch beeps signaling midnight. His eyes take a quick scan of the area, realizing they were still in your apartment. He and Steve were tucked under your sheets but you weren’t between them.
“Steven.” The metalhead reached over to shake his friend’s shoulder. “Steve, wake up.”
“Huh? Wha?”
“Oh my god, you idiot. Steve. WAKE. UP.” Between each word, he firmly punched his arm causing the other man to grumble in anger.
“What?! Why are you in my room?”
“Oh, you know. I thought I could just use a nice Harrington cuddle. WE AREN’T AT HOME!”, he hisses.
Steve rubs his eyes before Eddie’s words sink in and he bolts up right. “Shit. We fell asleep.”
“You don’t say.”
“Shut the fuck up, Munson. Where is she?”
As he shrugs, they both jump out of bed. Steve finds his clothes on the floor but the other boy struggles to find his.
“I know I took them off here.”
“You did.” They both jump at the sound of your voice. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I woke up before you and noticed your clothes had oil on them from when you picked me up so I washed them for you.”, you softly smiled as you handed Eddie his jeans and shirt.
“Um, thank you. You…you didn’t have to do that.”
“It’s no problem. I was hungry to I heated up some left-over pizza if you want some.”
Their eyes scanned over you as you leaned in the doorframe with a mug in your hand. You had changed into an oversized shirt with a metal band that Eddie definitely knew and some sleep shorts. Your hair was a little frayed but to both of them you looked like an angel.
“I mean, you don’t have to. I don’t really know what the protocol is or how this works.”
“Well, to be fair, I’m not sure if you noticed but this whole thing was a bit off script for what we normally do.”, Steve grins as he nervously chuckles. He has no idea what they are supposed to do either.
You silently nodded before turning and heading back out to the kitchen as they follow behind.
“How, uh, how are you feeling?”, Eddie asks.
“Calm. Oddly relaxed. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve felt like this since before I got in engaged.” You hop up onto the counter before meeting their gaze. “Thank you.”
They smile as Steve heads for where their things were as Eddie grabs a slice of pizza. “I made some coffee to if you want some.”
“Did you put our table and all that way?”
“Oh, yeah. I cleaned it to. I’m not sure if you’re supposed to use a certain type of cleaner but I just used my 409. I folded it and placed it by the door with your bags. I, um, I wasn’t sure if when you woke up you’d…want to make a quick getaway.”
They exchanged a look as your head hung.
“Why do you think we would want to do that?” When you shrug at Eddie’s question, he saunters casually over to you and lifts your chin with his fingers. “Let me rephrase. Is that what you want us to do?”
“Do you want us to leave?”, Steve reiterated.
“Like I said, I don’t know…how this works…”
“That’s not what I asked, Y/N.”
“No…I don’t want you to leave.”
They both grin at your answer. “We don’t want to leave either.”
Eddie starts to giggle through his teeth as he jumps on the counter beside you.
“What’s so funny, Munson?”, Steve asks as he comes to lean on the counter across from you both.
The metalhead intertwines his fingers with yours and you lean your head on his shoulder.
“Nothing. Just…this gives a whole new meaning to the term ‘happy ending’.”
#steddie#eddie munson#stranger things#steve harrington#joseph quinn#fan fiction#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson smut#joe keery#steve harrington smut#steve harrington fluff#daddy steve harrington#sir eddie munson#steddie x y/n#eddie fanfic#steddie ask#steve stranger things#steddie x reader#steddie smut#steddie x you#steddie fluff#steddie fanfiction#eddie stranger things
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assorted, and snippet
it is a rainy sunday. we had a glorious last-gasp-of-summer week, 70s and sunny and lovely, and then last night as the sun went down it suddenly got cold and is going to stay that way.
today's my late father's birthday. he'd've been 79 today. farmsister asked the family groupchat if we wanted to do anything special but like, what? no, so we're just having our normal sunday family dinner. she decided to make enchiladas because while the tomatoes are done, there are still tomatillos, so she's roasting those. i decided to thaw a pork butt and i'll make a sort of al pastor kind of pulled pork for the filling, later. but at the moment i'm out in my cabin, which is a disaster area and needs cleaning. but at the moment i'm just listening to the rain on the metal roof, and i have the propane stove on to get it up to room temperature in here, and i'm dying to take a nap but probably won't.
i told myself i could sit for an hour and maybe write. I sorta don't want to write, I sorta want to fuck around and nap, lol. I'm at a bit in Peace-Tied where I'm trying to fold in stuff I wrote ahead that doesn't quite fit now, so that's complicated-- I've been resorting to using two monitors to have the old doc open in a window so I don't have to tab back and forth. But Fit For Thrones is also in an awkward spot where I wrote stuff ahead and like not a lot has changed, but I realized there needed to be a new thread introduced, so I've got to work that in, and I'm realizing a scene I wrote ages ago that was just fluffy and didn't show a lot of character development is going to have to get overhauled to fit the new concept in, which at this point is just a slight complication but later I wanna hang like a whole plot off it, so it's gotta be here-- if I put it in later it won't have any support and might not really properly hold all the weight it needs to, so. And this scene was just fluff anyway and needs more stuff in it. So that's fine. But it's hard. Because of course all I want to do is skip ahead and write the juicy weighty scene this is gonna support. But if I do that (again, as i've been doing a lot in this series, ugh) i'll get there and it won't fit and i'll have to do more of this fiddly kind of work.
I did only miss Friday's update because I was physically too busy at the time, though. It's the wind-down of the farm season but that just means people have started to peel away to do other things, there's not actually a lot less work, and so those of us left are kind of juggling a lot more balls, even if they're less heavy than they were.
(more wittering specifically about FFP behind the cut, and a snippet)
So I have a bunch of stuff allllllmost ready to post, but a bunch of tricky work to do for the continuations of them. There has been a spate lately of very nice comments, some rereaders and some new readers, and I appreciate all of you and it keeps me going, really it does.
I can't find the one, though, someone commented on the latest FFT that they thought Morvran might wind up a bit subby perhaps, and I literally cackled out loud. (Someone else was speculating that he's more traumatized/demi/gray than pure ace, which I also have been trying to convey-- he's ace-spec for sure but gray, is where I'm headed with him.)
I don't think Ciri is going to wind up being particularly domme-y in her preferences-- she also would like a pretty lady to push her around please-- but understand she was raised by a bunch of dommes all around, so I had a very early slightly-cracky notion that she thinks this is how het relationships have to work (this did bear fruit in an outside-of-series published work on AO3 thanks to the Smubbles folks, here: What Every Young Woman Needs)-- but there's an excerpt here I haven't quite yet fit into the FFP continuity, which I suppose I'll put here for everyone's delectation (Ciri POV, of Morvran):
He glanced up only briefly at her arrival, flashing her a quick smile but returning to whatever he was writing, clearly intently focused. She propped a hip on the edge of the desk, waiting, and he finished writing the line and looked up at her.
There was something about the way he looked up at her, like this, something open in his expression that usually wasn’t. It sort of made her want to pull his hair, and made her suddenly understand some things about the way her-- Geralt and Yennefer had acted, around one another. She’d always thought Yennefer was perhaps too mean to Geralt, but she could suddenly understand Yennefer’s perspective, and see that maybe it… well maybe it wasn’t being mean.
But. She didn’t know Morvran near well enough to offer to pull his hair.
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#5.2 NEYMAR JR: ONE NIGHT IN IBIZA (Part 1)
SUMMARY: You and Neymar are back from vacation, finally facing different sides of having a public relationship.
WARNINGS: none actually, some fluff with a minimum of angst and the smallest minimum of smut (literally just one dirty sentence)
PAIRING: Neymar x fem!reader
After spending our last few days in Ibiza, I decided I would stay with Neymar in Paris for another week before I had to leave for my studies.
We arrived only a few hours ago and spent the rest of the day cuddling up in his bed, watching movies and our favorite shows. My phone lit up - an Instagram notification about Neymar tagging me in his story. I smiled at him and shortly pecked his cheek. Since the public found out about us, he wouldn’t go a day without tagging or posting me - he literally mentioned me whenever and wherever he could. "How do you feel about being in the public now?", he asked and took his eyes off of the tv to glance at me. I shrugged, "It's been okay so far I guess. I'm just really hoping I will not get treated differently in university now. And I hope your fangirls will not overcrowd my office once I'm finished." He chuckled before kissing my hand he was holding in his. Those hazel eyes that always looked at me in love and admiration suddenly darkened. Oh, I knew what he had in mind. "Ney, I'm too tired today", I exclaimed laughing while he didn’t seem to care as he climbed on top of me. "Can’t wait to fuck you in your own office, Ms. Lawyer", he smirked before the two of us shared a long, passionate kiss that quickly led to another fun activity.
The next morning I woke up to see Neymar wasn’t in bed anymore. It wasn’t anything new, he always got up earlier than me. When I heard his annoyed groans and cursing though, I got a little worried. Slowly opening the bedroom door, I tiptoed my way into the living room, where I found Neymar talking on his phone. "Yeah okay, whatever. I'll be there tomorrow", he sighed out before hanging up and looking straight at me. "I have to play Saturday, training starts tomorrow." I crossed my arms in front of my chest. "Why? All you asked for was another week off? I'm leaving Sunday", the disappointment in my voice was clearly audible. "I know baby, but Kylian's injured. I can’t leave those idiots hanging", Neymar explained. My lips formed a pout as I nodded. We planned to attend the match anyway, but we were supposed to be watching together instead of me watching him playing. "I'm sorry meu amor", he mumbled while cupping my face in his hands. "Está bem [it’s fine]", I replied, even though it really wasn’t. If it would be only him playing on Saturday I’d be less worried, but him training meant even less time we would be able to spend together. "Hey", he softly said stroking my cheek, "Don't be sad, please. Let’s have some breakfast, get ready and go out, hm?"
Our day went just as planned. Honestly, I've been excited and nervous about going out with Neymar since it would be the first time everyone would see as the couple we actually were, not just friends like we pretended to be before. To my surprise though, there were no paparazzi, barely even any fans interrupting our shopping tour - and most of the fans that came up to us simply wanted to take a picture with Neymar and greeted me nicely. So far, so good, I thought. Until we got out of the sushi restaurant and the paparazzi were already waiting outside. I gasped at the amount of cameras that were directed at me, my body twitched everytime another flashlight lit up. "Que merda [shit]", Neymar mumbled to himself and reached out for my hand. I instantly grabbed his,l while my other hand was busy covering my face. As he started walking through the crowd to get to his car, he squeezed my hand a little tighter. One of the paparazzi shoved his camera right into my face. "Step away from her please", Neymar politely yet demanding said - ignorance being the only response. That one paparazzi got even closer to me, almost tearing apart Neymars and my intertwined hands. He started asking questions like how we both met; why Neymar would be dating me in the first place and finally, if I had serious intentions with Neymar or if it was just money, fame and attention that I was after. That was enough for Neymar to lose his shit. He pushed the camera away from me, making it hit the paparazzi right into his face. "I said step away from her! Filho da puta [son of a bitch]", he shouted out through gritted teeth, pulling me closer to him. As soon as we approached his car, he quickly opened the passenger door for me, slightly pushing me in to avoid anyone else getting closer to me than they were supposed to. Taking a few deep breaths I started calming down a little, instinctively grabbing Neymars hand as soon as he dropped himself next to me. "How did they even know where we're at?", I asked, my voice still a little shaky. Neymar stroked my hand with his thumb while checking his phone. "Oh fuck", he mumbled and turned his phone in my direction, "I thought I saved it as a draft but I must’ve accidentally posted it. I'm so sorry babe." How clever, a photo of our food and the damn location. I tried to keep my angry facial expression while staring at him, but finally bursted out into laughter. He looked at me, relieved but confused. "Why are you laughing? I thought you’d be mad at me."
"I am, actually", I raised my brows at him, "but that’s so typically Neymar. This is something that can only happen to you and no one else, honestly." He shrugged, his lips pressed into a thin line, looking at me with puppy eyes before finally giving me a short kiss and starting the car.
The next few days went by quite ordinary. While Neymar was at training, I tried to distract myself by cleaning the apartment, cooking or simply taking a walk outside. When the day of his match arrived though, the anxiety broke through me again. "Baby, don’t worry! Guilherme and Gil will be with you. I got you seats far from the fans", Neymar reassured me as he tried to calm me down. God, if he only knew I wasn’t scared of the fans but the media talking shit about me again. When the paparazzi caught us back in Ibiza, I instantly got compared to Neymars ex girlfriends, saying I looked nothing like them, talking badly about my appearance, my body, even how I wasn’t photogenic. I truly didn’t care about what they said about how I looked. I was confident enough to ignore it and as long as Neymar viewed me the way he did, I couldn’t care less about how others saw me. When the media started talking trash about our relationship, saying I was just enjoying the luxurious lifestyle Neymar brought to my life and I apparently was only interested in his money, fame and attention though - that actually hurt me. It was hard enough for Neymar to open up after so many people took advantage of him, building up his trust in me was an entire process. I was afraid they would come up with some story that would make him doubt my love for him or even overthink our relationship. But I refused to tell him about what was actually bothering me. I didn’t want to make a scene before anything even happened.
"I have to go now", Neymar finally said, quickly kissing my cheek, "I'll see you there. Gil calls you once he’s here to pick you up!"
The first half of the match went pretty calm, no goals and not too many fouls. I was just happy I didn’t really get noticed by anyone. Only ten minutes into the second half, Neymar scored the first goal for PSG. Guilherme, Gil and I got up from our seats, clapping and cheering. That was when Neymar jogged up to our side of the field and blowed me a kiss with a wide smile on his face. I felt my cheeks blushing as all heads in the crowd turned in my direction. Gil noticed how uncomfortable I gor and decided to distract the crowd by blowing a kiss back to Ney, screaming out "Oh my God, I love you Neymar" in a high pitched voice, acting like a fangirl. I started laughing and sat down again. "That’s Neymars girlfriend, she’s so pretty", a girl a few rows in front of me said. I smiled at her widely as her boyfriend turned around to look at me. "Bruna is prettier", he simply stated. I tilted my head, my smile widened in a provocative way and I waved at him before showing him my middle finger. Guilherme started laughing while Gilmar almost choked on his drink. "Y/N, you can’t do that", he said, "Your Neymar Jrs girlfriend! Adding to that, you’ll be a lawyer soon." I shrugged my shoulders and continued to watch the match. "And what about it? Aren’t lawyers allowed to fight and defend themselves outside of the court?" Guilherme held his hand up for a high five that I returned.
The match ended, PSG won 2-0. The boys and I were waiting for Neymar outside the stadium. "Hey babe", Neymar greeted me and kissed my cheek, Marco following closely behind him. "So you wanna come over to my place and celebrate the win?", Marco asked after politely nodding at me. Neymars facial expression turned from happy into sad as he heavily breathed out. "I can’t", he responded, wrapping one arm around my shoulder, "Y/N leaves tomorrow." Marcos nod told us he was absolutely understanding. "It’s sucks you're already leaving, but it was a pleasure to see you again", he grinned and hugged me before we said our goodbyes and got into our cars.
At the airport, I hid my face in Neymars chest, refusing to let him go as the tears continued to stream down my face. By the way his body slightly flinched from time to time, I knew he was close to tears as well. "Calm down meu anjo, I promise I'll do everything I can to visit you as soon as possible", he whispered, stroking the back of my head and kissing my forehead. I looked up at him and saw a single tear rolling down his cheek. "I love you so much", I sobbed, hugging him even tighter than before, "I really can’t do this anymore. I can’t be this far away from you all the time." Neymar pulled away a bit, only so much that we were face to face. "I'll be there soon, I promise you Y/N. Please keep on focusing on your studies. No matter what happens, I'm right here waiting for you - or waiting for you to call me over. I love you." The last call for my flight. I grabbed my suitcase and fell right into his arms for the ultimate time. "I love you", I repeated again and again until I finally walked away from him slowly, not able to take my eyes off of him.
#neymar#football imagine#football imagines#imagine#imagines#neymar imagine#neymar imagines#neymar jr#neymar fanfic#neymar jr imagine#neymar jr fanfic#neymar jr fanfiction#neymar jr imagines#neymajr#neymarjr#neymar x you#neymar x y/n#neymar x reader#neymar junior#neymar jr masterlist#neymar jr x you#neymar jr x reader#neymar junior x reader#neymar junior x you
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IT WAS ARCANA CHRONICLES AND THE 5 YEAR GAP FOR THE LAST BOOK IS LEGITIMATE LORE. I video called some friends once and told a 15 minute non stop story of the author going missing including like 10 different internet tabs to show different things happening. There were reddit threads over it. Also I thought arcana Chronicles was getting so bad but the second to last book (which originally was supposed to be last as of the day before its release) got good again. Then from the grave was really good again and actually felt developed. I was crying for a better part of an hour reading about everyone's lives and deaths. Then I got to the time jump and was like "oh this is a little weird but okay" then the reincarnation was like ??? Then when they became a throuple I was laughing out loud and no longer crying. I felt like I had this huge long wait for this emotional ending and it was always going to feel like a hole of "what could have been" and then the reincarnation throuple was so funny that I was suddenly healed and could completely dissociate from every emotion that series made me feel. I would have thought it was an amazing ending but now I just think it's funny. What was your experience and how similar was it to mine?
okay so i read the first two books a long time ago from my local library (they didn't have more) and when i later googled the author, i decided to wait until the series was complete. i literally waited for years to read the books and kept thinking about them every few months (i didn't know the author was missing?????????) so when the last one was published i read all of them in like a week which was an entire emotional rollercoaster: at first i thought i would be a classic love interest switcheroo à la ACOTAR but then they both seemed great so i was convinced it would be a throuple, like i would've bet money on it, and the last two books were very stressful because i just didn't see it going there and then when the time jump hit i was so dead emotionally nothing felt real anymore. i think the ending was trying to somehow cater to every fan theory at once but in the end it just felt very hollow to me, and until you mentioned it today i hadn't thought a single time about it since finishing it (which is kinda sad considering i wasn't able to forget it for years before)
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Me after last night's Curse of Strahd session.
Session summary below, definitely some spoilers for later game stuff (Amber Temple).
Also, there's A LOT OF TEXT, I'M SORRY.
Here's a funny discord screenshot, but session recap is below the break.
The gang starts out at the end of a very snowy bridge that looks terrifying to cross. As we get halfway across the statue on top of the other side's archway, it turns into a large white dragon. The dragon is starring daggers into Silas and Silas only. It's paying no attention to anyone else. Silas feels this burn in his chest as it continues to stare. The group decides to keep going as Draz and Brandy surround Silas for protection.
Everyone makes it across. When we get across, the dragon turns away, but Silas sees his mother at the top of the hill ahead. She is waving for him to come up. His mother has been dead for a few years. He knows it's not really her.
From when the dragon appeared, he felt something telling him to come to the temple. This isn't the first time something has told him he needs to come there. As they all stand there, Silas suddenly throws up black sludge, and it's coming from his eyes and nose as well.
The group continues on up to the temple. The walk 5 hours in the snow. They're exhausted, especially Silas and Rudolph (who each took a point of exhaustion). They finally reach the temple, and Draz notices a side entrance.
After a bit of sneaking and hearing some voices, we eventually see some younger crew of the berserkers we met earlier on our trip. They are scared of us at first until Silas mentions the name of one of the people they met from their tribe. They relax and after some conversation we bed down for the night in this side room.
Watches happen:
First watch: Draz and van Richten have another wooden stake making practice session. Draz is getting pretty good at it. He tells Draz that he might make a fine monster hunter out of someone in this group, after all. He mentions to Draz that Silas has a lot of knowledge that could fare useful, but Draz needs to share his knew found knowledge of vampire killing with us to truly be useful.
Second watch: Silas and Ezmerelda chat about a few different things. Fashion, what the sun looks like, and how Rudolph thinks something is wrong with Silas ever since he died and came back. Ez is a little sus of him as well. She brings up even how pale Silas is, but he’s just like no I just look like this. (He truly does just look like that lol).
However, he does tell Ez that he has been experiencing strange things, hearing voices, and feeling drawn to the temple since he came back. He doesn’t talk about the deal he made to come back. I think he fully doesn’t understand everything himself. He then tells Ez that if Rudolph has something he wants to know, he's free to ask Silas himself instead of talking about him behind his back. He then let's slip, "I suppose he's probably avoiding me specifically now, though." That gets Ez's attention, and she's like,"I mean, he typically avoids most people, but why you specifically?" Silas then tells Ez about the letter he wrote and about his feelings for Rudolph. Ez is, of course kinda like ummmm what? Ew, why? about it. She even is like, "When has he ever even been nice to you??" Silas not really wanting to get into everything in his head he just says, "I guess I'm just fucked up. Idk." She just tells him to be careful, but she's also kind of sweet about it and tells him if I want to get "brownie points" with him (then proceeds to tell me that vr told her people say that even though he thinks brownies are gross and that she calls it meat pie points instead) that I should use any knowledge I learn about monsters to impress him and get his attention.
Third watch: Brandy and Kasimir. This watch literally had irl me giggling and kicking my feet during the whole thing. Brandy asks Kas if he's ever been in love. He says there was a girl once, so long ago he doesn't remember her name, but they only went on one outing together. He mentions she was a dusk elf, and Brandy says, "Oh, so she must've had your same beautiful skin tone." This, of course, flusters the hell out of him. She proceeds to tell him about the man she loves and was searching for before she ended up in Barovia while looking for him. His name is Samuel, and he's a pirate. We knew about him before, but she tells Kasimir that she loves him, but she's not sure he loves her back. He never truly made time for her and then just disappeared, and that's why she was looking for him. She is trying to figure out if she really is in love or not. It's been so long. She reaches out for Kasimirs hand. It's super cold, so she uses that to get closer to him. She scoots up next to him and asks if he wants to snuggle under her coat with her to keep warm. He is super fucking awkward, but eventually relaxes and lets her put her arm around him and they spend the rest of the watch snuggled up with small talk. It was literally the cutest thing I WANNA SCREAMMM.
The next morning, they prepare to start exploring the temple. Silas and Kasimir both wake up with headaches, Draz and Brandy can't remember anyone's names (this turns into a bit that actually continues to be so funny the rest of the session), Rudolph is seeing weird shit out of the corners of his eyes. Every seems to be affected in different ways. Silas is irritated from the headache and kinda gets snippy and with that and Draz calling him Sally and calling everyone weird names, Rudolph realized the temple is fucking with us.
We proceed on, with Silas’s use of locate object, they begin their search for the suns sword. He gets several pings of potential swords, so they pick a direction and head down some stairs. About halfway down the stairs, a voice tells us to stop, turn away, and leave. We attempt to communicate and reason with them. We can't see him, but we hear a voice coming from a statue up ahead. He tells us his name is Nefron. As we're talking him down, Brandy is sneaking behind the statue to see who's there. He ends up being this tiny creature. We talk him down, but Brandy gets caught sneaking, so he gets mad again. We think we're safe to cross but when we do a fireball gets shot at us. We fight him and some flame skulls for a bit, but Silas is eventually able to talk him into leaving us alone and we stop hurting him.
We move onto another hallway, eventually we come across a door and Draz is able to force it open.... THIS IS WHERE THE FUN STOPS....🙃😩
Silas’s mother is at the door, waving for him to come in. He just screams out loud, "YOU'RE NOT FUCKING REAL, YOU'RE DEAD! STOP IT!" This of course gets everyone's attention and VR just looks at him super concerned.
Silas, Draz, Ez, and Rudolph go into the room, and there are like 3 amber sarcophagi. We aren't really sure what to do, but suddenly, Silas feels incredibly drawn to one of them. He then hears a familiar voice. The same voice that spoke to him that brought him back to life. The same voice that's been in his head a couple of other times as well. He just hears, "TOUCH IT!" Silas freezes. He hears those words again. He doesn’t know what to do. The door slams shut. Splitting off Brandy and Kasimir outside the room. The voice demands Silas do as he's told, that he promised he would do this in turn for being brought back. As Silas has a full-on panic attack and just stands there crying and yelling, everyone in the room starts taking damage. He continues to say he doesn't want to, but eventually, it gets too much. He sees how hurt Rudolph is getting standing right beside him, and he finally gives in and touches it.
Suddenly, this terrifying being shows itself. It's floating over water, and Silas can almost feel himself floating in the water. He tells Silas his name. Sykane, the thing that brought Silas back. The thing Silas is bound to and must do as it says. Sykane explains what Silas must do in return for getting his life back previously. He must destroy Strahd and destroy Vampyr, who gave Strahd his powers. Then, after that, he must release Sykane and allow him to consume all the souls of Barovia whole, which would unmake them and Barovia. Only Silas hears all of this. The others just see a floating image of Sykane.
Silas is devastated. What has he done. He is thinking to himself he should have never agreed to come back. He should have stayed dead. His fear of death was selfish. After all that ends, Silas is returned to full health and apparently feels something different and new inside him. He runs off crying as the door opens......aaaaaaaand that's where the session ended.
Sooooooooooooooo yeeeeeahhhhh......
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My Mother in Law has now decided that the reason the Kitchen has gone the way of the garbage heap isn't directly because no one is doing kitchen duty ... It's now because "we have two magnets for the Dishwasher and it's obviously confused all of us somehow" and that's why no one is doing kitchen duty properly anymore 😡 Absolute freaking nonsense.
For background: We have a magnet on the Dishwasher that's divided in half. The top half says "Dirty", and the bottom half says "Clean"; in theory the way it's supposed to go is that when you put a new load in and start it up, you turn it to "Clean". And whenever it's unloaded, whoever unloads it turns it to "Dirty".
This worked incredibly well for a while because there was a verbal agreement we made that they (mostly my Father in Law) would unload the dishwasher and I would load it, and the little magnet helped us easily keep track of when that was done since we all live on completely different floors.
Except my Brother in Law moved in after his divorce, and somehow, without any consultation at all, it primarily became his "job" to unload the Dishwasher ... Until suddenly it wasn't, because he just completely stopped doing it out of nowhere for some reason?
My Mother in Law constantly makes excuses for him. Her favorite being that it was "because he got a job and his job works him long and odd hours"- which absolutely isn't an excuse in this house because two of us are disabled and the other two work over 50 hours a week minimum and we're all still also still pulling all our weight just fine; in reality, it's because he's legitimately just lazy as hell.
It truly doesn't help, though, that everyone else but me in this house is completely incapable of performing even the most bare basic acts of domesticity ... Like wiping the counter down immediately after spilling something (they will literally let a spill sit there for weeks). Or rinsing the dishes after you're done with them (rinsing? never heard of her). Or even stacking the dishes to begin with so that they're not clogging counterspace (and then they will complain about not having the counterspace to do anything!). Or like, not piling shit in the sink for days on end (no but seriously stop it, it's disgusting and it smells) ????
And so, like, pretty much the second anyone but me touches the Kitchen, it becomes a literal garbage pile on every conceivable surface. And after a whole year of this nonsense, I've just give up entirely; I'm so tired of being literally the only one to actually clean the kitchen in any significant capacity- but especially of watching it get trashed to the seven Heavens within 5 seconds of doing so because no one can do basic tasks. And no one's honoring the agreement we had in place anymore anyways, so why bother?
Which of course led to passive aggressive bullshit like the time she tried to subtly imply that I specifically needed to be the one doing more around the kitchen literally two days after I was the one who deep cleaned it, because all of their dishes had already taken back over everything; meanwhile now I clean my own stuff as I go now, exactly as I use it, with very limited exceptions. Screw their stuff entirely.
But now she's blaming it all on the fact we had two of those stupid little magnets, I guess 🙄 And I just know that my Husband's decision 4 days ago to start unloading the dishwasher for me every single day at 7:00 pm (since no one else in this hell hole will) so that I can finally have some semblance of a life back in this damned house (because we finally figured out that a lot of my lack of motivation and energy is coming from the kitchen and its constant state of hell) is going to be credited to her removing one of them today.
It's so infuriating because none of them can just own up to the fact that they are themselves the disgusting little rat gremlins when it comes to the kitchen; I'm so tired. I just want my own place again.
#Personal#Multigenerational Households Are Fun Until They're Not#Life Of A Disabled Homemaker#2022#NonTrad Housewife#NonTrad Homemaker#Pagan Homemaker#Pagan Housewife#Homemaker#Homemaking#Housewife#NonTrad Homemaking#Pagan Homemaking#Hearthkeeper#Queer Homemaker#Queer Homemaking#Queer Housewife#Disabled Homemaker#Disabled Housewife#Disabled Homemaking
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I think after defeating Ketheric is the first time in the story when I'm letting my boy let his unending kindness.... falter a little bit. Just a little.
Semi-coherent 3 am ramblings under cut.
It seems like almost an "act 2 end" staple for me, but... this "midpoint climax" in many games IS, I feel, the natural point for a lot of good-aligned, well-intentioned protagonists to crack a little, and Arvid is no different.
Like. He just came back from what was essentially his *worst fucking nightmare*, having fought the avatar of a quasi-god (and learned that he's gonna have to do that, oh, two more times, just for funsies), having talked his boyfriend out of exploding himself (which was a very shitty, if short conversation, because apparently Gale is nothing if not easily convinced by the words "choose me, the one who loves you"), and overall having a CONSIDERABLY WORSE THAN AVERAGE TIME FOR THE PAST, OH, SEVERAL DAYS (with the Shadowfell, and the watching allies die left and right, and the GOING BACK TO THE MIND FLAYER FLESH-CABINS WHICH IS FUN), and already everyone wants MORE from him.
You know, as if this whole day wasn't, like, one deeply traumatic experience after the other. As if these past weeks hadn't been pushing him slowly towards a breaking point.
The dream visitor is acting... kinda suspicious and cagey, as per usual (she's dodging questions and speaking in confusing metaphors while doling out insurmountable-seeming tasks, which is just 👍👌🤙🖕), Wyll is immediately having himself a little storytime moment that he probably should have thought to have weeks ago ("btw my eye is a sending stone that enables Mizora the Literal Devil to track my every move" IS KIND OF A BIG DEAL, MAN, YOU COULD HAVE, IDK, MENTIONED THAT SOMETIME OVER THE PAST THREE WEEKS OR SO), Gale is understandably feeling wild and wired after that weird, partially self-imposed near-death experience (which, idk about you, but an "I'm glad we survived babe, are you okay" would have been at least appreciated BEFORE the whole "YO DID YOU SEE THAT POWERFUL ARTEFACT, I WANT IT" thing), everyone in that damn room wants something else from him ("hey, sorry I was an asshole earlier after you saved my life, why don't you help me more! Won't tell you how or why or with what tho!", "hey you're back having done what's supposed to have been impossible, so what's up with Thaniel, the issue you solved literally a week ago already, I wasn't paying attention lol", and the likes, even Withers is being fucking weirder than usual)...! Jaheira and Astarion seem to be the only ones to offer any kind of praise, or optimistic feedback, which is already weird...!!! But the others? "Oh, hey, you're back. So, when are you gonna do that again (or this other, different thing for me)?"
Like... thanks? I guess I'll just go fuck myself then???
The poor boy just wants to take the most intense bath of his life (sit in a lake somewhere for a few hours, get the illithid-sludge off his body and scrub his skin until it's no longer blue but flushed, raw, and purple, maybe then he's going to feel clean again and less *hyper-aware* of the wriggling in his skull), get roaring drunk to at least momentarily forget the monumental task ahead, cuddle up to his dog, owlbear, and/or boyfriend, and go to sleep in a fetal position for the next 48 hours. Maybe cry a little or punch something, he hasn't decided yet.
Just... everyone seems to be forgetting that he's just Some Guy. Even if he turned out to be some chosen one, he's unaware of it. As far as he knows, he's just a random priest from the countryside who only ended up in the city like a year ago because the church there needed a new healer, and suddenly, after getting abducted and his BRAIN wormed, he's everyone's go-to guy for god-killing. He barely knows anyone, has no family (or really friends or personal connections deeper than the superficial outside of the party), nobody misses him where he's from (which is no longer his home, but neither is Baldur's Gate), and he doesn't even know if he's doing the right thing at any given time, messing with forces he doesn't understand. But everyone just wants MORE, and MORE, and MORE, and he's giving more and more, as much as he can, only he's not sure how much more he has left.
So yeah, he's gonna snap at- and be a bit short with Art, even if Halsin doesn't like it. Yeah, he's gonna be a little snide to the cagey gnome that all but told him to fuck off previously. He's gonna be a little impatient towards the skeleton-man doling out poetic brain-teasers for him to solve while he's still bleeding profusely, from several wounds. He's gonna give a couple fewer fucks about Isobel's reunion with her gf after having already figured out who she is (it's. Not like that was a hard feat. Those dots were not particularly hard to connect. He has an intelligence of 10 and he still figured it out.) than he would otherwise. He's, like, happy for them and all, but would be MANY TIMES happier if someone just handed him a sandwich and a glass of water, and said "hey, good job".
I have not yet gone back to camp or left the building after the return last night, but I'm hoping there's gonna at least be a chance to unwind before we'd march on. :/
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My Favorite Albums of 2020, 30-21
30. HEALTH, DISCO4 :: PART I
Favorite Tracks: POWER FANTASY | HATE YOU | DELICIOUS APE
HEALTH’s music is the definition of cyberpunk: a resumé that includes composing video game soundtracks and having a song called CYBERPUNK 2.0.2.0 seem like worthy criteria. However, the beauty of DISCO4 is its ability to show how extensive cyberpunk can get, with features ranging from Xiu Xiu to Soccer Mommy. The album’s moody glitched-out noise rock made my late night bike rides feel like a scene from Akira in the best way possible. I highly suggest the “POWER FANTASY” music video, where a bizarre heart-shaped monster runs through a Sonic the Hedgehog 2-inspired 3D half pipe, visits various deceased celebrities after getting a game over, and then takes a hit of DMT for an ultimate tripped out power-up. It’s just…the best.
29. Caribou, Suddenly
Favorite Tracks: Never Come Back | Ravi | Lime
It’s hard to define Suddenly, with its amalgam of pop, electronic, disco, techno, R&B, and experimental production serving as the basis for Daniel Snaith’s poignant songwriting. Having been released on February 28th, this swirl of emotional textures fittingly paralleled the surreal chaos of early March. After making the decision to return home to Oklahoma as it became clear that the virus was going to ravage NYC, I spent one last night with my best friends I had made in the city. It was a rainy night, and the bus I was supposed to take home never arrived (classic). I decided to walk home instead, listening to Suddenly as I passed the Harlem storefronts and streets I had become so familiar with. It was eerily quiet, like everyone had the sense that things were about to change: the calm before the storm. As I said a temporary goodbye to the life I had began just months ago so starry-eyed, Suddenly was evocative of an unpredictable rainstorm, washing away expectation and forewarning of the world’s caprice.
28. Rina Sawayama, SAWAYAMA
Favorite Tracks: XS | STFU! | Comme des Garçons
In November, I got really interested in the Y2K aesthetic for various reasons: nostalgia, for one, but mainly because of the interesting parallels it had to 2020. It seemed like the 20-year cultural cycle was in full force: the all-encompassing nature of technology that was present in the dot com boom of the late ‘90’s and the anxiety of the electrical grid shutdown at the turn of the millennium was an interesting parallel to the rapid rise of social media, the sudden shift of our entire lives onto Zoom, and their literal impacts on individual and societal mental health. The presence of catastrophe also played a factor, with the consequences of global and political crises changing culture permanently. Looking to music of the era was fascinating to me as I considered the rise of bubblegum pop like boy bands and Britney Spears and the simultaneous fall of rock into either weird nu-metal, pop-punk, or indie: what cultural lessons could be learned from such a transitionary period? This is where SAWAYAMA comes in: it’s like an audio scrapbook of everything I remember from my early 2000’s childhood, from the sumptuous aesthetics in fashion and media, the callow angst of pop-punk YouTube music videos, and even the Utada Hikaru-inspired J-pop that I was obsessed with from playing hours of Kingdom Hearts. Sawayama combines all of these ideas into a package undeniably contemporary and surprisingly refreshing, reviving the escapism and catharsis of the 2000’s that’s sorely needed in 2020.
27. Tennis, Swimmer
Favorite Tracks: Need Your Love | Runner | Swimmer
This album released at an interesting time of the year, as I mostly remember listening to it back in February pre-pandemic. Its schmaltzy, breezy, retro sound was great for mentally transporting away from the cold city and onto a yacht somewhere delightfully corny like Key West. The kitschy but sincere romance of the album was also fitting for the Valentine’s Day release, like a meaningful handwritten note in an overpriced Hallmark card. Perhaps it was this cheesiness that kept this album in rotation: the idealized romcom narrative of the band was like an alternate reality that I could cling to throughout the stresses of the year, reinforced by the fact that the dreamy pop production sounds so pleasant. Swimmer is an innocent daydream for better times, and it only serves to strengthen Tennis’ near decade-long indie pop legacy.
26. Dirty Projectors, 5EPs
Favorite Tracks: Lose Your Love | Overlord | Self Design
On 5EPs, Dirty Projectors has something for everyone: the collection is a compilation of EPs released throughout 2020, each representing different musical influences and featured vocalists of the current Dirty Projectors cast. With such a storied career and multiple changes in band lineup, 5EPs allowed me, as a relatively new fan, to get a taste of both the group’s previous sounds and hints at what their sound may be moving forward. Each new EP release was unexpected but welcome, and as a Time Crisis fan I was excited to see which Jake Longstreth painting would be featured on the new EP album cover. The project’s episodic release flowed along with my experiences in 2020, mostly soundtracking the crunchy eco-friendly ethos that got me through the year. Folksy-trippy songs like “Overlord” on EP1 Windows Open and “Lose Your Love” on EP2 Flight Tower were on constant repeat during my WFH backyard sunbathing sessions and summer camping trips. The chill bossa nova influence throughout EP3 Super João was perfect for camp sunrises and a damn fine cup of coffee. Listening to the modulated orchestral sounds throughout EP4 Earth Crisis while hiking through the Catskills forest instantly transported me to somewhere like Middle-earth, or an episode of Over the Garden Wall. The last EP, EP5 Ring Road, is where Dirty Projectors sound most at home, which is also where I spent the most time listening to this EP: the many autumn and winter nights spent in my room this year were warmer with Dirty Projectors’ signature art rock, and I can confidently say that this collection put a smile on my face all throughout the year.
25. Oneohtrix Point Never, Magic Oneohtrix Point Never
Favorite Tracks: Lost but Never Alone | Long Road Home | I Don’t Love Me Anymore
Magic Oneohtrix Point Never is an album we were never meant to hear; at least that’s how I felt when I first listened to this album. The distorted splices of old radio segments sound forbidden, like I was digging up the graves of these forgotten pieces of media and hearing their acoustic corpse. This album reminds me of the saying that you die twice, once when you stop breathing and the second when someone mentions your name for the last time. It’s evocative of abandoned event spaces or decrepit amusement park rides; places that used to bring people joy but are now simply spatial husks. In Magic OPN, Daniel Lopatin serves as the urban explorer capturing the dark beauty of these remnants, offering the voices of those sampled a temporary reanimation through his grungy classical electronica with eerie success.
24. The Avalanches, We Will Always Love You
Favorite Tracks: Interstellar Love | We Will Always Love You | Born to Lose
I listened to this for the first time as the snow fell outside my bedroom window, the December release date making it a late contender for this list. We Will Always Love You was already one of my favorite songs of the year and I had high expectations for these masters of sample notorious for taking their time with each release. Thankfully we only had to wait four years since The Avalanches’ last album, arriving a quarter of the time sooner than the 16-year gap between Wildflower and debut album Since I Left You. We Will Always Love You takes a noticeably different approach than the previous two, sounding much more personal: it’s in the quiet moments where the album really shines, evocative of deeply intimate conversations that only happen during late night drives. The samples are now more than just sonic ingredients; they serve as stories, vignettes of small moments of tenderness. The album is celestial; each song is as if an astronaut had the ability to pick a random spot on earth and hone in on exactly what one person was feeling in that moment: longing, joy, triumph, sorrow, nostalgia, pain, fear, and contentment are all here, and We Will Always Love You reassures us that allowing ourselves to feel it all is the purest act of humanity in an impossibly difficult year.
23. Empress Of, I’m Your Empress Of
Favorite Tracks: Bit of Rain | Maybe This Time | Give Me Another Chance
I’m Your Empress Of is strong because it focuses on identity: clips of Lorely Rodriguez’s chats with her mother about womanhood and her Honduran immigrant history reminded me so much of talks with my dad about what it means to be a man and anecdotes of his own experience coming to the United States from the Philippines. This context grounds Rodriguez’s own lived experience as a young American dealing with love and heartbreak to her storied heritage: it’s hard to explain, but any immigrant kid will know the difficulty of growing up and trying to live as a “normal” (aka: white) teenager/young adult while still honoring our family’s traditions, culture, and expectations. This incorporation of the first-generation American experience into relatable lyricism is Rodriguez’s form of radical reclamation: the songs are dancey and fun but never generic, with the electronic production serving as a vehicle for an American perspective often overlooked.
22. Tame Impala, The Slow Rush
Favorite Tracks: Posthumous Forgiveness | On Track | Breathe Deeper
The Slow Rush was another album a long time in the making, having been released five years after seminal 2010’s album Currents. Originally set to be released in the spring of 2019, I was admittedly a little disappointed when the only new songs I got to hear Tame Impala perform live that summer were “Patience” and “Borderline” (in 2020 hindsight, I’m thankful I was fortunate enough to go to a musical festival at all). It was finally released One More Year later: the fully-formed album The Slow Rush takes a bit of a turn, moving away from the wavy stoner break-up vibes of Currents into something more mature, incorporating throwback R&B, acid house, and aspects of prog rock into Tame Impala’s signature modern psychedelia. While the shift certainly left some longtime Tame fans lamenting the old Kevin Parker, the prospect of hearing a Tame Impala song in a mix at a Bushwick club was definitely exciting for me: the sonic influences on this album are genres that I have been increasingly interested in over the past year, and it’s great to see a major band unafraid to change up their sound. Tame Impala joins the ranks of contemporary indie stalwarts (Fleet Foxes, Bon Iver, Vampire Weekend) that have completed an excellent four album cycle. Who knew my Spotify was going to look so similar seven years later?
21. Dua Lipa, Future Nostalgia
Favorite Tracks: Don’t Start Now | Hallucinate | Break My Heart
This summer, I always looked forward to driving around and listening to the radio because I knew I was guaranteed to hear “Don’t Start Now” at least once, probably twice. Later in the summer, it turned into a guaranteed “Don’t Start Now” or “Break My Heart.” Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, even later in the year it turned into a guaranteed “Don’t Start Now,” “Break My Heart,” or “Levitating,” probably all three. Hearing Dua Lipa dominate the charts brought me so much joy! I’ve been a fan of Dua Lipa since One Kiss, and her music always puts a dumb smile on my face and gets me vibing: anything that instantly invites a groove is a welcome respite from the absurdity of 2020. The retro revival that Dua Lipa embraces is tasteful and fun, and her voice sounds right at home surrounded by the driving basslines and disco strings throughout the album. This is Top 40 at its peak.
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𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮 𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘝𝘐𝘐 - 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙚) || sub!bucky barnes x dominatrix!reader
(𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘐) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘐𝘐) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘝) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘝) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘝𝘐)
𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || the finale.
𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 3.5k
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || fluff, angst, implied smut, domestic goodness, more EMOTIONS!!!
six months ago...
Bucky wrung his hands a few times before knocking on your door, feeling his heart beat a little faster when he could hear the sounds of your footsteps on the other side. He'd been dreaming of a day like this for so long— the day he finally acted on this secret obsession he had, the day he stopped fantasizing and started realizing— but all this time, part of him had never really thought he'd go through with it. I mean, there's a pretty big difference between jerking off to videos of dominant women and actually getting spanked, slapped, and choked by a dominatrix after paying her an insane amount of money per hour.
But frankly, Bucky needed a big difference from what he'd been doing. He'd been alone for a little too long, he needed someone else's touch before he lost his mind. And he knew that he needed something more substantial than a hook-up, someone who wouldn't expect him to be dominant at all. Even in a kink-less, vanilla hook-up, there’s still an onus of dominance, that’s what Bucky had realised. He’s still supposed to initiate, to guide, to be fully in control… and he hates how it feels to be in control. He’s not used to it, and it doesn’t feel right, and it just makes him sure he’ll do something wrong. So here he was, standing at your door, hoping you’d take away his freedom to do something wrong.
The latch turned and you opened it.
Fuck.
You looked great. Too great, almost overwhelming. Even better than the pictures on your website.
You looked so much softer than the women he saw whenever he searched up femdom porn (yes, that was pretty much the first thing he did once he figured out google— thankfully he had also figured out incognito mode), but your presence was twice as commanding. Your eyes scanned over him quickly and your face stayed annoyingly stoic.
You invited him in; And since then, you’d had him wrapped around your finger.
Even knowing to a certain extent what he was getting into, he could’ve never prepared for how quickly he’d fall for you. Not that he was exactly new to the feeling, but he thought guilt might eat him alive: because of course he felt awful for developing real feelings for you. You were just doing your job and he was falling into the same trap that probably every dumbass client fell into.
Or maybe they actually knew what they were doing and understood how to separate fantasy from reality. He couldn’t decide which one was worse.
He spent a few hours trying to decide while staring up at his ceiling— certainly a better way to spend the time than being social or taking care of unfinished business, right?
But leave it to you to change everything with just three words. Make me yours.
He hadn’t stopped thinking about those words— or about the way you said them— since the moment you spoke them. He hadn’t stopped changing his mind on if he could really believe you were his or not. He wanted to, more than anything; and in those brief moments he did, he felt a joy that he had no idea what to do with.
He frowned as he turned his back towards the mirror, looking over his shoulder to watch his finger run over the fading scars on his back. They’d be gone for good in less than a week, but he knew you had left plenty of permanent marks on him— just unfortunately not those that anyone else could see. He liked the way these scars looked under your fingertips much more than his; he liked everything about being in your arms.
Since you’d texted him to ask if you could have a serious talk with him soon, he worried he wouldn’t get to feel that again. In fact, nothing worried him more.
He was typically antsy as he waited for you to answer the door— he had been since that very first time so long ago— but this felt entirely different: not as jittery, but a thousand times more anxious.
At first he’d been wishing you’d answer it right away, but then he heard your bolt turn and panic landed on him like a dangling anvil dropping on a cartoon character. Suddenly the last thing he wanted was for you to open that door, to be standing there looking all perfect and shit, to smile at him and greet him and invite him in. He didn’t want it; he couldn’t take it.
But you did it all anyway, though it was obviously and immediately a new situation entirely, compared to every other time you’d done it.
You were dressed differently, still formal but definitely toned down. Nothing sexual, at least not objectively. And your smile, though it still made his heart skip a beat just like always, was noticeably softer and maybe a bit sadder.
He stepped in past you, and you surprised him by sitting next to him on the couch rather than across from him on your chair. “Do you want, like, water or anything?” you asked, breaking the silence for a moment.
“No, I’m fine,” he nodded.
Bucky had gotten pretty good at silence these past few years; it didn’t bother him, in fact he barely even noticed it. But this silence made him remember why everyone else hated silence so much: it was heavy and thick and made him overcome with the need to blurt something out. “Everyone calls me Bucky,” he finally admitted. You smiled.
“Do you want me to call you that?” you asked.
He considered your question, trying to imagine you saying it. “I… I used to think it would be better, but now I like the way you say ‘James’ too much.”
“If you thought it would be better, why did you ask me to call you James?” you pressed.
“Because I didn’t want you to know who I was.”
“I know who you are,” you informed him. “I always knew.”
He swallowed as the pit formed in his gut, glancing away to hide from your gaze. “You did a good job of… of pretending you didn’t. You never seemed scared of me.”
“Because I wasn’t. And I’m not.”
He couldn’t imagine how; but then again, if there was any truly fearless woman, he figured it would be you. “I thought you’d beat me up better if you knew what I’d done,” he admitted, almost smiling but not exactly feeling very happy. “Thought you might want… revenge.”
“Surprised that didn’t make you want to tell me.”
He laughed a bit at that. “Yeah, fair enough.”
You asked him a very different question next, one that made his throat suddenly dry: "Have you ever had something that was all your own?" you spoke gently.
"Not for a long time…" he trailed off, letting his eyes unfocus as he stared down at your floor before finding the courage to look up at you again. “Is that what you wanna be?” he asked, already wishing he hadn’t said anything in case it was too presumptuous, but you just smiled back at him in a shy sort of way.
“Something like that,” you mitigated.
His eyes darted around your face— from your eyes glancing away, to your lips that you gnawed on for a moment, to the little crease between your brows— and he found himself leaning forward before he even realized it. “Can I kiss you?” he asked quietly.
You didn’t answer, you just kissed him first; he was so relieved that you did it, too, that you took control so easily and just let him melt into your kiss. As good as it felt to submit to you, he enjoyed the new freedom he had in this moment as well— the freedom to reach up and grab your waist, to brush his hand over your hair, to tilt his head and deepen the kiss further.
It was hard to define exactly where it went from innocent to sensual to sexual, but by the time you were straddling his lap and running your fingers through his hair, it was definitely sexual.
“I want you,” you breathed against his lips.
“Have me,” he offered immediately, “I’m yours. Always was.”
He breathed in sharply when you moved your hips just right to rub up against his swelling cock through his jeans, making him grip your waist a bit harder. “Good boy,” you whispered. “You’re so good, James.”
He believed you this time, finally.
For your first real date, he took you to Coney Island. Not the classiest affair, and he promised to take you somewhere really nice next, but you didn’t mind. It was jarring to see you in casual clothes for the first time, something summer-y and light which was everything opposite to how he was used to seeing you; but he liked it, and he liked knowing a secret about you as you walked through a crowd of carnival-goers that were none the wiser.
He walked you through the fair and explained how he remembered it, showed you the few things that hadn’t changed much. He bought you a hot dog and even won you a prize at one of the games; that one where you throw a baseball and it measures your pitch speed? Yeah, it’s rigged, but he pitched lefty and it seemed to even everything out. (It’s not cheating, okay? It’s beating them at their own game, literally.)
So with a massive teddy under one arm and his waist wrapped in your other, you two walked through the winding pier, under twinkling lights and over walkways towering over the ocean below. And then you fooled around a bit on the ferris wheel. It was the ideal Coney Island experience, for sure.
Bucky didn’t have a ton of friends, per se, but he was excited for you to meet them. Meeting friends was certainly a step, though; hopefully a step you were willing to take, but he didn’t want to ask you to do it without at least having a title to introduce you with.
“I want you to be my girlfriend,” he finally told you.
“I kinda thought I already was,” you laughed.
And so, with more pride than he might have ever had for anything before, Bucky finally got to take you to meet everyone (‘everyone’ being a mix of his friends and his coworkers, who may or may not be his friends because he couldn’t always tell) and say “I want you guys to meet my girlfriend.”
Of course you were amazing with all of them; you continued that tactful “I know who you are but I’m pretending I don’t to be nice” thing that you’d started with him, and everyone seemed to appreciate it. You cracked a couple jokes, everyone laughed.
You lied about how you and Bucky met, or at least answered very strategically. Everyone at least pretended to believe you.
Afterwards, they all said something about how great you were or about how lucky he was. The only thing he ever said back was “I know.”
Now that he could kiss you without breaking any rules, he never wanted to stop. He hardly ever did, actually. He kissed you basically whenever he could get the chance; you two didn’t even go out much anymore because he wasn’t very good at keeping his hands to himself, but you weren’t exactly complaining about staying in. You were too busy kissing him back, and teasing him mercilessly while you were at it, to do that.
You had already found the fastest way to get him needy and begging, not that any way took very long. If you kissed him while you straddled his lap, wrapping your arms around him and slowly grinding against him, he lost it in minutes. And you really seemed to get a kick out of watching him lose it, just as much as always.
It made him realize that the way you looked at him before, in sessions and scenes together, was a lot less of an act than he’d assumed at the time. He just thought you were a really good actress, or that he was really whipped; and maybe the first was true, and the second was absolutely true, but regardless it had become clear that you had it almost as bad as he did from the beginning. It gave him even more respect for how well you controlled yourself, he certainly hadn’t had much self-control at the time— after all the whole ordeal was about losing control, and occasionally about trying to gain it back.
He didn’t ask you to quit your job. He didn’t want or expect you to; but you did cut down your hours, which gave the two of you more time together.
To be totally honest, part of him got a bit titillated to imagine you with your other clients. He didn’t like the idea of other men touching you, but he smirked at the thought of them begging to touch you and being denied; he liked knowing that you didn’t do with them even half of the stuff you’d done with him when he was your client.
But he wasn’t your client anymore. He was your boyfriend, and he wanted the world to know it.
six months later...
He let you struggle to reach the top shelf for a moment, just because you looked cute on your tip-toes with the tip of your tongue sticking out of the corner of your mouth, before he finally relented and helped you grab the bottle of rice wine vinegar.
“Thanks,” you smiled as he set it in the cart.
After that you let him grab everything, content to stand on the end of the cart and push you around as you reminded him what else you needed.
“We’re out of Captain Crunch!” you remembered as he passed the cereal aisle, pointing to try to get him to turn.
“Yes, and we need to stay that way,” Bucky explained sternly, “that shit is addictive. Only way to avoid it is to not have it in the house.”
You frowned but accepted that he was absolutely right, though you groaned when he took you to the refrigerated section to stock up on chicken breasts. “I swear, you would eat these for breakfast if you didn’t think I’d judge you for it,” you joked.
“What’s wrong with chicken breasts?”
“They’re just so… bland!”
“Not if you season them right,” he corrected.
“Which you don’t,” you rolled your eyes. “Come on, at least splurge on some chicken thighs. They’re basically the same but so much more flavorful.”
“Fine, but no more making fun of my cooking,” Bucky decided, placing the breasts back on the shelf and grabbing two packs of thighs instead. “I’m still adapting to 21st century sensibilities.”
“Right,” you nodded, though he caught your smile in the corner of his eye— you knew he couldn’t exactly claim to still be as conservative as he was raised to be in every way.
Like any well-planned grocery run, it ended at the frozen section where you got some fruit bars and frozen vegetables (you had this theory that frozen vegetables tasted better in fried rice than fresh ones, and so far you’d proven him right) and he got a pizza to have for dinner in a pinch. When shopping alone before, he always did self-checkout to avoid being seen anymore than he had to… he still did it with you, but he didn’t even think about who might be looking at him, because all he saw was you.
You drove for this trip, and he always felt oddly soothed by riding passenger with you at the wheel. He liked to close his eyes and lean back a bit, or occasionally look over at you (but if he did it too much you complained that he was being creepy and distracting you). It shouldn’t be too much of a surprise that he enjoyed the feeling of you taking control, considering everything, but it was one of those little ways that he hadn’t expected. He just felt so comfortable, so safe with you, and never he felt like he was a burden for asking you to take the lead when he didn’t trust himself with it. And that applied to everything— driving, cooking, speaking up in crowds, all those little things that sometimes made him anxious.
There were some things he didn’t have any trouble being dominant about, though. He was very protective of you, for example, and tended to be uptight about how late you went out for walks or where you should be going alone. And he didn’t struggle to ask you for what he wanted— he was getting a lot better at asking for help, specifically.
He used to ask you to say that you loved him, instead of just saying ‘I love you’ himself, because for some reason it was easier to make you do it first. It started as something he’d beg for in the throes of passion, fingers digging into your skin as his eyes watered (as they often did in intimate moments): please, say you love me— jus’ need to hear you say it, please? And you were always sweet about it in return, of course I love you, James, my good boy, I love you so so much. But then he’d ask you to say it whenever he felt like it— he’d come up behind you while you were reading or cooking or something and kiss the top of your head or the shell of your ear and try to act nonchalant as he asked you love me, right?
You’d laugh and roll your eyes before you answered, but it was, thankfully, always a ‘yes.’ Eventually you figured out how often you needed to say it to make him stop asking all the time, which was probably a little too often.
“I love you,” you blurted out randomly as you turned on your signal and leaned a bit to make sure it was safe to make a left— case in point.
“I love you too,” he answered back with a smile.
“I don’t mind saying it so often,” you added, “but you know that I love you even when I’m not saying it, right? I love you all the time.”
It was a simple question, probably mostly rhetorical, but it hit him harder than he expected. “Yeah, I know,” he managed to get out evenly enough that you didn’t notice he was tearing up a bit.
He put the groceries away while you took the trash out; you liked to keep the fridge pretty organized, and it was an adjustment at first, but by now Bucky had it down pat. Before you, he hadn’t even considered that the contents of a refrigerator could be aesthetically pleasing.
Dinner was leftovers in front of the TV— you two were almost done with Frasier, but after that you had ten seasons of Friends to get through. You had tried to encourage him to watch more challenging stuff— you know, True Detective, Hannibal, dark cerebral stuff with arguably more artistic merit than classic sitcoms— but Bucky had had enough darkness in his life that he didn’t need it in his fiction. Maybe he’d find the time to catch up on the last 80 years of dramas and murder mysteries after he caught up on the last 80 years of comedy.
After dinner you were going to do yoga and Bucky, not in the mood to embarrass himself with that, retired to the bedroom a bit early to read his book— he’d heard a lot about this Harry Potter guy and now that he was on the fourth book and could hardly put it down, he understood the hype. He related a bit to the unwilling war hero in its protagonist; most of the time the series enthralled him, but occasionally something would hit too deep and he’d have to put it away for a couple days. At the moment, though, he was in one of the easy parts where it was just about schoolwork and childhood antics.
He instinctively glanced at the door when he heard you open it— he wasn’t sure how long it had been time-wise, but he’d gotten through quite a few pages— but he only quickly looked up at you as you shut the door behind you, before returning his attention to the book he was reading. “So, Bucky…” you began.
“Yeah?” he mumbled.
“James.”
It wasn’t any one thing that got his attention— not just the tone of your voice or the way it got a bit deeper, not just the look you gave him, not just the way the air of the room seemed to shift all at once. It was everything about you that made his body react instantly. He shut the book and set it aside, sitting up straight to look at you expectantly.
And you seemed to notice his instinctual obedience, considering you just barely smirked at him, raising an eyebrow as he spoke his reply: “Yes, Mistress?”
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I just love your writing and have been reading a lot of your stuff these past few days. I really enjoyed how you wrote Logan Howletts character, you did an amazing job. I think of those two stories you wrote as connected, and seeing that your requests are open, could you write possibly how they meet or moments in their relationship? Whatever comes to mind.
Hope your well and enjoy writing this if you decide to take it. ❤️
It makes me so incredibly happy that you have been loving my stories and my portrayal of Logan :’). Logan and reader’s first meeting had been previously requested so I went with a few moments in their relationship. Thank you for being patient with me in posting this, I hope you enjoy and that you are doing well <3.
↞↠↞↠↞↠
A Second-First Meeting
“You’re Logan.” Storm let out a melodic chuckle, her realization breaking the silence within the jet.
“Uh...yeah.” He said with a quirked brow. The ivory haired woman’s jaw went slack and another giddy laugh erupted from her. Logan's eyes darted from the oddly acting woman to Rogue who only shrugged, looking just as confused as he was.
“Logan from Canada.” She stated in semi-awe, looking him up and down as if comparing him to information she already had. It made Logan feel like he was missing something.
“He looks dirtier than she described.” Scott let out a snarky huff from the pilot’s seat.
“Okay, what is this?” Logan rose his voice to just below a growl, irritation evident in his tone. Storm put her hands up in harmless defense.
“You met Y/N in the summer. Saved her from becoming a prune all alone in the woods, remember?” Storm said and beamed brightly. Logan’s eyes widened as the memory came flooding back. The bears, the beautiful girl, the thunderous storm and her lightening energy.
“You know Y/N?” He said in disbelief.
“Know her? She’s my best friend.” Storm giggled. “She told us all about you; how she fended off that bear but didn’t have to fend you off when you guys huddled up in your car.”
Storm winked at him as he narrowed his eyes at her teasing. Rogue let out a little giggle of her own at Logan’s speechlessness.
“We’re landing.” Scott announced as everyone began feeling their smooth decrease in altitude.
“All jokes aside, thanks for looking out for her.” Storm added with a kind smile before she swiveled in her copilot’s seat to help Scott with their descent.
⇷⛒⇸
“Hey, kid, is Y/N here?” Logan asked the child in front of him. He found himself on the precipice of a new life it seems, but more literally on the precipice of the lounge area in Xavier's Mansion. He was exhausted after an abrupt and confusing flight from his little slice of Alberta to New York. His head was spinning from all of the information about Mutant Brotherhoods and Striker that was just laid upon him. And now the remembrance of the girl caught in the rain who had once told him she lived at this very school.
“Ms. Y/N? Yeah she lives here.” The child said nonchalantly. Each time he blinked, a new channel would appear on the almost theatre sized TV. “She sometimes teaches my kinetics training.”
Logan let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Relief washed over him that he would have at least one familiar face here.
“Where can I find her?” He asked the boy who still hadn’t taken his gaze away from the television. He briefly paused on the Disney channel before continuing his search.
“Why would I know? I’ve been watching TV all morning.” The kid huffed as if it was the most obvious fact in the world. Logan grumbled and sauntered out of the room and back into the many mahogany halls of the massive building.
As he neared the large eastern courtyard, he caught a glimpse of just the woman he was looking for. Through the immaculately planted dormant shrubs he observed you standing next to an ornate fountain chatting with a girl who looked to be around middle school age. He felt that same energizing hum in his chest as he did a few months ago when he took in your appearance. The way you smiled so sweetly at the student, the way your hair was gently pulled from your face by the brisk winter wind, in how your legs bobbed back and forth in place as they fended off the early afternoon chill. He waited for you to finish your conversation with the child before he made his presence known.
“Y/N?” He called tentatively as he eased his way between the garden boughs. You looked up towards the direction of your summon. When you saw who it was, your eyes sparkled with excitement.
“Logan!” You chirped and jogged over to him. “How was the flight?”
“You knew I was coming?” He asked, surprised at the lack of surprise in your reaction.
“I did.” You answered with a guilty smile. “I’m a part of the team now too so I was there when Charles made the call to find you.”
Logan’s mind tried to connect the dots between the sweet yet snappy, soaked girl he met before to the cleaned up, self assured one standing before him. He pictured you using your abilities to fight opponents rather than bears and guessed you would be goddamned good at it with sparks like yours.
“I’m really glad he did…” You trailed off with the beginnings of a goofy grin. “That he found you and brought you here of course, not that you’re being targeted by the Brotherhood-”
“It’s good to see you again.” He confessed, his honeyed voice coating your rambling and effectively adding to the chilly redness of your cheeks.
“You too.” You replied softly, trying not to ogle at his casual attire of heather gray sweatshirt and joggers.
“I think you owe me, though. I gave you a free ride back then.” He declared with a smirk.
“Fine, do you need a ride to the nearest tractor supply for a new wardrobe?” You quipped back. Logan let his half smile bloom into a full crescent moon.
“Sure, if I can take you out for a drink after.” He proposed with a look that made you feel like the New England snow had suddenly melted around you and you were now in a humid jungle.
“Well, I did have another date tonight…” You began, looking up at the taller man through your lashes. If you hadn’t already been looking at him, you wouldn’t have noticed the minute clench of his jaw.
“Buuuut, I don’t think he would be able to handle being accidentally zapped as well as you would.” You continued playfully. Your suitor paled in any comparison to the old acquaintance that had just arrived at your doorstep. The amusement in your eyes was contagious, spreading to Logan’s forested green orbs and down to his boyish grin.
“I’ll take that as a yes, then.”
Firelight
You hummed in utter bliss. The warmth of the campfire kissed your bare legs as your tired eyes gazed upon the moon basked lake in front of you. You nuzzled deeper into the crook of Logan’s neck as the crickets and the treefrogs serenaded you with a private summer evening concert.
Logan’s hand lazily ran the expanse of your hip and thigh from your position curled across him in the camping chair. He was about to close his eyes in complete relaxation when a boisterous banging erupted from one of the cabins in your section of the campground. The clanging was followed by a teenage chorus of muffled curses and cackles. The two of you had volunteered to be counselors of sorts on this weeklong camping trip Charles held for his beloved students each summer. Logan groaned at the disturbance, slightly annoyed with your rowdy group of students.
“They’re just having fun. As long as no one comes out on fire or with a leg missing it's fine.” You spoke up, tone laced with amusement. “Admit you love them-and spending quality time with them out here.”
You felt Logan huff against you at your wholesome accusation.
“I love being out here in the woods, with you.”
Logan’s answer wasn’t to your satisfaction. You zapped him gently with a single crackle of your energy just beneath the rib cage. When he jolted from the surprise attack, you folded yourself to him so that you were now straddling his lap.
“Sure. Not like I saw you earlier spending an hour teaching Rogue how to fish properly after she got her line all strung up in the nearest tree. Or how you, willingly I might add, played hide and seek with the younger ones when you were supposed to be taking a break. Or when-”
You rambled off his sweet acts in adoration until he leaned up to press his lips to yours. You sunk into his embrace and sighed at the euphoric feeling.
“Alright, alright. You’ve proved your point.” He grumbled half heartedly. In the fading natural light, you could see the lazy smile that adorned his face had become dusted with your lip gloss. You returned his response with a triumphant grin as he gingerly grasped the back of your head and pulled you to him once more. His heated palms sailed over your curves like a forest fire as your kisses deepened. You let out a small moan when he discretely bucked his hips into yours.
Or, what the two of you had thought was discrete.
“Gross. I’m just trying to get to the bathroom.” Bobby complained with a grimace as he walked by the two of you towards the community restrooms. You let out a chuckle as Logan brought his fist up to Bobby’s line of vision, a single adamantium claw extending to flip the younger man off against the firelight.
#fanfiction#marvel#marvel fanfiction#marvel x reader#Marvel x Y/N#x men#x men fanfiction#Logan#logan x reader#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#wolverine#wolverine x reader#reader insert
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just about perfect - seonghwa
howdy folks, back with another fic but i’m switching it up on ya! i might start writing regularly for ateez as well so y’all are cool with that right? right.
summary: this is NOT inspired by seonghwa saying he watches nevertheless. why would you even think that.
warnings: not the kind of warning u were expecting but there’s no smut (i know its based off a show abt friends with benefits so that’s why i’m warning u. do not get ur hopes up) a little cussing, a lotta me waxing poetic abt the perfect man park seonghwa. also slight tomfoolery from the teezers
word count: 10.6k
the bookstore just off campus is your current go-to study spot, mostly because the cafe inside has a drink special where you buy one coffee and get a voucher for the new bakery next door. so, let’s just say the past few days you’ve been well caffeinated and well fed. you’re on the way there now, already planning out what your treats are going to be.
today you were supposed to meet your “study group” after your last class of the day, but it looks like you’re the only one here so far. and you say “study group” loosely, the professor for your music theory elective encouraged everyone to make a study group for the upcoming final and your group of friends chose to work together. there’s been no studying going on, though.
especially not when hongjoong’s new friend seonghwa has been flirting with you literally nonstop. he’s apparently friends with everyone else in your group too. san knows him from an art class they took together last semester, meanwhile wooyoung and yeosang claim they lived on seonghwa’s floor freshman year and he always bought them booze. seonghwa denies it, only because hongjoong would slap him if he admitted to buying alcohol for underage kids.
tasteful delinquency aside, seonghwa is a fine person. you mean personality fine, not like, fine fine even though san would beg to differ. he knows you’ve developed a thing for seonghwa despite trying not to, and he’s secretly trying to get you two together.
which is why san suddenly texts you and says he can’t make it, and neither can yeosang or wooyoung. they decided to ditch studying to practice for the final in their dance class instead, so it’ll be just you, seonghwa and hongjoong. and little did you know, hongjoong was trying to do the same thing as san. so we’ll see how this goes.
-
“y/n, you can’t do that,” hongjoong warns you, referring to the scale you were trying to fill out.
“why not?” you ask, looking down at your work and wondering what’s wrong.
“because it’ll sound like shit,” seonghwa replies before sipping his coffee.
“what he said,” hongjoong agrees, grabbing your paper and erasing some of the notes you had scribbled out. “it should look more like this.”
you glance over at what he’s done on top of your old work and sigh. you took this class because you like music, and you thought learning about how it works would be interesting, but it’s hard.
“can’t you just do all my work for me?” you plead. at this rate, you don’t think you’ll be able to pass the final.
“no, i don’t want you dragging me down in this class,” hongjoong replies. “my grades are great.”
“i hate you.”
“what are you struggling with, y/n?” seonghwa asks as he finally looks up from his laptop. he had been working on an assignment for another class this whole time because he, like hongjoong, is great with music theory. so maybe this study group was a good thing.
“here, you can switch seats with me,” hongjoong says as he clears the spot next to you on the weathered loveseat. “i’m going to look for a book i should’ve started reading two weeks ago.”
before you can protest, seonghwa is sliding his laptop across the coffeetable and slides himself into the spot next to you. when he sits you notice your thighs are touching, which is weird because there was plenty of space when hongjoong was here. you don’t know that seonghwa is doing this on purpose, that hongjoon really left so he could flirt with the cute cashier in the cafe to give you and seonghwa some alone time.
“so,” seonghwa starts once he’s settled. “what are you struggling with?”
“hmm, all of it?” you reply. your answer makes seonghwa smile, and you like the way his eyes sparkle when he does.
“then i guess we’ll be here a while.”
-
about an hour later, seonghwa has walked you through all the major and minor scales you need to know for the test and you’re starting to understand a little more. you’re still having problems with the back of the study guide where you have to come up with note combinations that can apply to those scales, but you have time to work on that since the final is two weeks out. right now, your brain is fried and you need a break.
“do you mind if i go get a coffee?” you ask seonghwa, who was in the middle of sending you the minor scale cheat sheet he made. he looks up from his laptop and shakes his head before he speaks.
“i would only mind if i can’t come with you.”
“it’s literally right over there, why do you need to come with me?” you question.
“i think i would just miss you too much,” he pouts, and you roll your eyes. seonghwa shuts his laptop and stands up. “what if i need coffee too?”
“you already had one,” you remind him as you stand.
“yeah,” he nods. “but teaching you is exhausting, so i need another. c’mon.”
he walks ahead of you to the counter, and you’re too busy searching for your wallet to notice he took his jacket off, revealing a sneaky tattoo on the back of his neck. it isn’t until you’re behind him in line that you get a look at the hand drawn star right on the nape of his neck, and you have to refrain from reaching out to trace the lines.
“i didn’t know you had a tattoo,” you decide to say. he turns around and instinctively rubs his hand across the tattoo, smiling at you with those sparkly eyes again.
“yeah, i have a couple,” he replies. “but this one is my favorite.”
“why?”
“because my name means ‘to become a star’, so i like knowing that i have a reminder with me all the time,” he explains.
“nice. it’s really pretty.”
“thanks, so are you.”
“sir?” the barista calls, pulling seonghwa’s attention from you. he steps up to give his order as you stare at the tattoo again, noticing alongside it a couple of freckles that almost make it look like a constellation.
“y/n?” seonghwa’s voice draws you out of your thoughts and you realize he’s finished ordering. “what do you want?”
“oh, i can get it,” you begin, but he cuts you off.
“no, my treat,” he insists, and you sheepishly walk up to the counter to give your order. seonghwa makes a mental note of what you get, and he also snatches the bakery voucher from you before you can put it in your pocket. you make a confused sound and seonghwa laughs.
“why’d you do that?” you whine.
“you only get to use it if you come with me to the bakery later,” he teases. “say yes or i’m drinking your coffee and getting myself an extra cupcake.”
“fine,” you huff. “but i have an assignment due at midnight, so i can’t stay long.”
“it’s 4pm, that’s not enough time for you to finish it?” he asks while you step out of the way for the next customers.
“i haven’t started yet,” you admit.
“you like saving things until the last minute, don’t you?”
“what makes you say that?”
“well, it looks like you haven’t been studying music theory at all, and now this,” he shrugs.
“not everybody can be perfect like you, park seonghwa,” you grumble as the barista places two coffee cups on the bar. you hear seonghwa giggle shortly, and you give him a questioning look.
“so you think i’m perfect?” he smirks.
-
it’s the next day, almost midnight, and you really need spray paint.
why? well, you’re stressed because you have so much to study for your finals and you don’t know where to start. yes, seonghwa helped yesterday, but he’s not in all your other classes, so you’ve decided you need a break from tearing your hair out over the material you can’t comprehend. the best way to distract yourself from that is to finally paint that dresser you got from a garage sale a few months ago, hence the spray paint.
thankfully, san is still awake, and he has a car, so you ask him to pick you up for a quick run to the art supply store that’s surprisingly still open. a bonus of going to college in the city, you can get anything almost whenever you need it.
“thanks for coming to get me,” you tell san as you hop into his car.
“no problem,” he replies. “i was bored and hongjoong said he needed paint pens so this is a win-win situation. plus, i get to hear about your date with seonghwa yesterday.”
“it was not a date,” you groan, choosing to ignore the suggestive way san is looking at you right now.
“but you spent the whole afternoon together,” san starts. “he bought you coffee and you went to the bakery together and talked about, like, your favorite colors and stuff. sounds like a date to me.”
“how do you know all that?”
“seonghwa told hongjoong and then hongjoong told me,” he explains as he turns onto the street that’ll take you to the art store.
“well tell hongjoong that i’m still mad at him for ditching us,” you reply. “and i’m still kinda mad at you and the other two for bailing in the first place.”
“hey, if it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have had your first date with seonghwa,” san points out.
“it was not a date!” you cry. “we studied most of the time we were together, then he bought my coffee and bullied me into going to the bakery. i couldn’t stay long because i had a paper to write, so we talked about stupid shit until i had to leave.”
“it sounds like the beginning of true love to me,” san sing-songs.
“stop the car, i’ve decided to walk.”
-
when you get to the store, san separates from you quickly because he sees his friend mingi behind the counter. they’re busy talking while you search the store for the paints, and you’re so busy looking up at the aisle names that you don’t notice you’re about to run into someone.
“hey-” you start to complain, but you recognize the man you almost bumped into. “oh, seonghwa.”
“y/n,” he smiles at you. “what are you doing out so late?”
“uh, distracting myself from how small my brain is,” you explain. “what are you doing here?”
“hongjoong needed paint pens,” he says, and you’re about two seconds away from finding san and slapping him. did they really plan this too?
“why didn’t he come get them?” you ask as you remember what you’re here to find. your eyes scan the aisle behind seonghwa and you spot the paint cans at the end, but he’s in your way.
“i offered,” he says with a shrug.
“you must be a really good friend, then.”
“well you did call me perfect yesterday, so...” he trails off, smirking. you roll your eyes at him but can’t help the blush creeping up your neck. he interrupts his new favorite activity of staring deeply into your eyes (just to fluster you, of course) and he sees that you’re looking past him at the shelves of paint. “you need something down here?”
“um, yeah, the spray paint,” you reply, awkwardly trying to skirt around him to get into the aisle. he steps aside to let you through, but still follows you as you search for the color you want.
“what are you making?”
“i’m painting a scuffed up dresser i’ve had for a while, so i want something simple that’ll go with the rest of the things in my room,” you explain as you stop walking and crane your neck to scan the bottles on the top shelf. seonghwa stops behind you and places his hand on the small of your back as he reaches for a can just out of your reach.
“what about this one?” he offers, handing you a can of light blue paint. it’s really pretty, and it’ll stand out with the white furniture you already have, but you really like it.
“oh, that’s perfect!” you say as you take the can from his hands.
“there you go again,” seonghwa teases, and you shoot him a questioning look. he smiles as he responds. “calling me perfect?”
“i said the paint was perfect, weirdo,” you snap. “but thank you for finding this.”
“anytime,” he tells you. “you said your favorite color was blue right?”
“right...” you mumble, thinking back to the conversation you had at the bakery yesterday. “how’d you remember?”
“ugh, i’m hurt!” he exclaims, hand flying to his chest in mock surprise. “i can’t believe you already forgot that it’s my favorite color too.”
“hm, guess i was too distracted by how perfect you are,” you joke. seonghwa laughs at that, a sharp sound that seemed to catch him off guard. he covers his mouth to stifle the sound, but you’re close enough to the cash register now that it draws attention from san and mingi.
“find what you need?” san asks with a shit eating grin.
“hm, just about,” you say as you place the paint on the counter. “couldn’t find a hammer big enough to drop on your head, though.”
“wow, harsh,” san scoffs. “and to think i brought you here out of the goodness of my heart.”
you’re too busy half-bickering with san to notice that seonghwa has paid for your paint and the pens he promised hongjoong. he mumbles something to mingi, who then hands him a piece of paper. he scribbles his number down for you before handing you the can and his number.
“i gotta go, but i’ll see you later for study group, right?” he confirms. you’re still processing the fact that he keeps buying things for you and you can’t respond in time, so san steps in.
“yeah, y/n will be there,” san assures seonghwa. he nods and shoots you one last smile before he excuses himself and leaves. you’re stuck with san and that stupid grin again. he looks at you and then checks the paper with seonghwa’s number on it. “yep, i think you got what you needed.”
-
even though seonghwa very willingly gave you his number, you’re still afraid to text him. it’s kind of hard to believe that he’s into you the way you’re into him, so you’re fine with just seeing him for study dates. or, uh, not study dates. study gatherings. with just the two of you. because the other guys have bailed, again.
this time, though, you’re not working on music theory. you have an assignemnt due for your ethics class, and you need family and friends to read about your results from this morals test. you wanted san to do it, but he’s currently “chasing a sweet piece of ass,” whatever that means. he’s probably bothering his lab partner that he claims descended from greek gods. you would usually tease him for saying something like that, but it’s a thought you’ve had about seonghwa, so you kept your mouth shut.
anyway, you know you need someone to answer these questions for you, but you can’t bring yourself to ask seonghwa. he kept up his “perfect” demeanor again today, showing up at the bookstore before you so he could get you the coffee you like. you would ask why he keeps doing things like this for you, remembering your favorite color and your coffee order, but you’re afraid he’ll stop if you bring it up. little do you know, every time he learns something new about you, he writes it down in his notes app, keeping a running tab of the things you like.
“y/n?” you hear him ask. his voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you realize you’ve been staring at him this whole time. the smirk you’ve become so familiar with makes another appearance as he gets ready to tease you. “something on your mind?”
“no, i...no,” you stutter. “i’m just thinking.”
“about what?” he questions as he lifts his coffee cup to his lips. you watch the way he slightly pouts them before taking a sip and you have to stop yourself from staring again.
“just this ethics assignment i want to finish,” you explain. “sorry, i didn’t realize i was staring at you.”
“must be an important assignment,” he nods, leaning forward to put his cup back on the table in front of you. you get another glimpse at the star tattoo on his neck as he does. “because i was definitely staring at you too, and you didn’t even notice.”
“oh?”
“yep,” he confirms. “i was giving you my best puppy dog eyes and everything.”
“puppy dog eyes?” you ask, unsure of what’s coming. “do you need something?”
“eh, not really,” he shrugs. “i’m just worried.”
“why?”
“you never texted me the other night.”
“after the art store?” you ask incredulously.
“isn’t that when i gave you my number?” he smirks.
“i didn’t think you wanted me to text you immediately...”
“well, it’s been three days and i still don’t have your number,” he pouts.
“hold on a second,” you mumble, reaching for your bag. you fumble around in there, searching for the piece of paper with seonghwa’s number on it as he watches you fondly.
“what are you doing?”
“looking for your number,” you reply like it’s obvious. seonghwa laughs a little and places his hand on your arm to stop you.
“you do know i’m right next to you, and i could just put my number in myself?” he asks, eyes sparkling as he half-smiles at you. you blush, because no, you weren’t thinking about that. you sheepishly hand him your phone and watch as he adds his number and then texts himself. he gives your phone back and replaces it with his own before asking, “what’s your favorite emoji?”
“um, the smiling cowboy?” you offer, not sure why he’s asking. he laughs again, like he did in the art store, but this time it’s harder for him to quiet the breathy giggles coming from his chest.
“why that one?” he asks, typing something quickly.
“it’s funny,” you shrug. “why?”
“needed something cute to put next to your name, but you’re a weirdo, so it’s not as cute as i was imagining,” he explains, showing you the contact card in his phone. your number is saved as “y/n 🥰🤠” and you can’t help but laugh. you look up at seonghwa, warmth in your eyes, and he starts laughing too.
“see?” you giggle. “it is funny.”
“whatever, at least now i have your number.”
-
after exchanging numbers with seonghwa, you’re starting to let yourself believe little by little that he might feel the same way you do. it’s not anything serious, but there’s definitely something there. the texts he sends are always flirtatious, and it has your heart beating faster every time you get a notification, hoping that it’s him. you’re in the middle of studying for your spanish final when you feel your phone vibrate on the bed next to you, and you smile when you see who it’s from.
seonghwa 🥺💫, 6:28pm: are you busy rn?
you, 6:28pm: not really, just studying
seonghwa 🥺💫: can’t be studying too much if you replied that quickly 🥸
you: what do u want
seonghwa 🥺💫: be nice :-(
you: sorry
you: hi seonghwa, how are you? what do you want.
seonghwa 🥺💫: come get dinner with me?
you: right now?
seonghwa 🥺💫: no, in 30 years. yes right now
you: but i’m studying ://
seonghwa 🥺💫: liar!
you: fine, when and where?
seonghwa 🥺💫: i’ll pick you up in ten 🤠
-
“you sure like staying close to campus, huh?” you ask seonghwa as he walks you about a block from your usual hangout and to a little hole in the wall restaurant that looks like it could seat maybe 20 people, uncomfortably.
“i know what i like,” he responds with a shrug. “speaking of things i like, you look nice.”
“oh, thank you,” you semi-laugh. you’d been close to panic trying to figure out what to wear (because you’re not sure if this is a date) so you went with something simple, but you’re glad seonghwa likes it. not that you wanted to impress him. but you did, a little. anyway, he looks...well, perfect, wearing black ripped jeans and a velvet-y navy shirt. you continually have to stop yourself from reaching out and stroking his arm just to feel the soft fabric (and maybe his muscles).
“so i take it you’ve never been here before?” he asks as he hands you a menu. you shake your head no in response. you can’t tell if he’s doing it intentionally, but seonghwa leans closer into your side as he explains. “you pick a main entree, but each dish comes with these sides. they say no substitutes, but i know the guy behind the counter so you can ask for more of something else if you don’t like one of them.”
“i might do that,” you say. “i don’t really want dumplings, so could i get extra sweet potatoes?”
“of course,” he nods, noting the way you smile slightly. it makes your eyes light up, and his heart does a little backflip knowing that he’s the reason for it. well, the sweet potatoes probably are, but he’s the one getting the sweet potatoes, so he’s taking that win for himself. once you both confirm what you want, he places his hand on your back and guides you to the counter.
“hey seonghwa!” the tall guy with a lopsided smile behind the register greets. “long time no see. who’s your friend?”
“hey yunho,” seonghwa smiles back. “this is y/n, a vip, so make sure you give us the good stuff.”
“extra sweet potatoes?” yunho laughs. you and seonghwa both nod as yunho continues taking your order, and you find yourself comfortably leaning into seonghwa as you wait for yunho to calculate the price. before seonghwa can even think about taking his wallet out, you’re handing yunho cash for the food, which makes seonghwa sputter.
“what? y/n, i was going to pay,” he whines, and you simply shake your head.
“nope, my turn,” you tell him. “you’ve bought me coffee too many times.”
“but i asked you out! i don’t want you to pay on our first date if i’m the one who brought you here,” he continues to complain.
“so this is a date?” you confirm, right as yunho asks suggestively “oh, this is a date?”
“yunho, give y/n’s money back,” seonghwa says, ignoring the two of you. “i’m paying.”
“yunho, if you give me that money i’ll be forced to leave and stand seonghwa up for our date,” you say, emphasizing the last word. now you’re glad you wore clean pants.
“seonghwa, why don’t you let y/n pay for this, and then you can get the next one?” yunho suggests, sending you a wink before he turns to the kitchen to share your order with the chef. you’re left with a flustered seonghwa, which is a sight you’re not used to, and it makes you laugh.
“c’mon,” you say as you pull on his arm. “let’s go find a table.”
you’re the only ones in the restaurant, so the food comes out pretty quick, and you have to stifle a laugh when you see that someone has arranged the sweet potatoes on a separate plate in the shape of a heart. seonghwa blushes at this, and you’re taken aback by how shy he’s suddenly become.
for some reason, seonghwa showing signs of nervousness puts you at ease, and you lead the conversation to something stupid san told you about the boys and their shenanigans at their dorm. the story has seonghwa laughing, and he confirms that yes, yeosang does have a sword by the tv, and yes, hongjoong did threaten to use it on him after he lost an intense match of fifa.
“in hongjoong’s defense,” seonghwa begins, “i do think yeosang cheated. wooyoung was definitely helping him.”
“it still sounds ridiculous,” you tell him. “why does anybody need a sword?”
“yeosang is just...yeosang,” seonghwa replies. “he’s weird but he won’t admit that to anyone.”
“i’m just saying, if i went to someone’s house and there was a katana by the tv, i’d haul my ass outta there.” seonghwa giggles at how serious you look, but this conversation reminds him...
“you never showed me your room,” he says bluntly. you pause for a moment, spoon halfway to your mouth, and seonghwa realizes how that must sound. “i mean, the paint, your dresser. you never showed me a picture once you fixed it up.”
“oh,” you breathe out. “let me grab my phone, i can show you.”
“show him what?” a familiar voice suddenly asks from the seat next to you. when you notice that san, and some of your other friends, have snuck their way into the restaurant, you have to keep yourself from groaning.
“why are you here.”
“i’m hungry,” san replies, then turns to seonghwa. “you didn’t tell us you were getting dinner.”
“i didn’t want to,” seonghwa deadpans. “ i wanted it to be just me and y/n.”
“too late for that, pal,” honjoong says as he slides into the seat across from you. “hi y/n.”
“hey hongjoong,” you grumble. “please tell me you’re getting your food to go.”
“we were, but then we saw our good friends eating all by themselves and thought we should join them,” hongjoong teases. by now, the rest of the boys have sat down around you, some at other tables, and one of them you don’t recognize. that must be jongho, their younger “roommate” who technically lives in first year housing but doesn’t get along with the other guy in his room. you’ve heard seonghwa complain that jongho eats all of his snacks.
“well, i hope you enjoy your food, but seonghwa and i were just about to leave,” you lie, looking at seonghwa with a stare that pleads ‘please go along with this.’
“where are you going?” wooyoung asks, one table over.
“my apartment,” you respond quickly, standing up as seonghwa follows your cue with a stupidly adorable look on his face.
“oh, perfect!” san chirps. “we’ll come with you!”
-
so much for your date with seonghwa. it was hard to stop the boys from insisting they all join you at your apartment, especially after yunho said his shift was over and he could really use some destressing. and by destressing he meant booze, so you currently have 8 tipsy boys scattered across your living room. if you thought they were loud before...it’s amazing that your neighbors haven’t complained yet.
it started off innocent enough, you were just playing card games at first and the loser of each round had to drink. then it turned into never have i ever, and each time you put a finger down you had to drink. then yeosang suggested shots, and it really went downhill from there. san tried convincing everyone to play a round of spin the bottle just for the chance of making you and seonghwa kiss, but mingi and wooyoung were the only ones down, so majority ruled there.
“san, stop pouting,” you laugh, noticing that he’s upset over his evil plan not working out.
“it’s fine,” he lies, duck lips on full display.
“spin the bottle is such a tween-y game too,” jongho pipes in. “and we’re adults, so it would be kinda stupid to play it anyway.”
“says the baby of the group,” yeosang scoffs.
“what about truth or dare?” hongjoong suggests. “still immature, but we can make it fun.”
“yes!” san shouts, suddenly back in a positive mood.
“i’ll start,” mingi volunteers. he takes a deep breath as he looks around the room, eyes narrowing when he looks at you and seonghwa. you’re currently smushed into your armchair together, not really by choice, because the couch is completely full and neither of you wanted to sit on the floor (you know how dirty it is, and seonghwa has a bad hip). thankfully, mingi has mercy on you and directs his gaze to his best friend. “yunho, truth or dare?”
“truth,” yunho slurs out. you’d say he’s the opposite of stressed by now.
“did you sleep with that girl you met at the party last week?”
“no,” yunho replies quickly, cheeks turning a knowing shade of red. “i just walked her home.”
“and went missing until the next morning?” yeosang asks. he gets a few snickers, and you laugh a little too because you remember san and wooyoung talking about their friend who disappeared for a few hours last weekend.
“whatever,” yunho groans. “yeosang. truth or dare.”
“dare,” yeosang chooses confidently.
“kiss wooyoung on the cheek.”
“no,” he replies, just as confidently.
“then take another shot,” yunho concedes, waving his hand at the stubborn boy. wooyoung mumbles something about how kissable he is as yeosang downs what looks like more than just a regular shot.
“this is boring,” jongho whines, which makes him the next target. he chooses dare, and you have to detach yourself from seonghwa so you can go into your kitchen and find the lemon juice in your fridge so jongho can chug what’s left. he’s sputtering after a few sips and gives up, grumbling up to you, “ i hate you for that.”
“hey, it wasn’t my dare,” you defend yourself. “you owe me lemon juice.”
“i’ll give it to you if you choose dare,” jongho challenges. you roll your eyes and take the bait, earning a round of ooo’s from the boys around you.
“make her kiss seonghwa,” someone hisses.
“or me!” wooyoung chirps. jongho looks over at him with a death glare, and wooyoung shrugs. “i just want someone to want to kiss me.”
“i think you’re cut off,” hongjoong says as he leans across your coffee table to move the bottle away from wooyoung.
“everyone be quiet!” san shouts. “jongho has to give y/n a dare.”
“hmmm,” jongho starts, tapping his finger on his chin. “what should i do?”
“for someone who said this was boring, you’re really milking this,” seonghwa says under his breath. you’re perched on the arm of the chair, close enough to hear him, but thankfully no one else does.
“what’s that other childish game called?” jongho wonders aloud. “seven minutes in heaven? i think you should do that with seonghwa.”
“do i have to?” you pout, and your reluctance makes seonghwa stiffen. he thinks you said that because you’re uncomfortable, and not because you don’t want the boys pressing their ear up to the door while the two of you make out.
“rules are rules,” hongjoong concludes, nodding his head toward your room. “go have fun. i’ll keep the kids from bothering you.”
you look to seonghwa, who isn’t looking directly at you. you tentatively take his hand, giving it a squeeze before you stand up and lead him to your room. there are so many catcalls, whistles and cheers coming from your friends that you barely hear san say “take your time! it doesn’t have to be just seven minutes!”
once you get to your room, you let seonghwa go in first and then you lock the door behind you. he quirks an eyebrow at that, and you shrug shyly.
“don’t want one of them bursting in,” you explain. seonghwa nods, and you both fall silent. it’s not necessarily awkward, just tense. you both want to do what seven minutes in heaven is meant for, but you’re not gonna make the first move and seonghwa still isn’t sure you even want to be in this situation. so he takes this time to turn around and take your room in, pointing to your dresser.
“is this it?” he asks. you hum out a yes in response, and he runs his hand over the freshly painted wood. “it looks nice. whoever picked out the color sure knows what he’s doing.”
“eh, he’s just lucky,” you joke, and you both laugh. you move to stand next to him and place your hand on top of his. “sorry we couldn’t finish our date.”
“sorry my friends are so annoying,” seonghwa adds.
“sorry san pushed me into your lap earlier,” you continue, and seonghwa smirks.
“well, i didn’t mind that,” he says. “i wanted you to sit with me, but i didn’t want to draw attention.”
“oh,” you squeak, feeling a blush on its way to your cheeks. a heavy silence falls over you, and seonghwa is the first to break it.
“listen, if you don’t want to kiss me, that’s cool,” he begins. “i kinda got the vibe earlier that you didn’t want to do this, and that’s cool. if you don’t want to do this we’re still cool.”
“you don’t sound very cool about it,” you chuckle, and seonghwa’s face flushes. “but i was only nervous because i didn’t know if you wanted to kiss me.”
“oh i want to kiss you,” he says firmly. “have for a while.”
“why don’t you do it then?” you challenge. seonghwa takes a step closer to you, and before you know it he’s pinned you against your dresser. you balance your hands on it and the cool wood helps you ground yourself as your body heats up from having seonghwa so close.
“are you sure?” he asks, only a few inches from your face. you nod and whisper out “i’m sure” and seonghwa quickly cups your face and smothers you in a kiss. it starts off slow, and your face warms at his touch. once you relax into it you move your lips against his, nipping at his bottom lip slightly and earning a groan from the man before you. you take the chance to slip your tongue past his lips as you bring your hands up to the nape of his neck, slowly brushing through his soft hair. his hands find their way to your waist, gripping tightly but not too hard, and he leans in to get as close to you as possible. you keep kissing for a few moments, but eventually you need to breathe so you lightly tap on his neck. he pulls back, breathing heavy, and his smile shines like the most beautiful stars in the sky. “so?”
“so?” you repeat, equally out of breath.
“that was nice.”
“it was.”
“the boys are gonna know we made out.”
“of course they are,” you laugh. “your lips look swollen.”
“so do yours,” he counters.
“but wasn’t that the whole point of us coming in here?” you ask. your hands have fallen to his chest, and you finally get a chance to smooth out the soft velvet of his shirt. and you notice his chest is very, uh, firm, too.
“we didn’t have to kiss,” he says with a shrug. “we could’ve just talked.”
“about what?” you ask with a smile.
“my keen eye for interior design,” he replies. “how sexy you look in low lighting.”
“so you think i’m sexy?” you tease, and seonghwa rolls his eyes.
“i just had my tongue in your mouth, does that answer your question?”
another silence comes over you both, but this one is lighter than before. you’re subconsciously rubbing your hands over his shirt, and seonghwa brings a hand up to cover yours, stopping it right over his heart.
“we don’t have to tell them,” you offer. “i mean, they kept it a secret from us that they were trying to get us together this whole time.”
“oh no, i was fully aware of that,” seonghwa tells you, and you scoff. “do you think i really wanted to get out past midnight just to buy hongjoong some expensive markers? he never even paid me for them.”
“well now i really don’t want to tell them we kissed,” you whine. “how could everyone be in on this except me?”
“it was more fun that way,” seonghwa teases before pecking your lips. “but we can keep this between us, for now.”
“i think we should,” you say with a nod of finality. “it’s more fun that way.”
“c’mon, let’s go back out there before they send a search party.”
you return to the living room before seonghwa (so he can sneak into the bathroom and fix his hair) and you find most of the boys asleep on the floor. you sigh as your eyes meet hongjoong’s, and he shrugs.
“at least they didn’t bother you,” he says.
“can you help me find pillows and blankets for them, please?” you ask, and he nods before jumping into action. he throws one of the couch pillows down to yeosang, who takes it and hugs it to his chest. you have a couple extras in your hall closet and you pass them to yunho, who’s sitting up when you come back. he places one under mingi and another under jongho and keeps the last one for himself. san and wooyoung are on the couch, and hongjoong tells you he’s fine with the armchair. seonghwa is out of the bathroom by now, and, like the perfect man he is, he’s carrying blankets in his arms. the three of you work on getting all the boys covered before you realize that seonghwa doesn’t have a place to sleep.
“i can take another spot on the floor,” he assures you. “do you have another pillow i can use?”
“let him sleep in your room, y/n,” san mumbles from underneath wooyoung. you pause and look at seonghwa, who’s looking back at you with something you can’t read in his eyes.
“it’s not a bad idea,” hongjoong pipes in from somewhere within the blanket cocoon he made for himself. “he was just there. you can put him on the floor.”
“y/n?” seonghwa asks, pulling your attention back to him. “i don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable.”
you would try to fight it, so you could hopefully ignore taunts from the boys in the morning, but you’re suddenly really tired and you just want to lay down.
“i’m ok with it if you are,” you yawn. “take the rest of those blankets, we can use those for your bed.”
“make good choices,” honjoong mumbles as seonghwa leads you back to your room, and you hear san going “oooooo” as you close your door a second time tonight. this time you don’t lock it though, and when you turn around you see the blankets on the floor and seonghwa sprawled out on your usual side of the bed, so you tell him.
“well why don’t you come join me then?” he teases with a grin. you blush and shake your head.
“scoot over.”
he does, but only by an inch. he still looks at you with that flirty glint in his eyes, and you can only shake your head again as you crawl into the tiny space next to him. he immediately wraps an arm around your waist and gives you a tight hug, placing a kiss on your shoulder.
“thank you,” he whispers into your back.
“for what?” you reply.
“for not putting me on the floor. and for liking me.”
-
you just woke up from maybe the best night of sleep you’ve ever had. seonghwa’s arms and legs are draped over yours, so you can’t get up without waking him, but having him so close is a welcome source of warmth. your apartment is quiet, and the sun is peacefully filtering into your room through your curtain. it’s the perfect moment, with your perfect boy, until-
“i think they’re still asleep,” you hear someone whisper from the hallway.
“wooyoung, leave them alone!” another voice hisses. there’s silence for a moment, and then a smack, followed by someone jiggling the doorknob to your room. you quickly untangle yourself from seonghwa before you watch as the door cracks open a bit, revealing wooyoung in all his bed-headed glory. you close your eyes as much as you can while still peeking at who’s sneaking into your room, and you see jongho close behind him. he must’ve been the one who got smacked. or did the smacking. either way, they’re both staring at you and seonghwa in your bed, but you notice wooyoung smile and pause.
“i knew it! they definitely got together last night.”
“how do you know?” jongho asks. “maybe y/n let seonghwa sleep on the bed because of his old man hips.”
“whatever. they’re in the same bed, so that’s at least something,” wooyoung replies. “lame, but still something.”
“what did you expect?” jongho asks incredulously. “you thought we would catch them doing it?”
“i mean, not exactly, but couldn’t i get a little cuddling maybe?”
“you want me to cuddle you hyung?” jongho deadpans.
“yes, actually-”
“hey!” a third voice whisper shouts. you hear footsteps and then you see hongjoong pulling wooyoung out of your room by the neck of his shirt. “leave them alone. and you, jongho, i’m surprised you’re playing along with this.”
“well...” jongho mumbles.
“well what?” hongjoong asks, sounding like the mom-est mom to ever mom.
“they’re the only ones that know how to make breakfast.”
“both of you, out! now!” hongjoong semi-shouts, and you feel seonghwa stirring behind you. hongjoong doesn’t realize you’re both awake and closes the door as he leaves.
“what time is it?” seonghwa grumbles out, and your heart skips a beat hearing how deep his voice is when he wakes up.
“early,” you reply, turning around to be face to face with him. his arms slowly snake around you as you look up at him and share a sleepy smile. “how can you look this good when you first wake up?”
“weird, i wanted to ask you the same thing,” seonghwa replies, leaning in to kiss you but you touch your fingers to his lips and stop him, so he pouts.
“uh uh, not until i brush my teeth,” you say as you try to get up, but seonghwa’s grip on your waist keeps you down.
“please,” he pouts again, sparkly eyes on full display as he pleads with you. it takes about half a second for you to cave and kiss him quickly, catching him off guard. he shifts to pull you on top of him and deepen the kiss, but he loses his grip on you and you’re able to slip out of bed before he can stop you. a noise comes from deep in his chest that almost sounds like a growl, and you shoot him a glare.
“hey, you got your kiss,” you warn. “now i’m going to make breakfast for the gremlins. do you want to help me?”
-
after the intrusion into your bedroom, wooyoung obviously told the boys what he saw. but, like jongho said, most of them thought it was just because of seonghwa’s hips that made you share a bed with him. there wasn’t enough evidence otherwise, and none of them really expected either of you to make a move despite their efforts. but they’re starting to get suspicious.
little do they know, after the set up fell into place, seonghwa wanted to take you on a real date. the only way to do that without your friends knowing was to sneak around without them, which was kind of fun. it was nice having this bubble with seonghwa, just the two of you, but it was getting harder to avoid your friends. seonghwa lived with them after all, so they pestered him about how often he was out and who he might be out with.
“san keeps asking if you’re a good kisser. i told him i didn’t know, and then he asked if he could find out for me. should i be concerned about that?”
“we need to be more careful, yeosang said he saw us at the taco place yesterday, and he said we hold hands weird.”
“hongjoong has been saving seats for us at the bookstore, and each time we don’t show up i think he steals something from me.”
you have been ditching study group lately, but that’s more because you need to do some deep studying for your other finals and your friends are too much of a distraction. seonghwa can be distracting too, but at least he can take a hint and back down when you really need to focus. it’s been nice actually, just spending time in his presence. you were so nervous around him just a few weeks ago, and now you feel like you could trust him with just about anything.
today, you don’t get any personal study time, though. your music theory final is coming up and seonghwa wants you to get all the terms memorized before the review session in class tomorrow. he’s motivating you with a kiss for each right answer and the promise of him making dinner once you’re done. you’re currently cruising on five wrong in a row, and you’re getting frustrated.
“c’mon y/n, you know this,” seonghwa encourages you, but you just whine in response. “we did this like four minutes ago, and i told you the answer so you could remember it.”
“yeah, well i obviously didn’t,” you snap, and seonghwa fakes being hurt. “sorry. can we skip this and come back to it?”
“sure,” he agrees quickly. “but first you need to write down the circle of fifths for me.”
“i hate you.”
“hm, wrong answer,” he hums. “but kiss anyway. maybe that’ll keep you from getting so grumpy.”
“i am not grumpy,” you defend after kissing him gently. “i’m stressed.”
“you know what you need?”
“hm?”
“you need to go on another date,” he begins. “with me, obviously.”
“damn, i wanted to know if yunho was free,” you tease, and seonghwa doesn’t think it’s funny. “now who’s grumpy?”
“ignoring that,” he scoffs, but you can tell he’s trying not to smile.
“when would we go? i’m really busy the next few days.”
“what about after class? we could both clean up and do something nice before we get some dinner?” seonghwa suggests. “why don’t we go to that art exhibit you told me about?”
“ugh,” you groan as you learn your head on his shoulder. “that sounds amazing, but we both said we’d be at study group tomorrow, remember? hongjoong practically begged me to be there, and i said i would ask you to come.”
“what about not letting them know we’re a thing?” he pouts. you don’t tell him about the youngest two that saw you all cuddled up, but instead you assure him that you inviting him to study group wouldn’t look unusual to the boys.
“plus, if we both cancel last minute, they’d know for sure we were up to something together,” you continue. “so yes, we need to go on another date, but just not tomorrow.”
“fine,” he mumbles. “now i am grumpy.”
“would something from the cafe make it better, my little boba ball?” you ask in a baby voice.
“ooh, actually, boba sounds good,” seonghwa smiles. “let’s go.”
-
the next day you get to the bookstore late because your professor gave a pop quiz at the end of class and you’ve been so busy studying music theory you forgot to study for anything else, so you needed all the time you could get. when you finally arrive, all of the boys are there, surprisingly. since you’ve never seen yunho, mingi and jongho here before you’re a little confused, but happy to see them nonetheless.
as you walk up to the usual spot, you notice a coffee cup sitting in front of an empty chair, and you point to it as the boys greet you.
“is this for me?” you ask, placing your bag on the ground before grabbing the warm mug. “thank you, coffee angel.”
“you’re welcome, actual angel,” seonghwa replies, and you almost choke on your first sip. what is he doing?? you’re supposed to be sneaky sneaks and keep your relationship quiet, but here he is flirting with you in front of everyone!
except, that’s what he did before you started dating too, so it’s not out of the ordinary. in fact, no one pays any mind to it, so you’re left with a burnt tongue and blushy cheeks while seonghwa looks at you with a stare that only you would understand. you quickly shoot him a wink before you put your mug down and reach for your notes.
“um, hello? what are you guys doing?” you ask yeosang next to you, who’s rabidly tapping at his phone, just like everyone else. if they weren’t distracted they might have picked up on the vibes between you and seonghwa, but thankfully they’re the oblivious ones now.
“playing a game,” half of them respond, just as hongjoong says “writing lyrics” and jongho mumbles “texting my mom.”
“aren’t we supposed to study?” you ask. “or did you already learn everything in the world while i was gone?”
“well you’ve missed a lot of study sessions, y/n,” san begins. “so yes, we have learned everything. now we just come here to hang out.”
“so then why did you insist on me being here, joong?” you ask newly orange-haired hongjoong. it’s been a while since you’ve seen him, he must’ve dyed it recently.
“we missed hanging out with you,” he says simply, eyes peeking up from his phone. your heart constricts at this, and you catch seonghwa’s eyes again. you might have to rethink the whole sneaking around thing if they really do miss you.
“yeah, we missed you AND we had to make sure you and seonghwa are still spending time together,” wooyoung adds, wiggling his eyebrows.
“where have you been anyway?” yeosang asks. “you don’t have other friends.”
“yes i do,” you scoff.”
“give me names and numbers.”
“ignore him,” yunho tells you, and you nod.
“i always do. but i’ve been really stressed about finals, so i had to do some soul searching on my own to decide if i need to graduate or not.”
“seems fair,” mingi agrees. “i almost had to drop a class.”
“because he forgot he was even enrolled in it,” jongho clarifies, and you laugh.
“but seonghwa has been missing a lot lately too,” san starts. “i wonder what he’s been doing.”
“or who,” wooyoung snickers, and hongjoong reaches over mingi to slap him.
“i haven’t been feeling well,” seonghwa says with a shrug. “i’ve mostly been in my room, or at the pharmacy to get medicine.”
“oh, so you could’ve bought new paper towels for the dorm then, huh?” hongjoong asks, and as the two of them start to bicker, yeosang nudges your arm.
“i saw you two,” he says quietly. “at the mexican restaurant.”
“i know,” you whisper back.
“so i know you’re dating.”
“are you gonna say anything?”
“hmmm, no,” he thinks. “but you have to buy my silence.”
“with coffee?” you offer, and yeosang smiles. he stands up and puts his phone away before speaking, looking directly at seonghwa.
“my best friend y/n is gonna buy me coffee, we’ll be back,” he says as he loops his arm around your shoulders. seonghwa watches as you walk away (and stares at your ass) but he’s mostly thinking about how he’s a little jealous right now. like, he knows you wouldn’t do anything, he trusts you, but he doesn’t want his friends thinking you have a thing for anyone but him. so while you’re gone, he talks.
“i haven’t been sick,” he admits. “i’ve been seeing y/n.”
“we all knew, dude,” hongjoong says casually, and everyone agrees.
“then why didn’t you say anything?!”
“because YOU weren’t saying anything,” jongho replies.
“yeah, we figured that we did enough trying to get the two of you together, so if you didn’t end up dating then that was your fault. we were just waiting on you to make a move,” san explains.
“then why did you let us lie to you like that?”
“it was fun,” wooyoung shrugs. “by the way, did y/n let you sleep in the bed because of your hips, or because you wanted to cuddle?”
the red tint on seonghwa’s cheeks gives him away, and the boys start laughing and ooo’ing so loud he’s afraid you’ll hear it over by the coffee counter.
“ok, ok, just. keep this quiet for now,” he says. “y/n may still want this to be private.”
“but you just told us about it,” yunho says. “why would you do that if you knew y/n wouldn’t want you to?”
“well,” seonghwa begins. “i need your help with a date.”
-
seemingly by an act of god, you have time this weekend to go on a date with seonghwa. little did you know, he’s the reason your plans suddenly freed up. san said you could critique him and wooyoung for their dance final another day, hongjoong said he would send you his music theory notes from the review and save you hours of studying and then yeosang found the exact spanish book you needed to finish your performance final ahead of time. it was the perfect circumstances, orchestrated by your perfect boy and his perfect-adjacent friends, who all agreed to help him with this (hopefully) perfect date.
it starts with seonghwa picking you up from your apartment, coffee in hand.
“you’re the man of my dreams, you know that?” you say in passing as you grab the warm to-go cup. even if you were only saying it lightly, it made seonghwa’s heart soar. you notice he hasn’t said anything to you, so you meet his eyes to find them full of stars like always, but this time there’s something scheme-y in there. he’s up to something.
“are you ready for the best date of your life?” he asks with a smile that puts the stars in his eyes to shame.
“yes, i think,” you respond, grabbing your keys and locking your door. “but i don’t know what we’re doing.”
“and it will stay that way until we get there,” seonghwa says firmly as he laces his hand into yours. you squeeze his hand and sigh.
“i guess i just have to trust you then.”
“but that won’t be hard right?”
“wait, didn’t you say something earlier about going to that art exhibit? is that it?” you question, even though you know he won’t budge. seonghwa just shakes his head no and punches the button for the elevator. a moment of silence passes before you guess again. “a movie? you rented out a movie theater, like you said you wanted to?”
“i tried, but it was expensive,” he admits and you have to laugh. “funds are tight right now.”
“i watched you buy a couple hundred dollars worth of legos the other day babe. maybe that’s why the date fund is lacking.”
“you’re not coming between me and my collectables, y/n,” seonghwa scolds. the elevator pings to open to the parking garage under your building, and you’re confused for a moment before he explains. “i want this to be a nice date, so yunho let me borrow his car. it would be no fun if we show up all sweaty because we were walking.”
yunho’s car, which is actually pretty nice thanks to all the tips he gets from flirting with clientele, is parked by the elevator. seonghwa leads you to your door and opens it for you, revealing a basket of flowers and candies in the seat. you coo as you pick it up, and seonghwa looks on proudly. you lean over to give him a kiss, and you whisper your thanks as you pull away.
“that was mingi’s idea,” seonghwa tells you, smiling brightly “i got all your favorites.”
“i see that.”
“but look around the flowers,” he guides you. “there’s something else.”
you hold the basket up to eye level, noticing the silver sparkle around the stems of the flowers. is it glitter? you tug at a flower and realize it’s a chain, and attached is a hand drawn star charm to match the tattoo on the back of seonghwa’s neck.
“seonghwa, this is beautiful,” you say breathlessly. “we’re gonna match! that’s so cute. who’s idea was this?”
“would you believe me if i said it was mine?”
“no.”
“that’s what jongho said too,” seonghwa laughs. “it was his idea.”
“tell him thank you,” you say as you play with the charm. “mingi and yunho too. it’s a good date so far.”
“oh baby, it hasn’t officially started yet.”
-
in the car, seonghwa plays a mix of songs that he really likes, and he’s mixed in some of your favorites too. he has to keep convincing you that the songs aren’t clues, because you ask every time a new song plays.
“so are the songs just distractions?” you ask, finally giving up on getting any information out of him.
“why do you ask that?” he smirks as he turns down a familiar road.
“because i can tell you just took the long way to the record store,” you explain. “are you stalling?”
“me, what? why?” his response does nothing to manage your suspicions, and suddenly you remember how your friends have helped with the date so far. are they all in on this? you need answers.
“seonghwa, i swear to god, if san or wooyoung jumps out to surprise me wherever we’re going-”
“that won’t happen,” seonghwa laughs while he parks the car. “we’re here anyway, and i promise this is the last surprise of the night.”
“the record store?” you question, looking up at the shop you’ve been to countless times to shop and to bother hongjoong while he works.
“yeah, you said there was a new album out you wanted to get, right?”
“yeah,” you blush. “but i just said that in passing, i didn’t expect you to remember.”
“y/n, i want to know everything about you,” seonghwa says seriously. “so of course i remembered. wait, don’t get out yet. i’ll open the door for you.”
as seonghwa helps you out of the car, you quiz him on the other things you’ve said around him that you didn’t think he remembered. sadly, he does remember you saying your favorite disney movie is ratatouille and you’ve always wanted to try the mushroom/cheese concoction remy makes in the first scene.
“that’s a little embarrassing,” you sigh as you reach for the door. you’re going to complain some more about how seonghwa doesn’t need to remember everything about you, but the sight in front of you makes you stop mid-breath.
the record store has been decorated from floor to ceiling in fairy lights, and there’s more flowers all over the place. as you look around, you notice the flowers are tucked in the shelves next to your favorite artists. next to the door is the album you were talking about, and a little further down you see your favorite album of all time with a few extra flowers next to it. you’re still taking everything in when you notice hongjoong behind the counter.
“did you help him with this?” you ask breathlessly, and hongjoong nods.
“yeah, but the flowers next to the albums was my idea,” hongjoong explains. “we’re running a new special called “y’n’s favorites” so everything that’s marked with a flower is yours, if you want it. everything is on the house.”
“i...i don’t know what to say,” you start. you turn to seonghwa and there are those starry eyes that you love to see. you reach out to cup his face and smile. “thank you. this is...perfect.”
“it’s even more perfect now that i’m here!” wooyoung shouts from the front door of the shop, followed by san and yeosang. you look at seonghwa and all he does is laugh.
“what? at least he didn’t jump out and scare you,” seonghwa teases.
“oh, i would never,” wooyoung nods with a half-serious look on his face. “but i definitely wouldn’t do that when i have your dinner in my hands, i can’t let all this hard work spill.”
“especially not on my clean floor,” hongjoong warns.
“you made dinner for us?” you ask wooyoung, but you’re looking at seonghwa, who simply shrugs.
“yep, i made one of your favorites and then threw in a couple recipes i thought you’d both like,” wooyoung says as he and the two other boys place food down on the counter by the register.
“and what did you two help with?” you ask san and yeosang.
“who do you think made this place so beautiful?” yeosang asks incredulously.
“yeosang did the lights and i bought all the flowers,” san explains with a smile that makes his eyes turn into happy half moons. “you’d be surprised how many places i had to go to get all your favorites.”
“i really don’t know what to say,” you whisper in disbelief. “i can’t believe you all did this for me.”
“it was all seonghwa’s idea,” san tells you. “we did it for both of you.”
“yeah, we’re just his little minions,” yeosang jokes, and wooyoung giggles.
“you tell me how that food tastes, got it?” he asks as he backs out of the store. “don’t say anything mean though. i only accept compliments.”
“wooyoung,” seonghwa smiles tightly. “please leave.”
wooyoung holds the door open for san and yeosang as he gives seonghwa a thumbs up. san waves goodbye sweetly and yeosang gives you a knowing smile before the door closes behind them.
“well, i think that’s my cue to go,” hongjoong says, handing the keys to seonghwa. “don’t make a mess. if i get fired, i’m selling all the stuff i stole from you when you were sneaking around with y/n and not telling us about it.”
“i’ll keep him under control,” you assure hongjoong, who nods as heads to the door. you don’t see him leave because seonghwa has stepped in front of you, and he places his hands on your waist to pull you closer.
“so,” he begins.
“so.”
“what do you want to listen to while we eat?” he asks, pulling you by the waist over to a row of records. you stand there quietly, looking over the albums hongjoong pulled to the front for you, and you just can’t believe how much work went into this date. you can’t believe how sweet it is that each of your friends helped, and you put your hand on seonghwa’s and give it a squeeze.
“hwa,” you whisper. he hums in response, but you place your hand on his cheek and guide his gaze to yours.
“thank you,” you tell him. “thank you for this.”
he smiles at you with a look in his eyes that can’t be anything else but love, and you smile back with that much love, if not more, in your own face. you use the hand on seonghwa’s chin to guide his lips to yours, and you lose yourself in the kiss, in seonghwa, for who knows how long.
“mm, y/n,” he mumbles against your lips before detaching. “the food will get cold.”
“you’re right,” you sigh. “but we didn’t pick any music.”
“how about this?” he asks, pulling an album out from the top shelf. you smile at the cover, knowing exactly what song seonghwa wants you to hear.
“perfect,” you agree. “i’ll put it on while you get the food?”
and that’s how you end up eating the perfect meal, on your perfect date, with all of your favorite things around you, sitting right next to your perfect boy.
#seonghwa#seonghwa fluff#seonghwa imagine#seonghwa one shot#ateez one shot#ateez imagine#ateez imagines#seonghwa imagines#ateez fluff#park seonghwa#park seonghwa fluff#park seonghwa imagine#park seonghwa imagines#park seonghwa one shot
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bitterness in goodbye | jjk
this is part of my troubled outsiders series. sadly, you can't read this as a stand alone (meaning: feel free to check the previous parts ♡)
| summary | - You can’t help but feel a little sad when Jungkook doesn’t refrain from cuddling your arm after pleading to forgive him. You wish you could cuddle him instead, that he would lay his head on your chest as you play with his soft hair, but you recognize there are some things you just can’t have.
warnings: none (?) i mean chaeryeong insults jungkook which is an atrocity in itself but-
contents: we diving into the angst my friends. jungkook is an innocent, kind hearted soul, i promise. oc's got the feels (out oct. 1) for jk. idol!jungkook × student!reader.
author's note: I EDITTED THIS FROM MY PHONE DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW FUCKING ANNOYING THAT IS? also, thank u for the amount of support i've been receiving lately, i appreciate everyone lots. feel free to ask away or suggest anything btw, i would love to write for any prompts you guys come up with. 💞💗💖💘💓💕
words: 1.57k
playlist: honey by halsey
Four weeks later, the receptionist of your apartment complex hands you over a cardboard box with the hoodie Jungkook and you had talked about that day on the Han River. Jungkook kept pestering you to please please please send him your address for confidential purposes, which you knew had to do with his determination to literally provide anything that catches your eye right away. You assumed it was a sensitive topic for the boy whether people had purposefully taken advantage of his money before, so you didn’t dare to say anything when the man asked you for your size literally two hours after he dropped you off, scared to either reject his solidare intentions or piss him off for bringing unwanted memories back. In your defense, your personality type keeps oscillating between INFP and INFJ so it’s only natural that you take extra care to make sure those around you have as much peace of mind as possible in your presence.
As pretty and comfortable the piece of soft clothing is, an important factor is missing, something that you can’t recreate buying two of the same size and color, and that is Jungkook's escence and how good it looks on him in comparison to anyone else in the world. Meaning, you didn’t like it as much as you thought initially would. And it absolutely did not have to do with the fact that your short stature made you look like a toddler who stole their dad’s jacket.
Still, in order to show Jungkook how much you appreciate his gift, you bring it to work the next day, and the rest of the days after that, with the excuse that with winter rolling around you needed something to keep you warm in the office. Jungkook doesn’t miss the opportunity to confirm your assumptions regarding your appearance whenever he barges into your office randomly throughout the week, arguing that ”you look so adorable” and doesn’t stop for two weeks more, until he gets used to seeing you wearing something you shared with him. Which doesn’t help ease your growing romantic feelings for him whatsoever.
Because yeah, you liked Jeon Jungkook, just like every human being with eyes and sexual desires, except, you didn’t just like him in a superficial way, and that’s where the problem with him resides. Though you are sure everyone has fallen in love with the endearing boy at some point - especially the excluded and invalidated women of society - you can’t help but place some blame on you for allowing yourself to be swooned so goddamn easily. Your mom had said to you at some point to be wary of the way some men would talk to you when you grew up, their intention usually being getting inside your pants, which has happened to you more times than you'd like to admit. And with the argument that she knew you better than anyone, she claimed you would comply right the second someone talked sweet to you; you despised the fact that was the case with Jungkook (and Jungkook only), although he had never shown any sexual innuendos. What your feelings could do to your relationship with Jungkook and your rather chill lifestyle scared you to death, shiver me timbers and all that shit, having romantic feelings for someone else is embarrassing, especially when your chance with them has been scratched out the second you laid eyes on them.
Jungkook sits on your couch, legs spread on your thighs as you two pretend to watch some series on netflix. “I don’t buy for a second the act you’re putting on right now.” he speaks randomly after staring at your deep-in-thought state for a few minutes and laughs when you snap at him for not letting you overthink in peace. “What’s going on?”
Truth is, you don’t fucking know. A few hours before he arrived at your place (you had to pick him up at the dorm and sneak the both of you through the subterranean parking lot, because god forbid someone saw Jungkook arriving at some chick’s dorm on a saturday afternoon) you swore you would be able to conceal whatever emotional turmoil you had going inside of you without compromising your regular behaviour around the man, but when push comes to shove, it’s impossible to keep yourself from wondering how far you could go before that special someone found out what was going on inside of your head.
Jungkook’s phone rings in his pocket with some annoying tone he had downloaded illegally from youtube the same day the company had handed over the device as a gift for him (you still were a little bitter over how they neglected the rest of the staff but you also knew it was kind of impossible for the human kind to just gift a-thousand-dollar-phones to almost five hundred people out of solidarity). “Hyung?” he picks up, still wary of your unusual behaviour, concerned eyes looking at you. “No, uh- i’m with Yugyeom right now.” and your heart shatters into a million pieces.
You have been suspecting for a while that Jungkook is being hesitant to introduce you to his social circle. Although, you’ve tried your best not to take it personal, it is getting harder to resist the urge to ask him what the fuck is up with that. The fact that Jungkook had to lie about the person he was hanging out with broke your ego; he could’ve just said he was with a friend, right? You suddenly feel like you’re fifteen again, when the guy you liked would love you in the dark but pretend he didn’t know you in the light.
Holding your tears back, you gently push him off and make your way towards the bathroom in the most nonchalant way you could. This is your fault for falling for the nice popular guy in the first place, you remind the reflection staring back at you. Still, as bad as it hurt, there was no way you were going to cry over a stupid boy, let alone when he was literally sat on the next room. He can go fuck himself if he thinks he can just toss this behind as if nothing ever happened.
You text Chaeryeong instead.
“chaery bom bom: i swear to god i gonna throw hands the next time i see the bitch.
chaery bom bom: like who the hell does he think he is? fucking squidward looking asshole.
chaery bom bom: he ain’t even that cute bub, you’ll get over him. i know jinyoung wouldn’t treat you like this”
You sigh. Chaeryeong has been enamored with the idea of you and his former company colleague from GOT7 since the day she met the guy (which was somewhere around ten years ago), and although he was all that, you didn’t like his quiet and cold aura, it intimidated the fuck out of you (Jungkook was the entire opposite of that).
You spray on some perfume just to have an excuse as to why you randomly ran to the bathroom when Jungkook’s inquiring eyes stare as you sit back on the couch, which is exactly what he does. “You done with your call?” you ask, bitter.
Jungkook frowns, a bit taken aback by the sudden question but still unaware of the way his words had made you feel, not even sensing the hostile change in your mood. “Yes, it was one of our managers. He was wondering if I could come back to reshoot some...-thing.”
Okay, now you kind of understand as to why he lied in the first place and to say you feel guilty is an understatement. “I supposed he backed down once you mentioned you were hanging out with Yugyeom.” playfulness makes its appearance on your tone and Jungkook rolls his eyes at you, tongue poking on the inside of his slightly red cheeks.
“Sorry for that” he moves closer and cuddles your arm, like a sad guilty puppy. “It’s just- I don’t want them asking questions''.
You understand. He is a very reserved and private person after all. It took you a bit to crack him open yourself. Plus, you kind of share that trait with him, you’d hate it too if people were constantly on your nerves for the people you decide to hang out with.
And that’s all it takes to forgive him. Not very cash money of you.
“You better not pull that shit again, though” you shift in his hold and he looks up at you. One look into your eyes and he knows what you mean. “I’ll kick you out.”
After nodding, Jungkook resumes his concentration on the series you picked out for him. Due to your short attention span, you are very picky about what you invest your time in, especifically with audiovisual pieces of media, so Jungkook trusts you whenever you recommend something on very rare occasions. As a matter of fact, Jungkook was busy attacking your kitchen counters for snacks (which you didn’t have) when you mentioned Money Heist. “Munch on some grapes instead” you suggested to soothe his disappointment.
You can’t help but feel a little sad when Jungkook doesn’t refrain from cuddling your arm after pleading to forgive him. You wish you could cuddle him instead, that he would lay his head on your chest as you play with his soft hair, but you recognize there are some things you just can’t have.
#jungkook#jeon jungkook#bts fic#bts imagine#bts smut#jjk fic#jjk smut#jungkook angst#jungkook drabble#idol au#idol!jungkook#jungkook fic#jeon jungkook drabble#jeon jungkook fic#jungkook fluff#jeon jungkook fluff#jjk fluff#jjk angst#jungkook imagine#jungkook boyfriend#jjk boyfriend
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Any Doctors Here?
pairing: mob boss!steve rogers x doctor!f!reader
genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst
warnings: mentions of burns and hospitals
requested: nope
summary: while visiting his favorite bar, steve stumbles upon a new bartender, but there is something off about her. after a small conversation, he finds out that she is indeed overqualified for the job; she was a jobless doctor in need of money. well, it just so happens that the last doctor that worked for steve quit, there was a slot open...
author's note: hiya peeps enjoy!
masterlist
---
Steve walked into the bar, looking around. All faces turned to him immediately. He smirked slightly when he saw everyone look away, squirming. Steve Rogers was a nationally recognized mobster boss. Sure, he was on the negative side but police had given up on him years ago. He roamed the streets freely now, much to the fear of people.
He wouldn't think of harming an innocent soul, but people didn't know that. He found their fear amusing so he never said anything. He walked up to the bartender, sitting in front of her. She gave him a smile. "What would it be, Mr Rogers?" she asked, turning back to the bottles kept on the shelf behind her.
Steve checked her out while she turned away. He decided that she was pretty, very much so. "Whiskey, please, darling," he told her, leaning against the counter. He also noticed that she was the only one not afraid of him. "What's your name?" he asked her as she prepared his drink.
"My name is no," she sang and he raised an eyebrow at her. Her confidence and sass surprised him. "I'm just kidding! I'm Y/N," she laughed, passing his glass to him. A second later, he laughed, too. "Y/N, pretty name. You aren't afraid of me?" he questioned curiously, downing the whiskey in one go.
"Not really. Why would I be?" she shrugged. "Don't you know who I am?" he asked her, shocked. "I literally addressed you by your name when you came in."
He had forgotten about that.
"Ah, right. Um, okay." For the first time in his life, he was stumped. He never had trouble talking to women, but something about Y/N was odd. He had to keep the conversation going. "So, uh, do you work here?" he blurted out. What if this was her cover and she really was someone else?
Would explain her nonchalance. "I love how you say something so obvious with such a sense of discovery," she smiled sassily, leaning on the counter in front of him. Her sarcasm was getting under his skin now but somehow, he liked it.
She was fierce. "No, I mean, do you work here permanently or is this a sort of part time job?" he rephrased, rolling his eyes. "Part time, you guessed right. I have an MBBS, no job," she chuckled. Ah, a doctor. The fact that she was well-educated sat right with Steve. She behaved like an intellectual. "Oh, that's nice." He ordered a few more drinks.
They continued talking but suddenly heard a scream.
Y/N and Steve turned around to see a man clutching his arm which had a burn visible on it. "Any doctors here?" his girlfriend screamed as the man groaned in pain. Y/N instantly ran towards him, grabbing a bottle of cold water along the way. She opened it and gently poured the water on his arm, which made the man sigh in relief.
"Call an ambulance right now," Y/N expertly told the girl, who nodded. She talked to someone on the phone as Y/N rolled up the sleeves of that man's hoodie. Steve watched all this with a slight smile on his face.
He was well used to having personal doctors and the last guy had just left the job. He felt like Y/N would be the perfect person for the job. She had an education anyway, how bad could it be? Also, he would pay her better than this small bar or any government job could ever. She deserved better pay.
Soon, the girl and her boyfriend were gone. Y/N walked back to the counter, wiping her hands on her apron. "So, uh, sorry about that," she muttered, smiling sheepishly at Steve.
"Don't be, please. You saved that man," he swiftly reassured her, shaking his head. Y/N nodded and silence fell between the two of them. "I have to ask you something," Steve blurted out. Y/N looked at him and nodded curiously. He proposed his idea to her and needless to say, Y/N was shocked.
Agreeing to work with a famous mobster was not something she expected would happen that day. She considered for a moment. Working with Steve could be nice…
He told her he would pay her well, she was already sold. She made her decision and nodded. "I agree," she smiled and Steve's eyes lit up with happiness. "Okay, here's my address, will you be able to stop by tomorrow?" he asked, jotting down his address on a tissue. "No problem. Bye!" she waved as he walked out of the bar. Y/N squealed, looking down the tissue paper.
Steve smiled as he walked back home. As he walked home, he couldn't stop thinking about the woman. Y/N. Beautiful, sassy, helpful, caring, fierce, intelligent… She was a package deal. A good one, of course. Was he getting a crush on the pretty bartender? He sighed and smiled again as he realized… he was.
Y/N's shift ended 2 hours later. She shrugged on her coat and walked outside, breathing in the outside air. As she walked home, she, too, couldn't stop thinking about the one and only, Steve Rogers.
That man oozed power and dominance wherever he went. He was a wealthy man, considering he dealt with black markets all the time. Not to mention his handsomeness. Y/N knew women who were head over heels for Steve. She used to think they shouldn't be, until she met him tonight.
Steve had been nothing but polite with her. He cracked good jokes and was really not the man Y/N expected him to be. Now that she knew that side of his, she finally acknowledged her crush on him.
Sure, she had a crush on him like the other women. But she kept it hidden given his position and job. A mobster boss? She could do so much better and safer. Y/N sighed as she reached home.
Oh, what will her feelings evolve into?
---
Y/N stood outside Steve's extravagant mansion, reconsidering her decision. She was dressed in a simple, flowy white sundress. She took in a deep breath and walked through the gates. The walk from the gates to the door of the mansion was long, but Y/N appreciated it since it gave her time to look at his pretty garden.
As soon as she walked up the stairs to the door, it opened. Steve stood there, dressed handsomely in a black suit. Steve, when he saw her, nearly choked on his own spit.
The dress she wore was damn close to being mistaken as a wedding dress. Honestly, Y/N looked like a bride to him. His bride, he thought to himself. Stop it, you met her yesterday! Similar thoughts were running through Y/N's head.
"Y/N! So glad you came." Steve smiled broadly to hide his inappropriate thoughts. "Hi Mr Rogers," she waved, letting him wrap his arms around her as he hugged her. "Steve, please." He kept his arm around her as they walked inside, towards her infirmary. Y/N noticed that there were guards outside every room they passed.
Steve, meanwhile, noticed how all the guards were smirking cheekily at him. He went a bit red and glared at them. The two lovebirds finally reached the infirmary of the mansion. Y/N gasped in awe as Steve opened the door to the beautiful room. "This will be your office," he told her proudly and she gave him a broad smile.
"I will love working here!" she squealed, jumping into his arms. Caught off guard, Steve stumbled backwards but hugged her back. After looking around the room, they walked outside. Steve led her up the stairs, where the bedrooms were.
She would be staying there, that would ensure her availability 24/7. It wasn't really a big deal for Steve, the mansion was super big and cozy. Y/N was confused, though. What could be upstairs? To her surprise, Steve showed her to a bedroom. "Um, this bedroom is nice, I guess. But why are you showing me this?"
"You'll be living here," Steve said, shrugging. Y/N's eyes widened. "And who decided that?" she scoffed. "I thought you knew," Steve narrowed his eyes, confused. "I knew that I'd be staying at your place? How?" she yelled. Didn't she wanna stay there? "Because you're working for me!" he yelled back.
His temper snapped. "You don't own me, Rogers, I'm only working for you. You can't tell me where I'm supposed to live and where not," she spat bitterly. Steve glared at her use of his last name. "How else do you think I'm going to ensure you are available everyday?" he shouted, crossing his arms. Both of them held glares on their faces.
Suddenly, Y/N sighed. "I'm sorry," she mumbled and Steve's glare softened. "Don't apologize. I should've told you before," he said, reaching out to touch her cheek. "Do you still want me around?" she asked tiredly, looking at him.
He nodded readily, of course he did. For his sake as well. "Good. When do I move in?" she chuckled. "Any time you want," he told her, smiling. He gave her a tour of the mansion and she left.
---
6 months passed since Y/N agreed to work with Steve. And what fun those months were... Y/N loved living with the mobster boss. He brought patients nearly everyday, though. In her free time, Y/N roamed around the mansion, cooked or went to the garden to enjoy the view.
She loved the garden especially, it was filled with beautiful flowers and there was a swing, too. She and Steve did not hang out much, he was always busy some way or another. Today, that wasn't the case. Y/N had fallen for the man, indefinitely. They found out more about each other when they started living together.
She found out that he was actually a sweetheart under that hardcore facade and Steve found out that he missed being in a steady relationship. He had had girlfriends before but only for nights, or weeks, at length. Never more than that. Now that Y/N was in his life, he wanted nothing more than to be hers. They had lived together for 6 months now and Steve was sure he loved her.
He couldn't find the courage to confess. What if she didn't like him back, thought he was weird and quit working for him? What if she stopped living with him? She loved the mansion, all her needs were met here. Would she give that up just because he confessed? He couldn't risk it. Y/N was worried about the same things but from different perspectives.
What if he fired her, made her pack her bags and leave? She didn't want to go.
Y/N sighed as she lay down on the soft grass of the garden, reading a book. Steve was right next to her, picking the petals off a flower. She noticed him and laughed. "What are you doing?" Y/N asked him, smirking. "She loves me, she loves me not," he smirked back, now used to her sass. "About whom?" Y/N snorted, sitting up.
She was a bit disheartened. "This really great woman I know. She's really beautiful, you know? She's also super intelligent, by the way. And she's caring, kind, helpful… I love her." Y/N's heart shattered at his words. He loved this woman. Meaning, her feelings were useless.
"She sounds lovely," Y/N choked out, looking at her book. "She is. But I don't know if she likes me back. We've only known each other for 6 months, I met her at a bar. There are a lot of disastrous things that could happen if I confessed," Steve sighed, smiling at her. Something struck inside Y/N's head.
He was talking about her!
"Like what?" she asked, now smiling at him. "Oh, I don't know… she wouldn't like me back, move out, stop working for me, agree to never see me again… I don't want that to happen," he chuckled, looking at Y/N. She shifted closer to him, wrapping her arms around him.
"I'm pretty sure none of it would happen. She would definitely say she loves you back," Y/N whispered. Steve hugged her tightly, burying his face in her shoulder. "Do you really?" he asked softly. "I do, Steve, what's there not to like about you?" she chuckled, running a hand through his hair.
"The fact that I'm a mobster?" he chuckled into her shoulder, pulling her on his lap. "I don't care about that. You're so much more than that. You're a good man, you treat innocent people nicely… you're a sweetheart when you want to be," she giggled, kissing the top of his head.
Steve pulled away and brought her face closer to his, pressing their lips together. He had waited so long for this to happen. Y/N kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "I love you," Steve breathed out, smiling up at his woman. "I love you, too," Y/N grinned. They spent the rest of the afternoon in the garden together.
---
a/n: thanks for reading, leave a like if you enjoyed!
#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x y/n#steve rogers x female reader#steven grant rogers#captain america#mob!steve rogers#steve rogers headcanon#steve rogers oneshot#chris evans x reader#chris evans x you#chris evans x y/n#chris evans x female reader#chris evans characters#disney#mcu#marvel#avengers#fanfic#writing#writeblr
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Another Place
Literally I haven’t been able to stop screaming since ep2 came out and I needed to write something
Read on AO3
Bobby is halfway through the third part of The Outsider when he hears a sharp noise followed by a curse coming from the fire station's kitchen. He sits up straight on his chair and even though the voice comes as a whisper, the door to his office is still ajar and Bobby can recognize some Spanish he learned back when he was in high-school.
It’s Eddie then, who always tends to resort to Spanish when he wants to curse or complain about something to himself.
Bobby puts down his book on his desk, stands up and opens his office door a bit wider so he can take a few steps inside the kitchen. The room is plunged into darkness but Bobby can still catch sight of Eddie’s silhouette, standing in front of a box of herbal tea, his eyebrows furrowed, as if he’s currently facing the most complicated dilemma of his entire life.
“Can’t sleep?” Bobby asks and makes Eddie jump with surprise, letting go of the mug he was holding in his right hand. And Bobby might be over 40 but his reflexes are still good and he managed to catch it before it breaks on the floor.
“Shit Bobby, you scared the hell out of me. Thought I was the only one awake.” Eddie says but his voice seems sad, almost dejected.
“Nightmares?” Bobby asks. After all, Eddie’s been through a lot for the past few months, it would only makes sense for his sleep to still be haunted by the memories of the shooting.
“More like insomnia.” Eddie corrects him, his eyes still down. “There’s just stuff I can’t get out of my head, you know.”
“Stuff about the shooting?” Bobby says calmly, but that’s enough for Eddie’s face to wince in pain.
“Among other things.”
“Why don’t you go sit down on the couch and let me take care of it?” He offers. Eddie’s hand stops in mid air and his shoulders eventually slumped as his heads nods, retreating back from the kitchen with a heavy step.
Bobby fills the kettle with water and turns it on before opening the box of herbal tea still on the counter. It’s an old box, supposed to help you sleep, one of those things he brought from home a few years ago when he realized it wasn’t much use back there. He places the tea bag in the mug, opens the drawer to grab a spoon and half a sugar cube. His movements are robotic, like he’s done that a thousand times in the past. And he did, back when his nights were filled with nightmares.
He lets out a sigh and leans against the fridge, looking at Eddie out of the corner of the eye. He’s seated on the armchair, his eyes fixed on the ground, the same haunted look Bobby saw him with a few times already during this past few weeks.
The light turns off on the kettle, and Bobby pours the water in the mug, before making his way towards the ‘living room’ area where he places the tray on the coffee table.
“Wanna talk about it?” Bobby asks as he takes on the seat on the couch.
“It’s just-” Eddie starts but marks a pause, like he’s not sure how to say the next few words. “Just stuff I- I try very hard not to think about. Or just bury- bury somewhere in my brain but-”
“It keeps coming back?” Bobby offers and smiles when Eddie just nods quietly as he takes a sip of his herbal tea. “Does it have anything to do with your panic attacks?”
Eddie’s mouth turns up at the edges but he presses his lips together in a straight line just as fast.
“How do you know about them?” Eddie asks, his voice barely louder than a whisper.
“I have my ways.” Bobby answers with a hint of amusement.
“Let me guess.” Eddie starts. “Buck?” And even though the words come out as a question, Bobby knows there’s no real need to answer. He still nods though, and smiles when Eddie rolls his eyes with a fond expression. “They were because of Ana.”
“The panic attacks?” Bobby asks, his eyebrows raised in confusion. “Were?” He adds. “You don’t have them anymore?”
“No.” Eddie shakes his head. “We broke up.” He adds. “I was trying to make it work for Christopher’s sake. Thought he loved her. And he liked her okay but turns out he was only going along with it because he thought she made me happy.” Eddie tells him, a sad laugh escaping his lips.
“And she didn’t?” Bobby encourages him. “Make you happy, that is.”
Eddie opens his mouth like he wants to say something but stops himself from doing so the next second. There’s a small silence after that. Eddie’s eyes are staring into space, his forehead wrinkled in concern, like he’s hopping that if he thinks about it long enough, an answer is going to magically appear in front of him.
“It was nice.” He starts and Bobby raises his eyebrows, unimpressed. “It just wasn’t working.” Eddie adds. “Couldn’t have worked.” He precises. “Not when I-” He marks a pause again, and closes his eyes while pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and his index. “I guess my heart just wasn’t in it.”
Bobby says nothing for a while. He just smiles. Because he knows where Eddie drives at. It’s been a long time coming, after all. All the looks, the soft glances, the sweet gestures. All the signs were there, and they were clear. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that what these two shared went beyond friendship.
“Have you talked to Buck about it, Eddie?” Bobby asks, his voice gentle.
Eddie flushes, and looks away. Because Bobby’s not only asking him if he talked to Buck about his break-up with Ana. No, in fact he’s asking a lot more than just that. And Eddie knows it. He’s just not sure he’s ready to go there.
“I... I did.” Eddie says, and closes his eyes again. “I mean I- I told him about Ana but I think he knows that… That it’s not only about the break up.” He adds. “It’s never been only about the break up, Bobby.” He admits. “It’s never been only about Ana.”
“I know.” Bobby smiles.
“He broke up with Taylor.” Eddie blurts out and Bobby’s not one to gossip about other people’s relationship because, ultimately, that’s their business and he’d hate to interfere with any of that. But as he sits there on that couch, watching Eddie, there’s only one thing that comes to his mind.
Freaking finally.
“So the ball’s in your court now, isn’t it?” Bobby asks.
“I guess it is, yeah.” Eddie answers, darting his eyes towards him before looking away just as fast. “And you know I was- I was waiting for the right time but…”
Bobby’s mouth turns up at the edges once again.
“I’m just so freaking tired of waiting, Cap.” Eddie finally says, and one of these rare soft smiles only reserved to Buck breaks in on his face. “I- I want this. Us.”
“I think everyone’s tired of waiting, Eddie.” Bobby remarks with a hint of amusement in his voice. “Tell him.” He adds. “After all we both know how he’s gonna react.”
“It’s- it’s gonna be good, right?” Eddie asks, his voice uncertain, a part of him still doubting. Bobby rolls his eyes and lets out a small laugh.
“Eddie, it’s Buck.” He reminds him. “He’s gonna be like a kid on Christmas morning.” He adds. “That boy loves you two to the moon and back.”
And, as if summoned, Buck chooses this moment to appear on top of the stairs, his eyes sleepy and his hair disheveled making his blond curls go in every direction. Bobby watches him as he shuffles towards them, and doesn’t miss the way his eyes light up when they fall on Eddie.
“Hey Eds.” He says, his voice soft, taking a seat on the arm of the chair Eddie's seated on. “You okay? I woke up and you- well you weren’t on your bunk.”
Bobby gives Eddie a knowing look and stands up, retreating back in his office once again, only this time he makes sure to lock the door behind him. He can still hear the muffled words coming from the living-room but nothing he can actually make sense of.
He lets his back rest on the backrest of his chair and goes back to his reading. It’s almost five in the morning now, and Bobby doesn’t see the appeal of trying to get a few hours sleep, especially now that they’ve been unbothered by any calls for a bit more than two hours. It’s certainly not going to last forever.
He finds himself so engrossed in his reading that the next thing he knows, a bit more than half an hour has passed and the kitchen is now dead quiet. The first sunbeams light up the fire station and Bobby decides that now is as good a time as any to start on breakfast.
Only, what he sees when he goes back inside the kitchen makes him stop in his tracks and smiles. Because there they are passed out on the couch, their legs intertwined and Eddie’s head pressed on the other’s chest while Buck has wrapped his left arm around Eddie’s waist while his right hand is buried in his black hair.
“Oh god.” He can hear Hen say from the top of the stairs. “Is this really happening?” She asks and Bobby only chuckles while shaking his head in disbelief.
“I guess it is.” He says.
“Holy shit.” This time, it’s Chimney’s turn to curse. “I’m calling Maddie.” He adds.
“Chim, it’s 5am.” Hen remarks.
“Oh trust me if I wait any longer I think she’ll punch me.”
“I’m taking a picture for the group-chat.” Ravi intervenes behind Chimney and Bobby only watches them from the kitchen with an amused smile.
“Guys come on, let them sleep for a while okay? They deserve it.”
“We’re not sleeping.” Buck’s voice comes from behind the couch. Bobby can’t see him but he can only picture the exasperated expression on his face.
“Not anymore.” Eddie adds.
Bobby rolls his eyes and turns his back on them to face the oven while chaos suddenly erupts in the fire station.
With a sigh and an amused smile, he starts on breakfast.
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