#I don’t actually what this to happen at all I just think they should high-five over something not at all high-five worthy

[ferrstappen]

unscheduled school visit l Max Verstappen

a/n: hello! i got this quick idea while working on some requests/school work. hope you like it and pls pls feel free to leave feedback <3 it really motivates me <3

pairing: dad!Max Verstappen x female reader.

summary: the twins' teacher calls, the twins got in trouble. Max is in disbelief.

Max was a strict parent. 

Not in the way people may think, and not in the least similar to how his dad was with him, but Max always was concerned on how the twins were doing in school, only in first grade, but still. He was always working on instilling discipline and hard work to Luca and Mila, so in the future they can be whatever the hell they want to be. Max knew money was never going to be an issue, so it was up to them to take all the opportunities that meant.

He always tried to take them to museums when they joined races, often tried to switch languages, even encouraging other drivers and people in the grid who interacted with the kids to speak in their different languages. 

It was always fun to watch Charles speaking to Luca in French or Italian as Luca slowly tried to come up with an answer and was always met with a high five, or Mila asking Checo why Carlos had a different accent. 

The smile never disappeared from your face when you get home from running an errand or attending a meeting that couldn’t be held on Zoom, to Luca and Mila chatting about what they learned on school today or silently doing their homework on the family room while Max watched them, himself also getting some things in the meantime.

The point is the twins were smart, both you and Max putting all your efforts to gently and effectively find what they like, what they don’t. 

You know your kids. Both of you would put your hands on fire because of them. You trusted them because Max and you were raising them good and the twins were great beyond words could explain. 

So when you receive a call from school telling you to come over, you quickly reached Max who was on the sim, driving through Imola with his eyes closed. 

“Babe, school called and we have to go,” As soon as you announced the news Max turned around, seat and steering wheel lightly shaking. 

“What do you mean? What happened?” Max was instantly on his feet.

“I don’t know, Max. Their teacher called,” You told your husband as his eyes opened widely. 

“Their? Is it both of them?” Max was in complete disbelief of what he was hearing.

“It appears so. I’ll cancel a meeting and we go.”

You didn’t leave him alone for thirty seconds, you swear, but when you came back Max was on the phone, asking the teacher to put Mila on the phone. 

He knew his daughter too well. She was outspoken, assertive, didn’t think twice. Luca was more cautious, wise and maybe a little timid. 

“Pap, he was trying to pull Luca’s hair and stealing his crayons, and Luca was letting him because he didn’t want to cause any trouble!” an agitated Mila informed Max, speaking a broken dutch. 

“Are you okay?” Max calmly asked his frantic daughter. He knew she was disquieted, trying to sound more sure of herself than she actually was. 

“Yes,” she said in dutch, but in the back her teacher told her in a sweet voice to speak in a language they could all understand. 

“Okay baby girl, mama and I are on our way, see you in a bit,”

During the drive to La Condamine to reach the International School of Monaco, you discovered a side of your husband you had yet to see. It was fun. 

“She is not apologizing!” Max told you, eyes not leaving the narrow road.

“Max, she pulled the kid’s hair,” You reminded your husband, who softly shook his head in disagreement. 

“Yes, because the idiot kid was bothering Luca and pulled his hair! If anything that kid should be apologizing to Luca, his sister just defended him!” His lisp was more prominent as you reached the parking lot overlooking the several yachts.

Max noticed the other child’s parents already walking inside the school, there weren’t many students in the Early Years building. He pressed the gas harder than necessary, making the engine of the family Aston Martin roar like they were in the paddock. 

Your eyes rolled at his antics, but still it made your insides feel giddy at the thought of your husband being protective and loving. 

Luca’s arms were wrapped around you as soon as you walked inside. Kneeling to reach his height, your heart broke at the sight of his disheveled hair and wet cheeks, his beautiful eyes red. Luca tried to not sniff and stop the tears, trying to be brave when he felt your hands on his cheeks and kissing his forehead, asking if he was okay. 

At the same time, Max sat next to Mila whose eyes didn’t leave the other kid’s sight, whom you learned his name was Oliver. Max knew his daughter wanted to shed a tear, but didn’t let it show, so he just gave her a reassuring look before listening to the teacher who had the three of them in charge.

Curtly shaking hands with Oliver’s parents, Max politely ignoring the poor attempt of one of “the idiot kid’s” dad to start a conversation, obviously starstruck by your husband the World Champion. 

Yes, it was Monaco and everyone knew each other, and it didn’t take a genius to deduce the two Verstappen named kids on the class were the children of the Max Verstappen, but he was often away and it was mostly you who attended parent-related stuff, but now there was the chance to have a conversation directly with him. 

Oh well. 

The four got inside the car, Max adjusting the seats before getting in the driver seat. Mila and Luca loudly sighed, knowing what followed.

“I don’t know how to address this. I’m moved and proud that you look out and defend each other, but M, baby, pulling someone else’s hair is not the way,” you softly told your daughter. “and Luca, honey, I know it’s hard but when someone invades your space and is rude, but you can tell the teacher before it makes you feel bad and leads to this,” 

Max’s eyes followed the twins movements through the rearview mirror as you talked to them, soon reaching your home. You grabbed the backpacks and Max helped the twins get out of the car.

He reached Luca’s door first. When he was out, he left a kiss on his forehead and ruffled his hair, softly reminding his carbon copy that he was a little lion, still with lots to learn, but no one ever could make him feel like this. 

Then he reached Mila’s door. Her eyes now were a bit glossy, but he knew she was just like him, Mila would never show weakness. He reminded her that she can take some weight off, let her guard down with her parents before kissing her hair. 

You watched the scene unfold from afar, not knowing what he told them, but sure they were the right words.

Then giggles reached your ears, eyes immediately rolling. 

He was fist bumping Mila, giving her a nod of approval.

For God’s sake, this wouldn’t be the first time you’re called to school, that’s for sure.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen au #max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen blurb #dad!max verstappen #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #Max Verstappen fanfic

[btsugarush]

GANGSTA | myg - 002

summary: rough sex, blood money, drugs, and gang related activity; four things you never predicted to experience in your simple life. not until you opened your mouth and caught his attention

pairings: gang leader!yoongi x f!reader

warnings: smut, gunplay, drugs, drug addiction, dark!yoongi, drug lord!yoongi, strong language, gang violence, blood and gore, murder, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behavior, abuse, cheating, angst, fluff, dubcon, implied noncon (not from yoongi but within his gang with his knowledge), 18+, minors dni

word count: 3K

author’s note: sorry if you asked to be on the taglist and didn’t make it. i’ve reached over 50 and couldn’t add anymore people. i’ll add more of you in the comments.

“I’m glad you’re okay after all of that,” Jungkook says on the other end of your phone; you had just spilled about the chaotic situation at Makoto as it was still weighing heavily on your mind. You couldn’t shake what Jimin had said about that Yoongi guy killing someone, though it could have just been a rumor. If he had actually taken someone’s life there would be no way they would allow him to walk the streets. He’d be too much of a flight risk.

“You should really be careful in the future. I know you like to stand up for people that can’t stand up for themselves, but Yoongi is bad news. There’s no telling what he would’ve done to you on the wrong day.”

“So you know him too?” You quiz. It seemed as though everyone knew who this guy was besides you. Maybe you don’t get out enough. Or maybe you were just good at staying away from trouble– until this afternoon at least. “I know of him, but not personally. He came to the shop once like five months ago with the same tall guy you were talking about. He told my coworker Si-Woo to step outside, and the next thing you know he's pistol-whipping him nearly to death. Rumor around the shop was that Si-Woo sold drugs for Yoongi, and owed him a lot of money.”

“Really?” Your mouth drops in shock. “What did Si-Woo say about it?”

“He never talked about it, ended up quitting the next day, and told us ‘not to get the police involved because it wouldn’t be of any help and it was all just a misunderstanding’.” He quoted. “Well, three days later Si-Woo’s body was found hacked to pieces and stuffed in a suitcase behind an alley on Gongdan lane.”

You heard about that case on the news some time ago, but had no clue that Jungkook knew the victim on an intimate level. It honestly made you shiver a bit. Imagine being the one to discover the body, and how gruesome the sight must have been. Stuff like that was common in slum areas though. Crime was especially high in Gongdan lane of all places, which is why you made sure to never venture in that area. “You think Yoongi had something to do with his murder?”

Jungkook scoffed. “The guy was viciously pistol-whipping him three days before his body was identified. I know he had something to do with it, but none of us were willing to risk going to the cops, so we just moved on like it didn’t happen.” Jungkook pauses for a moment before he speaks again. “You know… sometimes I think that maybe we could’ve saved his life if we did report the incident. Sometimes I still look at his station and feel like he’s there, tattooing.” He sighs heavily, like it was a great weight lifted from his shoulders to even tell you.

“You did what you felt was necessary. As fucked up as it may seem, you had to think about what was best for you.” You try your best to comfort him as he seemed to hold on to a lot of guilt regarding Si-Woo’s death, and reminiscing didn’t help. To have the man who could have potentially murdered your friend roaming free to terrorize all of Daegu couldn’t be a great feeling. You felt for him.

“I know. It’s just fucked to know he went through such a fucked up death. I don’t even want to imagine how scared he must’ve been,” you could hear clanking on the other end, as though he was biting down on his lip piercing. “I don’t even like the thought of knowing you tangled with them. He seems the type to hold grudges, and I don’t want you to get hurt. I’d lose my shit and go after him myself.”

You smile softly. “And I just know you’d kick his ass, my tough Kookie.” You both laugh at the nickname, which is one of many you had with the word ‘cookie’ in it. You could be so cheesy sometimes, but Jungkook loved everything about it. “You don’t have to worry though, apparently he likes me so maybe I’m in the clear?” You say unsuringly, still not understanding what he meant by it. It was very abrupt and cryptic. “Well whatever he meant, he’s out of luck because you’re spoken for.”

“As if he’d ever had a chance to begin with, I don’t think I’d mesh well with a criminal,” You chuckled. “I’m more into sweet, sensitive guys with tattoos and piercings.”

“Yeah? I think I know someone like that.” You could tell that he’s cheesing on the other end, which made you cheese. Everything always felt so natural with Jungkook. Him being your best friend in high school really played hand in hand with that. He was no different from a lover than he was a best friend. You two were absolutely the same and you loved it.

“You should probably get some sleep now, Angel. You don’t want to go to work exhausted, and I don’t wanna be blamed for you oversleeping again.” You simply roll your eyes in a playful manner, but agree nonetheless. You couldn’t chance being up so late, Mr. Kim was very strict about being on time.

“I guess you’re right,” you pout. “Okay, I’ll talk to you tomorrow when I get off work.”

“Okay, Angel. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Kookie cake.” You pull your phone from your ear, ending the call before you get up from your bed to switch off your bedroom lights. You crawl back onto the mattress, pulling your blanket over your body. Picking your phone back up again, you swipe through your apps until you locate the clock app. You set your alarm to wake you up at 12:00 PM on the dot. Just as you were about to place your phone down on your nightstand, something overcame you and you got the urge to search Yoongi’s name on Google.

When you type in his name, you are shocked to see so many results come up effortlessly. Several different mugshots from several different instances, all dating from when he was a teenager to one that seemed recent. You click on the one that looks most recent, letting it redirect you to the Daegu booking website.

Name: Min Yoongi

Age: 30

BOOKING DETAIL

Status: Released

Building: Public Safety Building

Area: Maledorm

Booking number: 575857

Booking date: 3/26/2023 11:56:00 pm

ARRESTS

Arrest number: 680071205

Arrest date: 3/26/2023 10:06:00 pm

Arresting agency: Daegu Police Department

Agency case number: 25-18056

ASSAULT WITH A DEADLY WEAPON

ATTEMPTED FIRST-DEGREE MURDER

POSSESSION WITH INTENT TO SELL

You read over the arrests in shock, completely dumbfounded by how a man of his caliber could be released from jail and not behind bars rotting for the rest of his life. He practically lived in jail anyway, why not just keep him there? You eye his mugshot, his intense stare giving you the chills. You didn’t need to wonder how the officer taking the photo must’ve felt considering you too have felt those daggers looking into the depths of your soul.

You pull your sight away from the photo, swiping away the page. You didn’t want to spend any more time on Yoongi. What happened at Makoto is behind you now. You just wanted to forget about the situation, and never run into Yoongi– or Joon for that matter, again. You plug your phone to your charger, sitting the device on your nightstand before you drift off to sleep.

“I was starting to think you weren’t going to show.” Mr. Kim looks surprised as you step into the kitchen, taking an apron from the hook on the wall. “Why wouldn’t I show up?” You quirk a brow, tying the black fabric around your waist. “Because I thought you would’ve been too scared to show your face after going toe to toe with the devil’s minions the other day.”

You click your tongue, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. You couldn’t believe people were still on that. Just as you walked in you overheard a customer whispering ‘she’s still alive?’ to her friend. It’s absurd at this point. “I think everyone is blowing what happened yesterday way out of proportion.” You shake your head, grabbing a notepad and pen from the pencil holder.

“I’d like to say we are, kid, but you got lucky. That Yoongi is no joke to be played with. The guy is a menace. Some people say the only reason he’s not in jail is because he has affiliations within the police unit, and I wouldn’t doubt if it’s true. Our system is corrupt.” The older man sighs. ‘Oh great, here he goes with politics and corruption again…’ you thought. You had better get out on the floor before you’re caught in a whirlwind of it.

You leave him to discuss the topic with himself as you step out onto the floor, and start taking customer orders. “Hey, you’re that crazy girl from yesterday.” A man says as you approach his table. You frown, already knowing what he was referring to, so you avoid it at all cost. “What can I get you?” You redirect the conversation.

“Oh! Uhhh,” he picks up the menu from his table, skimming through it. “I’ll have the Jajangmyeon.” He answers quickly. You scribble down his order. “Anything to drink?” You ask. “Ginseng tea, thank you.” He places the menu back on the table. You nod, taking down his drink. “Okay, I’ll be right back with that tea.” You smile kindly before heading back to the kitchen. You rip the orders from the notepad, clipping them to the ticket holder.

“Hey, kid. We’ve got a delivery order for dumplings.” Mr. Kim informs you as you’re preparing tea for the customer. The older gentleman approaches you, the order already made and secured in a brown bag. You take the bag from him, looking at the order ticket attached to it.

As you read over the address on the ticket, your eyes practically bulge out of your skull. ‘2357 Gongdan Lane’. “Um… Mr. Kim, this location is in the slums of Daegu.” You look at him with concern. “I know.” The man simply nods, taking the tickets you set from the holder. “Yeah, well, I can’t go to Gongdan lane. It’s dangerous, especially for me as a woman.”

“Look kid, I’m sorry. If Jimin was here I’d have him go but he doesn’t work on Saturdays and you’re my only worker.”

“Exactly. I’m the only worker, you need me to be at the shop taking orders.” You knew that wasn’t going to go over as it was a slow day, and there were hardly any customers in the shop to begin with. “I can handle the customers and cook the ramen until you get back.”

You couldn’t believe this. Just as you had prided yourself in never stepping foot in Gongdan, here was this old dirty bastard making you go. On top of that, the restaurant didn’t even own a company car for deliveries so you had to ride a bike. You read over the ticket again, noticing that there wasn’t even a name on the order. “There’s no name on the order, this could be a trick that ends with me getting robbed for free food.”

“All this time wasted on talking about it could be used on getting the delivery done. Stop complaining and do what you’re paid to do. The faster you get it done, the faster you can come back.”

You wanted to stomp your foot like a child and continue to protest, but you couldn’t risk your job by not listening so you did the only sensible thing you could do. Your job. You grab a plastic bag, shoving the brown one inside of it before leaving through the back exit in the kitchen. You spot the red delivery bike lying on the ground, and pick it up, looping the plastic bag around the bike handle.

As you mount the bicycle, you pull out your phone to use your GPS. The ride was about 12 minutes away. If you ride fast you could undoubtedly make it at least an 8 minute ride. You kick back the breaks and set off on your journey. During the ride as you make it into the slum area, you could truly see the separation from Sangsu-dong to Gongdan lane. The sidewalks were cracked and unpaved, the buildings looked more rundown, and homeless people laid out in sleeping bags.

You got an uneasy feeling as you noticed a group of men smoking weed on a corner and intensely watching you go by. You probably stood out like a sore thumb, riding through Daegu’s slummiest on a red bike. You swallowed the lump in your throat, keeping your eyes forward as you paid them no mind. As you continue going, you notice the streets become more isolated. Your GPS directs you to turn, which you follow only to come upon a big warehouse that looked abandoned. ‘You’ve arrived’, your GPS says. You furrow your brows, confusion written over your face.

“Stupid thing must’ve sent me to the wrong location.” You grab the bag of dumplings from the bike handle, circling around the warehouse just in case you were mistaken. You find a door on the other end, cameras surrounding it like it was a government building. You inspect the door, seeing that there was a red button of some sort on it.

You scope the perimeter, making sure no one was trying to sneak attack you. The whole thing seemed completely sketchy. You take a deep breath before pressing down on the button, a loud buzz coming from it. You take a step back, waiting for someone to come open the door. You stood there for about two minutes, not wanting to wait around any longer. You knew this was a scam. You should’ve just gone home and pretended like you delivered the food. It would’ve saved you the trouble. As you turn to walk back to the bike, the door suddenly opens with a loud creaking sound.

You direct your attention back to the door, locking eyes with an individual that you dreaded to ever see again. “Oh my god… i-it’s you…” you stutter in shock, seeing Yoongi stand in the doorway with a smirk plastered on his face. “Wonder Woman, we meet again.”

You’re silent, not really saying a word as you feel too stunned to speak. “You got something for me, sweetheart?” His eyes darted to the bag in your hand. You snap from your fearful trance, remembering why you were there in the first place. “Uh… yeah. Here’s your order.” You stretch out your arm to hand him the bag, not wanting to come any closer. The raven reaches forward, his hand brushing yours as he takes the bag from you. You quickly turn away, rushing back over to your bike.

“Hey, I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself yesterday.” He says, following behind you. “I already know who you are.” You mumble as you mount the red two wheeler. “Really? You didn’t seem to know who I was yesterday. If you did, you wouldn’t have shot your pretty mouth off like that,”

He grabs the handles of your bike, preventing you from leaving. “You look scared. Guess my reputation precedes me.” He says almost too proudly. “Not in a way that a decent human being should want it to, but I guess decency isn’t what you’re aiming for.” you say slickly, which causes the raven to smile. “There goes that smart mouth again,” he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, giving you the same predatory stare from yesterday. “Normally I wouldn’t tolerate anyone getting slick at the mouth with me, but from you it’s kind of a turn on.”

You scowl, ignoring his sexual advance. “Can you let go of my bike? I need to get back to work.”

“How about you let me drive you?” he offers, but you quickly decline. You’d be an idiot to get in the car with a proclaimed murderer. “I’ll take my chances on the bike, thank you.” The raven lets go of the handles, taking a step back to allow you to be on your way. “Be my guest, sweetheart.”

You kick back the break, not wanting to waste any more of your time in Gongdan speaking to this thug. You back away from him, turning the bike to ride down the path you came. “I hope to see you again, Y/N.” He calls out. You come to an abrupt stop, looking back at the raven. How did he know your name? “I don’t remember telling you my name.”

“You didn’t need to. I have my sources and connections, Princess. Whatever I need or want, I get.”

You cringe at the nickname ‘princess’. Jungkook doesn’t even call you that, with all the cheesy nicknames he does use. Him knowing your name suddenly made you question how coincidental this whole encounter was. You were starting to wonder how much about you he knew. As if he read your mind, he starts to read you like an autobiography. “You were born in Busan and raised right here in Daegu, you’re an ex nursing student, an only child, both your parents passed away in a tragic car accident, your best friend is Sang Mina, and your boyfriend is… Jeon Jungkook? Am I right?”

Your heart pounds against your chest as he spoke information that only people close to you would know. You felt sick, creeped out even, but you tried not to display that on your face. “So, I guess you know my work schedule then. You set this little encounter up knowing that I was the only worker today, didn’t you?” the raven simply shrugged like he couldn’t answer whether that was true or not, but you knew that it was. “I don’t know what your deal is, but just stay away from me, okay?”

Yoongi sneered, as he turned on his heels, heading back to the door from once he came. The raven makes sure he gets the last word though.

“I can’t make you any promises, sweetheart. Like I said, whatever I want, I get.”

Taglist

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[navybrat817]

Look at that stare!

Time to Study

Summary: Bucky told you he needed help with his studies, but you should have known he just wanted an excuse to kiss you.

Pairing: College!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: Over 1.2k Warnings: K-I-S-S-I-N-G, college AU, nicknames, Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning) A/N: Okay, lovelies. Meet Titan and Starshine in the college AU no one asked for, Falling For You. Thank you @rookthorne, @sgt-seabass, and @chasingmarvel!❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

"Bucky, I think you've been on that page for the last five minutes."

He shrugged and continued to stare, his blue eyes focused completely on you. A smile began to spread across your face before you cleared your throat and glanced at your book. Your face heated up when you still felt his gaze on you. With the looks of a model and a smile that could make panties drop, it was almost overwhelming to have his attention.

But you liked it.

“Why didn’t we meet in the library?” you asked, suddenly aware of how hot it was in your room.

Or was it him?

You were also aware of how close he was to you on your bed. You could’ve chosen to sit in a chair or on the floor, but you made the decision to take your bed. He followed suit and kept a reasonable distance. But he moved closer with each passing second until his knee almost bumped yours.

No way in hell were you going to stop him.

“It’s more comfortable here,” he replied. You tried not to lose yourself in his eyes when you dared to look at him. “Don’t you think?”

Your heart fluttered in your chest as you nodded. You even managed not to whimper when he placed his hand on your thigh. With his sleeve pushed up, you could see the veins in his forearm, a visual reminder of his strength. He didn’t slide his hand up any higher or apply any pressure. It rested there, like he was testing the waters.

Come on in. The water’s fine.

"It is, but I thought you said you needed my help," you reminded him when he made no move to read or look over his notes.

Some assumed that because Bucky was good looking, athletic, and a member of the most popular fraternity on campus that he got people to do his work for him. That couldn't have been further from the truth. He was a nice, smart guy, much smarter than most expected. And while he didn't brag about his grades, he more than earned his high GPA through his intelligence and hard work.

The whole package. Wait, why does he need my help again?

"Stop staring!" you said, trying your hardest not to smile when he lightly chuckled. It was such a sexy sound. "We need to study."

"Oh. I actually finished studying before I stopped by. You know I’m getting an A in that class," he smirked, shutting the book and moving it beside him. "Or did I forget to mention that?"

It was your turn to stare at him, your mouth open when he flashed his winning smile.

Smug. Bastard.

"You lied to me, Bucky Barnes."

He pouted before he smiled again. "I didn't lie. I would never lie to you.”

His hand went to the back of your neck as you tried to remember to breathe. "Yes, you did,” you huffed, not wanting to let him off the hook. Even if he distracted you the more he leaned in, his fingertips tickling your skin. “You said you needed my help. I cleared my whole afternoon."

Like he had to twist my arm to make that happen.

"I do need your help. I need a kiss and you’re the only one who can help me with that,” he argued, his nose bumping yours. “And if you want me to maintain my high GPA, I'll need to study every single one of your kisses thoroughly. Even if it takes all night."

That would’ve been cheesy from anyone else, but he made it sound so genuine.

“You’re ridiculous,” you giggled, running your fingers through his soft hair. His words flustered you and you wondered if he noticed. "What would your brothers say if they heard you?"

Ridiculous and charming and handsome and he smells good and his lips are so close to mine.

“Being ridiculous doesn’t change the fact that I need a kiss,” he said, breathing against your lips. "And no mention of my brothers when you're in my arms. Only me."

Only you, Bucky.

“After I’m done studying,” you whispered with a twinkle in your eyes.

He growled when you giggled again, but didn’t give you the chance to move away. One day you'd get out of one of his holds, but today wasn't it. “Just one little kiss, Starshine? Any kind of kiss you want as long as I get one.”

You sucked in a breath when he licked his lips, his tongue close enough that it brushed against your mouth. It would’ve been easy to close the last bit of distance and put you both out of your misery. Still playing the part of a gentleman, the hand on your thigh didn’t move. But his grip tightened a fraction.

Enough to let you know how badly he needed you.

As much as Bucky wanted to, he didn’t kiss you the night the two of you spoke for the first time. He was a gentleman and didn’t rush it, even after you stayed up all night chatting. Now you look forward to each and every kiss.

He could have any girl on campus and he’s desperate for me.

“One,” you agreed, capturing his mouth in a gentle kiss.

Bucky returned it with fervor and you were helpless to do anything but get swept away. His lips molded against yours perfectly and you practically crawled into his lap as he deepened the kiss, studying long forgotten at that point. It was a feat you lasted as long as you did without throwing yourself at him.

This is definitely going to be more than one kiss if we don't stop.

“Back to studying?” you asked breathlessly.

“Only if I get to kiss you again when we’re done,” he smiled.

“Are my kisses that great, Titan?” you asked, running a finger along his sharp jawline.

Maybe you weren't playing fair by using his nickname, which he loved hearing from you, but he started it by suggesting a fake study session just to get a kiss from you and using your nickname first.

Instead of a smug smirk when Bucky pulled back, his cheeks flushed slightly as he regarded you with an easy smile. “If you knew what it was like to kiss you, you’d never wanna stop,” he answered, making your heart thud in your chest as he pulled you closer by the hips.

A knock on the door broke you temporarily from your spell, but you stayed close in Bucky’s lap.

“Hey!” your roommate said through the door. “Are you two decent? I need to grab something real quick.”

Great timing.

“Unfortunately, we are,” you teased, pressing your forehead against Bucky’s as she put her key in the door. "Now we have to study."

“Don't mind me! Not looking!” your roommate announced, rummaging through her closet until she found what she needed. “Use protection! Don’t need you knocking her up!”

Bucky laughed when you groaned, both of you used to her antics. “How about we study in my room next time?” he offered.

“Deal," you agreed, sneaking in one more quick kiss.

Although you had a feeling you wouldn’t get much studying done at his place either, you didn't mind one bit.

Another couple for me to adore. Love and thanks! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ KoFi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #college!bucky barnes #college!bucky barnes reader #falling for you au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #college au #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #titan and starshine

[shaunamilfman]

Lucy MacLean x Wastelander R HC's

you start looking at her in a new light after she sets off a grenade that takes out a room full of enemies. you're so impressed with her that she doesn't have the heart to tell you that she just accidentally tripped into a row of shelves and knocked an old grenade on the floor. 

“you want the head?”/ Lucy, love-struck “i mean if you're offering.” a pause, thinking over what you just said and looking disappointed. ”wait– did you say the head?"

most shocked look ever watching you loot bodies. on her high horse talking about “stealing is wrong” till you agree and say you just won’t be able to have dinner that night then. suddenly she’s willing to make exceptions to her morals, go figure.

whenever she starts talking too much, you start describing the most horrific looking monsters you've fought. she's following silently behind you in horror for a good mile before she manages to shake that description off and starts talking just as eagerly again. the silence was nice while it lasted. 

Lucy pretends to not know how to do things so that you’ll teach it to her as an excuse to talk to you but takes it way too far. you’re like, “what do you mean you don’t know how to open a can?” while she looks visibly upset that you don’t wrap your arms around her to show her how like she’s seen in those pre-war movies.

uses your rations to try to tame herself a pet while you're camping for the night. you’re looking everywhere for your last box of sugar bombs only to find a shameless Lucy feeding it to the ugliest animal you’ve ever seen as she tries to entice it to do tricks. She insists that she doesn’t understand why you’re mad about it but you can’t help but notice she never uses her rations for it. you end up getting so mad that you can’t even speak to her, which turns out to be the most effective punishment you ever could have come up with. she’s sitting there and begging you to talk to her because she's going crazy without human interaction (it's been five minutes).

you’re surprised and a little sad to see that Lucy isn’t in the camp when you wake up the next morning but it’s fine. You don’t need her anyway, right? You try not to look relieved when she trudges in halfway through taking the camp down covered in soot and grime and collapses in her cot as she holds up a pristine box of sugar bombs she spent all night searching for.

Lucy sees you smile one (1) time and will not get over it. “you have such a pretty smile, you should really smile more. you know it really lights up your face and…” on and on for like ten minutes. The type to grab for your face to pull the sides of your lips up to make you smile. You’re still visibly frowning, just with your lips pulled up at the sides. Lucy’s so frustrated with you mostly because she realized you’re actually really nice to look at when you aren’t glaring at everything. 

Lucy would call you lover unironically. goes through a million different terms of endearment before finally deciding on that one. it was one of the least embarrassing ones that she suggested so you wearily let it happen. walking for miles with Lucy trying them out initially like "honey. baby. teddy bear. big teddy bear of death? murder bear? no, okay, got it. sweetie. babe…” 

pretending not to know about things Lucy is referencing to see how long it takes for her to realize you’re messing with her. she's talking about her book club and you’re like “book? what's a book?” and she’s spiraling trying to explain the concept of written word to you

no concept of flirting. give her your absolute best lines and she's like “haha… okay?”. got to be as blunt as possible. tell her you want to fuck and she's like “oh yeah, sure.”

#lucy maclean x reader #fallout x reader

[theminecraftbee]

Joel stares at the ceiling. It’s sure a hospital ceiling alright. Grey tiles, fluorescent lights, a steady beep in the background. Great. He’s in the hospital his first day in town. He’s sure that bodes well for the future of his time in Hermiton, truly. What had he been saying to himself before he arrived? That he just had to survive one more year of high school and then he could go be a hermit in the woods or at least pass his exams to get that architecture degree he used to dream about.

“Oh, you’re awake! You’re the last to wake up. It’s just exhaustion, don’t worry. That always happens the first few times you summon your Persona. Your body gets used to it and stops trying to force you into the ground the moment you enter Real Space again eventually.”

He tries very hard not to groan out loud. If he doesn’t move or make any noise, maybe the weird guy won’t notice he’s awake. Maybe he’ll go away and like, whatever adult in town is currently supposed to be in charge of him will show up and sign some paperwork and Joel can leave.

There’s a long, awkward silence.

“You know, I can tell you’re awake. I already said so,” the stranger says.

“Shut up, I’m trying to make you go away,” Joel says.

The stranger snorts. “What, you don’t want information on your two friends you apparently risked your life to save?”

Joel… would kind of like that information, actually, but he’s not just going to say so.

“It’s not like I know them. I’ve been here five days. Idiot,” Joel says.

“I don’t know. Seems a lot like you know them,” the stranger says. “You’ll probably get to know them even more soon, after we do an assessment to make sure it’s safe for you all to enter Altered Space. It’s just been me and Scar for so long, I didn’t think other Persona users would ever show up!”

“What,” Joel says. “I don’t believe in Personas. They’re stupid. I was lucid dreaming. This is stupid.”

“Can’t you still hear yours? I think I’d go insane if I stopped.”

Yes.

“No.”

“Well then, maybe you’re the weak one. A strong Persona user would definitely still hear their Persona,” the stranger says, and look man, Joel doesn’t want to be doing this, but he can’t let ‘maybe you’re the weak one’ stand. It’s a matter of honor. Of pride.

“No, buzz off. I’m the strong one. I didn’t just awaken Pygmalion, I kicked ass using Pygmalion. Stupid Skizz and Impulse passed out immediately. And I was the only one who knew how to get to Skizz so, so, screw you, I’m super strong with your fake brain ghost thing.”

The stranger is quiet for a long moment. “Did you say you knew how to get to Skizz?”

“Yeah you just follow the evil butterflies. You should know, since you’re crazy,” Joel says.

“Oh my god,” the stranger says. “Oh my god. This changes everything.”

Something sinks in Joel’s stomach. “Wait, what does that—”

“I have to go tell Mr. Hills. Meet us when you get out of here, a doctor should let you out once you’re awake! But I have to tell him! Being able to preemptively find entrances to Altered Space! Fighting off a shadow and rescuing people your first time summoning a Persona! Me and Scar won’t have to be alone anymore!”

“No, I, uh, was lying, stop that,” Joel says unconvincingly.

“See you!” the stranger says.

“You forgot to tell me what happened to Skizz,” Joel says, finally sitting up to try to stop the stranger, but it’s too late. He’s already gone. Joel stares blankly after the space where he’d once been.

“You also forgot to tell me your name, you moron,” Joel says weakly.

He buries his head in his hands, breathes, and calls the nurse. If his strange classmate isn’t going to tell him what’s actually happening, then Joel’s going to find out for himself.

(Power throbs beneath a scar on his hand. A voice whispers agreeing remarks in the back of his head. He has way too many aches and pangs for last night—or, well, however many nights ago it was now—to be fake. But for now, he just wants to know Skizz is okay and go back to his stupid apartment and pretend none of this happened. Is that too much to ask?)

#smallishsona au #a bee fic #joel smallishbeans #grian #(not named but he’s the other persona user here) #I have decided I am going to write various ficlets for this au. click on the au tag to go find the first few posts if you’re confused. #let’s get this thing started with: joel wakes up in the hospital after his first battle and IMMEDIATELY regrets everything

[jongseongsnudes]

what are friends for?

bff!sunghoon. 1.8k words. smut with a dom sunghoon.

it’s finally saturday night and after a dreadful week of classes and assignments, you were finally able to let loose and relax.

per usual, you found yourself in the dimly lit living room of some frat house, along with your best friends jay, jake, hee and sunghoon. all five of you are completely drunk off your asses (and partially high), laughing and retelling stories that happened during the week.

with your head literally spinning in circles, you lay onto jake’s shoulders to rest your eyes a little, hoping to sober up enough for a few more drinks. but even in your drunken state that you noticed something or should you say someone, staring at you from the side.

park sunghoon.

in fact, sunghoon had been eye fucking you the whole night. from the moment he and the boys arrived at your apartment for pre drinks, up until now, you swore you always felt his eyes glued on you. maybe it was your short outfit that caught his attention (hell, it caught everyone’s attention!) or perhaps he wanted something else.

and now that you were both shit faced, it seemed as though he also became bolder. the handsome man was now gawking over your body, his eyes plastered onto your bare legs that barely hid underneath your dress. if the other three boys weren’t so drunk, you’re sure they would’ve noticed the weird lingering tension by now.

“i need to pee, i’ll be right back...” you turn your head and whisper into jake’s ear. it’s not like you really needed to go, you just wanted to go get your head straight a little and perhaps away from sunghoon before you end up doing something you’ll regret.

“no way missy, you’re shit faced. i’m coming with you.”

“jake. mate. i’ll be fine-”

“i’ll take her,” sunghoon suddenly interrupts your little conversation, the man now standing right in front of you with his hand out, ready for you to grab.

you don’t even think about it and immediately hold onto his hand, allowing him to pull you to stand up against his body. your body is suddenly hot, sweat forming in your palms but it’s not because of the party or the alcohol.

it’s because of park sunghoon.

sunghoon wraps one arm protectively around your waist before guiding your weak body towards the bathroom, which was thankfully empty. you could feel your legs wanting to give out numerous times, thanks to your shitty tolerance and these high heels you swear you’ll throw away once you get home.

you were never one to wear heels but tonight you felt bold. it actually took the whole day to decide on your outfit, finally going for the one short dress you owned from years ago and a pair of heels you’ve never worn.

but what was the reason for the sudden change?

of course it’s because of the very person helping you to the bathroom right now.

“hey,” sunghoon’s low voice knocks you out of your daze, just for you to realise that you both were standing in front of the bathroom in the dark hallway, “need help?”

you sluggishly shake your head and take a step forward, only to lose your balance on your devil heels. but sunghoon is quick to act, instantly wrapping his arm around your waist from behind and pulling you back into him, your back hitting into his chest.

“maybe i do need help...” you whisper to him pleadingly, your tone oozing with desperation but you don’t even care at this point, “can you... help me sunghoon?”

“of course i can, princess.”

you gulp at the pet name, one he has never called you by.  jake was the only one in the friend group that called you a bunch of random pet names, love, angel, sweetie. on the rare occasion, jay or heeseung would call you sweetheart but never sunghoon. never.

and before you could respond, you were pulled into the bathroom. you’re now standing with your back pressed up against the door with park sunghoon towering over you, his hands gripped onto your waist and with that infamous smirk at the ends of his lips.

god that smirk always does things to you.

he doesn’t even give you time to speak before smashing his lips onto yours, kissing you with such urgency like he had waited to do this for a long time. the kiss is nothing but rough, your bottom lips instantly feel sore but you don’t want him to stop.

both of his hands are quick to make its way down to the back of your thighs, grabbing them to lift you up into his arms. he does this with such ease, his eyes and lips never once leaving yours.

the roughness of his clothes rubbing against your inner thighs and clothed core has you unknowingly whimpering, a sound you definitely knew he appreciated with the way he’s smiling so proudly into the kiss.

“sunghoon...” you’re already a mess at this point and the man had only kissed you. your arms are wrapped around his neck, clinging onto him for dear life, desperate for more. a lot more.

“princess you’re making it a lot harder for me to refrain myself.”

“from doing what?”

“from completely ruining you,” the boy presses his lips onto the side of your neck as he speaks, his tone so deep and husky that it sends shivers through your body. those words alone were enough to have you leaking through your panties, those words that you would’ve never expected to come from park sunghoon’s own lips.

you’ve always had a little, tiny crush on him. you remembered him walking through your apartment door the very first time, a year ago. at the time, you had invited your best friend, heeseung over for a chill movie night and surprisingly enough, the boy showed up with three of the hottest boys on campus. jay, jake and sunghoon.

and the five of you have been inseparable since, always hanging out after classes, going on impromptu road trips together and of course, partying together almost every weekend. it was always just fun and platonic, until you found yourself paying more attention to one of them in particular. park sunghoon. you would subconsciously wait around to talk to him more, sometimes you would accidentally graze your hand across his, other times you’d accidentally bump into his body.

but never in a million years did you expect tonight to happen, to have sunghoon all over you instead of other much hotter girls at the party. kissing you, holding you against his body like he only wanted you.

you let out a gasp when he suddenly sets you down onto a cold surface, which you assumed was the vanity. your legs are still wrapped tightly around his waist, further pulling him in against your core that yearned to be touched. it ached, begging to be played with, to have sunghoon work your pussy until you’re crying for him to stop.

your naughty fantasy only saved for the privacy of your bedroom was becoming all too real.

while his lips are working yours, one of his hand is now at your thigh, caressing the soft skin with his fingers. your entire body is burning, wanting nothing more than for sunghoon to take you in some frat house’s dingy bathroom. and sunghoon knew this very well, the smug grin on his face tells you that he’s pleased with your reaction to his touches.

“s- sunghoon...”

“you’re so fucking hot. i can’t believe i waited this long, i should’ve fucked you that first night at your apartment. in your cute little pink pyjamas, god i want to fuck you in that.”

before your hazy mind could even wrap around his words, you felt his hand in between your legs, his thumb pressing against your clothed pussy. the man yanks the thin piece of material aside without hesitation, easily pushing two fingers into you with how wet you already were for him.

whimpers and groans fill the bathroom as sunghoon’s lips move down the side of your neck, leaving behind a trail of marks you know will get you questioned by your other best friends tomorrow. but that was a problem for tomorrow. all you could think about right now was how good it felt to have him manhandle you without care, to have him be so rough with your body.

you naturally throw your head back against the mirror when his fingers push even deeper into you, much to the man’s liking. how someone could do so much with just two fingers, you don’t even know but sunghoon was definitely an expert.

“you must cum to thoughts of me fucking this pussy every night, right princess? you’re definitely not as innocent as heeseung says you are.”

gulp.

you’re definitely embarrassed by his words, being exposed so blatantly by the one person you hoped would never find out. but it’s not like it wasn’t true, hell you had even touched yourself to the thoughts of sunghoon just this afternoon.

“sunghoon... please-” sounds you didn’t even know you could even make are pouring from your lips as the man continues roughly working your pussy, his pace only increasing to the call of his name.

“if you’re like this with my fingers, how will you take my dick?” you could hear the smirk in his voice, his tone playful with a hint of dominance. your head is spinning, your eyes completely shut from how good it feels with the addition of his thumb rubbing your clit.

his lips, his dirty words and his fingers prove to be too much for you to handle because it’s not long before you feel the familiar knot in your stomach.

“sunghoon i’m- i’m almost...”

“you’re gonna cum for me? all on my fingers?” his low chuckle in your ear has your fingers gripping his shoulders even tighter, almost clawing at his skin now but the man doesn’t seem to care, “look at you. you’re such a good girl for me.”

his thumb pressing down on your clit and his fingers curling deep inside of you is what finally brings you over the edge. your body is shaking from the sudden intense feeling of so many different emotions, a feeling you haven’t felt in such a long time. it’s one that has you seeing stars, one you definitely don’t mind having again with the help of your best friend.

“you okay?”

“yeah...” your voice was barely audible, almost in whispers as you lay your head onto his shoulder, allowing your body to relax after all that. 

“well it’s your turn princess,” he says with a devious smile, his lips now hovering just above the tip of your ear as his hand reaches for the back of your neck, gripping it harshly. the surprised gasp you make causes him to laugh, his hard on that’s grinding against your thigh twitches a little too obviously, as if pleased with your reaction, “cause what are friends for, right?” 

2023 © jongseongsnudes on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST.

#jongseongsnudes #the good girl series #?? #lol it's slowly turning into a series #enhypen #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fic #enhypen smut #enhypen scenario #enhypen imagine #enhypen x reader #enhypen hard hours #enhypen drabble #enhypen sunghoon #park sunghoon fanfic #park sunghoon fic #park sunghoon smut #park sunghoon drabble #park sunghoon imagine #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon smut #sunghoon hard hours #sunghoon fanfic #sunghoon fic #sunghoon imagine

[steddiealltheway]

Part Five of Six of Meddling ;) Part One. Two. Three. Four. Ao3 Link.

The whole ride home, Steve holds Eddie’s hand and keeps muffling his laughter whenever Eddie catches him staring. They’re definitely not acting their age, but love does crazy things to Steve. 

He eventually gets a bit distracted when they all start arguing about what movie they should watch that night. They settle on letting whoever plays the most convincing part in the trail run dinner pick the movie. 

When they get to the parking lot, Robin and Nancy tell them to go up first, so they can pretend that Robin is going downstairs to get Veronica and bring her up. 

Steve races up the stairs with Eddie and shouts, “I vote they walk in on us making out!” 

Eddie cackles. 

Honestly, Steve doesn’t want to pick the movie, but he is going to pretend as hard as he can that he wants to. 

He drops his keys twice in excitement, and Eddie ends up picking them up, saying, “Let me do it.” Which results in way more time lost until Steve finally points out the right key and they get in the door. 

Eddie looks back at it and asks, “Steve, do you remember anyone locking that?” 

He doesn’t. He glances around and sees that everything is fine and in place and shrugs. “Not important,” Steve declares. “Kiss me.” 

Eddie laughs and fulfills Steve’s request. Laughing as they clumsily make their way to the couch while refusing to keep their lips off each other to scar Robin and Nancy forever for making them go through with this plan. 

Before they can appear in a terribly compromising position, the door swings open. 

“Oh, gross! This is not how I wanted you to meet my girlfriend,” Robin shrieks. 

Nancy glances at her in confusion. “We’re not actually doing this right now, right?” 

Strike one for Wheeler. No more movie choice privileges. 

Eddie gets up from the couch and slings his arm around Steve to drag him to the door. He holds his hand out to Nancy. “Eddie Munson, Steve’s wonderful boyfriend you’ve heard all about.” 

Nancy shakes his hand and turns to Steve. “And you must be Steve.” 

Steve just smiles and nods, trying not to show how damn weird this all feels. It’s like he entered some sort of improv club or something. Now that he thinks about it... Robin and Eddie both did theatre in high school... 

Steve raises his hands to make a “T” shape. “Time out,” he calls. “I-I forgot to change into the sweater-” 

“Which is non-negotiable,” Eddie interjects with a smile. 

“Why don’t we just move to the table and have Nancy drill us with questions next? I really don’t want to act out all these introductions to the point that we start miming eating food or something.” 

Robin crosses her arms and glares at Steve. “Fine, but I’m adding a tally to revoke movie picking privileges!” 

Steve waves her off as he hurries to his room. He closes the door behind him and takes a second to breathe. Today has been... a lot. And it’s going to be a lot more when Steve finally sucks it up and drags Eddie to his room to talk about what’s going on between them. 

First, he just has to go through the motions of being Eddie’s boyfriend. Which isn’t too hard. And definitely not something he dreads. But he wants the whole charade to be up so it can finally be real. 

He tugs the sweater on, thankful that he left it on his bed when he realizes... he and Eddie didn’t change a single time they went out. In fact, their clothes are still in the trunk with their prizes. 

Luckily, if this goes as well as Steve expects, they can take several new pictures on their real dates together to show Veronica. Or maybe she’ll overlook that they happened to wear the same outfits to the fair and lunch out. 

Either way, he’s going to be happy to show off his boyfriend to someone, so much so that he almost looks forward to meeting her now. 

There’s a knock on his door. 

Steve opens it quickly and smiles at Eddie on the other side. But his smile fades quickly when he sees the look on Eddie’s face. “Everything okay?” Steve asks tentatively. What could’ve happened in the small amount of time he was gone? 

Eddie nods but doesn’t even look at him. Just hands him his phone and says, “I forgot I had this.” 

“Thanks,” Steve says as he takes it and pockets it. He leans against his doorframe. “Seriously, Eddie, did something happen?” 

Eddie looks at the ground and shakes his head. He looks Steve in the eye and gives him a tight smile. “Nah, man. Let’s just get this over with.” 

Get this over with? Since when is Eddie so put out by the idea of fake dating him? 

Steve follows Eddie to the table and puts an arm around him as they sit down, but Eddie tenses up. So, he moves his arm slightly back to rest on the chair instead. He tries to catch Eddie’s attention by staring at him, but he won’t spare Steve a single glance. 

Nancy looks back and forth between the two and narrows her eyes, seeing something is off but not confronting it. “Are you two ready for the questions?” she asks. 

Steve looks at Eddie who quickly nods, so he nods as well. They need to get this over with quickly so they can talk.  

“Great. So, how did you two meet?” 

“Steve, do you want to take this one?” Eddie asks, fidgeting with his rings. 

“Yeah,” Steve replies without thought because he’d do anything for Eddie. He pauses to think a moment and smiles at the memory. “We met in a bar. I went because the girl I was with recommended it. But then, I saw Eddie performing during their open mic night, and I just couldn’t look away. I introduced myself to him as soon as I could, and we hit it off immediately. In fact, it wasn’t long before we both realized that we knew Dustin, our younger friend who had been trying to get me to meet Eddie for months before that moment. And it just all kind of felt like fate.” 

Robin shares a look with Steve. He knows that she remembers the exact night that he had met Eddie because he had gushed about him as soon as he got home. Robin had confronted him about the obvious crush Steve had on him, but he brushed it off because he didn’t want Dustin to kill him. Plus, he hadn’t felt that way after meeting anyone for the first time before, and he didn’t know what to make of it. 

“Dustin almost killed us when he found out we had met without him being there,” Eddie adds emotionless, still fidgeting with his rings while staring off into space. “We both called it fate so he couldn’t argue with us.” 

“That’s sweet,” Nancy coos as if she’s actually hearing all of this for the first time which... maybe she is. Steve had only reconnected with her about two years ago, and after he introduced her to Robin, she just kind of stuck around. He’s not sure if anyone filled her in on how Eddie became a part of the original trio. “Now, tell me when you first knew you were in love.” 

“Jesus H. Christ,” Eddie mutters and runs a hand over his face. 

Steve puts a comforting hand on his thigh and takes the question again, hoping it’ll be the last one, “It hit me way later than it should’ve. I always knew it was there deep down, but then it randomly came out when I was talking to Robin.” He is not supposed to be telling the truth right now. 

Eddie’s hand slides down to hit the table a little too harshly which causes everyone to jump. “Do you really want to know when I fell in love with Steve?” He leans forward on the table toward the girls as if he’s about to launch into a campaign with fantastical, unbelievable stories. And that’s exactly what Steve thinks when Eddie says, “For me, it was love at first sight.” 

Steve swallows hard as he waits for the rest of the tale to come together. 

“As soon as I saw him, I thought he was too good to be true. He was kind, hot, funny, and he noticed me. And no one’s really done that before. So, I thought, this is it, this is the one,” Eddie leans back and laughs. “Then then bimbo Barbie came into the picture, and I realized I wasn’t enough for him. But then, she was seemingly gone, and I fell even harder because Steve’s Steve, you know? And you can’t help but fall in love with him. But bam. Another girl pops up. Then a guy. And a girl, and a guy, and a guy, and a girl, and a they, and a them, and. Bam!” 

Once again, everyone startles as Eddie slams his hands down on the table. 

“There’s little ol’ me. Pining from afar knowing that my dreams of having Steve will never come true,” he finishes with a humorless laugh and throws out his arms. “So, there you have it. I’ve been in love with him for as long as I’ve known him.” 

The room stays silent for a few moments. 

Everything is wrong. Everything is off. 

Eddie isn’t looking at him still, and Steve doesn’t know what he managed to do to mess things up already. This is why he never wanted to get involved. He didn’t want to end up in this. 

“So, when did you two get together?” Robin questions this time, awkwardly breaking the tense silence. 

“Two years ago,” Steve answers quietly.  

And this is what really sets things off for Eddie. He stands up and shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Robin, but I can’t do this.” 

No one has time to respond before Eddie is already out the door. 

Nancy and Robin turn to Steve with accusatory looks as soon as the door slams shut. 

“I don’t know what I did!” Steve yells before they can accuse him of anything. “I don’t know what I did,” he says again as he puts his head in his hands. 

What did he do? 

“Steve, what did Eddie say to you earlier after you changed into the sweater? Everything seemed to shift after that,” Nancy says. 

He digs in his memory. “I don’t know. He was in a weird mood as soon as I opened the door. He just handed me my phone and lied about being okay. Shit, I should’ve pulled him aside at literally any point today to-”

“Wait,” Robin says. Nancy and Steve both look at her as she pauses in thought. Steve’s about to tell her to just spit it out when she finally asks, “Steve, did you look at your phone when Eddie handed it to you?” 

Steve shrugs. “I don’t think so.” 

Nancy’s face lights up in realization. “And you don’t have any of your notifications hidden, so Eddie may have seen something before he gave it to you.” 

Oh, shit. Steve hurries to dig his phone out of his pocket and puts it flat on the table so everyone can see it. As soon as he taps the screen, they all see the problem. 

Jordan 

I miss you xoxo. Come over soon so you can help me break in the new mattress babylove ;)  

Robin gags. “Who the hell uses babylove?” 

Nancy shrugs. “I think it’s kinda cute.” 

Steve ignores them as he runs a hand through his hair. This isn’t good. This really isn’t good. Shit, and they just had the conversation asking if they were seeing anyone, and Eddie probably thinks he lied to him. Shit. 

“Who’s Jordan?” Robin asks suddenly. 

Steve groans. “The girl I hooked up with three weeks ago.” 

“The reason you kicked me out of the apartment??” Robin yells. 

Steve groans again. This cannot be happening to him. 

“Come on,” Nancy says with a laugh, “That whole situation is literally the reason we got together, babylove.” 

Robin flushes red and says, “I can slightly see the appeal, but that’s only because this is very new and-” 

“Wait, what?” Steve asks. What the hell is happening? 

Robin gives him a really guilty look and bursts out, “I was trying to tell you earlier today at the fair! I’ve felt so bad about this whole plan and lying to you, but I didn’t want to tell you until Nancy and I put a label on things and-” 

“So, who is Veronica?” Steve asks slowly. 

Nancy answers hesitantly, “Someone we made up so we could go through with this plan of trying to get you and Eddie together. Honestly, we didn’t think things would blow up between you guys, and we certainly didn’t think we’d end up dating each other because of this.” 

“You’re dating??” Steve asks, hearing the pitch and volume of his voice go up. 

“Nancy asked me to be her girlfriend during lunch today. That’s why I was rambling so much in the car.” 

It all hits Steve, and suddenly everything makes sense. 

He puts his hands on his hips and takes a deep breath. “I’m really happy for you guys, but I’m just as equally pissed at you guys.” 

“Yeah, that’s understandable,” Nancy replies with an apologetic smile. 

“We’ll talk about all this later, but right now, I need to find Eddie. Do either of you know where the hell he could be?” Steve asks. 

“His apartment?” Robin supplies. 

Nancy shrugs then her eyes get wide. “Steve, you and Eddie share each other’s location right?” 

“Yeah, why?” Steve asks. Nancy sighs and gestures to his phone. Oh. OH. “Nancy, you’re a genius, but I still hate you both.” 

“Just go get your man,” Robin says with a laugh as she shoves him out the door. 

“I’ll try!” Steve says. 

And after all their meddling, he hopes that he’ll somehow still be able to. 

Part six

Tag List <3:

@henderdads @little-gae-shit @dreamingtheimpossibe @leethegay @lazyavenuewhispers @olibxr @thegayestpersonever @heartsforhawke @estrellami-1 @messrs-weasley @evillitteguy @miss-hit @infrogulous @romanticdestruction @liz5100 @evix-syne666 @bebe07011 @corrodedseraphine @meganwinchester @manda-panda-monium @heartdinosblog @ellietheasexylibrarian @newtstabber @irregular-child @turboprops69 @envyadams-vs-me @dude-as-in-i-love-u @slv-333 @jillfriend @goodolefashionedloverboi @steady-delusional-moonlover @scheodingers-muppet @sleepyboosstuff @cyranyx @bestwifehaver @marvel-ous-m

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie fanfic #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #i'm actually heartbroken about this almost being over

[moonstruckme]

So, I know you don't commonly really write for steddie, and you don't have to write this if you don't wanna. But what about Like, reader graduates hawkins high and goes of to college (eddie is probably still held back for his last year???) And when she left she was more on the quite side, soft color pallet, kinda stariotypical pastel sunshine character. And she comes back for the summer and she's like, more punk-ish??? Like a few more piercings, and same kinda quite personality but kinda different aesthetic?

I think you could do something similar with poly!marauders as well, where same thing happens but it's over the summer between years?

Idk, you dont even have to write it, I just have a stupid soft spot for this weird trope/character arc. Make sure to take care of yourself and have a lovely day!!!!!

I'm happy to write for any characters on my list, thanks for requesting gorgeous! Hope you're having a lovely day and taking care of yourself as well <3

Steddie x fem!reader ♡ 637 words

Steve and Eddie are scanning the crowd for you up until the very moment you come up to them. Even then, it takes Eddie a second to recognize you. 

“Hey,” you say, tentative. 

“Hey,” Steve says, stepping forward. “Shit, honey, come here.” 

You grin, some of the apprehension easing from your features as you hug him. 

“Shit,” Eddie agrees, wrapping his arms around the both of you. “Almost didn’t recognize you, sunshine.” 

Sunshine might not even be the best nickname for you now. When you’d left for college last fall, you’d looked like the rainbow had befriended you personally. All pastels, colorful sweaters and flowy little skirts. Now, it’s like you’ve been plucked from a graphic novel. Your clothes are dark down to the shoes, with ripped black tights under your shorts and lace-up combat boots that, frankly, Eddie thinks might get a little hot in the Indiana summer. He wonders if you’d be amenable to him calling you his little bat. Or witchling, maybe? He’ll have to workshop it. 

“You look so different.” Steve sounds positively flabbergasted, stepping back to take you in more fully. “I mean, not a bad different, I just—wow, it’s really…” Eddie snickers. In his opinion, you look far less like someone Steve Harrington would ordinarily date (the girl next door, preppy style, Nancy Wheeler clone) and more like someone he would (cool as fuck). Luckily for you, they both love you down to your ooey gooey core no matter how you present yourself. 

“It’s a new look, babe, and it’s fucking sick,” Eddie summarizes. “Is this what college does to people? Maybe I should come visit.” 

You roll your eyes at him, flushing faintly. Another pro of your new style: the pink of your face stands out ever-so-much-more brilliantly against your new dark palate. 

“I’m serious, sweetheart,” Eddie goes on, delighting in watching your color change. “I need you to start coming to my shows so we can lure in your crowd. You’re too fucking cool for us now.” 

Your shoulders start to come up around your ears, but Steve saves you, tucking you under his arm with a kiss to the top of your head. “She was always too cool for us,” he says. It’s the truth, and Eddie sends you a wink to make sure you know he knows it. “You look amazing, really. God, we’ve missed you so—is that a tattoo?”

Eddie all but lunges for you. “Where?” 

“Here,” Steve says, stretching the collar of your shirt over your shoulder, where an inky design sits starkly against your skin. “Shit, this is so cool.” Eddie jostles for space, head squishing between yours and Steve’s to get a better look. “It really works for you.” 

You smile bashfully. “Thanks.” 

“Fuck me,” Eddie breathes, and you shiver pleasantly as his breath his your shoulder. “Actually, if I can get us to Steve’s in five minutes, would you top me right now? This is too fucking hot—oh, don’t look at me like that, Stevie boy. You know you like it too.” 

“I do,” Steve says, giving Eddie a look that’s probably aiming for stern but only hitting fond as he tries to coax your face from his chest. “It looks great honey, when did you get this?”

Your voice is characteristically quiet, but a bit proud, when you say, “That one’s from a couple months ago. I got my first last November, though.”

“Your first?” Eddie’s gobsmacked. “How many are there? Wait, no, don’t tell me.” He grabs you by the legs, hoisting you over his shoulder. “I wanna find ‘em.” 

“Eds, put me down!” You hiss in his ear, but your words are undercut by giggles. “Steve!”

“Sorry, but I’m kinda on board with this one,” Steve says with an apologetic shrug in your direction. He tosses Eddie the keys. 

#steddie #steddie x reader #steve x eddie x reader #steve harrington x eddie munson x reader #steddie x fem!reader #steddie x you #steddie x y/n #steddie fanfiction #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #steddie imagine #steddie drabble #steddie oneshot #steddie scenario #steddie fluff #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fandom

[suhmingo]

I, uh, don’t know how to actually preface this. It’s really just a mini rant/pseudo-analysis of chapter 167. Which was pretty crazy. But, I loved this chapter, and yes I’m typing this with two hands.

But first let me try and do some housekeeping.

It’s perfectly fine to have an emotional, even visceral reaction to 167. That’s the point

If you feel grossed out, betrayed, unnerved, dumbstruck, or any form of bamboozled by today’s chapter then good! That means the emotional weight of the scene is working, and that you are a proper, feeling human. The

The whole point of fiction is to explore themes that would be difficult, even dangerous to experience from a place of safety. To me that’s, like the entire reason I ever wanted to become a writer, one of the most unsung broke boy jobs in the history of the world. My desire for Denji to get better in a world that is dead set on making him fail is the entire reason I have an emotional investment in the first place. Stories are inherently about conflict and the struggle with resolving conflict, that should make you uncomfortable.

Say what you want about Chainsaw Man. I can take it, I’m a big boy. But one thing that it has always had since Chapter one is a well-defined through line about the complexity of our innate desire to find some type of love fighting against the pain-wrought pathway that it leads us down. In a good story, every chapter should have some way of showing the highs and lows of that theme, and I’m pretty confident when I say that 167 perfectly shows us that.

It’s bad. Don’t let people who brag about their trauma tolerance tell you otherwise. You are well within your right to feel. But I think it would behoove people to 1. Realize that this is fiction, and its effects, though evocatory, are ultimately abstract, and 2. Realize that exploring dark themes allows people, especially a 16-25 (Or whatever the target audience for CSM is) to grapple with and think on human concepts as all encompassing as love.

From a writing standpoint, one chapter has escalated the tension of the entire story more than anything that has happened in Part 2 so far. It’s admittedly a bit early to call it peak. But looking at it as a simple story beat, that’s a fantastic chapter as far as the medium goes.

Listen, the whole point of stories since, like, Mesopotamian times was the tension between wanting a character to achieve happiness vs the hardships and trauma that life happens in life. They’re supposed to put you in a sensitive state emulative of a tense environment. I’d argue that the prevalence of escapist fiction and fandom has changed how we emotionally digest fiction. But that’s a whole nother essay.

The events of 167 aren’t some horny non-sequitur. Everything that happened is entirely a logical, if graven, extension of how we know characters.

Denji is at the lowest point we have ever seen him at. He was literally dismembered and put back together less than 10 chapters ago. The last chapter literally had him groveling on his knees at a cauldron’s brew of his own weakness, immaturity, stupidity, and horniness. I think we can all understand why he would not be in a good mental state to just lose himself in the moment. You can’t even blame Denji in this situation. He was in an entirely vulnerable state that was exploited entirely by

Yoru. Who is the literal embodiment of war. If you think that someone who represents the human fear of war is going to play fair. Turn on the news for five minutes. Yoru is a character we are not supposed to like. She’s fun, because she’s a work of fiction, but she’s arguably less trustworthy than Fami. She’s a violent, exploitative being who possesses a dead teenager. There is no “too far” for her if it’s the fastest way on the road to conquest. Reminder that before she caught feelings, her plan was literally just to castrate Denji because she thought that would further her goals. The fact that it turned into kissing was actually sparing a worse fate. IMO that savior was all in the actions of Asa.

Asa. I genuinely believe that, subconsciously, Asa wanted to kiss Chainsaw Man. Not like how it happened. Never like how it happened, but her desire for Denji/Chainsaw Man's affection has always been evident. She gets irreparably upset when she’s stood up, she makes cringe poetry for Chainsaw Man, and her entire goal as of now is in some misguided desire to make him happy. I also don’t think Asa is actually demisexual, or averse to sex. She is afraid of intimacy, which stops her from ever acting on her urges. Notice that both times Yoru has kissed Denji, it was after the idea of sex and intimacy was explicitly brought to the conversation. To me that screams that Yoru is spurred on by her host’s innate desires. Hell, it’s been shown that in the same way that Yoru has made Asa more proactive of a human being, Asa has made her feel emotions. I don’t think it's a coincidence that Yoru is blushing while kissing Denji. None of that was part of her plan. That’s Asa’s emotional influence getting the better of her in what I predict to be a fantastic role reversal of their initial contract.

This is thematically in line with how Chainsaw Man presents love and sets up deeper themes.



Remember way back in Part One when Denji was just an initial horndog and everybody kinda hated him? I hated Denji back then! When I first heard of Chainsaw Man I genuinely thought it was going to be a mommy-kink fuelled power fantasy. But I was wrong. Wonderfully wrong. Fujimoto used the allure of that idea in Makima to present a story about how dangerous and manipulative the very idea of grooming is, and how damaging that can be to a person. The same way Denji’s desire to get the approval of Makima was poisonous to him is mirrored in his desire for vapid, instantly gratifying sex is being portrayed here. I genuinely think this chapter is going to age like fine wine, and I am absolutely willing to take egg on my face if I’m wrong.

#chainsaw man #csm 167

[twelvegods]

brutal. kageyama tobio

the sour collective; ❝where's my fucking teenage dream?❞

pairing/s; kageyama tobio x fem!reader

warning/s; none

word count; 815

summary; confess, they said. date the king, they said. he’d treat you better, they said. but no one told you it was going to be this brutal.

a/n; this one’s pretty short since i’m coming back from a very long hiatus and am v v rusty and didn’t really know where i should take this so i stuck as close to the premise as i could and found myself here. let me know ur thoughts!!

“listen to this shit someone tagged me in; ‘isn’t it practically confirmed that [y/l/n] actually got to play for the red rabbits by slutting it up with kageyama?’” amanai kanoka read out loud some tweet on her phone.

the hikari pharmaceutical red rabbits were all gathered in the locker room at five in the morning to prepare for this morning’s training session and you’d just clocked in after a tiny squabble with your boyfriend over breakfast. amanai looked up at your scowling expression as you changed out of your attire and into the team uniform.

“can’t believe you’re still getting hate, hasn’t it been a few months already?” she took a few sips from her water bottle.

“if i knew this would happen, i wouldn’t have talked tobio into going public.” you sighed, clicking your locker closed.

hirugami shoko glanced over amanai’s shoulder to peer at the screen of her phone, frowning. “they clearly don’t know what they’re talking about, [y/n]. don’t listen to them.”

that was easier said than done.

you wanted to say you expected this, that you knew what you were signing up for when you and kageyama mutually agreed to go public after dating for some odd three years. prior to that, you pined after one another in high school, but ultimately thought it best to avoid a steady relationship, keeping in mind that you both wanted to put your careers first.

but you hadn’t anticipated the onslaught of hate and complete carnage when that stupid post took to the internet, not knowing your little instagram story had the biggest snowball effect.

it suddenly felt like you were placed under a microscope and that the public assumed the right to pick you, and your relationship, apart. at first, you couldn’t give two shits about what they were saying online, that it only mattered that you and kageyama were happy and not at the expense of anyone else's happiness. but as the months went by, all those comments were starting to get to you and doubts began to arise.

it didn’t help that kageyama didn’t seem to care, he had never even bothered to bring it up after that first month of announcing your relationship. you have never felt smaller in your life, thinking that he found your relationship insignificant.

“you have to say something!” you pushed, your arms tight around your torso. “you wanted to go public and they’re degrading me, tobio!”

he rubbed the bridge of his nose, putting down his chopsticks as he calmly assessed the dinner you pushed away. “it’ll die down in a few days, you know they always find something else to talk about eventually. don’t take it to heart, [y/n].”

“and you’re not even going to bother defending me?” you scoffed, pushing back your chair as you didn’t have it in you to finish the rest of your meal.

“why should i defend you towards people that don’t matter?” his cold blue eyes flicked up to meet yours as you retreated from the dining area.

you had to avert your eyes. “god, why don’t you get it, tobio?”

“stop being so sensitive, [y/n].”

and just like that, he picked up his chopsticks and resumed his dinner, the conversation over.

these days you couldn’t help but think that your love for one another was dwindling, because even the one you thought would be by your side was also picking apart each and everything you did with a touch of hostility. and so that night as you lay in bed with your back turned towards your lover, you gave in to temptation and opened twitter, beginning to scroll through your feed and mentions.

‘kageyama deserves better than some fame whore’

‘pretty sure [y/l/n]’s only after his money’

‘he doesn’t even look happy when they’re together? #freekageyama’

‘this is just another pr stunt! they’ll break up sooner or later after [y/l/n] leeches enough of his money’

apparently, not only was there a hashtag trending due to the public being completely against your relationship, but not even a single tweet was in your favor. before you knew it, tears had welled up in your eyes as insecurity gripped your heart.

you turned to face the love of your life, tracing whatever of his features you could see in the dim lighting of your shared bedroom.

“hey, tobio?” you whispered, not sure if you were really expecting, or wanted, a response. “do you hate me?”

the silence seemed to stretch on forever.

his eyes remained closed shut, an ethereal look on his face as he went on sleeping, not knowing you were falling apart right next to him. you choked on your tears, turning towards the ceiling and willing yourself to rest, allowing your breathing to calm down and labor out, before finally feeling yourself begin to drift away.

but not before kageyama muttered something under his breath that you had no energy to decipher. “...you.”

what am i even doing here? you thought, just before a dreamless sleep held you in a comforting grip.

tags; @hanayanetwork @planetonet @anime-central-archived @hqintheclub @tahonet

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu one shot #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu smut #kageyama tobio imagines #kageyama tobio one shot #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama tobio x you #kageyama tobio angst #kageyama tobio fluff #kageyama tobio smut #mine* #hanaya network #planeto🪐 #anime-central #hqintheclub #tahonet

[nerdieforpedro]

Watch me and Touch it Querida

Santiago "Pope" Garcia x plus size female reader

Fanfiction is 18+ MDNI

Main Masterlist / Santiago Garcia Masterlist / Oscar Isaac Masterlist

Word Count: 4.4k

Summary: You have a crush on your long time friend Santiago. After the events of Columbia, he stays in your spare bedroom. You two make good roommates. Pope decides to ask you a question that you thought was just a throwaway. Turns out he was serious.

Warnings: Teasing, Hair worship (is this a thing? I guess it is now 👀), oral sex (female receiving), fingering (female receiving), unprotected P in V (wrap them thangs up), cockwarming, aftercare, bad jokes throughout (another Nerdie staple)

Notes: My first Santiago smut! I think I captured his essence. Maybe, Ya'll will have to let me know. Also, I apologize to anyone who actually plays guitar, I just looked up what Google said were the four basic chords.

The first clue should have been that he asked to stay with you. He had three other men, his brothers, that he could have stayed with. Especially since they don't talk about whatever happened last month. Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia is a flirt of a man, has been since you’ve known him. You pay him no mind, his little compliments don’t phase you - much. He would call and text you in between deployments and later when he was out of the military. He’d also call when he was in the States or overseas consulting. Just checking in on you, he would normally lead with asking about how you were doing. Your mind constantly told you it’s the kind of thing he would do with  the guys except they likely have private jokes. Your heart tells you it might be more, but your mind usually wins with reasoning.

Him moving in went fine. Pope didn’t have much with him. A few duffle bags and a backpack. He took up your second bedroom and things were easy. Just fine. They guys joked that you two should have been roommates years ago since you got along so well. They’re not wrong, you just still need him to move out. Which is impossible to ask considering one of his friends just died on their trip, none of them will say how and even though they all still get along, neither Frankie, Will or Benny will let Pope stay with them. Suspicion is high that there’s some lingering resentment there, but it’s not your place to ask. You weren’t there. You don’t know and you’re not going to.

You haven’t seen any odd habits so far. He cleans up after himself, cooks every once in a while. No women have been in your guest room that you know of and you never want to know if they have. The conversations flow easily and he plays his guitar sometimes, letting you sit on his bed next to him while he plays different chords. Strong hands alternate between picking at the strings and strumming them, Santi softly hums a tune you’re not familiar with.  There was a Die Hard marathon you both watched together the other day. No red flags….which should have been red flag two for you.

He’s your friend. Almost a brother to you. You can’t be looking at how his polo shirts cinch around his waist and slight tummy or how they’re struggling with every thread on those biceps of his. The man has a million watt smile with curls to match, a dangerous five o’clock shadow, plush lips and warm chocolate eyes that focus on you when you speak. When he calls your name, you always exhale, it sounds perfect out of his mouth. Your thoughts haven’t even broached his thighs or that perfect curve he calls an ass when he asks you out of the blue. You’re minding your own business on the couch reading a book. Lying to yourself that you’re going to do less screen time this year.

“You think I should grow it out? I’ve always shaved it.” How long had he been thinking about this? Wait…shave what? Not his head right?! Not those curls. Curls that you’d snuck your hands in only a handful of times copying a noogie that Benny would do and only when the others were around. So silky with a touch of gray….He had asked a question. About his hair, shaving it…

“Santiago. Please don’t shave your head.” You pleaded, harder than you meant it to come out, but you were serious. It warranted your book closing and to look up at him. Why did he have to stand in front of you like that? Sure most people do that, but it’s not okay when he does it. You’re aware of this and the fact that you still haven’t told this man to move in with one of his brothers means you’re the  third red flag. At some point, you became okay with the idea of throwing away your friendship with Santiago. Oolging him when he’s not aware and looking forward when he’s away for a few days so you can think more about his merits and assets. Possibly with a few handheld aides.

He laughed at you and sat down on the couch. “No tonta (silly). Grow a beard. My facial hair grows pretty fast anyway. What do you think? You like facial hair on your men angel?” His shoulder nudged your arm. You chuckled at the thought that he joked about you having men. Pfft. Shaking your head, you playfully swatted his cheek, his rough stubble grazing your fingers. You made sure your hand came down to your knee, the desire to keep in on his face was too strong in the moment. 

“I think you could pull off a beard. You already have stubble half the time. Just don’t let it look raggedy Santi.” You smiled, trying to picture it. The most facial hair you’d seen him with was a mustache in pictures before Delta Force and he looked like a porn star. Hell he looked like one now. You need to stay focused, you’re having a conversation. If he did have one of those nice, maintained beards though…he might turn into an evil villain. They usually had some cool beards before getting thwarted by heroes. His grin at your very apparent compliment and distraction makes you lose the little focus you did have.

“Glad you believe in me. You didn’t answer my other question though.” Squinting your eyes, you’re confused for maybe the third time tonight. “Do you like facial hair on men or do you like them clean shaven?” He leaned in, very clearly expecting an answer. 

Frazzled, your answer matched your current state of mind, “I mean, more hair is always better than less hair. I love some friction, you know I’m used to it because of my thighs but that’s…it’s gotta be a different kinda of sensation when someone's doing it right and has a solid beard…” His wide eyes told you that you’d said too much. Way too much. You stood up and mumbled goodnight, cursing yourself and hoping that maybe he had another overseas contract soon. He grabbed your wrist  and stood with you.

“Is that what you like angel? Something for a different type of friction? Good to know. I take it you haven’t had that from what you said though. Sweet dreams cariño (dear).” Santiago said as he released your wrist. He knew damn well you weren’t going to sleep tonight and you didn’t. The next few days, he didn’t mention it and when you two met up with the guys and their girlfriends, he didn’t mention anything then either. By next week, you were sure it had blown over and he left saying he was going to be gone for two months. That was plenty of time to forget your mistake right?

The time came and went fast. Santiago was back…with a damn beard. It was black with gray strands at its edges. Letting his lips peek out from the oval of hair that formed around them. You looked, then turned and snuck another look. Angry that you did. Maybe he would shave once he got settled in. He greeted you with a hug, nuzzling his nose and jaw on your neck as he embraced you. You wanted to slap him for testing you, but maybe he didn’t remember, you also wanted to touch his face and kiss him to feel the hair on your face. Gazing up at him, his curls had grown out a bit more as well, more pronounced and larger. Pope said he was going to go take a shower and frankly, you felt you could use one too. Get these ideas out of your head. 

The first week is fine. A good amount of time spent with the guys both at bars, their places and in your apartment. The second week however was the kicker - Santiago had gotten some beard oil that smelled of cedar, jasmine and a hint of vanilla. You were thankful that Will wanted Santi to tag along with him this week for more motivational speaking engagements. Pope was out of the house and away from you smelling that damn delicious. 

As it was past 9pm on a Thursday, you were already in your oversized sleep shirt and panties. Not sexy at all. Not that you needed to be, you’re dancing around in your apartment. It’s something you haven’t done too much except when Santi’s out of town. It helped calm you and you could focus on the music and not your various worries, especially your thoughts about your roommate. 

Santiago unlocked the door to your apartment. He walked in and saw you in the living room. Swinging your hips, arms above your head. What should come on next but “Worth the Wait” by Kali Uchis & Omar Apollo. You’re singing along and moving with the music, it wouldn’t hurt to dance with you right? It’s not like he hasn’t danced with you around your home before, though that was usually to some boy bands that you would play because you knew he hated them. He took hold of your hands and interlocked his fingers with yours, his gaze on your surprised face as you stopped moving, but he brought one of your hands down and patted your hip to encourage you to continue to dance. The song is slow and the content is rather sensual. “Keep dancing cariño. With me.” Is the only thing he said as you two moved, your chests mere inches away from each other. He released your hands and placed them on your hips and yours immediately went to his beard. You figured if he’s going to dance with you like this, you may as well touch it. He let out a deep chuckle, leaning forward. Santi pressed his warm chest against yours, he spoke in your ear, “You like it, touch is querida (sweetheart)? I grew it just for you.” 

Your breath hitched when he said your name in your ear and his hands that had been on your hips, roamed your back. “Y-You did Santi? You didn’t have to…I..” His large hand ran up your neck and cupped the back of your head as he sang along to Kali’s next song “All Mine.” Your hands fell to his sides, pressing into his skin, kneading it. It would be embarrassing how moist your panties had become and that your nipples were hard as little pebbles if you didn’t feel the need to jump this man, but dancing is sweet and nice.

We’ll figure it out as we go, just you and me

But we won’t leave each other alone, that’s all mine

All me, all me All mine, All mine, all mio, mio, mi

All mine, all mine, all mio, mio, mi

Both of you continued to rock side to side until the song ended and Santiago stood to his full height. You wondered if maybe you’d gotten too lost in the music and had imagined everything. You hadn’t let go of him yet, if you weren’t hallucinating then that meant this just happened and maybe you could act on what you’d been feeling. “Santiago. What you just sung, did you mean it?” Your eyes scanned his face, you wouldn’t be distracted this time. He had essentially used a song to confess his feelings to you, but it needed to be said outside of a song. Pope took hold of your chin and smiled. 

“Yes I meant it. I know how you’ve been undressing me the entire time I’ve been here angel. I’m not an idiot. At least in that department. I’ll say I’m not great at long term relationships so we’ll take it how it goes, sí (yes)?” He offered. That was all you needed to cup his face, place your fingers in his beard and pull him in for a frantic kiss. He appeared surprised which made you grin as he parted his lips for you, quickly recovering and wrapping his arms around you pulling you toward him as you let him in, his tongue exploring your mouth. The groan you released was loud as you pressed your thighs together, feeling the wetness spread. You pulled out of the kiss and pulled him toward your bedroom. “Cariño, you sure?” He asked with slightly red lips. You answered by  pushing him onto the bed, hands on your hips, you scanned his body. He didn’t need to ask and you weren’t going to answer such a silly question. You smacked your lips at the tent in those damn cargo pants he always wore.

“Too many clothes Garcia. Take them off.” Your hands went to your hips. “Now.” Santiago hadn’t seen this side of you and was enjoying it. He was normally one to take charge in the bedroom. He removed his shirt, exposing his taut muscles that flexed as he fiddled with his belt and removed his boxers and pants in one drop. He kicked off his socks as he sat on the side of bed with his arms out. You stepped up to him but didn’t embrace him. Instead, you just dropped your soaked panties as they hit the floor, heavy with your own wetness. Santi looked down and muttered a soft, “fuck,” next you removed your shirt. Your curves on full display as he attempted to place his hands on your hips but you stopped him. “Up on the bed. I’m due some friction since you keep teasing it with me.” 

“¡Joder! (Fuck) , this is what you like huh? Being in charge? I’ll play along this time.” He slid back toward the top of the bed where you were expecting him in the middle.

“That’s where I’m supposed to be Santi. Move back down.” You motioned as the bed dipped, you crawled next to him and looked down at him. He smirked, damn grin. You wanted to pink he cheek, both sets. 

“No. If you’re going to take charge then you need the right seat angel.” He wiggled his eyebrows as you scratched your chin for a moment. It clicked, he wanted you to…no one’s ever asked that. Pope didn’t give you a choice about settling on his face gently. He turned on his side to grab your knees and pulled you over his shoulders, his breath on your slick inner thighs. “Look at you. You’ll drench me won’t you angel?” He turned his head to the side and rubbed his beard on your thigh, you brought your legs closer together and reached down, taking a handful of his curls while calling his name. 

“Dammit, you know how many nights I’ve thought about this, your curls and this beard? Don’t ever mention cutting your hair again unless I say so.” You growled, his nose tipped upward touching your clit momentarily before he drew back. “Fuck..you damn tease Santiago…” His hands roamed from your knees to your thighs and then your large ass, giving it a squeeze. It made you buck your hips and drop them, making your slick lips come into contact with his beard. Your yelp was sharp and followed by multiple curses as you heard Garcia laugh into your core. It didn’t matter now if he laughed, you were here, sitting on this man’s face. You dropped your hips to stifle him, calling his name as you sat. The sweet grate of his beard against your thighs and mound had you dripping.

Santiago had never seen you so feral. He was throbbing as he watched you cry out his name and felt his cock twitch when you pulled on his hair. He knew he had an effect on you but didn’t expect this. This was so much better than he could have imagined. Now that he could barely breathe, he opened his mouth, kissing your entrance before rolling his tongue around your tight hole. He estimated that he’d definitely need you come at least twice to accommodate him. He then had it pass your entrance to explore within you and he felt your strong pulses. He smirked again, hearing you scream as he went deeper before truly starting. He alternated hollowing out his cheeks to suck what felt like your uterus out of you and having his tongue press against your soft core. He was concerned for a moment that you may pull out a chunk of his hair, the way you were using his head to steady yourself as you grinded into his face. When he was pulling his tongue back to suck again, you screamed his name again and gushed, soaking his face, beard and neck. He drank as if he'd come in from a desert and you were the first source of water he’d come across. When your body relaxed, you fell forward and he slid from under you to lay next to you. Your face was sweaty and some of your hair was sticking to your forehead, one of your hands weakly came up to your face in an attempt to hide it but he grabbed it and kissed it gently.

“You asked me to strip so no hiding hermosa (gorgeous). You had your beloved friction?” He teased and you smiled, shaking your head. He didn’t forget that you said that. He remembers all the wrong things. He set your hand down on the bed and rubbed your back, “Ready for more? I’m going to need at least two more from you.” He explained and your eyes went wide. 

“I might have one…and that’s being generous of me. Why two?” You managed to prop yourself on your elbows but were still on your stomach. His hand continued to rub your back and slowly went to your ass, then a finger slipped into your sensitive sex, making you gasp. “Y-You need to warn someone when you do that…”

“That’s why, you’re a little too tight.” He kissed your shoulder and licked your ear, “those boys you’ve dealt with and your toys don’t prepare you for me querida.” His finger pumped slowly and as it reached deeper he added a second one, making you lift your right knee to allow yourself to open more. The squelching noises coming from your cunt had you whine as you gaze up at Santiago who was watching you, his gaze heavy. “I wonder which chord your pussy plays to angel?” He licked his lips and nibbled on your ear again before speaking again, “Em?” His fingers pumped into your straight, “how about C?” He curved his fingers slightly and your hips snapped, you opened your legs even wider as you began to wiggle against the mattress. 

Santiago stopped his fingers for a moment and flipped you on your back before adding a third finger and curling his fingers even more, “How about G?” His eyes were dancing, watching you pant from just his hand. You’re saying his name, but babbling angrily at him. He finds it adorable that you still have it in you to be angry. You could hold a grudge. He’ll fuck it right out of you. His free hand roams your wide stomach as you pull on the sheets around you and your legs continue to part for him, feet planted into the mattress as you move your hips with his fingers. He leans over you and kisses you gently to which you release the sheets and grab his head, digging into his curls again, biting his bottom lip. He draws back deciding to finish you. He wants to watch you as you climax this time, “let me give you chord D cariño.” Santiago crosses two of his fingers over each other, bends them slightly, hitting your spongy sensitive tissue. Your hands let go of his hair and grasp his forearms, digging your nails into them and you groan with your second climax, it feels stronger than the first as your back arches. He revels in watching your mouth wide open spilling with his name repeatedly, even the pain from your nails is welcome. He’s not normally into it being a bit rough, but he senses that you might not be aware of what you’re doing. He wouldn’t mention it now. Something else to tease you with later. 

Slowly you feel his fingers leave your drenched cunt, you feel like you’re floating but exhausted. Your eyes flutter, but you watch as he licks his fingers, hearing him moan as he does. It had your core stirring again. Having him take you apart, break you even though you planned to be much more assertive, initially you weren’t happy about it, but he’d done nothing except pleasure you since you’d ask him to strip. “S-Santi, do you want me to…” Your eyes trailed down to his swollen and dripping cock which looked thicker than any you’d had, even your dildos. You were understanding more why he made sure to prepare you first. 

“Not tonight. I bet you’re still pissed at me for teasing you. I know you hold onto a grudge like a dog with a bone, angel. You'll be a little less mad after I finish with you.” He rubbed his beard against your soft stomach before settling between your legs, “Ah! Damn it, I need a condom. I’ll have to go to my room, I have some-” His face went from smoldering to panicked, then to confusion as you reached down and gently gripped the head of his dick.

“I have an IUD Santiago. I’m not mad but, you’re not taking your cock out of me until it’s soft. I will be livid if you do.” His eyes were wide as your knees parted further and you brought his head to your entrance. He placed his hand over yours and moved it gingerly. You watched as he looked up at you.

“I didn’t realize you were such a dangerous woman. As my angel wants.” Santiago slid into your wet cunt halfway, watching you to see if you had any discomfort. It was slight, only from the stretch, he was so girthy. You growled at him.

“You’re not all the way in are you? I’m fine. Just move, Please Santi…” That famous grin spread over his face as he pushed forward until his hips were flush with yours. “Yes…that’s it…fuck it’s so much. This was in those damn pants? It isn’t enough that  you have that ass?” You managed a small giggle, reaching your hands to cup his face. “Fuck me while you kiss me with this beard you sexy bastard.”

“You’re so damn kinky cariño. I love it and you, too.” His lips crashed into yours as he started his pace, not bothering with slow as he drew back and gave deep thrusts that kept hitting your cervix. Moans between the two of you had your lips swollen as you kept needing to either bite, suck or release cries. His hands moved from your stomach to your knees, bending your legs back and tipping your hips upward slightly, hitting an entirely different angle. Santiago was up on his knees and had moved out of your reach so you placed your hands over his that were on the back of your knees. Between him rutting into you and the bending you were doing to try and touch any part of him, your insides were quivering again. You were close again already. 

“S-Santi..It’s…” You stuttered, in between your whines. He nodded as he felt you starting to clamp around him, he felt his balls tightening. Dropping one of your knees, he wrapped an arm around your back to bring you close to him, one hand went to his soft curls, now drenched with sweat and the other held the back of his neck as your thumb ran across his temple and grazed his beard. With a few more pumps, Santiago spilled into you, groaning into a rough kiss with you, his teeth nearly colliding with yours if you hadn’t had your tongue run along them. The sensation of him filling your core, had your third orgasm begin. Pope slowly dragged his softening cock along your walls to extend it, he kissed trailed down your neck. When both of your bodies stopped moving, Santi gave it a minute and went to pull out to which you wrapped your legs around him. 

“Not yet. Just inside, a little longer Santi.” You cooed, kissing his shoulder. He nodded and held you, as the both of you soaked in each other’s warmth. When you removed your arms from him, he took that to mean that he could move which he did. He went to your bathroom as you tried to sit up. He looked back to you and quickly motioned for you to stay on the bed. He returned with a warm washcloth after whipping himself off and opened your legs. The cool air had you let out a quiet sigh. 

“Careful, you keep sounding like that, I may have you ride my face again angel.” You laughed knowing you didn’t have the strength to do so no matter how tempting it sounded. He carefully wiped, making you flinch as your cunt was swollen and sensitive. Once he finished, he helped you sit up and helped you to the bathroom. After the clean up was done, you both returned to bed, getting under the sheets, you laid next to Santi  and twirled a finger in his curls. “Ven aquí (come here) cariño. You enjoy yourself?” He pulled your upper body onto his chest, preferring to be face to face with you.

“I did. I’m going to be sore for a few days, but it’s worth it.” A soft smile graces your face as does Santi’s. You peck his lips and lay your head on his chest. His laugh vibrates throughout his chest. His hands are once again on your back, stroking it. It’s relaxing. 

“Good to know I’m worth it angel. I was starting to think all your staring had you rethinking my beard.” You poked out your bottom lip and pinched his bicep. His hands grabbed your hips and jiggled the extra flesh you had on them. 

“You could have just asked you damn tease.” 

“Nah. I had to make you work for it a bit. I’m not an easy man cariño.” He kissed your forehead as his hands traveled back up to your back. 

“You’re near impossible is what you are, Santiago. You’re lucky I love you.”

“Yeah, that I do know querida. I love you too.” A comfortable silence fell over the two of you in each other’s arms, fully exposed to each other finally. 

Music from the fic:

Santi's Peaches 🍑: @for-a-longlongtime @legendary-pink-dot @maggiemayhemnj @morallyinept @megamindsecretlair @pedritapascal @rhoorl @dameron-grant-spector @pamasaur @sin-djarin @i-own-loki @soft-persephone @soft-girl-musings @readingiskeepingmegoing @saturn-rings-writes @yorksgirl @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @musings-of-a-rose @heareball @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @magpiepills @trulybetty @wannab-urs @pedroshotwifey @missladym1981 @agentjackdaniels

#fanfiction #santiago garcia #santiago garcia x plus size reader #santiago pope garcia #santiago garcia x reader #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier #oscar isaac characters #oscar isaac #nerdieforpedro #Spotify

[pippytmi]

For the fake dating thing 11 with whomever you want!

“Do you always get into fist fights on first dates, or am I just lucky?”

There is a bruise already forming on Kara’s jaw, and her hand still has a phantom ache that won’t go away. There might be a touch of blood on the lapel of her shirt, too, but she has been unable to confirm without ready access to a mirror. But it’s this—the firm click of silver six-inch heels against pavement announcing Lena’s arrival—that brings Kara an instant sense of uneasiness.

“It’s kind of in the job description,” Kara shrugs off the rhetorical question. “You know, of being a girlfriend.”

Lena Luthor has an uncanny ability to make Kara feel completely, totally inept in any situation just with a quizzical quirk of an eyebrow and a ruby-red lipsticked frown. Not because she deliberately tries to, but because that’s just the Luthor™ way. Every member of that family seems to have mastered the ability to stare hard enough to make anyone squirm. Even though Kara has known Lena since they were kids—even though they know each other better than anyone else in the world—the effect is the same.

“That might be the most idiotic thing you’ve said all night.” Despite her stoic expression, Lena’s voice is surprisingly soft. “You should have walked away.”

“That would have been worse than not punching Mike Matthews, I think,” Kara says. “Really, I’m ninety-five percent sure I’m supposed to defend your honor, or… whatever the saying is.”

And the strangest thing happens; a glimpse of amusement cracks through Lena’s frown, visible in the ever-so-gentle upturn of the corner of her mouth. “Sorry, did I miss the part where we time traveled a hundred years ago?”

“It’s—you know what I mean,” Kara says. “If I was your real girlfriend everyone would expect me to punch guys in the face for you.”

“Or,” Lena counters, “it might be overkill, since everyone knows you are not inherently a violent person.”

Kara sheepishly tugs at her collar, unable to stop herself from flushing when Lena gazes at her so pointedly. “Does it matter if everyone who meets Mike wants to punch him? Because I’m pretty sure he could make a nun violent.”

“Wow,” Lena says. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say a mean thing about anyone before this.”

“Yeah, well…” Kara grimaces. “Mike Matthews brings it out of me. Or maybe this stuffy party does.” Her hand unconsciously goes back to her jacket, and she has to shrug it off all at once, suddenly feeling constricted in her suit. “I don’t know how you do it.”

Lena must be far more uncomfortable than Kara is, with those high heels and the skintight dress and the overall burden of familial expectations hanging on her shoulders, but she masks it remarkably well. “Practice,” she says—sighs. “And whiskey.”

“Gross,” Kara says, unconsciously crinkling her nose as she works at undoing her tie next. “I’m more of a Capri Sun girl myself.”

A short, stunned laugh emerges before Lena can likely quell it. “Right, how could I forget,” she says, and tilts her head in that curious way she does whenever she has a question she isn’t sure how to ask. But it must pass, because her actual question comes out in the form of: “Is there a reason you’re stripping in full view of the paparazzi?” 

“Fan service?” It’s a weak joke, but it makes Lena roll her eyes in that mock-exasperated way that Kara knows would be a laugh out of anyone else. “I just need to cool off, maybe. Then I promise, I’ll be your doting girlfriend for all the cameras again.” She allows a beat before she adds, perhaps unnecessarily, “Without any violence.”

“Yes, I think my mother would very much prefer that.”

Kara laughs, remembering the horrified look on Lillian Luthor’s face with—admittedly—a bit of glee. “Yeah,” she says, “I’m sure she’s thrilled with how tonight is going.”

“Well, she does think it’s all part of a rebellious phase,” Lena muses. “She’s convinced I’m doing this just to spite her.”

Kara has felt the brunt of Lillian’s disapproval back since she first befriended Lena when they were kids, back when they were auditioning for the same movie. Honestly, there is no telling why Lillian has always disliked Kara. Maybe it was because she wasn’t a nepotism baby like all the rest of crowd, or maybe it was because Kara would sneak Lena out of the giant Luthor mansion to go to the movies, or maybe it was because when they were teenagers Kara had wrecked the Porsche (on a dare)...but that disdain has been steadfast ever since they were young, and it’s never once wavered. Everyone knows it. Lena knows it.

Which is why Kara is unable to keep the confusion out of her voice when she says, “Uh. Aren’t you?”

“Aren’t I…what?” Lena repeats, lost.

“Pretending to date me to spite her?” Kara prompts. “You know. Since she hates me?”

Lena’s brow furrows ever-so-slightly. “I didn’t mean dating you,” she says. “I mean dating in general. She thinks it’s a distraction.” She absentmindedly picks at one of the sequins on her dress, a nervous tic that she has never been able to shake. “God, it’s getting cold out here.”

The temperature is just right for Kara, but Lena has always run cold; Kara’s poked fun at her for it once or twice (or for their entire childhood, but who’s keeping track). An unbidden smile, fonder than it has any right to be, inevitably forms. “Well sit down, so you can leech some of my body heat. Besides, you make me tired just looking at you in those heels.”

“Then I’ll be colder,” Lena objects, eyeing the stone of the fountain edge that Kara is currently sitting on. “No way.”

“You’re the most high maintenance fake girlfriend ever,” Kara feigns annoyance. “Here, then. Sit on my lap. And you can put my jacket over your legs.”

It’s hard to exactly tell with the dim lighting of the streetlights, but Lena—blushes? Maybe? And immediately shakes her head. “I’m too heavy.”

“No such thing,” Kara retorts. “I’ll keep stripping if you don’t sit down, Lena. Then your mother will really have a reason to hate me.”

“You are trying to create scandal everywhere you can tonight, aren’t you?” Lena says, but doesn’t move, only crosses her arms and gives Kara an exasperated look. “It would be a hell of a front page.”

“Wow, Lena, if you wanted me naked all you had to do was ask,” Kara says, undoing the first two buttons of her shirt while Lena continues to glare. Then, for fun, she continues up until she hits the top of her bra and Lena’s jaw fully drops in alarm.

“Oh my God, Kara, stop!”

But the ruse works, because as Lena moves forward as if she’s about to button Kara’s shirt back up (or just push her into the fountain), Kara is able to wrap an arm around Lena’s waist and tug her down. Lena yelps in surprise, arms coming up to squeeze around Kara’s neck, and Kara has to hide a grin into the curls that hit her full force in the face.

“Geez, Lena, you’re like an ice cube. Don’t you own a sweater?”

“You asshole,” Lena says, but there is no bite in her voice, only annoyed defeat. “If I get glitter all over you, I’m not going to apologize.”

“I’ll let it slide, this once.” Kara doesn’t mention that there’s nothing in the world that she wouldn’t let Lena get away with. That’s the inevitable truth of being in love with this girl pretty much her whole life—Kara caves first, and she always has. Whether it was what flavor of Gatorade to get from the vending machine, or whether it was who got to sit down in the only remaining chair for a last minute casting call, or whether it was to tag along to Lena’s prom date so the boy wouldn’t try to kiss her, Kara always let Lena call the shots.

Lena exhales; Kara feels the warmth of Lena’s breath against her temple, feels the steady weight of Lena’s body as she shifts on Kara’s lap, feels the rough pattern of Lena’s dress sequins against her fingertips. “You know you’re my best friend, right?” Lena says suddenly.

Those words always make Kara’s heart skip a beat, like they’re right back to being fifteen and nervously holding each other’s sweaty hands while poring over crumpled scripts. “I’d better be,” Kara quips, if only to keep her sappiness at bay, “or I’m returning the BFF necklaces I brought as our first-anniversary gift.”

“I’m serious,” Lena huffs, and her grip around Kara’s neck tightens just a hair. “Will you let me be serious?”

“Okay, okay. One hundred percent seriousness from here on out, I promise.”

For a moment, the only sound is that of cars passing, of the trickle from the water fountain, of the faint music coming from the party. And when Lena speaks at last, it’s quiet. “I know my mom’s not the…easiest person,” she says. “And if pretending to be my girlfriend is going to make you uncomfortable because you have to deal with her, you don’t have to do it.”

“I’ve been dealing with your mother forever, Lena,” Kara says lightly. “She hasn’t been able to scare me off yet, for as much as she’s tried.”

Lena scoffs, but her hand is unmistakably tender as she fiddles with Kara’s shirt collar. “What happened to being serious?”

“I am serious! Do you or do you not remember that time we went to the water park? I swear she cut a hole in my water tube slide. And let’s not even bring up the whole prom incident, because I swear my hip has never been the same since falling out of your window.”

“She didn’t even know that was you.” Lena laughs, and it’s still somewhat hesitant, but just affectionate enough to reflect her feelings about that memory. “That feels like a lifetime ago.”

Kara inhales, shakily, both the sweet scent of Lena’s perfume and some much-needed air. “In a good way or a bad way?”

Lena presses her forehead into Kara’s jaw, her skin still cold enough that it makes Kara sympathetically squeeze her tighter. “Can you just promise to tell me if you don’t feel comfortable?” she asks, and ignores Kara’s question entirely. “Either with my mother, or…just the pretending part with me.”

“I feel plenty comfortable,” Kara tries, but Lena just reiterates,

“Promise me, Kara. I don't want to lose you.”

Something about the urgency in Lena's tone shifts the mood entirely; Kara swallows tightly and nods obligingly. “Okay. I promise. But you have to tell me, too, if anything becomes…I don't know, too much.”

“Fine,” Lena agrees readily.

“No, wait, but listen,” Kara presses. “Being friends is one thing, but dating is another, and—even if it's fake, we're going to have to do couple things. And I don't want it to ruin our friendship.”

“I also don't want to ruin our friendship,” Lena says. “Which is why I brought it up first.”

“Good. Okay. I just wanted to be sure.” Kara awkwardly shifts, all too aware that this might not be the ideal time and place for this conversation. Much less when Lena's still in her lap, clinging to Kara as if afraid to let go. “So on a scale of one to ten, how badly have I messed up the friendship by fighting Mike?”

Lema hums, considering. “That depends on what he said about me.”

“Um, nothing nice,” Kara says haltingly. “I'd rather not repeat it.”

“Then I'll let it slide…this once.” Lena's hands find their way up to Kara's face, fingertips gentle against the bruise on her jaw. “But you are still an idiot.” She thumbs warmly against the apple of Kara's cheek and gazes at Kara from underneath thick mascaraed eyelashes, then whispers, “And you're my favorite.”

“Your favorite idiot?”

“My favorite person.” Suddenly they're seventeen again, and Kara is sitting on Lena's bedroom floor still tugging at her tux because it itches. Suddenly they're seventeen again, and Lena is biting her lip and unable to catch Kara’s eye. Suddenly they’re seventeen again, and Lena is whispering I wanted you to make sure he didn’t kiss me because I want you to be my first kiss.

Kara blinks, mouth opening and closing for a pause, before she has to fall back on a safe feeling—fall right back to humor, so Lena does not comment on the way Kara’s body automatically tenses. “Aw, Lena,” she manages, “that sounded a lot like you like me.”

“I’m just a good actress,” Lena says mock-haughtily, but her eyes are searching as they lock onto Kara’s, expression softening the way no one else ever really sees. To the world she’s always been some cold, aloof superstar, but to Kara she will always be the best friend who wanted her first kiss to be with the person she trusted most in the world.

“Well for the record,” Kara swallows thickly, “you’re my favorite, too.”

There is a split second—a charged, electric second—where Kara swears Lena is going to kiss her. Her eyes are hooded like they’re about to close, and her face sways closer, her hand still resting on Kara’s bruised jaw. But then she sighs, and Kara can feel the distance before she sees it.

“We should go back inside,” Lena says, abruptly stumbling off of Kara's lap. “Sooner or later we'll have to do damage control.”

It takes a beat for Kara to catch up. “Right,” she says, hastening to button up her shirt and follow. “It wouldn't be a Luthor party without damage control.”

“It's the first time you're the cause, though,” Lena throws over her shoulder. “And don't forget your tie!”

“Got it,” Kara calls, undoing her tie entirely and tossing it into the bushes. “Hey, wait up! Come back and hold my hand.”

That makes Lena freeze in place. “What?”

“For—you know, the cameras,” Kara says, shrugging her suit jacket back on. “So we can show a united front.”

Lena gives her an inscrutable look. “You say the weirdest things sometimes,” she says, but she allows Kara to catch up and intertwine their hands together without further complaint. 

“How else is everyone supposed to know you're not mad at me?” Kara reminds her. “Or that I'm the best girlfriend you've ever had?”

“I doubt they're going to make that assumption based on hand holding.” But as they climb up the steps to rejoin the gala, the low, golden light illuminates that dimpled smile of Lena's that makes Kara breathless. “What makes you think you're the best, anyway?”

“Just a guess,” Kara says, squeezing Lena's hand as they reach the entrance. “Am I?”

“Let's see if you end tonight without any more fights first,” Lena quips, and while her voice is teasing, her smile grows exponentially tender. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Kara echoes quietly, and allows Lena to lead her right through those double doors knowing that she would follow Lena anywhere.

#prompt was: 'aw that sounded a lot like you like me / im just a good actor' #i rewrote this a million times and finally settled on a childhood friends + celebrity au :) #supercorp #supergirl #i need a fic tag #i miss these two dramatic ''besties'' who just wanna kiss each other on the mouth #lyssa #as always ty for the prompt !! <3

[badnewswhatsleft]

2023 september - rock sound #300 (fall out boy cover) scans

transcript below cut!

WHAT A TIME TO BE ALIVE

With the triumphant ‘So Much (For) Stardust’ capturing a whole new generation of fans, Fall Out Boy are riding high, celebrating their past while looking towards a bright future. Pete Wentz and Patrick Stump reflect on recent successes and the lessons learned from two decades of writing and performing together.

WORDS: James Wilson-Taylor PHOTOS: Elliot Ingham

You have just completed a US summer tour that included stadium shows and some of your most ambitious production to date. What were your aims going into this particular show?

PETE: Playing stadiums is a funny thing. I pushed pretty hard to do a couple this time because I think that the record Patrick came up with musically lends itself to that feeling of being part of something larger than yourself. When we were designing the cover to the album, it was meant to be all tangible, which was a reaction to tokens and skins that you can buy and avatars. The title is made out of clay, and the painting is an actual painting. We wanted to approach the show in that way as well. We’ve been playing in front of a gigantic video wall for the past eight years. Now, we wanted a stage show where you could actually walk inside it.

Did adding the new songs from ‘So Much (For) Stardust’ into the setlist change the way you felt about them?

PATRICK: One of the things that was interesting about the record was that we took a lot of time figuring out what it was going to be, what it was going to sound like. We experimented with so many different things. I was instantly really proud. I felt really good about this record but it wasn’t until we got on stage and you’re playing the songs in between our catalogue that I really felt that. It was really noticeable from the first day on this tour - we felt like a different band. There’s a new energy to it. There was something that I could hear live that I couldn’t hear before.

You also revisited a lot of older tracks and b-sides on this tour, including many from the ‘Folie à Deux’-era. What prompted those choices?

PETE: There were some lean years where there weren’t a lot of rock bands being played on pop radio or playing award shows so we tried to play the biggest songs, the biggest versions of them. We tried to make our thing really airtight, bulletproof so that when we played next to whoever the top artist was, people were like, ‘oh yeah, they should be here.’ The culture shift in the world is so interesting because now, maybe rather than going wider, it makes more sense to go deeper with people. We thought about that in the way that we listen to music and the way we watch films. Playing a song that is a b-side or barely made a record but is someone’s favourite song makes a lot of sense in this era. PATRICK: I think there also was a period there where, to Pete’s point, it was a weird time to be a rock band. We had this very strange thing that happened to us, and not a lot of our friends for some reason, where we had a bunch of hits, right? And it didn’t make any sense to me. It still doesn’t make sense to me. But there was a kind of novelty, where we could play a whole set of songs that a lot of people know. It was fun and rewarding for us to do that. But then you run the risk of playing the same set forever. I want to love the songs that we play. I want to care about it and put passion into what we do. And there’s no sustainable way to just do the same thing every night and not get jaded. We weren’t getting there but I really wanted to make sure that we don’t ever get there. PETE: In the origin of Fall Out Boy, what happened at our concerts was we knew how to play five songs really fast and jumped off walls and the fire marshal would shut it down. It was what made the show memorable, but we wanted to be able to last and so we tried to perfect our show and the songs and the stage show and make it flawless. Then you don’t really know how much spontaneity you want to include, because something could go wrong. When we started this tour, and we did a couple of spontaneous things, it opened us up to more. Because things did go wrong and that’s what made the show special. We’re doing what is the most punk rock version of what we could be doing right now.

You seem generally a lot more comfortable celebrating your past success at this point in your career.

PETE: I think it’s actually not a change from our past. I love those records, but I never want to treat them in a cynical way. I never want there to be a wink and a smile where we’re just doing this because it’s the anniversary. This was us celebrating these random songs and we hope people celebrate them with us. There was a purity to it that felt in line with how we’ve always felt about it. I love ‘Folie à Deux’ - out of any Fall Out Boy record that’s probably the one I would listen to. But I just never want it to be done in a cynical way, where we feel like we have to. But celebrating it in a way where there’s the purity of how we felt when we wrote the song originally, I think that’s fucking awesome. PATRICK: Music is a weird art form. Because when you’re an actor and you play a character, that is a specific thing. James Bond always wears a suit and has a gun and is a secret agent. If you change one thing, that’s fine, but you can’t really change all of it. But bands are just people. You are yourself. People get attached to it like it’s a story but it’s not. That was always something that I found difficult. For the story, it’s always good to say, ‘it’s the 20th anniversary, let’s go do the 20th anniversary tour’, that’s a good story thing. But it’s not always honest. We never stopped playing a lot of the songs from ‘Take This To Your Grave’, right? So why would I need to do a 20-year anniversary and perform all the songs back to back? The only reason would be because it would probably sell a lot of tickets and I don’t really ever want to be motivated by that, frankly. One of the things that’s been amazing is that now as the band has been around for a while, we have different layers of audience. I love ‘Folie à Deux’, I do. I love that record. But I had a really personally negative experience of touring on it. So that’s what I think of when I think of that record initially. It had to be brought back to me for me to appreciate it, for me to go, ‘oh, this record is really great. I should be happy with this. I should want to play this.’ So that’s why we got into a lot of the b-sides because we realised that our perspectives on a lot of these songs were based in our feelings and experiences from when we were making them. But you can find new experiences if you play those songs. You can make new memories with them.

You alluded there to the 20th anniversary of ‘Take This To Your Grave’. Obviously you have changed and developed as a band hugely since then. But is there anything you can point to about making that debut record that has remained a part of your process since then?

PETE: We have a language, the band, and it’s definitely a language of cinema and film. That’s maintained through time. We had very disparate music tastes and influences but I think film was a place we really aligned. You could have a deep discussion because none of us were filmmakers. You could say which part was good and which part sucked and not hurt anybody’s feelings, because you weren’t going out to make a film the next day. Whereas with music, I think if we’d only had that to talk about, we would have turned out a different band. PATRICK: ‘Take This To Your Grave’, even though it’s absolutely our first record, there’s an element of it that’s still a work in progress. It is still a band figuring itself out. Andy wasn’t even officially in the band for half of the recording, right? I wasn’t even officially the guitar player for half of the recording. We were still bumbling through it. There was something that popped up a couple times throughout that record where you got these little inklings of who the band really was. We really explored that on ‘From Under The Cork Tree’. So when we talk about what has remained the same… I didn’t want to be a singer, I didn’t know anything about singing, I wasn’t planning on that. I didn’t even plan to really be in this band for that long because Pete had a real band that really toured so I thought this was gonna be a side project. So there’s always been this element within the band where I don’t put too many expectations on things and then Pete has this really big ambition, creatively. There’s this great interplay between the two of us where I’m kind of oblivious, and I don’t know when I’m putting out a big idea and Pete has this amazing vision to find what goes where. There’s something really magical about that because I never could have done a band like this without it. We needed everybody, we needed all four of us. And I think that’s the thing that hasn’t changed - the four of us just being ourselves and trying to figure things out. Listening back to ‘Folie’ or ‘Infinity On High’ or ‘American Beauty’, I’m always amazed at how much better they are than I remember. I listened to ‘MANIA’ the other day, and I have a lot of misgivings about that record, a lot of things I’m frustrated about. But then I’m listening to it and I’m like ‘this is pretty good.’ There’s a lot of good things in there. I don’t know why, it’s kind of like you can’t see those things. It’s kind of amazing to have Pete be able to see those things. And likewise, sometimes Pete has no idea when he writes something brilliant, as a lyricist, and I have to go, ‘No, I’m gonna keep that one, I’m gonna use that.’

On ‘So Much (For) Stardust’, you teamed up with producer Neal Avron again for the first time since 2008. Given how much time has passed, did it take a minute to reestablish that connection or did you pick up where you left off?

PATRICK: It really didn’t feel like any time had passed between us and Neal. It was pretty seamless in terms of working with him. But then there was also the weird aspect where the last time we worked with him was kind of contentious. Interpersonally, the four of us were kind of fighting with each other… as much as we do anyway. We say that and then that myth gets built bigger than it was. We were always pretty cool with each other. It’s just that the least cool was making ‘Folie’. So then getting into it again for this record, it was like no time has passed as people but the four of us got on better so we had more to bring to Neal. PETE: It’s a little bit like when you return to your parents’ house for a holiday break when you’re in college. It’s the same house but now I can drink with my parents. We’d grown up and the first times we worked with Neal, he had to do so much more boy scout leadership, ‘you guys are all gonna be okay, we’re gonna do this activity to earn this badge so you guys don’t fucking murder each other.’ This time, we probably got a different version of Neal that was even more creative, because he had to do less psychotherapy. He went deep too. Sometimes when you’re in a session with somebody, and they’re like, ‘what are we singing about?’, I’ll just be like, ‘stuff’. He was not cool with ‘stuff’. I would get up and go into the bathroom outside the studio and look in the mirror, and think ‘what is it about? How deep are we gonna go?’ That’s a little but scarier to ask yourself. If last time Neal was like a boy scout leader, this time, it was more like a Sherpa. He was helping us get to the summit.

The title track of the album also finds you in a very reflective mood, even bringing back lyrics from ‘Love From The Other Side’. How would you describe the meaning behind that title and the song itself?

PETE: The record title has a couple of different meanings, I guess. The biggest one to me is that we basically all are former stars. That’s what we’re made of, those pieces of carbon. It still feels like the world’s gonna blow and it’s all moving too fast and the wrong things are moving too slow. That track in particular looks back at where you sometimes wish things had gone differently. But this is more from the perspective of when you’re watching a space movie, and they’re too far away and they can’t quite make it back. It doesn’t matter what they do and at some point, the astronaut accepts that. But they’re close enough that you can see the look on their face. I feel like there’s moments like that in the title track. I wish some things were different. But, as an adult going through this, you are too far away from the tether, and you’re just floating into space. It is sad and lonely but in some ways, it’s kind of freeing, because there’s other aspects of our world and my life that I love and that I want to keep shaping and changing. PATRICK: I’ll open up Pete’s lyrics and I just start hearing things. It almost feels effortless in a lot of ways. I just read his lyrics and something starts happening in my head. The first line, ‘I’m in a winter mood, dreaming of spring now’, instantly the piano started to form to me. That was a song that I came close to not sending to the band. When I make demos, I’ll usually wait until I have five or six to send to everybody. I didn’t know if anyone was gonna like this. It’s too moody or it’s not very us. But it was pretty unanimous. Everyone liked that one. I knew this had to end the record. It took on a different life in the context of the whole album. Then on the bridge section, I knew it was going to be the lyrics from ‘Love From The Other Side’. It’s got to come back here. It’s the bookends, but I also love lyrically what it does, you know, ‘in another life, you were my babe’, going back to that kind of regret, which feels different in ‘Love From The Other Side’ than it does here. When the whole song came together, it was the statement of the record.

Aside from the album, you have released a few more recent tracks that have opened you up to a whole new audience, most notably the collaboration with Taylor Swift on ‘Electric Touch’.

PETE: Taylor is the only artist that I’ve met or interacted with in recent times who creates exactly the art of who she is, but does it on such a mass level. So that’s breathtaking to watch from the sidelines. The way fans traded friendship bracelets, I don’t know what the beginning of it was, but you felt that everywhere. We felt that, I saw that in the crowd on our tour. I don’t know Taylor well, but I think she’s doing exactly what she wants and creating exactly the art that she wants to create. And doing that, on such a level, is really awe-inspiring to watch. It makes you want to make the biggest, weirdest version of our thing and put that out there.

Then there was the cover of Billy Joel’s ‘We Didn’t Start The Fire’, which has had some big chart success for you. That must have taken you slightly by surprise.

PATRICK: It’s pretty unexpected. Pete and I were going back and forth about songs we should cover and that was an idea that I had. This is so silly but there was a song a bunch of years ago I had written called ‘Dark Horse’ and then there was a Katy Perry song called ‘Dark Horse’ and I was like, ‘damn it’, you know, I missed the boat on that one. So I thought if we don’t do this cover, somebody else is gonna do it. Let’s just get in the studio and just do it. We spent way more time on those lyrics than you would think because we really wanted to get a specific feel. It was really fun and kind of loose, we just came together in Neal’s house and recorded it in a day. PETE: There’s irreverence to it. I thought the coolest thing was when Billy Joel got asked about it, and he was like, ‘I’m not updating it, that’s fine, go for it.’ I hope if somebody ever chose to update one of ours, we’d be like that. Let them do their thing, they’ll have that version. I thought that was so fucking cool.

It’s also no secret that the sound you became most known for in the mid-2000s is having something of a commercial revival right now. But what is interesting is seeing how bands are building on that sound and changing it.

PATRICK: I love when anybody does anything that feels honest to them. Touring with Bring Me The Horizon, it was really cool seeing what’s natural to them. It makes sense. We changed our sound over time but we were always going to do that. It wasn’t a premeditated thing but for the four of us, it would have been impossible to maintain making the same kind of music forever. Whereas you’ll play with some other bands and they live that one sound. You meet up with them for dinner or something and they’re wearing the shirt of the band that sounds just like their band. You go to their house and they’re playing other bands that sound like them because they live in that thing. Whereas with the four of us and bands like Bring Me The Horizon, we change our sounds over time. And there’s nothing wrong with either. The only thing that’s wrong is if it’s unnatural to you. If you’re AC/DC and all of a sudden power ballads are in and you’re like, ‘Okay, we’ve got to do a power ballad’, that’s when it sucks. But if you’re a thrash metal guy who likes Celine Dion then yeah, do a power ballad. Emo as a word doesn’t mean anything anymore. But if people want to call it that, if the emo thing is back or having another life again, if that’s what’s natural to an artist, I think the world needs more earnest art. If that’s who you are, then do it. PETE: It would be super egotistical to think that the wave that started with us and My Chemical Romance and Panic! At The Disco has just been circling and cycling back. I  remember seeing Nikki Sixx at the airport and he was like, ‘Oh, you’re doing a flaming bass? Mine came from a backpack.’ It keeps coming back but it looks different. Talking to Lil Uzi Vert and Juice WRLD when he was around, it’s so interesting, because it’s so much bigger than just emo or whatever. It’s this whole big pop music thing that’s spinning and churning, and then it moves on, and then it comes back with different aspects and some of the other stuff combined. When you’re a fan of music and art and film, you take different stuff, you add different ingredients, because that’s your taste. Seeing the bands that are up and coming to me, it’s so exciting, because the rules are just different, right? It’s really cool to see artists that lean into the weirdness and lean into a left turn when everyone’s telling you to make a right. That’s so refreshing. PATRICK: It’s really important as an artist gets older to not put too much stock in your own influence. The moment right now that we’re in is bigger than emo and bigger than whatever was happening in 2005. There’s a great line in ‘Downton Abbey’ where someone was asking the Lord about owning this manor and he’s like, ‘well, you don’t really own it, there have been hundreds of owners and you are the custodian of it for a brief time.’ That’s what pop music is like. You just have the ball for a minute and you’re gonna pass it on to somebody else.

We will soon see you in the UK for your arena tour. How do you reflect on your relationship with the fans over here?

PETE: I remember the first time we went to the UK, I wasn’t prepared for how culturally different it was. When we played Reading & Leeds and the summer festivals, it was so different, and so much deeper within the culture. It was a little bit of a shock. The first couple of times we played, I was like, ‘Oh, my God, are we gonna die?’ because the crowd was so crazy, and there was bottles. Then when we came back, we thought maybe this is a beast to be tamed. Finally, you realise it’s a trading of energy. That made the last couple of festivals we played so fucking awesome. When you really realise that the fans over there are real fans of music. It’s really awesome and pretty beautiful. PATRICK: We’ve played the UK now more than a lot of regions of the states. Pretty early on, I just clicked with it. There were differences, cultural things and things that you didn’t expect. But it never felt that different or foreign to me, just a different flavour… PETE: This is why me and Patrick work so well together (laughs).  PATRICK: Well, listen; I’m a rainy weather guy. There is just things that I get there. I don’t really drink anymore all that much. But I totally will have a beer in the UK, there’s something different about every aspect of it, about the ordering of it, about the flavour of it, everything, it’s like a different vibe. The UK audience seemed to click with us too. There have been plenty of times where we felt almost more like a UK band than an American one. There have been years where you go there and almost get a more familial reaction than you would at home. Rock Sound has always been a part of that for us. It was one of the first magazines to care about us and the first magazine to do real interviews. That’s the thing, you would do all these interviews and a lot of them would be like ‘so where did the band’s name come from?’ But Rock Sound took us seriously as artists, maybe before some of us did. That actually made us think about who we are and that was a really cool experience. I think in a lot of ways, we wouldn’t be the band we are without the UK, because I think it taught us a lot about what it is to be yourself.

Fall Out Boy’s ‘So Much (For) Stardust’ is out now via Fueled By Ramen.

#the cover is so funny. like theyre cute but that is genuinely bug angle. that is bugs under a rock angle. THEYRE ALREADY SHORT KINGS #fall out boy #pete wentz #patrick stump #andy hurley #joe trohman #time capsule #read the charts #ANYWAY GO HERE. GO READ HERE. BECAUSE I SPENT A LONG TIME TRANSCRIBING EVEN THO TRNASNCRIBING SUCKKSSS #i looped the spell soundtrack like 5 times and got jusmpscared by track9 every time. and then i put on smfs<3 #patrick's comments about the mythologising of fob lore is so interesting #listen baby i know ur fed up and it's not ur fault but u have to understand. the story of ur band is on some genuine fanfic ass other level #the way they talk about neal avron is sooo funny #imagine being producer for this young band. and theyre brilliant but theyre also twentysomethings(derogatory) #also the way pete talks abt swift. lol. also why does he answer the q when patrick was the one in the studio lol??? #ALSO also. pete being afraid of british ppl (valid and true) #and patrick pretty much taking to the uk like a duck to water (also valid and tru) is sooo funny #i rlly liked this interview i wiiiiish i got the bundle w the photobook and whatever but i was way too late :(((((((((

[habizuh-studios]

TGCF in Hua Cheng's POV?!

More likely than you think. Part 1, Book 1

---------------- “Crimson Rain,” Hua Cheng hears in his spiritual communication array. He’s been so bored lately. The only semi-interesting thing that had happened was him pummeling Qi Rong to the ground in his own city, so he’s excited to hear something.“I have good news for you,” he says. He more excited than usual. “So good that you have to contact me this way?” Hua Cheng says with a smirk. “To the point of having to use that stupid password, yes,” He Xuan probably rolls his eyes. “But I’ll get straight to the point. His Highness, the Crown Prince of Xianle, has ascended to Heaven once again.” Hua Cheng’s eyes go wide hearing that. His Royal Highness… Part of him wishes he found him earlier. The rest of him, however, is quietly celebrating. He brings his hand down from when it was resting on his temple and closes it into a fist. His head hangs down a little bit and he closes his eyes. He smiles- a true, genuine smile. It may be ugly, with too sharp teeth and crooked, but it’s genuine. It took so long… “Hua Cheng, what are you doing?” He Xuan’s annoying monotone voice breaks his euphoric stupor. Fuck He Xuan. “You don’t even know where he currently is.” “... Aren’t you going to tell me?” “Yes,” He Xuan says. How Hua Cheng can hear the joy in He Xuan’s voice. It’s uncharacteristic, but he doesn’t really care at the moment. “But not for free. He has caused quite the property damage from his ascension alone. Sent a clock flying towards General Xuan Zhen, destroyed General Nan Yang’s palace… He’s in a lot of debt. Now he’s doing a mission in the mortal realm to pay it off.” Hua Cheng thinks that this is very convenient. His good luck was actually worth something! “Hua Cheng, don’t you want to know where he-” “Free food, five months. I’ll feed your bonefish for two months. Anything else for them, one. Nothing to your debt.” “Ehem, pardon?” “You heard me. Do we have a deal, He Xuan?” “DEAL. He should be near the mountain of Yu Jun, at a tea shop… Small Shop of Chance Encounters. Fitting name, isn’t it? Anyway, he’s going to solving that Ghost Groom case some people were praying about. Maybe he’ll even ride in the bridal sedan…” “6 months of free food.” Hua Cheng can hear how much smile is in He Xuan’s voice. It’s disgusting, honestly, and he honestly pities him. That does not matter right now, however. What does matter is His Highness. He will not throw away this chance no matter how much it costs him. Just to see him once is all he asks for.

#drabble #tumblr drabbles #tgcf #tian guan ci fu #heaven officials blessing #xie lian #hua cheng #crimson rain #crimson rain sought flower #he xuan #simp. you simp #setting up for actual plot is so disheartening #this is just a little something #im actually nervous about this because #i want to do his pov justice #he deserves it <3

[thepixelelf]

and the universe said,

05 “trust no one”

genres/tags: soulmate au, idol au, comedy, romance, dumbassery relationship(s): ot13 x reader chapter warnings: language. note: sorry for not updating in a while <3 it will happen again <3

When soulmates are suddenly thrust upon the world, you are one in a million who wishes they weren’t – and that’s before you meet the person (people?!) making your life much harder than it needs to be. And before someone asks you to sign an NDA.

series masterlist

prev ⭒ chapter five (3.2k) ⭒ next

You walk out of the interview room with your shoulders straight, your stride smooth and confident, and your chin held high.

Then you leave the building, and your “I got this” persona drops like an ice cream scoop on hot pavement. You don’t show any outward signs of your turmoil because there are people around, but in your head, you’re screaming.

If there’s one thing to make you feel the tiniest bit better, it’s the fact that you’re now wearing short sleeves on such a nice day. After the coffee spilling debacle not even an hour ago, you’d luckily been able to run into a random clothing shop that was between the cafe and where you had your interview. The clerk probably thought you were crazy for grabbing the first thing off a rack which might fit you and buying it within a minute of walking through the door, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. It was either that, or go to your interview drenched in cold brew.

The downside of the short sleeved shirt you’re wearing now, though, was just as expected. You weren’t even done introducing yourself before your soulmate started singing again. For all the staring you’ve undergone since the discovery of the existence of soulmates, the interviewer was relatively apathetic towards your moving mark. You thought maybe she didn’t care — that you’d actually be able to snag a job without being bombarded with questions about a person you haven’t met yet.

And then she asked, “Have you met your soulmate?”

You told her the truth. No, you haven’t met them yet. You didn’t mention how you’re not sure if you even want to right now.

Thoughtfully, she nodded her head and wrote something down on her clipboard. You wondered what she could have possibly needed to write down from that information. “I’ve read that soulmate pulls can negatively effect work performance,” she said, monotone. “Do you have any solutions in mind if that should happen?”

And at that, you just blinked. Of all the interview questions you’d practiced with Heejun, that certainly wasn’t one of them. You hated the way you floundered for more than a few seconds, practically silent while the interviewer waited for your answer.

Damn coffee guy. If it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t have looked like such an idiot.

Thinking of him again, you sigh and pull out your phone. Right before the interview, you’d swiped away the text you’d sent yourself from his phone, but now you open up the near-empty message thread. 

Maybe you were a little harsh. You were nervous for your interview and panicked when you had to deal with one more thing on top of your stupid soulmark. 

Then again, he did pour an entire fucking coffee on you. So maybe you weren’t harsh enough.

You stare at the message and the unsaved number. If you were a perfect person, an ideal member of society, an utter angel, maybe you’d just live and let live. But that was one of your nicest shirts, and you’re not a perfect person.

So you send him the account you use for e-transfers. Nothing else, just that. If he ghosts you and doesn’t send anything — fine. You won’t harass him. You’ll just complain harder to Heejun later. If he does pay you back, then maybe he’s not an asshole and it really was an accident.

Still, if this costs you another job opportunity…

Shaking the thought away, you sigh and close the messaging app to find the fastest bus route home.

⭒

Boo Seungkwan really thought that when the vocal unit of the band Seventeen was invited for a radio show appearance, they’d be asked about music.

All of the members were advised to keep their marks as hidden as possible — while being subtle about it, of course. Their fans know about the five lines, but the music note part of their marks has remained off camera and unmentioned while the company tries to figure out a plausible explanation to pedal to the public. Seungkwan doesn’t like lying, but he can’t deny that keeping their extra soulmate a secret would probably be best for their privacy. Each member chose to be a part of this life, and with that, chose to lose a certain level of privacy between themselves and the public eye. Their soulmate never signed up for that.

“A lot of your fans have mentioned how unsurprised they were to find out you all were soulmates,” the radio host starts, kicking off yet another question about the phenomenon linking all the members together. Seungkwan has tried to be funny about it — that’s sort of his thing — but the questions are starting to grate at him. “Were you guys surprised at all?”

Jeonghan, somehow taking over most of the questions today and managing to keep calm, has steered a lot of the conversations exactly the way management wants them. He’s doing it so well that Seungkwan is almost suspicious.

“Oh, it was definitely shocking,” he answers with a half chuckle, which earns a polite laugh back from the host. “I mean, I woke up with a brand new tattoo! To be in that situation without any context, then find out all your friends are going through the exact same thing… it was something straight out of the imagination. We were all so confused until we came across news of the phenomenon worldwide.”

Seokmin leans closer to his mic. “The night before, I practiced really late. When I woke up and saw the mark, I thought I’d drawn it and forgot.”

“But you couldn’t draw lines that straight and perfectly spaced apart even if you were awake!” Jeonghan teases.

“Exactly!” Seokmin scoots his chair closer to the table, hands excitedly gripping the armrests. “I thought I unlocked secret artistic talent when I was tired, or something!”

“If you told me you thought that before all this soulmate stuff came to light, I would’ve thought that was way more probable,” Joshua jokes.

The host laughs, but he prods on. “I’m sure waking up with tattoos you don’t remember getting was a surprise, but are any of you surprised that you’re each other’s soulmates? Many fans have always thought of you as soulmates.”

The vocal unit members look at each other, and Seungkwan makes eye contact with Jihoon, who’s been quiet for most of the show, amicably nodding along and smiling at everyone’s jokes. It’s not unusual for him to dial down his presence during interviews, especially when Seungkwan is there to keep everyone entertained. Since Seungkwan has been a bit quieter today, though, (less focused on making jokes and keeping up the atmosphere,) he’s noticed something about Jihoon.

He’s… happy.

And not just “on camera” happy. This bitch is glowing.

Jihoon is honestly not a grumpy guy. Sure, he’s not as outwardly sunshiney as someone like Seokmin or Soonyoung, and sure, he’s not the biggest fan of skinship — or even a fan at all — but he always treats the boys like family. He likes his alone time, but he likes time with them, too. He laughs at everyone’s jokes, and you can always tell when his smile is genuine. 

This smile? There’s more to it than just being plastered on to keep up a good public image.

Something is up.

Jeonghan is the one to break the short silence. “I’ve said this before, but the members of Seventeen are my best friends. Most people are lucky to have one or two best friends, but I get to say that about 12 people I love.” He looks around the table, smiling softly at each of the members present. “So, no. I’m not surprised at all.”

Seungkwan can almost hear the fangirls screaming in the distance at Jeonghan’s sweet, sweet lie.

He peeks down at his right hand, which he’s kept under the table for most of the show, and recalls how the notes had appeared while they were in the car waiting for Jihoon to come back from the cafe. His eyes had widened, and he watched his mark with rapt attention while Seokmin did the same, trying to hum along to the notes but not quite getting there. Jeonghan just held his hands on his lap, smiling down at the mark as his left thumb rubbed over it. None of them had really paid attention to the way Joshua just kept scrolling through his phone, not noticing the music notes at all.

Seungkwan totally forgot to ask Jihoon if he saw the mark move. Would that have anything to do with him coming out sans food?

Seokmin quickly recovers from Jeonghan’s answer, playfully pushing at his shoulder. “Wahhh, so sappy, hyung!”

Laughing, Jeonghan pushes Seokmin back. “You’re right, Seokmin. The universe must’ve made a terrible mistake— none of you brats deserve my love!”

Everyone laughs, Seungkwan joining in once he realizes he should, and the host flips a page on his script. “Ah, you all seem so close. It’s no wonder you are platonic soulmates.”

At the word ‘soulmates’, Jihoon smiles again, a little wider as he looks down at his lap. Seungkwan can’t see from across the table, but he can bet dollars to doughnuts Jihoon’s looking at his mark.

Okay. Let the investigation begin.

⭒

Hansol Vernon Chwe takes great pleasure in the way Jihoon jumps out of his skin when Vernon spins around in his swivel chair like a villain in an evil lair. The only thing that would make this better would be if he had a cat in his arms so he could be the true epitome of cartoon antagonist.

He’s only in Jihoon’s studio, though, camped out there ever since Seungkwan’s cryptic message about Jihoon hiding something soulmate-related. 

You’re his favourite, he texted. Get him to spill. But be subtle.

“Shit, Vernon.” Jihoon clutches his chest, his phone trapped there under his fingers. His other hand is still on the doorknob from the way he was ready to flee the fuck out of there when Vernon surprised him as soon as he turned the lights on. “How long have you been sitting there?”

Vernon pretends to inspect his nails. “Oh, not long. How about you, hyung? Did the radio show go well?”

“It was… fine.” Jihoon lowers his hand from his chest, suspicious. “Why?”

“No specific reason. Can’t I just check in on my favourite hyung?”

“After waiting in my studio with the lights off like a creep?”

Vernon tilts his head, putting a hand over his heart. “A creep? Ouch, bro. That hurts.”

Groaning, Jihoon rolls his eyes, but a pinging noise coming from his phone makes his eyes widen. He immediately brings the phone up to his face, almost comically close to his nose. “Shit,” he whispers to himself with a hint of self doubt and a dash of desperation in his voice. “No no no, wait. No. Shit.”

Curious, Vernon looks up at Jihoon. “What’s up?”

Jihoon ignores him, still speaking to himself. “What do I say?”

“Who is it?” Vernon stands from the chair and takes a step towards Jihoon.

Eyes darting up, Jihoon hides the face of his phone against his chest again and curls to the side, using his body as a shield. “No one.”

Vernon raises an eyebrow and steps even closer. “No one?”

“No one!”

Jihoon backs himself into the door of his studio, trapped between Vernon and a hard place. 

There are only two people Vernon can think of that would make Jihoon react like this to their texts.

One: IU

And two: well, the person who’s stirred up all of their lives like chaos soup.

“Y’know, hyung, it seems to me like you’re in a rough spot,” Vernon says, holding in a chuckle when Jihoon sneaks another glance at his phone. “I could help you figure out what to say.”

Jihoon gulps, looking up at him. “Really?”

He smirks. “At a price, of course.”

Jihoon’s brows pinch together, and he glares at Vernon for half a second before sighing out through his nose. “What kind of price?”

“Nothing big. Just this—” He puts his hands up in air quotes. “— ‘nobody’s’ number.”

Jihoon looks like he’s about to refuse (adamantly), but another ping from his phone plays, and as soon as he reads it, he shoves his phone in Vernon’s face.

“Fine. Help me. Please.”

Triumphant, Vernon takes Jihoon’s phone and plops back down in the swivel chair to read back on the messages to and from the unsaved number.

I’ll pay you back for the shirt

[unknown] [email protected]

?

[unknown] You can send the money to this account

Oh What if I can't 

[unknown] …?

Uh I can’t transfer money digitally

[unknown] why not?

I don’t believe in banks?

[unknown] you… don’t believe in banks [unknown] look, if you didn’t want to pay me back, you could just like. not answer [unknown] you don’t have to waste both of our time with dumb lies [unknown] just forget it

Vernon looks up at Jihoon, whose ears have burned bright red at this point. “Holy crap dude. You’re more hopeless than I thought.”

“You don’t think I know that? Help me!”

“I know I was playing coy and not naming names…” Vernon shakes his head slowly; he can’t believe what he’s reading. “...but please tell me you’re not flubbing it this hard with our soulmate.”

Jihoon tries to defend himself. “I am not flubbing—” He cuts himself off when Vernon raises his eyebrow again. Stupid pronounced features. “Okay, yes, I’m messing up and maybe I found our soulmate this morning and maybe I poured coffee on them and maybe I feel like every rational thought has left my brain and now I can’t even text like a normal human being and you said you’d help me so help me!”

Vernon rubs his chin thoughtfully. “Fixing this might take some drastic measures…” Frowning, he blinks once and looks back up at Jihoon. “Wait, what do you mean you poured coffee on them?”

“It’s a long story— now say something with your ENFP ass before they block me!”

“This is gonna take more than a text.” Vernon stands from the chair, presses something on Jihoon’s phone screen, then turns it to face him.

Jihoon’s eyes widen at the sight: the entire screen taken over by an outgoing call to the unsaved number. Frantically, he whisper-yells, “How is this helping?!” even though their soulmate hasn’t picked up yet.

Vernon puts one hand on Jihoon’s shoulder. “Do you trust me?”

“No!”

But Jihoon doesn’t have the time to tackle Vernon and get his phone back like his brain so helpfully supplies as plan A. Your voice, quiet but undeniably yours, sounds from his phone’s speaker.

“Hello?”

⭒

“And he goes, ‘I don’t believe in banks’,” you recount to your friend, whose face takes up your phone’s screen while it sits on your bed. You were tidying up your room when he video-called you to ask how your interview went. “Banks, Heejun. Banks!”

“The hell…? Maybe he’s one of those weird apocalypse survivalist bros.”

You scoff. “In this economy? I bet he payed for that stupid coffee with a credit card.”

“Probably,” Heejun says, nodding along while he watches you fold laundry. “Was he cute?”

Your brows furrow, and you frown at your phone. “Why should that matter?”

Heejun shrugs. “Dunno. Kinda sounds like you went through a romcom meet-cute. A fucked up meet-cute, but still.”

Unable to discount his logic, you tilt your head to the side and try to remember coffee guy’s face. “He was wearing a mask… so I couldn’t really tell. Oh, I guess he was on the shorter side, but that’s pretty much all I can remember.”

“Short… red flag.”

“Get you and your toxic masculinity out of here.”

Cracking a smile, Heejun wags a finger at you. “So you’re saying you’re into short guys?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” you retort with a barely veiled smile on your own face, relaxed now that the interview process is over. Either you get the job, or you don’t. It’s out of your hands now. “You know what is a red flag? His aversion to banks! I mean, what’s with that?”

“Maybe he’s allergic to electricity.”

“Heejun, in what world—”

His forehead gets covered by an incoming call from an unsaved number, but you recognize it.

“Oh,” you say. “He’s calling me.”

“Coffee guy?”

You nod. “Should I answer?”

“Get your turtleneck money, bub. You heard Smash Mouth— get the show on, get paid!”

Rolling your eyes at him, you say, “Okay, I’m hanging up, nerd.”

You end the call with Heejun and press answer to the unsaved number, bringing your phone up to your ear. “Hello?”

Nothing.

“Hello…?”

You hear some shuffling on the other end of the line, and maybe some hushed whispers, but nothing you can make out.

“If you’re trying to be funny, it’s not working—”

“Hi!” the slightly familiar voice of coffee guy filters through the phone, and you wait for him to say more, but he doesn’t.

“...Hi.” You switch your phone to your other ear. “Listen, I know I was a little intense at the cafe, but I really don’t think it’s unreasonable to ask—”

“I can pay you back! I can.”

“Okay… the email I sent you—”

“Could we, uh, meet up in person? I can give you cash.”

You’re not the best at identifying red flags, but this sure feels like one. “Because you don’t believe in banks?”

“Uhhhh…” He pauses. “...Yes. But also… we could meet in a cafe? So I can replace your drink too.”

You raise your eyebrows, knowing he can’t see it. “That’s not necessary—”

“I want to.” Some more rustling in the background. “I mean— it’s… my bad? I’d— I’d like to by you a drink.”

It’s not one of your habits to meet up with weird guys who pour coffee on people and don’t believe in banks, but for some reason, you feel weirdly flattered. “That’s the kind of line I’d usually hear in a bar.”

Coffee guy clears his throat, and you wonder if he looks as flustered as he sounds. “So… would you…?”

Sighing, you debate between your options. Meet a weirdo once and get the money back for your nicest turtleneck with the possibility of him not bringing the money at all and/or murdering you and wearing your skin as a suit because stranger danger… or avoid the situation entirely and pay for the dry-cleaning yourself.

Well, like Heejun said, if you don’t get the show on, you won’t get paid.

“Fine,” you say after a couple seconds, and you swear you hear a relieved exhale on the other end of the line. “But I’m picking the cafe and time. My friend works there, and if you try anything, he’ll beat you up.”

(Heejun wouldn’t hurt a fly if it personally wronged him, but coffee guy doesn’t need to know that.)

“Great!” he breathes out, completely glossing over the threat. “That’s great! Just, uh— text me the address!”

“I will. Just one question.”

“Uh huh?”

“Are you allergic to cats?”

⭒

When Vernon returns to the dorms, Seungkwan pulls him to the side and whispers, “So? What did you find out?”

Vernon stuffs his phone in the back pocket of his jeans, and the tiniest of smiles appears on his lips. He quickly puts on a straight face. “Nothing, sorry. You must’ve been seeing things.”

Seungkwan’s jaw drops. He gawks in disbelief as one of his best friends claps him twice on the shoulder and walks off.

You can’t trust anyone these days.

prev ⭒ chapter five (3.2k) ⭒ next

updates for and the universe said, are not on a schedule. there is no taglist. thank you for reading!

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[aliteral-ghost]

This is the piece I did for @hermitzine! It was so much fun to be a part of this project and get to work with everyone! The theme of this zine was music and I hope that's obvious in this piece :)

~~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of the record skipping is Joe’s alarm clock this morning, and it’s only because it skips multiple times that he actually gets up. Darn, he slept in again, and now he has to stay up late again so he can finish the parts of the machine that he needs to get done, and it’ll just end with him sleeping in again. At least he has–oh. The record that has been playing all night (and also for the past few weeks, if he’s honest) has a massive groove in it, tearing through all of the ridges and splintering the vinyl.

“Aw, man,” Joe mutters, staring at the destroyed disk in his hands. “That’s my last one of those.” To be fair, he probably should have expected something like this to happen after using the record player while placing hundreds of blocks of sand, but it’s still sad. To be fair, this has happened to the last five disks he overplayed, but Joe is nothing if not persistent. 

The next day he and Cleo are halfway through their weekly crafting session when they hum. “No music today?” Joe waves a hand.

“Some days the best music is the sound of nature around you.” He sets down a pencil and listens to said sound of nature, which is currently someone very violently chopping down trees. “You know, be in the moment, and all that.” He’s never lived in the moment once in his life and they both know it, but then again neither has Cleo.

“Sure.” Cleo pauses for just a minute. “Not this music, though. Ugh, who is…” They both glance over across the river, where Keralis is hard at work collecting wood. He pauses briefly to wave once he’s noticed them looking, smiling widely. They both wave back and Keralis continues, moving on to the next tree.

“Do you ever think about how our lives have a soundtrack?” Joe says after a minute, mindlessly coloring the sheets of paper he brought, tracing out the blueprint for a part of the pinball machine. Cleo looks over from where she’s drawing in her own notebook. 

“No?” They say, voice lilting up like a question. “I don’t? Why, do you?” She wrinkles her eyebrows, more focused on the calligraphy than really focusing on the conversation. It’s how they roll, most weeks. Joe talks and Cleo nods along.

“Well, sure! I like to think about the song that might be playing while things are happening. For a while, it was otherside, but…” Cleo glances over again, this time more interested. 

“You broke all of your disks, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. I must have played them in the sand too much or something. Whomp, whomp.” He follows the statement up with a laugh, sort of high-pitched and frantic. “D’you think we all have different soundtracks then, if we do?”

“Oh, for sure,” Cleo says, in a voice that still sounds like they’re just humoring him. “Like Doc? His soundtrack is all scary, like heavy metal, right? There’s no way he and Scar have the same backing tracks.” They pause for just a second. “No, I lied. Doc’s isn’t heavy metal, he’s too much of a softie. Pearl’s is. She’s bloody hardcore.”

That’s an accurate assumption, Joe guesses. He hasn’t been privy to much Pearl has done this season, but he’s fairly certain she just built an entire Ender dragon out of pilfered dragon eggs. If there’s someone able to intimidate Cleo, it’s her.

“So what’s yours, then?” Cleo asks, setting her pen down and leaning on her hands. “Whatever song you’re obsessed with now over and over?”

“I don’t have much time for anything else.” Joe laughs again. “Besides, sometimes the best soundtrack is the same song, over and over, just played at different tempos depending on mood.”

This earns him a patented Cleo lookTM as she turns back to her journal, picking up a small knife. They don’t talk for a while after that, instead listening to the leaves rustle, water flow, and trees topple. 

“Here,” they say eventually, after the wood-collecting has gotten to be too much, and pass Joe a record. “Put this on, I know you’re aching to.” He gasps, energy he hasn’t felt in a while jolting through him, and pulls out his jukebox. 

“Thanks, Cleo!”

The aforementioned record is a simple piano tune, the melody and harmony weaving in and out of each other’s path, spinning down the river and floating high into the air. It fills the server with its music, and although Joe knows that the little song is barely reaching further than Keralis he’d like to think that Tango, in the depths of Decked Out 2, and False, high up on a snowy peak, and Grian and Doc, fighting their battles over the perimeter, can hear it. 

It’s a song that, although the notion is cliche, feels like home. It has managed to encapsulate the feeling that persists, from all ten years of Hermitcraft, of family and friends and feeling like belonging.

#hermitcraft #hermitzine #joe hills #zombie cleo #music