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ladyclwriter · 2 years

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Morpheus Imagine

I Did Something Bad

Dream of the endless x gn!nightmare!reader

"Enemies" to lovers

Summary: Morpheus had to go after the not-so-new major arcana, just like the other ones. He forgot the fact that this one was the only one who spoke to him like an equal. And, just like a century ago, you argued, as you wanted to spoke up for your kind needs — and for yours too.

Discussion, bad words, angst+fluff, creatorxcreation kiss(?)

A/n: heavily inspired by “I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain”. Blame Taylor Swift

He still remembered the ceremony. The brand new major arcana being welcomed by its partners, siblings, relatives, or whatever four nightmares could call each other. That odd small humanly-beast figure, standing in the middle of the hall, holding back happy tears. He also remembered how cold, stiff he was in that time. How he treated it all as a formality, how he didn't saw the emotions on the monster's red eyes. Or maybe he just ignored it.

He didn't had much time to figure out the intense nightmare he created. Three years later, he got imprisoned. Even if he lived that century with freedom, he knew he wouldn't saw it either.

But, to every bad thing, there's a good consequence.

Because now he was there, standing, watching the not so beast thing walk out of a big building. Well, he only knew it was the nightmare for the fact that he could feel it. Otherwise, he would never expect that the long claws, the spiky dark fur, the lion mane, crocodile tail, shark teeth and bird nose would turn into a such apleasing-to the-eyes-full-humanly-body. But he knew that nothing in that being was human. In his soul, he did know. It was a part of him. A little slice of his power, an extension from the Dreaming. There, walking with a proud smile in the middle of the crowd.

Thunder echoed distantly, waking him up from his own thoughts. He didn't expected for him to be so uneasy about this approach. Surely that one was the easiest of all four. This one, he could track down. And it didn't had as much as resentment as the others. Still, he was there. Hesitant.

His steps were slow, not caring about following the nightmare's pace. He tried to silent his own mind, as his soul screamed louder and louder while the distance decreased. A part of him. A very young, wild and unpredictable one.

“Holy shit.” the nightmare said loudly, stopping its own walk. Morpheus did the same. “Holy fucking endless shit”.

When you turned around, the Lord Of Dreams would never imagine that his small weird beast would become such an eye-catching human in the waking realm. For a little second, he regretted using his powers to create it as the monsterly nightmare. But it was just a second.

“Morpheus.” you said it in a different way. None of you knew how or why, but it was different. No one would pronounce it's own creator's name like this. “I knew you were free, but... I never thought you would look out for me.”

“You are one of the major arcanas. Of course I would search for you just like the others.” you forgot how his voice sounded like. For some reason, you felt it reverberate in your fake body. It made you shiver from head to toe. “May I ask what you were doing in there?”

Your smirk was genuine, but you looked away from him. “No, you can't. I bet you could know the answer without questioning. And I'm sure you already know it wasn't anything good.” you didn't said in a rude way. It was just the truth. Nor that it should be easy to talk to your lord like this.

“Why? Why am I supposed to expect the worse of you?” you chuckle. Arms crossed, stared in his dark eyes. There was so many answers you wanted to give him. So many things you could actually use against him. Your tongue was tickling, mind rushing.

“You must've heard about the things my brother has been doing.” something on his face changed. Not exactly changed. He was emotionless, as always. But his eyes were certaintly more expressive. “We had only three years, but you must remember how he was the one I most got along with. Other than that...”

You hated to say it. One step closer, without looking at him again. You couldn't avoid getting heavy bad feelings whenever you admitted the fact.

“You created me. You know exactly how my inner is. You know my soul as much as I don't know yours.” your voice was low, face as harsh as your words. You broke the distance between your face and his, only inches away, staring at his eyes. “So fuck off. I'm not going back to the Dreaming.”

Simply, you cut all the chitchat he wanted to give you. With the intimacy a creation can have with it's creator, and all the disrespect too.

Morpheus was a pure rock, standing without any sight of emotion. But, inside of his mind, he trembled. Angry, feeling powerless as he noticed how, yes, not even one single being that once he ruled would obey him now. Not even Lucienne would be as obedient as she was before. Nothing would be like a century ago. It was obvious, but something inside him broke everytime he noticed this becoming a fact. And that, that was the last spark to make him snap.

“Who do you think you are?”

You knew what was coming. You didn't stepped back, you didn't hesitated. But you were scared. Afraid. He's your creator, yes. He is your lord, your master. You only lived with him for three years, and for a hundred one, he was captivated. Who knows what was going through his mind?

He wasn't any different from the first time you saw him, when you received the breath of life. He was still tall, plain, so powerful that not even the ground could handle it alone. And now, he was angry. More than on all the arguments you had before — countless ones.

“I got away for an century, but I'm back now. And I'm still your lord. You should refer to me as it.” his normally rough voice sounded more harsh. You could feel it inside your body, echoing with the loud thunders. “Ask for forgiveness.”

“Don't make me tell you to fuck off again, Morpheus.”

“I never gave you permission to call me by my name.” rougher.

“What should I call you then? Oneiros?”

The world stopped. The rain didn't fell, all the crowd around seemed to freeze. You didn't had a heart, but something inside you skipped a beat. You regretted instantly. He stared intensely in your eyes, cosmos and supernovas exploding on his iris — exploding inside you. He didn't moved an inch; yet, you felt your body burning. Your inside getting unmade, his power coming back to him.

“I would rather not see life's light anymore, than coming back to that fucking realm.” your voice was louder. People started to look at you two, as you started sweating and trembling. Your being was getting shattered with his anger.

“It is your duty to stay at the Dreaming. You were made to it. If you don't want to do your job, then, yes-” he didn't wanted to say that. “You won't see life's light anymore.”

You weren't scared. Getting unmade was better than getting tortured (what an angry Endless would do to torture another immortal being? You didn't wanted to figure out), or forced to come back to your duties. You wouldn't give up, even as you felt life run out of your body, you still would fight for, well, yourself. “You can live, Morpheus. You loved, hated, celebrated and cried. But not us.”

“We are doomed to a cruel eternity. You made us this way. To suffer, and to punish, but this is not fair!” tears popping in your eyes, you raised one hand, pointing a finger to him. “You want to talk about duty? About being a lord? Then why you never thought about this? About us?!”

About all the ugly nightmares he made before. About the most funny one, Corinthian. About the sweet Gault. About the serene Fiddler's Green. And all the others.

“I don't care about your name, nor who you are. You never gave me any respect or even attention. You were never here, you never cared about me.” opening your arms wide, you laughed at the irony and misery these words carried. “So yeah, fuck off! Three times!”

“It wasn't my fault.” at this point, he didn't cared. About being polite or respected. His power stopped getting in action, you breathing in and out slowly, feeling yourself complete again. “You and your partners really believed I was gone by my own will?”

Your brother was the very first one of you to know the news. He also were the only one to get involved with the raptors. You didn't supported him on that, but didn't went against it too. You were still confused how your creator could be captured so easily. Above that, all of sudden you were free, as Corinthian said.

“I'm not talking about this century, Morpheus. I'm talking about my three first years of life. About all the life of my, partners, as you said.” it was surprising that he didn't got your point, and you showed it with your tone. “You always neglected my kind. You simply never cared about any of us.”

“That is not true.”

“Yes it is!” said way too loud. You looked around as people stared at you, and gave them a little smile; most of them familiar faces. It wasn't the first time you were partying in that district. “I had enough time to talk to all of them. Everyone complained about the same thing. How none of us wanted the duty you gave us; how we envied every single being that could actually live.”

He knew that. Deep down, in that little place where all his creations were connected to him, he knew and felt everything you said. And that made you angrier.

“Fucking hell, I don't even know if you care! Tell me, Morpheus, am I talking all of this only for you to ignore?” you lowered your voice, frowning with vulnerability.

He only kept looking at you, always in your eyes. Took a deep breath, and swallowed his pride down his throat.

“What do you want me to do, then?” he shrugged. “If I turn all the nightmares into dreams, or let them live in the waking world. What will be of the bad men you need to haunt? I would have to create new nightmares, only to have the same issues?”

“I don't fucking care about being rational right now, Morpheus!” you almost screamed. One drip of rain fell in your cheek, but you kept looking at him, offended. “Just fucking try to feel something! Just... Fucking pretend to, at least!”

“Lower your voice.” it was a command.

“No. I'm not lowering my voice. I'm not fucking holding me back!” demonstrated it with your body, with exaggerated gestures. “I'm not turning into your subordinate. We shouldn't be ruled like this. Tell me, do you fucking treat dreams like you treat us?”

He rolled his eyes.

He fucking rolled his eyes.

And you raised an arm. Fist closed, trembling in the air, as in a little second you realized what you were going to do — he wasn't one of the assholes you bumped into the clubs. And he made you feel it again, sending a wave of shock inside you. You shivered as the cold rain started pouring, accompanying your own body getting electrified by your creator's powers.

“You have only two choices. Returning with me to the Dreaming, or saying goodbye to all of this.” he raised his hand, ignoring your closed fist. With his palm turned to the raining sky, he stared at you. “What do you want to come back? I shall give you.”

You weren't prepared for this answer. It was fucking democracy, and that you didn't expected. But, instead of being a good thing, it made your tears come harder. “You still don't get it”.

You put down your arm, giving two steps back. Biting your lip, you looked away, trying to not get too emotional, even if it was quite impossible to you.

“We want what all of you have. Freedom to live. To laugh, and cry, and drink, and fuck. I mean, we can still work before getting fun, right? Isn't it what all of this people have been doing?” you looked around.

Drunk friends walking side by side with a business man. People with briefcases, others with bags, others in uniforms. Coming to or from work. A man in a suit even walked by, talking on the phone that he was going straight to a bar.

“But, above all of this...” you stared at the ground, feeling his gaze upon you. Hugged yourself, starting to get wet from the rain. “I think... All we need is your attention.”

Dark eyes narrowed, analyzing the one who still kept staring at the ground. His many years of experience and wiseness were speaking louder.

“A 'thank you'. Or, 'well done'. Anything would be enough. I mean, before. Not now.” you bite your lip, hesitating, words burning to be said. “Now, I don't know. But... I know all this time we all missed you.”

Then you looked at him again. Didn't expected anything at all, and that what you received. Emotionless as always. But the little tease on his tone; “Really? Everyone?” made you rise an eyebrow.

“Yeah. Everyone.” including me, it meant. Taking a deep breath, you smiled, rain soaking both of you.

Dream was thinking. Deeply pondering. His gaze darted off, lost on his thoughts, unreadable. He did recognize he neglected the nightmares, and this one was special. A new creation he didn't got time to settle in, and didn't got the best examples. Then, he just sighed. “What do you want from me?”

You weren't ready for it. Realization hit you, you actually were looking for that question without knowing. You opened your mouth, speechless, staring at his black coat as you couldn't raise your eyes. There was a lot of things you could ask, but you couldn't think or say anything.

“Attention?” he suggested, even if it was insensitive. “Freedom?”

Your eyes lit up with hope and happiness, getting closer again, looking at him like a pleading dog. “I swear I will do my job. Just... Just give me free time here. To all of us.” you didn't noticed your arrogance getting washed with the rain. “And take care of us like you do with all the Dreaming.”

“I can't make promises for all the nightmares, but I swear I'll think about what you said.” this time you felt a bit of kindness in his tone, but he was still like a stone, even under the rain. “Now, please, talk about yourself. I'll give your freedom, but it'll take time. These are your wishes only?”

“I...” you hesitated. Blinking fast, looked away, a little red coming to your face. Dream got concerned about what was coming, but his silent got filled with curiosity. “We didn't had much time together. So... I would like to ask for it too.”

“You want time with me?” he wanted for you to be specific, you noticed. That made you stare angrily, almost pissed off. “Perhaps I can arrange it. Would that be all?”

You were going to give him some of your characteristic poison at his curiosity and subtle attempt to make you confess whatever he thought you wanted, but you gave up. There were more important things to me talked about there, under the rain.

“I'm sure you're not asking any of this shit to the others. Why me? Why I'm the only one with options and requirements?” crossed arms, raising an eyebrow. He shifted his weight on his feet, and looked away for a second.

“You are young. I know my mistakes with the others, and I also know all of them pretty well.” then his gaze changed. Something became softer; whether it was for the subject, or any thought of his. “I want to try with you. To be present and to listen to you. This way, I'll be better with the next nightmares. I hope you're okay with that.”

Yes, yes you were. More than you could possibly expect you to be. It was frustrating to see yourself giving up from all your walls, so desperate for any sign of affection from him. “With what? Being your scapegoat for redemption? No, I'm not okay with that. But it's better than nothing”.

And he smiled. Subtly, only one corner lifting, his eyes with fondness. Damn, you weren't ready to see him smiling for the very first time. He seemed to notice that, and got even more amused.

He lifted a hand, slowly placing it in your cheek. And with thunder and cold breezes, you felt your face burn. Locked your gaze on his, surprised, frozen by the first physical contact you both have ever shared.

“I'm genuine. I do want to try. So, please, allow me to.” you could barely breathe as his expressions were actually expressive, not the old plain thing. It was a lot, seeing him being emotional for the first time. “Forgive me for my absence. Captured or not. All I want is to redeem myself.”

With the other hand, he used the tip of his fingers, gently, to brush some sticky wet hair out of your forehead. You almost stepped back, still processing that he was actually touching you. “Is there anything else I can give you? I do not wish to buy your forgiveness; earn it, perhaps. I'm just trying to be...”

“Kind?” you suggested as he didn't seem to find the word. He agreed with a smile that made you shake from head to toe. And guess what? He got worried. “I'm fine. It's just the rain.”

“The sky is certainly pouring, you should go. I'm sorry for interrupting your plans, shall we meet tomorrow?” you agreed with your head after long-lasting seconds of trying to think. “Thank you for this opportunity. Now, if you allow me...”

Holy fucking endless shit, you thought. Only thought, because you couldn't even move, completely paralyzed with shock.

The Lord of the Dreams was embracing you. Arms in wet cloth squeezed tight, and you could feel his chin above your head, rain falling down his body to yours, and to the ground. You felt everything. Your senses became totally aware, could hear every breath and feel every touch — whether from the raindrops, or his. All at once, you got yourself remembering every time you imagined this moment. The moment you would feel Morpheus. When you would touch him, and be certain that, yes, he is not just a dream. He's real. And he's there.

He was there. You felt it as you wrapped your arms around his waist. It was not imagination or daydreams, it was Dream itself, chest moving against your face on his wet overcoat as he breathe. Then, just for the sake of humor — or because you said your thoughts without noticing —, you whisper: “I could totally kiss you right now.”

He was surprised. Of all kinds of requests and curious things a nightmare could ask, a kiss would never be on the list. But, well, there was nothing bad that could happen. Actually, he would win way much more with it than you. So he touched your face again. Gently, raising your eyes to his. You couldn't believe it, and you couldn't react to it.

It felt like slow motion as he approached your faces, closing his eyes as if it wasn't an unexpected and uncomfortable moment. You froze as your lips touched under the rain. He was delicate, taking his own time to adjust to you, and for you to adjust to him. You didn't had to move for your lips to fit perfectly, Morpheus taking yours on his, slow and focused, waiting for you.

And you answered it.

Hands on his shoulders, which started sliding to different places as you took his lips hungrily. Not because you were crazy to have him in a bed, but for the fact that you wanted to feel more of him.

He's here, you kept repeating to yourself. He's finally here.

None of you cared when tongues started locking, both exploring and dancing. Your hands touched where they were allowed — wet neck, hair, face, under the coat to reach the back, down the arms to the hands —, never stopping and never getting enough. Dream was calm, cupping your face on his hands, then sliding one down to your waist. You only parted when air ran out your lungs, not opening your eyes as you breathe still close to each other. You almost, almost held his hand, tugging on the sleeve, the other one craving nails at the wet cloth of his shoulders. He's here, repeating in your mind. And he, he was smiling, leaning towards your forehead.

“We have a lot to talk about.” he whispered. “In our next meeting, of course. Not now, under the rain”.

You couldn't answer. Feelings swirled on your mind, so many things to process and register. But you smiled. You smiled because you were happy. He's here.

“I called you by Morpheus a lot of times.” whispered too, recognizing the delicacy of the moment.

“Don't let anyone know this. It will be our secret.” damn, you liked how he said it.

But it was time to leave. You both looked like stray wet cats, the streets only filled by people with umbrellas or cars. Thunders and lightings were violent, the rain getting heavier. You would stay there forever anyways. But he was moving away, feeling as fingers slide to release each other. And as he got away, your feelings were being taken from you. Stay, you wanted to say. You were gone for one century; please, stay.

“We must part our ways now. Don't worry, I said I would give you whatever you asked. I'll do it.” he meant you would see each other again. It was a promise, a vow. Something you both wanted to believe. A little spark of hope, something new and, in some sort of way, naive, to take care of.

As you didn't answered, he only agreed with his head, bowing slightly. Avoiding your look, sand rose from the ground, swirling around him with raindrops.

“Morpheus! I... I did something bad.” his gaze instantly fell upon you, the sand slowing down. “I killed and I gutted. Only bad men! But I did it.”

His face could fall to the ground. He was shocked, horrified. Disappointed. And he made sure you would notice that. Then he faded in sand, not caring if ordinary people would see it. You stood there. Soaked wet, confused. But smiling. Smiling like a fool, touching your lips, not believing what just happened.

Maybe killing men wasn't the something bad you did.

I know, that's a lot of rain. I thought about making it rain later, but, hey, who doesn't love pneumonia?

Please please pleeease, tell me what you think about this. About the reader, about my representing of Morpheus, anything. I really need your opinions.

Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did!

And as I always say, English is not my first language and I'm a self-taught. Please forgive any grammatical errors. See ya! 💙

#the sandman #the sandman imagine #morpheus imagine #Morpheus x reader #dream x reader #dream of the endless #tom Sturridge #Spotify #rain was a paid actor #enemies to lovers #idk how to write an angry Morpheus sorry #emo endless toxic behavior #Taylor Swift

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betterthanyalls · 10 months

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Wsp, I’m craving angst with my self insert and dream guy. So like, lets chow down ig. I can make a y/n and crush version idrc lol. <333 ilyyyyy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Why did you do it?! What made you think I would like that?!” The rain pelted down as Rosa held her tears back. Her words full of anger and betrayl.

“I….I….don’t know…” Benjamin stared at the ground with his soaking clothes clinging to his form. He wasn’t sure what to do. He didn’t think this would happen.

“You should’ve expected something like this to happen. I can’t believe I was so oblivious! Why did I ever believe you were the one?” Rosa turned away and started walking away from Benjamin. Tears fell from her eyes like the rain fell from the clouds. She held her arms to her chest to try and keep some warmth.

“What….so you’re just going to walk away?! Like you always do?! You always run away from your problems Rosa!!” Benjamin shouted with venom. He glared at Rosa’s figure that was standing still in the cold rain. Even at 100 feet away, he could see her shivers from the cold.

“Do you want to know my problem? The problem I tried to face head on?” Rosa spoke quietly but still loud enough from Benjamin to hear. She turned her head slightly. “My problem….was that I loved you. And I hate myself that I couldn’t even tell you. I tried but I was and still am a coward. So there you go. My problem was my feelings for you. I love you, Benjamin. But it’s now obvious that you don’t care for me as I care for you.” Rosa then kept walking away. Not stopping to turn back to see his reaction. She had an internal battle of running back to him and hugging him. To apologize for everything that went wrong. To say how she truly felt at the moment. To tell him everything. But alas, she kept walking until she was out of his sight.

Benjamin stood there, shocked. He couldn’t believe it. The girl he liked for so long….liked him back?? God he was such an idiot! How could he ever yell at her like that?? She never deserved someone as bad as him. He sunk to his knees and sat on the soaked concrete beneath him. He hugged his kneese close as he was lost in thought. How could he ever yell at her like that? He was such a mean person. He lost his only chance to explain his love. He lost his love…

#self insert #crush tag #dream guy #angsty #angst #crush #random #rain was a paid actor

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jjkeverlast · 11 months

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LMFAO ITS POURING WHEN I WALKED OUT 💀💀 thank god that seven is playing in my ears and that i can feel myself instead of hating on the rain.

#the rain is a paid actor #lati updates

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twomrw · 2 years

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I’m honestly so proud of myself...I started learning to play in the end of December last year and I can’t wait ‘til I can play the whole thing in a flowy dress and sound like Gigi.

#pride and prejudice soundtrack #dawn #pride and prejudice #piano beginner #music #twomrw #the birds and the rain were paid actors #recorded June 15 2022 #original

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femmehysteria · 1 year

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iraq is currently beating saudi

saudi beat argentina in the wc group stages

so if iraq win theyve technically beat the world champions, simple maths

#gulf cup #iraq #the torrential rain in basra rn is a paid actor

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predestinatos · 7 months

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too cold | MV1 ⋆꙳❅ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

pairing: max verstappen x female!reader

summary: stormy weather leads to stormy thoughts about a years long friendship.

tags: best friends to lovers, soo cheesy, fluff, giddy max, super whipped for reader!!, wearing his sweater, just so much softness!

author's note: i dreamt about max for some reason and he's been living in my head rent free so... i had to let this out!! hope you like it. it's a short cute thing so..!

word count: 3.5k

warnings: -

It was cold and stormy that day. You had expected it, the forecasts all telling you the same thing, your hair completely tangled in itself as soon as you stepped out of the house into the car.

You planned it all, including getting there earlier, so you could spend as much time with Max as possible – you never skipped the pleasant silence of his presence at least once a week. What you hadn’t planned was for you two to get carried away with taking buzzfeed quizzes and personality tests to the point where it was dark outside, the storm more aggressive, more threatening, and more dangerous.

“Shit,” you muttered when the wind outside made the windows tremble with extreme force, their sound almost like a warning voice in the night. “How am I going home like this?” you asked yourself out loud, desperate and scared, as Max completed yet another ‘What’s Your Mental Age Based on Your Choice of Cutlery’ quiz. He glanced outside nonchalantly, almost carelessly, as if the question was ridiculously easy to answer, close to ironic.

Before going back to the seriousness of the questions at hand, he shrugged, shoulders going up and down in explicit tranquility. “You can stay over” he stated, his finger hovering over a weirdly shaped spoon that said ‘shit stirrer’ on its surface. You let out a breath that indicated his joke was funny yet not useful in the slightest given your current dilemma, to which he looked at you and laughed back, assuming you were amused at the choice of teaspoon he had just made. “Max, I’m serious” you voiced your urgency and fear with those words. “Me too” he continued, eyes glued on the screen, yet slightly confused at your own comment.

At your audible sigh and attempt to get up from his bed, where you comfortably laid scrolling through your phone for options, he turned around from his chair which was facing the screen. “You’re not leaving” he said, in a concerned tone of a friend who refused to let you be consumed by the rapidly increasing rain. “I don’t understand what the matter is” he continued as he saw you searching through his room for your things, messily scattered on the floor, reminiscent of childhood times spent together.

You merely looked at him in response, the answer obvious to you but seemingly not to him, only hitting him hard in the face as a joke he couldn’t help but laugh at seconds later. “You always slept here” he said, astonished at your reluctance and apparent timidness. “Yeah, Max. When we were 11” you protested, tucking some hair behind your ear as you looked for your charger. “Plus, I don’t have a pajama, or spare underwear” your arms now crossed across your chest, mimicking his own, a baffled smile on his lips.

“You can wear one of my sweaters. And like, my boxers, or something” this made your mouth drop in ridiculous surprise, a fear in your eyes which he didn’t understand. “I’m serious! It’s better than you going out with this storm!” his arm pointed towards the window, the view outside a paid actor because a lightning appeared violently before both of you. With a winning grin, he finished his argument with a “C’mon I’ll let you choose the outfit.”

Opening the drawers, you let yourself take a look at the collection of multicolored sweaters organized neatly. Your eyes landed on a grey one, which looked a bit worn out but comfortable at the same time, its marks of usage being a testament to its quality. You grabbed it and noticed that it smelled like Max, like the years of friendship you two shared. “The boxers are in the other drawer” Max interrupted your thoughts, yet his indifferent air made you less awkward about this situation, almost like it was normal that this was happening, like you were both 10 again, popcorn being prepared in the small kitchen next door.

You let yourself randomly choose some of his underwear, trying your best not to look too much at it, knowing little to nothing about how to even begin choosing such a thing for yourself. The strong wind whistled outside, and Max’s fingers hit the keyboard, creating a soothing lullaby.

“I’m- uh-… going then” you said, making your way towards the bathroom as he happily nodded, the familiarity of the house being a known fact for both of you.

The truth was, Max missed you. A lot. He missed hanging out with you all night, watching really bad films and playing silly videogames, drinking some beers and enjoying yourselves. Lately, he hadn’t had the time to do all these things, let alone doing them with you, and even though he did not plan this storm in the slightest, he was glad for it. The rain came as a reminder that you two had a year long friendship you could still enjoy, the sound blending with the one coming from the bathroom as you turned on the shower.

Sleeping over only got weird given the fact that Max was a boy and you were a girl, but it shouldn’t have been like that. In his mind, nothing changed, and nothing should have to change – he still wanted you as close as he did when you two watched scary video compilations on youtube and spent all night hiding under the covers and whispering in an attempt to not ‘awake the big monster’.

He still wanted to spend time with you when you were 16 and started talking about how cute his friends were, asking him if they were single or not as you put a lollipop in your mouth and painted your nails in colorful amusement.

He still wanted you to sleep over even when his girlfriends told him they didn’t quite like the fact that he was so close with you, that he seemed to want to be with you more than with them, that he dropped everything as soon as you texted him a slightly unusual text.

And it was normal, and alright, because you were best friends, because you knew each other better than your own selves, because you’d recognize his laugh in the middle of a crowd even with noise cancelling headphones, and he would recognize the smile you made when you were flustered even if he was blindfolded.

It was also normal for him to smile to himself and feel the happiest he has felt in a while, because he missed you, and you were staying over and nothing would have felt better than knowing he had a night full of your presence.

Meanwhile, you stood in his all-too familiar shower, accepting the fact that he had no conditioner, and a shampoo would have to do for the night. Simultaneously, this made you reflect on the clear fact that he had probably had no stable, consistent, female presence in his life in a while. As the liquid dropped in your hand and you brought your hands to your hair, thoughts about previous relationships of his flooded your mind.

They never ended well, and the guilt you felt because of it was ever present. Max was the best friend you could’ve asked for, because he always picked you, no matter what. In fact, he gave it no thought nor justification, not to you or his previous relationships. He accepted the fact that you were his priority as a given, something so natural as breathing, as blood pumping through his veins. You couldn’t deny you did the same. Previous partners of yours weren’t too fond of his constant need to assess and approve of them, of how he was your emergency contact whenever anything happened, how you made sure you spent time with him at least once a week.

Feeling the foam forming on your scalp, you remembered the times where you two bathed together, the innocence of gone times flying through your head with fondness. Of course, you two grew, and while you never broke the bond that formed between you, it was also harder to continue certain traditions you maintained.

Your teenage years were filled with angst and some bickering over how uncomfortable he made your dates, or how all he did was talk about girls when you two were together. You used each other as diaries and confidantes, keeping secrets in a closed vault made of memories. Nothing really had changed besides your ages, and none of you were dating, or at least it did not seem like it.

As you washed your body with lavender scented soap, you realized this is what you were missing – the comfortability of being the most like yourself you could possibly be, alongside him.

Max stared at the “You Are 14 Years Old!” result on his computer, reading the in depth description on how that one fork gave his age away, when he heard your shout for his name coming from the now foggy bathroom, the place now looking more like Silent Hill or a liminal space. Removing one side of his headphones off, his voice echoed throughout the apartment “Yes?”, filled with softness and worry, a completely unknown care for you which wasn’t displayed by anyone else but him. Smiling to yourself, you replied, “do you seriously only own one bath towel?”

Removing both of his headphones off now, with realization hitting him and he jumped from his seat, he ran towards the drawer that possessed all the other towels he stored in organized fashion. “Shit! No! Sorry! I’m on my way!” he said urgently, grabbing one as he ran towards the bathroom, opening its door and popping only one arm in, his eyes facing the wall but also closed with affirming need to reassure you that he wasn’t looking, refused to look, would never even consider to do such a thing.

You pulled the fabric off his hand as you thanked him with a soft giggle, his previous nonchalant attitude vanishing upon the thought of seeing you naked – which you weren’t, and he would’ve realized this had he considered the fact that the bathroom possessed ONE towel, currently wrapped around your now wet body. Shivering with cold, you got yourself dry as fast as you could, while Max sat back down in his chair, cursing to himself at his clumsiness and lack of thought.

Examining yourself in the mirror as dried your hair off (after several minutes of looking for the hairdryer, not wanting to put Max through the whole ordeal of performing the biggest demonstration of respect towards one’s privacy ever witnessed) you noticed something you hadn’t before. This simple, yet incriminating item put into question your previous thoughts about Max’s lack of companionship in his home, your eyebrows furrowed and your mouth turning downwards at the thought that he was hiding something from you.

On the tiny little cup sitting on the sink, there were two toothbrushes. They were carefully put together in a magical arrangement of colors that indicated that one had to be able to tell them apart, like each had its own owner. Suddenly, the whole idea of sleeping over – hell, of wearing Max’s clothes – seemed ridiculously selfish. You had done it before, but you were adults now, and with adulthood came a sense of responsibility and respect that hit you in the face like a slap, the simple idea of an innocent sleepover with your best friend sounding absolutely childish and ridiculous.

“Max?” you called out again, a deep breath escaping your lungs as you sat down on the toilet seat, hair still slightly damp, towel still wrapped around your body upon your refusal to put his clothes on. “Yes?” he replied once again, a feeling of déjà vu invading your thoughts, a repetition of mere seconds before yet with rose tinted glasses off.

“I think it’s best if I just go home,” you muttered, even though you hadn’t moved. Realistically, the idea of going out there terrified you, but perhaps not as much as staying over, given the current situation. Putting your underwear back on after showering felt dirty, but perhaps wearing his clean one after noticing another one’s presence in his room, his life, his thoughts, made you feel even dirtier.

“Come on, I bet your outfit looks amazing” he said jokingly, assuming you were embarrassed about your current look, trying to lighten up the mood with teasing reassurance. Getting up once again, he stood near the bathroom door, head close to it as if trying to listen to the fabric against your skin, some hint of your own amused presence. All he heard was silence, one so unbelievably loud he felt something off, something wrong. “Can I come in?” he asked, his voice now more careful, more tender, and more concerned.

You only murmured in allowance, and noticed the doorknob turn as he stepped inside. “What’s up?” he asked, his eyes revealing deep concern with slight embarrassment over the painting you two were probably creating. Him, pajama pants and hoodie on, glasses now slightly foggy; you, with droplets falling down your hair as you looked down, hugging the towel tightly against your body. “I don’t want to cause any trouble” you said as you unconsciously looked back at the toothbrushes which now seemed to stare at you both accusingly, judgingly.

“Why would you- Oh,” he interrupted himself, his gaze following yours towards the same spot, his look going from confused to serious to utterly humored. “This?” he asked again, grabbing the small toothbrush from the cup, its cable a pretty yellow shade. “What’s your favorite color again?” he continued, waving the object in front of your face as you stared at it in confusion.

Looking up, you replied simply “yellow- oh,” it was your turn to interrupt yourself, now realizing how you had almost forgotten your childhood promise, yet surprised as well at the fact that he had kept it after all these years, the innocence of the act causing your heart to hurt slightly.

“It’s always been here. I mean, not the same one, obviously, but… a spare toothbrush” he explained, even though he did not have to, his hand playfully messing your hair before he headed bac towards the door. “Get dressed, silly. We have films to watch” his warm voice instructed you with tenderness before he closed the door behind him.

Stepping out of the bathroom, finally dry and dressed, you forced Max to close his eyes before looking at you. “Don’t make fun of me or I’ll leave” you threatened jokingly, as his eyes remained tightly shut with his hands in front of them dramatically. “I won’t I promise!” he claimed, yet he was already laughing, the sound of it reminding you of the years of togetherness you both shared.

“Okay, you can look” you finally gave your permission, as he took his hands off his face and blinked fast, the lights suddenly blinding him. At first, he just stared at you, expression absolutely unreadable. Then, he burst into laughter, apologizing as his giggles filled the bedroom. “I look ridiculous” you complained, the long sleeves covering your hands and flopping lazily as you did so. “No you look adorable!” he tried to protest, laughter insistent on making its way through his lips, his eyes shining with happy tears. “Adorably ridiculous” you continued, rolling your eyes and throwing yourself on the bed defeatedly, your head buried in his pillow, filled with the scent of him.

Knowing your mood would change soon, Max merely smiled to himself as he started putting a film on, the choice being the Twilight saga – easy to watch, entertaining, fun, and he could tease you about it constantly, pretending he didn’t enjoy it himself. Bags of jellybeans hit your head as he threw them towards you, in an attempt to wake you from your moody attitude. “C’mon grumpy I have beer” he poked you as he sat on the bed as well, pressing play and opening a bag which he waved in front of your face as you got up lazily.

“’I know what you are’ ‘Say it. Out loud. Say it!’ ‘Vampire’” you said the lines along with the film, echoing each and every intonation and expression. Popping a bear shaped jellybean in his mouth as he took another sip of his beer, Max interrupted your acting session by saying “can you imagine how awkward it would be if it was something else entirely and he would just be like… ‘uh no’” and laughing to himself. Your arm flew to his as you punched it angrily, despite the fact that you were giggling to yourself.

Something about getting you slightly on your nerves while also making you smile made Max feel almost at home, in a safe space without comparison, only available to him when you were around. He felt himself in a constant state of meditation whenever he was around you, his breathing naturally adjusting itself to match yours.

Instinctively, and not out of the ordinary for any of you, he grabbed your hand and played with it softly, his fingers feeling the soft texture of your skin and pinching it with playful tenderness. You never questioned it, and neither did he, this need you two had to display affection more than most friends did, the need to always be in some sort of contact with each other, to feel each other’s warmth and presence closely. Without taking his eyes off of the film, seemingly very intensely focused on Edward’s skin of a killer, he spoke up. “You don’t look ridiculous,” he said, as you held your gaze on the film, yet laughing at his comment, expecting a joke to be made about how what’s on the screen is way more embarrassing than you in his underwear. Yet he said something completely different. “You always look pretty. Very pretty” his voice was soft as he now looked at you, and you felt his gaze on your skin, your cheeks, your eyelashes, yet refused to look at him and face whatever was happening in that night.

The windows rattled once again, breaking the momentary spell that hovered in the room, hypnotizing both of you with the haze of uncertain feelings. You heard his breathing as well, heavy and nervous now, his heart racing and yours matching his, maybe because you were so deeply connected or maybe because your feelings and his were now the same shade of complexity.

You wondered if this is why you had stopped sleep overs together. Perhaps it was the fear of facing the fact that things were not as simple and easy to brush off when the clock hit 3am and his hand was on his and your head on his shoulder and you had no intention of moving. And he shared these same thoughts, realizing how that letting go of you right now would probably be the worst thing that could happen, the scariest thought that could possibly cross his mind.

All this happened in fractions of second, too short for any of you to truly acknowledge what was happening, his voice interrupting both of your thoughts as he spoke once again, “obviously not as pretty as Edward Cullen but-“ to which you rolled your eyes and laughed. “I bet he’d look better in your sweatshirt” you said, another sip of beer falling on your lips.

“Impossible” he replied, a smile on his lips, his eyes finally meeting yours and then taking your whole appearance in, your cheeks blushing shyly at how attentively he looked at you, at how his gaze seemed so tender and soft. A sudden urgency to feel his lips on yours filled your thoughts with sheer intensity that terrified you. You hadn’t seen Max that way, hadn’t considered it nor question it before, not even when your dates and boyfriends accused you of things, not when your friends commented on how you looked at him. Yet in that exact moment, something shifted completely, perhaps stirred by the storm outside, perhaps because it simply felt right in that moment to feel wrong.

“Can I kiss you?” he suddenly asked. The innocence of the question made you giggle, the contrast between his soft and careful voice and his adult look with a week old stubble making you giddy and timid as you nodded.

His lips touched yours with caution, yet with undeniable fondness that made you question why this hadn’t happened before. You felt his smile in between the kiss, the satisfaction of finally breaking this unknown wall that had existed between you for so long, and which you remained so unaware about.

Pulling away, Max’s eyes stared into yours before moving to the screen, a satisfied smile on his now slightly redder than usual lips, your own face mimicking his. “Edward Cullen could never kiss as well as you” he whispered, earning himself another soft punch, followed by 3 more films worth of kissing.

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cvntyworld · 1 month

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war of the worlds ( lucy maclean )

summary: in which a friendly yet naive to the wastelands vault dweller, offers some useful advice to a survivor that doesn't trust easy and thought vault dwellers were some myth that died out long ago. for once they decide to put their lack of trust on hold and give lucy maclean a single chance at accompanying them cross the wastelands, an offer of safe travel, because anyone who's anyone knows that vault dwellers don't survive for long up here and the small part of kindness left feels the need to help.

contains: usual fallout shenanigans, violence, character deaths, gore, cannibalism, reader kills a bird and eats it, slow burnish, strangers to friends to lovers, lucy has to stitch reader up with a metal bed spring, reader is beat up and lucy rescues them, kissing, mild language, dead dad mentions, also kinda long ngl, they also think that cooper howard is dead since he was an actor

With a mouthful of blood you grinned, teeth clenched in seething anger as you crawled towards the discarded yet worn down backpack a few feet away. The golden grains of sand turned red with each movement, wavering rains of hot red blood pouring out of your side as you reached out with trembling fingers, barely getting them to curl in on the backpack, a weak grip as you dragged it over and winced with pain, trying to breathe through it.

A harsh kick to the fleshy wound in your side caused an agonising cry to leave you, leaving you stunned against the sand, gasping out breaths as the golden grains had begun to stick to your sweating face that was pressing into the ground weakly. "Where did you think you were going?" The mocking tone pierced your ears and there wasn't even a raised voice, everything was heightened, everything hurt, but he didn't care, he would kill you or leave you bleeding out and be off with your stuff, you'd regretted taking this shortcut, the townsfolk warned of the stories of those that took the shortcut route, but in your mind it meant that there was rarely anyone here, a lone path, there would be trouble but nothing that you couldn't handle.

"You know, no matter how much those townsfolks cry and babble their stories about the shortcut to hell, the select few always think they'll have a chance." The man states, a scoff of a laugh leaving him as he turned you onto your side and pressed his solid boot down with a look of boredom when you glared up at him. "There is always someone as stupid as you that passes through and thinks they'll be just fine." Your hands reached up, nails digging into his filthy hands that blocked the air from your lungs, "It's a shame you didn't stand down, fiends would've paid good money, maybe I'll just keep you for myself, I haven't eaten in days, always thought human meat was better than an animals."

This was it, one stupid mistake and you were going to end up murdered and turned into food, as if you were nothing at all. You're whole life ending because there'd been a part of you longing for rest, a simple shortcut, townsfolks warnings ignored, you would die and not a soul would know, there was nobody to know. You stop, giving in and closing your tired eyes, this was it, you're going to die here.

"Leave them alone!"

Your eyes opened warily, head tilting to the side to see a wave of blue blur your vision. A woman stood, a strange gun trained on your attacker who turned his attention to her and laughed wheezily, an unhinged look of humour within his features. "No fucking way! A vault dweller, we haven't had one of you pass through here in a while!" A rattle of a cough sounded from him, his attention being focused on the woman dressed in blue. The grip he had on your ratty coat was dropped and your head fell back into the sands causing a winded cough to leave you, an instead hand pressing into your side as you attempt to keep pressure on the already terrible wound.

"I'll bet you've got nice skin." The man guessed and his words made your own skin crawl as he took slow steps towards the vaultie who didn't stand down, keeping an easy hand on the trigger. "I'll eat like a king tonight, you vault dwellers are always easier to skin, I promise to kill you first, last time it wasn't the easiest job skinning a gal that's still alive." His knife drew and just as he lunged at the vault dweller, she pulled the trigger, and a needle is planted right in his chest and leaves him stumbling for the few seconds he had and then he was collapsing to the sand beside you, eyes shut and unmoving. You grit your teeth together, forcing back the pain as the vault dweller approaches you cautiously. "Are you alright?" Vaultie asks with concern and a breathy laugh passes through you at the question. "Now that is a question I think you already know the answer to, Vaultie."

The vault dweller immediately shakes her head at this, as if realising her question to be a stupid one, "Sorry, here, I have a stim pack, I can help you." The woman was quick, shrugging her pack off and rummaging through it with a nervous laugh, "I'm Lucy, by the way, nice to meet you!" She greeted cheerfully and you stared at her, your brow drawing together dumbfounded at someone who kept a smile on her face despite the circumstances. The sharp needle was a familiar sight, you were used to seeing the injury pauser around but it didn't hurt any lesson when a wave of discomfort washed over you when Lucy pierced the needle into your wounded side. "You should start to feel a little better, I would offer to stitch you up but I was in a bit of a rush when I left home." You made a noise of acknowledgement, "First time on the surface, huh?" The vault dweller nodded at this, almost proud.

"I got something in my bag that'll take care of this." You stated, gesturing to the backpack nearby and Lucy has quickly grabbed it, glancing from you to the bag, "Is it a needle and thread?" She asks and you shake your head, "Not exactly, give it here." She hands you the bag with a gentle hand, helping you sit up and smiles at you when you give her a nod as thanks. Turning the backpack up, you let your contents stumble out into the sand, Lucy's smile fading in confusion as you pick apart the items, a lot of it looked to be junk, old scraps, gun parts, a box of empty bullets, a faded photograph, a canister that she'd assumed held water. A twirled piece of metal is held up, gripped in your hand, it looked clean, the cleanest thing amongst your odd supplies. Pouring some contents out of the canister, you turn to the vault dweller and hold it out to her, and that's when she finally sees what it is, an old spring, something that didn't have much use in her home, usually found in beds or furniture, this looked to be similar to the ones she would see on the trampolines when attending her gymnastics club.

She had a feeling of what you were going to ask when it was being held out for her to take, "Is this safe, I mean, I did take some time to brush up on health and safety for my journey but I don't even know if this can be used for stitching up something like that." You blankly stare, and force it into her hand harshly, "Look it's a spring, I got it for five caps, all you have to do is twist it around until it closes my skin up, simple as that." Lucy looks unsure at your words so you sigh at her, "If you don't do this, I'm gonna die out here."

As if giving in to your words, Lucy sighs, glancing from the wound on your side to the spring in her hand, a nod of assurance to herself. "Okey Dokey."

You screamed until the pain made you pass out.

You awoke to a crackling fire and a dull ache in your side. Eyes blinking away sleep as you sat up cautiously, tired eyes instantly flickered to the vault dweller, Lucy, holding her hands towards the flame to claim some warmth. The fiend was lying still, you assumed he was dead but it was obvious he wasn't considering he was tied to a rusted car nearby, twitching in his slumber. You would deal with him soon, your attention focusing back to Lucy who noticed you had finally awoken again. "How are you feeling? I was starting to get a little worried, thought you'd never wake up if I'm being honest..." She trailed off, watching as you'd lifted your soaked shirt, the white fabric stained red, you hummed at the sight of the spring, curled around tightly and keeping your flesh closed over for now. "Surprised, I was able to go through with that, I've never actually had to stitch anyone else up before other than myself, ruined a perfectly good wedding dress." She laughed quietly to herself and you tilted your head curiously, "Never would have thought I'd meet a Bridezilla, folks up here haven't given two shits about marriage, not for a long time." The vaultie looked confused, "Bridezilla?" You dismissed her when you realised she hadn't gotten the reference, "It's nothing, forget about it."

Pushing the fabric back down, you turned back to Lucy with an unsure stare, her kindness unsettled you a little, but you could tell it was genuine. "You shouldn't light a fire after dark, specially round these parts." You tell her, and she meets your gaze curiously, "Why, what's wrong with lighting a fire? We need some sort of light source." You stood up shakily, wincing at the pain in your side as you began picking at the guns from earlier, screwing on an unusual tool Lucy hadn't seen before, to you it was a silencer and you aimed it just behind her and fired, the sound of squelching flesh and a high shriek made Lucy flinch and turn, watching as you walked past her, your face curled when the slimey creature twitched beneath your hands, it's hard shell shattered as you carried it to the fire and dropped it in the flames, it's shrieks dying to a stop as Lucy stood up and took a step back. "What is that?" She questioned with a look of horror and you are quick to place your gun inside your inner coat pocket, a simple shrug as you gestured to it, "That's one of many things attracted to a fire at night, we're lucky that this is all that seems to be out here so far." Lucy adjusted her bag on her shoulders, "You mean more of those grossly large roaches could sneak up on us?" You shook your head, "There's far worse things than roaches out here." You told her and her gaze lowered to the fire as if she'd understood what you meant.

Soon after the crackling flames were stomped out.

You had wanted to part ways with the vault dweller but it wasn't as easy as you thought it would be. Even after you shot the man dead who had injured you, she stayed, even when you threatened her with death, she followed, you'd never actually kill her, she saved you after all. You hated it when you packed your bag in the morning and realised it, she thought that stitching you up gave her a travel buddy in the wastelands, someone who knew what to do when she didn't, someone to learn from.

And despite it all, you just couldn't say no, you'd rejected people for less, you didn't have travel companions, you'd never stayed in a place long enough to call it home or be considered anyone's friend. Lucy MacLean was different, in a way, you felt a sense of trust, not fully but enough to let her linger, just for a little while.

She was kind, a good soul, she looked like something out of the movies, the pretty smile, the doe eyes, clean hair, a wave of confidence. She wouldn't last out here alone and the part of you with a conscience would have felt bad so you let her travel with you, the deal being you'd part ways when you reached the next available town where you had not stolen from someone or conned another, anything to get by, you're surprised at your restraint in not just being an asshole and shooting the girl and stealing her shit, it's something you'd done in the past when desperate but a part of you didn't let you. She had saved you and that is what repeated each time a selfish thought occurred, she could have left you to rot but she didn't.

While the company was strange, you were aware of it an awful lot, Lucy had a lot of questions about the world, an awful lot of questions indeed. She asked about why you'd rather be alone than have company, she asked for a name and you gave it to her, she asked about the bombs, she'd asked about things as random as what your levels were when it came to radiation, asked why you had all of the junk you did in your bag, why you preferred travelling at night. She seemed to be quite the chatterbox and though you often preferred the silence, you answered her as best as you could, but you didn't have all the answers that she desired, especially the one that she wished you did.

She was looking for her father, you told her she was lucky that she still had one, she apologised for your loss, you'd dismissed it, your dad died a long time ago and you tried to avoid that topic, of course someone like Lucy opened up a part of you to vulnerability and you had let her, you were letting your guard down when you needed it to be held up high and safe.

There was something so safe about her and you didn't like it, maybe because safety was never something you'd ever thought of on your travels. Safe was new, safe was scary and you wanted to scrub it away, that feeling she gave you, but you couldn't do that if she's still here, you would part ways and it would leave you, you only hoped parting ways and leaving her alone wouldn't kill her, you knew vault dwellers didn't last. Good people always died in a world like this, you knew that better than anyone, if your father was alive he would be ashamed of the things you've done, who you've become. He died screaming at you to run, his bottles of liquid gold ran dry and you had blown his brains out while he cowered in a corner, trying to stay himself, muttering his name over and over until a bullet pierced his brain and mercy ended his life.

Safe got people killed, your dad felt safe when he had his medicine on hand, it stopped him losing himself until he eventually did. You saw it happen, the resistance to it, as guttural cries and growls mushed together, it scared you, it strengthened you, it hurt you, but it also made you the person you are now, alone and forgotten.

Lucy was talking to a bird, its wing bent oddly, she had a look in her eyes that she wanted to help it, she ran a hand down the dark feathers and this was your chance to push her further away, make her despise you, make her know a good person wasn't hiding within you. You stuck a sharp blade through its head, ending its life in front of her, she'd stared at you in horror with those big wide eyes and you merely looked away coldly, stripping away at its feathers and cutting it open with little care, you could see that she was upset, angry at you, she wanted to save the bird and you had ended it's life instead, turning it into food, she'd sat away from you when you lit a fire, twirling the carcass above the flame and letting it singe so you knew that not a part of it was raw.

Lucy didn't eat that night, choosing to go to bed hungry rather than have a scrap of what you had eaten, she was starting to understand it, you weren't a kind sole, you're just as bad, you hoped that was what she was thinking, hoped that when you drifted off that she'd leave, realise who she's travelling with isn't good, isn't safe, you hope that she leaves and lets you wake up alone.

When you awoke, she was still there. She was sat staring at her surroundings and had greeted you with the words of good morning and then smiled, offering you a drink of her water, claiming you had to stay hydrated if you want your wound to heal nicely. You felt like asking why she'd stayed, but you didn't, you remained quiet and gulped a gallon of water down your throat and started your walk for the day and she followed you.

That was five days ago and still she stayed with you no matter what you did to try and get rid of her.

By now, you had made it to a town and shoved a few of your caps to some old man renting rooms, Lucy decided a room shared would be fewer caps and you agreed with that, she also insisted it would be safer if you shared and you agreed to that also, which resulted in you lying on an old, worn down bed, Lucy lying on the one next to yours, and for once she was quiet. You wanted to ask her if she was alright, reach out to her, but you didn't want Lucy to think you cared, so you stayed quiet too, at some point, you knew she'd open up anyway, she had basically told a whole life's story to you over the week, varying from her wedding day ending in disaster because she was almost murdered by her new husband to her dad being taken to this, maybe she told you because you listened and didn't offer any comfort or apologies, or maybe she wanted to gain a friend out of you.

"I don't think I'll find my dad." She muttered out quietly, a strain in her voice as if she was holding back tears, "I feel like the people that took him probably killed him." When a sniffle could be heard from her side of the room, you sat up carefully and parted your lips to speak, unsure of how to handle her delicate feelings. You thought back to your own father, how it felt when he had died, how you felt, it left this wave of emptiness in you, like a part of you was ripped away from you. You wondered if that's what she'd been feeling since he was stolen from her.

You began by clearing your throat, "If they wanted to kill your dad, surely they would've killed him when they were attacking your home." You suggested and Lucy blinked at this, her eyes looked tired for the first time you'd seen her and it made you feel disheartened. "I'm sorry, Lucy." That made her turn to face you, smiling slightly but it wasn't a smile you were used to, it was a sad one. "No, you aren't." She replied before turning over, her back facing you and you frowned, you had expected her to say something like it's not your fault or there's nothing to be sorry for and in that moment you knew Lucy MacLean could read you as if you were an open book, she knew that you only said it to make her feel better, to try and get her to snap out her saddened feelings and change the subject, to ask some stupid questions like she usually does or to count out the rations she had left. She was challenging you, she knew you had something else you wanted to say, something she needed to hear but knew you would never discuss, a frown crossed your brow and you swallowed down your own overwhelming feeling of tears and took a breath, an unsure gaze fixated on Lucy before you spoke up with a tremble in your voice.

"Your dad isn't dead, Lucy." You began, "If he was dead, I don't think you'd still be out here, you'd be back home in your vault grieving." Lucy turned to face you once more, interested in what you had to say, "If he was dead then I think you'd know it, that part of you would feel lost, like someone ripped a part of your soul out." The MacLean is slow to sit up, "How would you know what that felt like?" She asks softly and you could see she'd already guessed, she was just waiting for you to open up for once instead of her. "It happened to me, two years after I was born, my old man got stuck for three days in a bad radiation zone, by the time I turned six his nose had disinterested and his skin looked like it was falling off." Lucy frowned at this yet stayed quiet, letting you continue, "When I was eleven he ran out of meds, we lived in the middle of nowhere so we would never get him that shit in time and I think he knew that it was time for him to go, he couldn't afford it and he gave up, told me to blow his brains out if he went crazy." You stopped and Lucy sat forward slightly, "I shot him in the face." You met her gaze, "The sickest thing about it is the next day, Davey, the guy who was dealing his meds, he showed up with a full box and I took it off him cause he said it was on the house." You laughed at this, it was a cruel thing that occurred but it made you laugh bitterly, "I took meds that stopped ghouls going feral and shoved it down my dead daddy's throat as if that would do shit. All those little vials could've gone to the ones who needed it and I kept them for him because I thought they'd end up bringing his ass back from the dead."

Slowing your rattly laugh, you lock eyes with Lucy, "While ghouls may be able to survive a lot of shit, getting blasted in the face isn't exactly on that list, I learned that the hard way." Lucy frowned at your words and made her way over to you, her arms reached out, embracing you and you fell still, realising that what you were being given was a hug, a thing you hadn't received in a long time. At first, you kept still, arms hanging as she hugged you and then slowly, an arm raised and wrapped around her then your other arm, you didn't even notice you'd closed your eyes, finding an instant comfort within Lucy Maclean, safety.

It made you wonder if this is what having a friend felt like.

You lasted in that rented room another week before caps ran low and you decided to leave, Lucy following after of course, she had acclaimed a drawn map from some lady on a stall, telling her of some places she might find Hank Maclean, her father. Not trusting someone with a rotten grin, you had taken the map from Lucy and scored out a few of the destinations, cannibals, raiders, thieves, all of the places were bad, you had stumbled across a few on your journey to nowhere.

Luckily, spending a week in that room gave you time to check over your wound, unscrewing the spring so that a proper sewing up could be done since Lucy had tracked down a needle and thread. She had told you of how she had been stabbed on her wedding day, her husband was a raider disguised as another vaultie and she'd ended up stapling her wound shut, something you felt squeamish at the thought of. Another thing that surprised you was how neatly she'd sewn you up, a perfect stitch and not a sign of infection. She was way smarter than what you'd first thought of her, you thought her to be naive but she could handle herself just fine, she could throw a punch if she had to, she knew how to use that gun of hers despite claiming she wasn't very good. It made you want Lucy to stick around a little longer but you knew as soon as she'd found her dad, she would be back in that vault and you'd be alone again, left to wander the lonely world.

You didn't know Lucy had other ideas, the way she spoke about her home, the way her eyes lit up talking about her family, her life, but you could see she craved adventure in it which is perhaps why she was so eager to follow you to whatever destination was next.

You didn't have a set destination, just away, forward, an old bed and shitty food, somewhere to sleep, that is the only thing you wanted, always looking for the next place, you didn't get attached much to those types of things, it was all the same everywhere. Lucy, on the other hand, is convinced that it's all great, a little scary but great, she'd had a look of curiosity whenever you landed some place new or had some story to tell, she always listened with a look of interest, eager to know everything that she sadly missed in the world. She asked so many questions and a part of you had grown fond of her daily dialogues, it was growing into a sort of routine.

"We're friends, right?" She asked, her gaze travelling over to where you walked beside her, you turn to her with this unsure look for a moment and then nod, "I guess..." Is the first thing you utter out, "Why do you ask?" Lucy smiled at the confirmation and kept her eyes on you, "After I've found my dad, would you wanna live with me?" You halt, stopping in your tracks, "You mean in your vault?" Lucy's quick to nod and you scoff out a laugh and begin to walk again, "No." She frowns and hurries after you, "Why? It's not like you've got places to be." You pull a face and stare ahead of you, "Oh, I've got places to be, just not in some underground cage." Lucy scoffs at this, "It isn't a cage, it's my home, would you at least consider it?" You shake your head again and walk faster trying to end the discussion at last, "No, now stop asking." Lucy pouts at your tone, then immediately follows up on your refusal, "Why not? Could you at least give me a real explanation as to why?" You'd stopped walking once more, turning to face her with this wary look in your eyes, "I've heard the stories about what went down in those vaults, there's a reason that a bunch of them are now empty." You begin to walk again, but her hand grasps your arm gently and you can see the look of confusion on her face, "What do you mean empty?"

You sigh at her question but her clueless expression had you answering her anyway, "A lot of those vaults were all only made as some fucked up experiment, I had a really old ancestor or whatever it's called, they were living in a vault and when shit went bad down there it went bad, it isn't you're fault, but from the stories I've heard I'd rather take my chances up here on the surface." You explain to her, glancing at the map when you saw her frown deepen at your explanation, "At least up here you got plenty of places you can run and hide, down in a vault, well... you wouldn't stand a chance."

Lucy frowned when you decided to keep walking, instant thoughts swimming in her head at your words, vault 33 is safe, isn't it?

After three weeks, you had given up hope that Lucy was ever going to find her dad. The only information that she had found was that the woman who took him was called Moldaver and everyone knew who she was but nobody actually knew where she was. It was an irritating thing, a majority of the puzzle solved but the single piece to add to it was missing and you and Lucy were growing tired of the dead ends and false leads.

You were in some shed for the night, a small lantern was being used as light, usually as soon as nightfall hit both of you, Lucy would sleep soundly but not tonight, she had a troubled expression and stayed awake with you, looking through an old box from the before when she gasped at something she'd found, "Oh, my Gosh!" She exclaimed in excitement and you turned to her with curiosity, "What's that?" You asked and she turned it to you with a grin, "I can't believe this survived after all these years!" She was quick to shuffle closer to you, handing you a worn down holotape, "Do you know who this is?" She asks and you peer at the cover under the light before nodding, "Yeah, he's some old actor from before, used to be known for those cowboy movies, my dad loved the movie with the dog." You admitted and Lucy grinned at this, "My dad is this guy's biggest fan, he has almost all the movies, we usually watch one of these during movie nights." With a hum of acknowledgement you glance back at the box in front of you, "What's his name again?" Lucy thinks about it for a moment before answering, "Cooper Howard." At the mention of his name, you raise your canister, "Well, I am about 200 years too late but rest in peace, Coop." A humoured laugh left Lucy as she raised her own bottle of water, clinking it against your own, "Rest in peace, wish my dad could've met you, he's a huge fan of your movies, even the cheesy ones." You scoff out a laugh, your nose is quick to burn when the water travels down your throat at a faster pace.

Lucy pretty laugh made you glance at her with a look of softness about you, the way her eyes crinkled when she's smiling, how her whole body moved when she laughed, it made you smile at her for the first time and when she had finally calmed her laughter down she turned to face you, a smile of her own when she realised you were looking at her without a facade. "You're pretty when you smile," She admits quietly and when your smile parts, she thinks she may have offended you and immediately backtracks, "I'm not saying you're only pretty when you smile, you're not, you're pretty all the time actually -"

Her ramblings are cut off when your lips press against her own, at first she froze at your move and then you felt her smile against you, bringing her hand up to your face with such softness that you almost didn't realise it was there, a part of you wanted more but another part needed to stop and make sure she wanted you in the same way you want her and so you broke your lips apart from hers and met a flushed face in front of you. "Is that offer still open?" Was your first question, "To come live with you in your vault?" Lucy immediately grinned and kissed you strongly before breaking apart, "Yes, of course it is!" She laughed out and you smiled back at her softly. "Well I'm thinking that we'd better be on our way to the next town, don't wanna move in without your dad's approval, right?"

Lucy stood up, a smile crossing her features at your tone, the hint of playfulness making her grab your hand tightly and open the door to outside.

"Let's go rescue your dad, Vaultie."

#fallout tv series #fallout tv show #fallout #lucy maclean #lucy maclean x reader #lucy maclean x you #lucy maclean x y/n #first time writing for her so bare with me #lucy maclean fanfic

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artanis-draws · 7 months

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EDIT: I have to add this! You HAVE to read this fanfic, cause there is a chapter that fits almost perfectly to this drawing! At least in my opinion.... but besides that, this story is so so great! I highly recommend!!: Look for the Light - Chapter 1 - Feral_Cinnamon_Roll - Star Wars - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own] I just loove the idea of Din comforting Luke, when he finally opens up to him and talks about all the things he’s been through ❤️ And of course the rain is a paid actor to „hide“ Luke‘s tears. Btw I am very proud of this kriffin’ raindrops on that beskar 😅🫣

While painting, I listened to this song on a continuous loop to really capture the mood and regularly break my heart thinking about the scene.

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harmonictechnicality · 1 year

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model!steve and voice actor!Eddie (part 2)

part 1 here | ao3 link here | the temp is up on this one so like... dni if under 18 pls

Steve spends a lot of his spare time at the gym. Comes with the territory of modeling or whatever. Gotta keep himself strong, without developing bulging muscles. Gotta keep himself toned, without becoming too lean. Somewhat of a balancing act to this media fuckery circus.

Times are changing, yeah maybe. But not for puffy-lipped preps with killer bone structure. Steve still falls under the category of stereotypical Pretty Boy, and he’s chill with that. Fucking owns it.

Most days…

He’s currently cooling down on the treadmill - brisk walk, almost a jog. It’s a good pace for multitasking some adult shit that he needs to get done. Staying hydrated, keeping his photoshoot calendar up-to-date, answering a few emails. Yada yada.

Steve takes a swig of his seaweed (more like arsenic) smoothie. Opens the top email that reads:

The Fallen King - Final Commercial Cut

Right. Steve almost forgot about this particular shoot. Well, tried to repress the thoughts of that mega-douche director who kept referring to Steve’s ass as ‘prime real estate.’ Fucking creep.

He scrolls down to the attached file and slides his headphones back over his ears.

The ad opens with a wide shot of Steve draped over the throne, fog swelling around the bottom of the screen. The music is an eerie cello solo, set to a heavy bassline.

Just another oversexualized cologne campaign, he thinks. Probably will barely feature the product because they paid big money for Steve’s body. Gotta get their fill of it (ha, they fucking wish Steve would fill them up).

But then the narration rolls into his ears and the room does a somersault. Practically inverts it’s axis at the sound dripping in Steve’s ears:

‘The mighty will fall from grace…’

“Oh shit.” Steve almost wipes out on the treadmill, has to catch his fall on the side bars. His knees are tingling, calves molten and shaky. Already half hard, which is definitely going to be a problem in these flimsy, mesh gym shorts.

‘Forbidden love and public slander…’

But that voice. That tone. That sinful register set in the minor key of Holy Fuck.

‘Will bring them to their knees.’

Alright, that fucking does it. Steve pauses the video before he’s fully tenting-out in a goddamn fitness center. Packs up his shit, chucks the sludge smoothie in the trash, and finds an empty stall. Emphatically locks it.

“Agh, damnit!” Steve's thumb slips over the screen and exits out of the video. It scrolls back to the top of the email - a new message has been added to the chain.

Seriously, what obnoxious fucker does ‘Reply All’ these days?

The new message reads:

Great work, team. (Sorry for being such a vocal slut.)

(… Not that sorry though.) - Eddie Munson

That’s right - the voice artist. Almost didn’t recognize the voice, but the repressed memory of that day comes flying to the surface when Steve sees the name.

He recalls the guy being objectively cute too. Not in the California ‘sun-kissed skin’ kind of way. More in the Seattle ‘rain forces me to be a pale homebody’ kind of way. His eyes were something else though. They reminded Steve of the sepia tone filters he used in his early modeling portfolio. No way in hell Steve could ever forget knockout eyes like that.

The locker room is empty. Steve reopens the video, raises the volume high enough to mute out the thin hum from the air conditioning unit. Only wants to hear Eddie’s voice. That’s it.

He’s already touching himself when the first phrase falls out of the headphones. Can’t even help it now that he’s alone. It’s all too good. Works himself up all stuffy and sensitive by the time the new part comes up:

‘Drenched in their guilt. Soaked in their shame.’

Fucking christ.

‘Choking on worthless confessions…’

Nope. Nope. Absolutely not. Choking? Worthless? What is this, a sado hotline? Steve feels the heat spreading on his neck, flushed over in a non-exercise way. There’s a thump in his dick, has to squeeze his fingers around it. Like his body needs a reminder to calm the fuck down.

‘Until all that is left of them is desolate darkness.’

Pretty sure the raspy exhale after every phrase is going to do Steve in, saturate his last ounce of dignity with want. Eddie’s breathing is taking Steve’s breath away, and that’s an outright mindfuck. Earfuck.

Something is getting fucked, and somehow, Steve still needs more.

While the song sustains, Steve strokes himself to the percussive rhythm.

‘The Fallen King. The scent of secrets.’

The hiss on the last syllable fades into the music till everything fizzles out, going dead silent.

Well, everything goes silent except for Steve, who is utterly rattled. Can hear his dense breath and it’s way too noisy for a public space. The pulse in his neck is irregular, hitched the fuck up. His smartwatch is buzzing, alerting him that his heart rate is elevated, which duh. His whole body feels like it underwent some sexual awakening in the middle of a fitness center.

And, sure. That’s a common place for people to realize how gay and desperate they are, but not like this. Not with zero visuals of sweaty bodies.

Before he starts the video over to… finish the job, a phone call lights up his screen. Because of course it does.

He reads the name and swipes it open. “What’s up, Buckley?”

“I need coffee.” Robin whines, already pouting into the phone speaker no doubt.

“You always need coffee.”

“Yeah but like… it tastes better when you buy me coffee.”

“Oh, so you want to mooch off of your own client?” Steve teases because he can. They can annoy the shit out of each other and write it off as endearment. “Pretty unprofessional of you, Ms. Manager.”

Robin groans. Makes it a long one too - probably to show off both her annoyance and lung capacity. “Fuck all the way off, you were my friend first. Always friends first.”

“Always friends first.” Steve agrees. She’s right, usually is about most things. Robin has been his manager since his last agency went bankrupt from pouring their funds into promoting Fyre Fest. And everyone knows that turned out to be an entire fuckshow.

Honestly, it’s easier this way - Robin being his manager. They get to hang out more, he has more input on gigs that he’s interested in…

Interested in. Huh. The metaphorical lightbulb flicks on in Steve’s voice-drunk brain. Having his best friend as his manager is also convenient when Steve needs the phone number of a certain co-worker.

“Alright, fine.” Steve has a sly grin on as he talks. “I’ll bring over some coffee.”

“Thank god.”

“If!”

“Ugh.”

He huffs out a laugh. “If you can send me the cast and crew contact sheet from the Fallen King commercial.”

“Ew, why?” Robin asks, sounds totally repulsed. Valid, that shoot was Objectification Station.

But truly, Steve’s not in the mood to make up an excuse. He’s sore and sweaty and half-hard. So he just gets to the damn point. “Look, do you want coffee or not?”

“Okay okay.” That’s one way to speed up the process. Caffeine threats - works every time. “Dropping the file to you now.”

“You’re the best.” Steve sings.

“I know, I know.” And the line clicks dead.

Okay. This is not a booty call, it’s not.

Steve is just texting a semi-stranger to tell him that his voice is potentially the hottest thing he’s ever heard. Okay, he’ll definitely phrase it better than that, maybe throw a few emojis in there to normalize the tone. Soften it up to sound very un-stalkery.

Yeah. Not a booty call. And if Eddie happens to send an audio message, and Steve happens to jerk off to it… still not a booty call, right?

Pathetic, maybe. But not basic, thank fuck.

He types, then re-types the message out way too many times before settling on this:

Steve: Great work on the commercial voiceover! Got ur number from the call sheet. hope that’s cool.

Steve hits send before realizing he didn’t have the goddamn common sense to introduce himself. He’s not even a rookie at hookups, why is he suddenly so frazzled by this guy?

“This is Steve by the way…” he mumbles into an audio message. Hits send, then quickly makes another:

“The… model guy.”

The model guy? What in the flustered hell is going on with him?

A chime notification goes off maybe two minutes after Steve sends the last message. Which is like… hot. Shameless fast texters are a millennial turn-on, for sure.

It’s a voice text, so Steve takes thirty seconds to calm down whatever involuntary throb just happened in his sweatpants. He sucks in some air and presses play:

“Pretty sure all the kids these days just send a ‘u up’ message to people they wanna dick down at midnight.”

Damn. Eddie’s voice sounds totally different, but just as sexy. Like amateur porn sexy. Is amateur audio porn a thing? It should be.

Steve quickly saves the audio file and types back.

Steve: Ok pls don’t mention ‘kids’ while I’m trying to flirt with u

Eddie: Waitwaitwait So we're definitely flirting right now? I actually interpreted that correctly?

Steve: Like u said It’s midnight So… *shrug emoji*

And a phone call comes through. Eddie’s contact name flashing in a harsh light, too blinding and too unexpected. Steve’s heart is hammering at his rib cage, suddenly so fucking nervous. He waits until the last ring to answer, buys himself some time cause god knows, he needs it.

Steve takes a breath and swallows. “He-”

“Okay, so you do realize this is the sewer rat voice actor guy from the commercial shoot, right?” Eddie interrupts, sounds out of breath. “And not like… a fellow model or Timothee Chalamet’s cousin or something?”

That earns a hearty laugh and eye-roll from Steve. “He is so not my type.”

“Thought he was everyone’s type.”

“Nah.” Steve rolls onto his belly, very giddy and disarmed by the ease of the exchange. His nerves are set aside, replaced with his usual confidence. “More into sewer rat voice actor guys.”

“That… is some very specific criteria.” Eddie coughs or maybe it's just a dry laugh. He sounds pleased as hell, so laugh seems more likely. “Holy shit, I’m flirting with a model!”

“You’re cute." Steve should not be so charmed right now, but the impulsive honesty is really doing it for him. "Dorky, but cute.”

Eddie mumbles something incoherent, then clears his throat. Speaks quieter this time. “So why’d you text?”

“So why’d you call?”

“Just, uh… needed confirmation that this is real life.”

Steve lets out a ‘hmm,’ thinks of a proper response to that. “If I was there, I could pinch you. Ya know... so you’d know it’s real.” Okay. Maybe not proper, but whatever. It’s late. His brain is half scrambled from hormones and exhaustion, cut him some slack.

“Would do a lot more than pinch you if you were actually here.” And sure, Eddie might have mumbled that, but Steve clearly heard it. He heard exactly what Eddie just suggested.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Fuck, we’re doing this?” Eddie whispers.

Steve turns onto his back again, lets his hand wander down. “If you’re into that. Like hearing your voice, Eddie.”

“Like hearing you say my name like that.” And Eddie sounds like he means it. His tone is smoothing over, the same way it did in the narration. “You sound so worked up already.”

Steve moans, chest falling hard enough that the phone slips. Has to reposition it to get all that good vocal seduction back in his ear.

“God, wish I could see what you look like right now.” Eddie exhales, getting that nice rasp that Steve likes so much. It’s sultry and rich. Breathless at just the right moments. “Bet you’re lying down, aren’t you? Phone wedged between your neck and ear cause your hands are too busy to hold it properly. Am I right?”

“Yeah.” Steve pushes past the waistband of his sweatpants, then his boxers.

Eddie hums. Growls. “The things I’d do to you like that. Lying down, looking so eager to please. Saw how good you are at taking direction that day of the shoot. Does that apply in the bedroom too, baby?”

“It… fuck.” Steve strokes himself slowly. Can barely get the words out cause it feels like he's chewing on Eddie's voice. Swallowing every syllable. “Yeah, it does.”

“See - that’s the problem, isn’t it?”

“Problem?”

“That I don’t know what you’re into. How you like it.”

“Pretty open to… trying things.” Steve reassures, eyes closing to soak in every sensation. “Just keep talking.”

And thank all that is holy, Eddie does just that. He keeps talking. “Can’t stop thinking about that pretty neck of yours. How I’d kiss it, suck on it till your skin goes tender and soft under my lips. Till your head rolls back like it did in that video.”

Eddie's words are syrup. Heavy and tempting. “I’d let you rest it on my shoulder while I get my hands all over you. See what sweet spots drive you wild, get you to squirm for me.”

Steve's grip tightens, pumping at a pace that’s close to getting fucked. A pace that makes it easier to pretend that it’s Eddie’s hand wrapped around him, making his vision blurred and spotty - even with his eyes screwed shut.

“Eddie, you’re… oh my god.” Steve whines, knows it must be pretty fucking loud with the speaker smushed against his cheek. “You’re so good at this.”

Eddie shushes him, sounds like he’s snickering a bit. “I’d tease you like that until your thighs start to tremble. Until you beg me to go further. End the torture.”

“Fucking christ…please.” Guess Steve really is that good at taking direction. Or maybe he’s extra easy for guys that turn his brain into liquor. Too busy begging to know which one it might be. “Keep going.”

Eddie’s laugh is dark and rough. “Sounds nice hearing you beg like that. Like sin.”

Feels like sin too.

Steve’s fingers are slicked nicely with precome. The friction of his palm is making everything warmer, better. And stirring all of those feelings up with Eddie’s voice? Fucking hell, Steve is close. He’s so damn- “Okay, okay. If we don’t stop, I’m gonna-”

“I know.” Eddie purrs, sweetly mean. “Thought that was the point.”

“Cannot believe I'm about to say this, but maybe…” Steve has to dig his hand out from his boxers to complete the sentence. Knocks his head against the wall because his behavior is totally batshit right now. “Maybe I want to see you again first? Is that weird?”

His skin sort of tingles from going this long without finishing. Never solved the blue-balling issue back at the gym either, so Steve’s on the verge of climax insanity right now. Didn’t think he’d discover an edging kink at the ripe age of twenty-five, but eureka. Here it is.

“Not weird.” Eddie’s voice returns back to a calmer one. The one that doesn’t make Steve want to bend over and get fucked so hard that his organs shift around. “I mean, I’m weird, sure. But wanting to complete this in person is not weird. Very un-weird, in fact.”

“You talk a lot.”

“Yeah well… voice actor.” Eddie says, sort of deadpan. “You couldn’t see that, but I just did ‘razzle dazzle’ hands.”

Shit, Steve really likes this guy. He just used the phrase ‘razzle dazzle hands,’ and Steve is still horny for him. Wow.

“Is tomorrow too soon?” Steve manages to say before overthinking it.

“Tomorrow-tomorrow, or like today-tomorrow?” Eddie asks. “Cause it’s past midnight.”

Right. Booty call time moves at an entirely different pace than normal time does. “Today-tomorrow. If you’re free.”

“Free as a dead composer’s anthology of music.” Eddie answers happily.

Steve opens his mouth to respond, then shuts it because what? What does that even mean? Is that a yes or a no? Goddamnit, his head hurts. Too many questions, not enough orgasms.

“Most classical music is royalty-free.” Eddie clears his throat, sounds like he’s tapping on something. “… So yeah. I’m free.”

“Right.” Steve chuckles, hard to believe he’s unapologetically gushing. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Eddie.”

“Great. See you today, Steve.” Eddie is still snorting at his own joke while the call ends.

They haven’t sorted out any of the details yet, but it doesn’t matter. It’s happening. It’s real.

So real, that he wants an actual date with Eddie before steamy phone sex. He wants to make Eddie laugh before making him come. That's like... unheard of for Steve. Uncharted.

Damn.

Today-tomorrow can’t come soon enough.

#steddie #steddie fic #this is inspired by the unhinged ao3 tag generator #one more part after this #hope that you like it xx

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mostlysignssomeportents · 7 months

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Bad King Richard got rich by exploiting workers at King’s Faire

Next Tuesday (Oct 31) at 10hPT, the Internet Archive is livestreaming my presentation on my recent book, The Internet Con.

King Richard's Faire is the largest renfaire in New England, and its owner, Dick Shapiro, extracts a reported $400k/day – a sum that is only possible thanks to systematic and likely illegal worker misclassification, which lets him pay performers sub-minimum wages and deny them benefits:

https://www.reddit.com/r/boston/comments/172267v/kings_faire_inc_aim%C3%A9e_bonnie_shapiro_nets_over/

Many of the performers at KRF are absolutely unpaid – these are the "villagers" – who mill about looking picturesque in exchange for free admission. They even have to buy their own turkey legs.

When the faire is rained out, all workers – "volunteers" and paid workers – are sent home without any compensation. Attendees are also sent home with rain-checks, many of which go unused (there's no refunds in the land of King Richard).

Staff work from 8am to 730pm and are paid a day-rate that works out to $6/hour. After heavy weather events, staff are ordered to show up early to do cleanup, but are not paid for their time. Staff don't get health benefits – instead, local community groups like the Elks put on fundraisers to cover the health-care costs of the performers.

Now, King Richard's worker mistreatment is not an outlier in the medieval reenactment industry. Think of how the knights at Medieval Times – who put on nightly, potentially lethal performances to generate profit for their employer – unionized in the face of exploitative labor relations. To add insult to injury, Medieval Times sued the union, arguing that its name – "Medieval Times Performers United" – was a trademark infringement:

https://www.huffpost.com/entry/medieval-times-sues-union-trademark_n_63485fa5e4b0b7f89f54546b

This trademark wheeze is the latest desperate tactic to be deployed by the ruling class in the face of a surging labor movement with broad public support. Starbucks – one of the world's most notorious unionbusters – is doing the same thing to its union, Starbucks Workers United:

https://seattle.eater.com/23923490/starbucks-workers-united-union-lawsuits-copyright-trademark-israel-hamas-palestine-social-media

These moves are wildly out of step with the current of public opinion, which has swung hard for union rights in a manner not seen in generations. The outpourings of public support for striking entertainment industry workers were handwaved away as exceptions driven by the public's love of actors and writers. But that doesn't explain the strong, ongoing support for the UAW in their strike against all of the Big Three automakers:

https://pro.morningconsult.com/instant-intel/uaw-strike-public-opinion-october-2023

Bosses have always tried to smash worker power by dividing workers – by race, gender, or "skill" – but workers are workers and solidarity is the source of worker power. That's why the whole labor movement backed Equity Stripper NoHo, the first strippers' union in a generation:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/14/prop-22-never-again/#norms-code-laws-markets

Creative workers are part of a class of workers who suffer from "vocational awe," the sense that because your job is satisfying and/or worthy, you don't deserve to get paid for it:

https://www.inthelibrarywiththeleadpipe.org/2018/vocational-awe/

(Think of joke about the father who finds his runaway son at the circus shoveling elephant shit: "Son, come home!" "What, and quit show-business?")

Creative workers have long been encouraged to see themselves as "independent businesspeople" – LLCs with MFAs – and this mind-zap is augmented with our bosses' repeated insistence that the unions are for big burly blue-collar workers, not ethereal dreamers and pencil-pushers. Our bosses tell this story because it discourages us from forming unions and demanding fair pay and good working conditions (obviously).

Think of J Edward Keyes, the cartoon villain who serves as editorial director of Bandcamp. When the workers Keyes managed formed the Bandcamp United union, Keyes called them "white-collar tech workers…appropriating the language of the legitimately oppressed," adding "Fuuuuuck Bandcamp United":

https://www.404media.co/bandcamp-editorial-director-fuuuuuck-bandcamp-united/

Keyes's contempt notwithstanding, it's clear why Bandcamp workers need a union – after the company was flipped twice in rapid succession, its new owners, Epic Games and Songtradr, fired all its unionized workers. Keyes responded to coverage of this mass firing by calling the Pitchfork reporters who wrote about it "absloute amateur journalists."

The attempt to divide-and-rule "knowledge workers" from "industrial workers" is a transparent bid to shatter solidarity and make it easier to abuse and exploit all workers. Thankfully, workers are wise to that gambit, and understand that when all kinds of workers struggle together, they win.

Take the UAW strikes: for many years, the UAW was an objectively bad union, ruled over by a dirty-tricking clique who sold out the membership. It's normal to blame workers for bad leaders, but the UAW old guard had rigged union elections, making sure that they would stay in charge. It's not workers that like corrupt unions – it's bosses.

Before the UAW could fight back against their bosses, they had to fight back their bosses' minions in the upper ranks of their own union. That's where the the Harvard Grad Students' Union comes in. After years of worsening exploitation and working conditions, the Harvard Grad Students organized under the UAW, then joined forces with reformers in the union to oust the corrupt leadership.

During the leadership struggle, Harvard Grad Students helped their comrades from the auto-sector master the union's baroque constitution, so when the old guard tried to prevent motions from reaching the floor, the grad students were able to cite chapter and verse back at them. In the end, grad students and auto-workers together won the victory that paved the way for the strikes:

https://theintercept.com/2023/04/07/deconstructed-union-dhl-teamsters-uaw/

A strong, unified labor movement is necessary if America is to save itself from inequality, racism, the climate emergency – the whole polycrisis. The idea that creative workers aren't workers is bullshit – and so is the lie that all workers are uncreative. The "Worker As Futurist" project recruits Amazon drivers and warehouse writers to write science fiction about a future without Amazon:

https://jacobin.com/2023/09/amazon-workers-sci-fi-writing-bezos-imagination-speculative-future

They call this a "belief that rank-and-file workers, whose bodies and minds are exploited by capital, might have access to some knowledge about capitalism that is beyond even the most brilliant theorist or analyst of capitalism."

All workers can and should tell their own story. Doing so isn't just a way to change the narrative – it's also a way to change policy. The new merger guidelines from the FTC and DOJ Antitrust Division explicitly incorporate labor-market effects into antitrust policy. As Brian Callaci and Sandeep Vaheesan write for The Sling, the testimony of workers and unions can help produce the evidentiary basis for blocking the mergers that lead to monopolies:

https://www.thesling.org/workers-are-an-untapped-resource-for-antitrust-enforcers/

The rising labor movement is a force for profound change in every part of our economy and politics. Workers can be our knights in shining armor.

https://www.thesling.org/workers-are-an-untapped-resource-for-antitrust-enforcers/

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/25/huzzah/#bad-king-richard

#pluralistic #renfaires #labor class war #king richard #charter of the forest #harvard #teamsters #uaw #worker as futurist #bandcamp #bandcamp united #j edward keyes #medieval times #kings faire #kings faire inc

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clownprincehoeshi · 4 months

Text

Parallel Hearts - Chapter 3

Synopsis: Never in your wildest dreams you imagined that you’ll meet your ult bias. But it seems that the universe really loves you this time. Will Jeon Jungkook notice you?

Genre: for all chapters- Fluff, Smut, Angst

Pairing: idol Jeon Jungkook x fem reader, idol X x fem reader, idol Y x fem reader

Warning: for all chapters- Kissing/Nudity/Sex scene/Pet names/Angst Minors don’t interact!

Word count: 4276

youtube

Ok, time to get back to writing and continue Y/N's love story. Chapter 4 very soon.

Previous chapter - Next chapter

Masterlist

After your birthday, you and Jungkook started dating. Little dates here and there, but most of them happened indoors because, well, he’s a celebrity and unfortunately for idols, dating is frowned upon in the Korean public eye. You don’t really mind that almost all your dates have to be at your place or his, because you’re a homebody. You had 7 dates so far and you think they were all perfect. You both love to watch movies, cook, enjoy a good meal, listen to music and relax. He loves listening you talk about your hobbies and you love watching him be himself and sing all day. You relate so much to his personality and it helps you open up to him more about how you are. You don’t think you ever opened this much about your true self in front of any guy in the past. You both love your little moments of silence where you just sit on your balcony and look at the sky, with some music in the background.

It doesn’t feel forced, you don’t feel forced to speak, to keep him entertained. You don’t feel like a clown who needs to entertain his partner. And you never question his little silly quirks, you love them, you’re curious about how his mind works in those moments. You have spent a few nights together, sleeping in the same bed, cuddling, but nothing more. You talked about this when you were on your first date. You both agreed that you will try to take it slow and do things step by step, so both of you feel ready for whatever the next step is.

First two nights were really hard, because you were afraid that he won’t like to sleep with you, that you will snore, move too much, or who knows. Then, these fears slowly dissipated, but next nights were even harder. Why? Because you felt horny like shit. You forgot how long it’s been since your last sexual encounter. Months. Many months. You just knew that when it will finally happen, you will cum hard in the first 3 seconds. Hell, maybe even faster. You knew yourself, knew your body very well and mostly, you knew you were in love. You were only in love once in your life, few years back, and it was a one-sided love. But now it was reciprocated and you thought your heart will just implode if he even kisses you.

Your first kiss happened on your 8th date, after you had dinner with the group. Hana dropped both of you at your building complex. It was raining cats and dogs and by the time you got inside the building, you were both soaking wet. You hurried into the elevator, giggling and pushing each other. As you waited to reach to your floor, a heat wave got over you. You wanted to kiss him so bad. Right then and there. But you didn’t dare, you wanted to wait for him to be as ready as you were. So you just stand there, leaning on the elevator wall. He saw you looking at him and he closed the distance between you. He was a few inches away, his nose almost touching yours. You couldn’t say anything, you just watched as little drops of water were running down his face. The rain was a paid actor that day.

The came even closer, his body touching yours. You never liked the feeling of wet clothes on you, but now you didn’t mind. You could feel him breathe over your lips. You started breathing faster and heavier, afraid that you will moan out of nowhere, without even being touched. His presence alone was doing that to you. Will he kiss you right now? You felt like your head was spinning. But he didn’t do it, he was teasing you, checking to see who will cave in first. None of you, apparently. Ugh, damn you, Jeon Jungkook!

But then you reached inside your apartment and it was an entire different story there. You both entered your home and he closed the door behind you. Then you felt a hand gripping your wrist and pulling you back. He had you right next to him, bodies touching, wet from rain and hot from the closeness and the teasing. He did the same thing he did in the elevator, got closer and closer until your faces almost touched. But now you wanted to play this game too, so when he got a little closer, you took a little step back. You kept doing that until you reached the back of the couch and you were now trapped. He trapped you, and there was no more room for you to run. It was still raining you could hear it.

The atmosphere felt so charged, so tensed. His face close to yours, he grabbed both your hands gently, then he moved his up your arms. He reached your shoulders, then your neck, tracing the tips of his fingers on your skin, almost getting a moan out of you. Then they reached your face and he grabbed it gently from both sides. He rubbed slowly your cheeks with his thumbs, your lips. You grabbed his waist and pulled him into you, feeling how hard he was. He was driving you crazy. You kept pushing your body into his, begging him with your eyes to kiss you.

Jungkook: I want to kiss you so bad right now.

He whispered into your mouth in a really low tone.

You were gone completely at this point. You wondered how you will survive this night. You couldn’t wait anymore, you knew he was ready to kiss you too, so he probably was waiting for a green light from you. So you did it, you put your lips on his and oohh.

They were so soft, so sweet, and it was so gentle. He was so gentle. You moaned immediately as he gave into the kiss. Fuck, your head..your heart..you were wrecked. His lips were moving slowly and deliciously over yours, then his soft tongue started licking your lips and meeting your own tongue. You were never kissed this way and you felt like crying. You couldn’t stop moaning into his mouth and you could hear little moans from him too.

Jungkook: I love making you moan, but I haven’t even touched you properly, baby.

Now his hands moving to the back of your head, into your hair, and yours going up his abs, to his chest, loving how his t shirt was sticking to his body.

Y/N: Then touch me Jungkook-ah.

He started deepening the kiss, becoming more passionate. You just knew if your panties weren’t soaked from rain, they would still be soaked because of what he’s doing to you. He went down to your shirt and lifted it slowly, taking it off of you, tracing his hands from your neck, over your bra, cupping your boobs.

Jungkook: We need to take out soaked clothes off.

He took your bra off to, cupping your now bare chest gently. His thumbs slowly going over your hard sensitive nipples. You moaned again. Then you wanted to see him naked too, so you put your hands under his t shirt and just lifted it and took it off, throwing it on the floor. You went to his heck, kissing it, kicking it, tasting his skin. You left his cock twitch inside his pants. Oh, you wanted to feel him inside you so bad, but suddenly he stopped you.

Jungkook: Babe, let’s take a hot shower, ok. I don’t want you to catch a cold. Let’s warm up.

You were a bit disappointed, because you hoped he will warm you with his cock, but you enjoy this tease and this foreplay too. He leads the way, turns the shower on and checks to see when the water warms up, then comes to you, takes the rest of the clothes off, from both of you, then takes your hand and walks you under the shower. He takes the shampoo and tell you to turn around so he can wash your hair.

Well this is new. No man ever helped you in the shower. And he was so gentle about it. Then he cleansed it and put on hair mask. While you let the mask do its thing, you wanted to take care oh him now, so you washed his hair, conditioned it, rinsed it with water, then poured shower gel on his body and you both washed each other. He excused himself for being hard while showering, but you said it was fine. It was pretty like him and perfect. You got close to him and kissed him. Since you were so close, you worked one hand down his abs, to his cock and started touching it slowly. He moaned and groaned into your mouth as he reached your ass and squeezed it with his big hands.

Y/N: Ok, time to rinse everything and go to bed!

You grinned, giving him a look ok “two can play the teasing game”. So you got out of the shower, dried off your hair, put on some clean pj’s and went to bed. You cuddled, gave him a little kiss on the lips and said good night. He did not expect you to be this strong after what just happened, he thought you will be all over him in bed. But knowing you like teasing and playing with him, he started to move even closer into you while he was cuddling you from behind.

His mouth was breathing into your neck and it was not enough, so he started kissing it and giving kitten licks over your neck and ear. The hand that was over you, holding you close to his body, was not traveling all over, and suddenly it went under your t shirt, going up your tummy to your tits. He started massaging them gently, playing with your nipples that seemed to be hard by now. You tried not to give away the fact that you loved this and that you wanted more. His hand that was under your head was now around your neck, keeping you in place and chocking you slightly.

You thought your pants were soaked now, you loved every single thing he was doing to you. After he was done playing under your shirt, his hand started moving down and down, until it reached your pants. And it went under. You had no underwear on and it made him groan. Reaching your pussy, he cupped it and you felt it clench around nothing. He started running his fingers from your clit to your entrance and as he felt the wetness he moaned into your ear.

Jungkook: Oh fuck, baby! You really want to sleep right now? Your pussy says something else.

You didn’t say anything, but your body was giving you away. You started moving against his body slowly, rubbing your ass on his hard cock. When his fingers rubbed your clit you turned your face to him and a passionate kiss enveloped you both. You felt like screaming, you couldn’t take this any longer. Your pussy was getting more wet from his unrelentless movements on your poor clit. So you spoke. You begged. What else could you have done in that moment? It felt too good and you needed more.

Y/N: Baby, please!

Your voice was so low and breathy, almost like a moan.

Jungkook: What is it, pretty girl? What do you need?

Y/N: I….I need… you.

Jungkook: I am here.

Y/N: I…need….to feel you….inside me….please!

He didn’t wait, he turned you over to face him, took his clothes off, then yours, and he pulled you close. Pulled your leg over his hip as you were laying sideways, facing each other. You kept kissing and it felt so intimate, deep and sloppy kisses. You couldn’t get enough. You felt his cock rubbing on your entrance and your stomach was shrinking again, butterflies all over, wanting to escape. You felt him pushing slow inside and pleasure took over you. Your orgasm started and there was nothing to stop it now. The pleasure kept on coming in waves and it would not stop. He went deeper and deeper and it felt fucking good. He moved so slow and deliciously inside you that you couldn’t make any sound. You wanted to look at him, but your eyes kept closing off from the pleasure. You grabbed his pretty face and looked into his eyes, telling him how good it felt.

Y/N: You feel so good, baby! Making me cum so hard…shit!!! Ahhhh

Jungkook: You’re driving me crazy. You look so beautiful like this, writhing on my cock.

Y/N: Don’t stop, please, Jungkook-ahhh!

Jungkook: You’re mine, Y/N. All mine. Fuck!!

You’re both a mess by now, sweaty, ruined, fucked. You don’t remember how many orgasms you had and you really want to feel him cum too, want to watch his beautiful face filled with pleasure.

Y/N: Baby, please cum, I need to feel you. Cum inside me, I want that so bad!

You didn’t need to tell him much, he came in seconds, releasing deep and hard inside you. Moaning and calling your name. It felt so intense and it made you cum once more, holding him impossibly tight and kissing him passionately.

When you finally stopped, you felt so happy and peaceful. You laid like that for a couple minutes, still kissing and panting. You brushed strands of his long hair off his sweaty face, kissing his eyes, his nose, cheeks, forehead.

Y/N: I can’t stop kissing you.

Jungkook: Then don’t.

Y/N: We’ll need another shower after this.

He looked sweetly into your eyes, cupped your face and told you something you haven’t heard in a long long time.

Jungkook: I love you, Y/N!

You whispered in his ear “And I love you, my Jungkookie!”.

You had sex again in the shower, because you just couldn’t keep your hands off each other now. And that’s how it’s going to be from now on, you were two horny humans.

Your relationship evolved, you got to meet his members, his brother. You were really scared about meeting his parents, because you were not Korean and usually parents don’t like you, because you are quiet. So you both talked about this and decided to wait. Also, your hangouts with the 97 crew were not as many as they used to and you feel sad about it. He tells you that he just wants to spend his little free time with his girlfriend, instead of going out.

You keep seeing your bestie, Hana, of course, and one day she tells you she’ll meet the gang for dinner. These days, Jungkook is in the US with work and he’ll be there for a few more days, so you decide to join Hana and the rest. When your boyfriend is out of the country, you don’t bother him with many texts and calls, you know he’s busy, that’s why it’s not something usual for you to give him every little detail about your day.

The guys are happy to see you. You find out that Eunwoo broke up with his gf and he’s trying out the single life right now. Mingyu is too quiet for his own good. He’s not that friendly and loud as he used to be. But who knows, maybe he’s having a hard time. You won’t be nosy about it, not your style.

Mingyu: Oh, Jungkook texted me just now.

Jaehyun: What’s he saying? Tell him I miss him.

Mingyu: Oh, just stuff about doing a dance challenge when he gets back, and I told him we’re all out for dinner.

Y/N: So what’s new with everyone? I haven’t seen you in weeks.

Hana: Well yeah, your boyfriend keeps you real busy.

She says, moving her eyebrows up and down like a crazy person. You push her shoulder, blushing. You know what she’s trying to say.

Eunwoo: I am so happy for you two. It was about time for my guy to get a gf. But how is it for you, with this hiding around and keeping it a secret? You think it’s too much of a challenge for a relationship? I am curious, because, well, mine didn’t work, so..

Y/N: Umm, it is a bit of a challenge, of course, because you can’t go on dates, you can’t go on vacation together. But we both enjoy staying at home, and we never get bored, we always find something to do or talk about, and even if it’s silence, we don’t mind. We’re very much alike.

Mingyu choked a bit on his drink and he raised his hands to say he’s ok. Then he excused himself and went outside. You wonder what’s with him.

As you arrive home that night, you take a bath, then hop in your bed and you feel like texting your boyfriend. You know it’s daytime where he is, and you think it’s fine. So you text him that you miss him a lot, that things are good with you and asked if he’s taking care of himself, eating enough and sleeping. Then you turned your lights off and went to sleep.

The next morning you checked your phone first thing, thinking that you will find texts from him, but there were none. You worried a bit, but your thought he must be really busy and he’ll reply when he can. You had a pretty normal and quiet day at work, had lunch with Hana and a couple of coworkers, then stopped for some grocery shopping on your way home, because you felt like cooking. And still no reply from him. You sent another text.

Y/N: I hope you’re ok. Tell me if anything happens, ok? I love you!

He replies after one hour, with a “All good, don’t worry”

You try not to overthink why he was so blunt. You try not to overthink the fact that he didn’t contact you the next few days before coming back to Seoul. But you felt like something was going on. So after he got back from the US, he texted if he can come over that night. You were happy to see him, but also worried. When he arrived, he was pretty quiet, he hugged you, gave you a kiss on the cheeks and he sat down on the couch. You sat next to him.

Y/N: What’s wrong?

Jungkook: It’s…nothing much, just my stupid brain that is overthinking sometimes and makes up scenarios.

Y/N: But did I do anything?

Jungkook: Noo no no, I’m sorry. I just needed to have a few days alone, to think, and I’m good now.

You get up to sit on his lap and you cup his face, kissing his forehead.

Y/N: You’ll tell me if you need me, right? I will always be here for you, with anything you want to talk about. I am good at listening.

And he hugs you tight.

Y/N: Want to eat, are you hungry?

Jungkook: Yeah, let’s order something bad but delicious and eat while we watch some Netflix.

Y/N: Ahhh, what a perfect boyfriend!!!

And you shower him with kisses all over his face, making him giggle. Maybe one day he’ll tell you what made him sad.

It’s November. You like fall for it’s colors. You love nature, you often find yourself just starring at trees and plants or at the sky. Your phone gallery is filled with sky pictures, mostly sunsets and pretty clouds. As you take a walk alone from work to your apartment complex, your mind goes to your boyfriend. You can’t help but wonder why he’s been pretty distant lately, why he’s not telling you what upsets him. You feel like it’s messing with your relationship, and he’s been like this ever since he came back from the US. You make a mental note to send him a sexy photo later, to cheer him up.

I wonder how December it’s going to be this year. Your Decembers were never happy, somehow, something shitty happened every year in December, close to Christmas. But now you have Jungkook, you have everything you ever wanted. Someone who loves you back and you really feel loved. You keep having your little dates at your house, rarely at his. He always had stalkers around his apartment building, and you didn’t want to become suspicious. Also, you never read any articles about him, you were disgusted anyway about the lies and the hate all the members were getting.

But one day while you were in the office, Hana comes to you with a really sad face and a pout.

Y/N: What’s with the face? Still upset Mingi didn’t look at you at the concert?

Hana: Yes. But no. It’s about your boyfriend.

Y/N: Ugh, if it’s gossip, I don’t wanna hear it.

Hana: Not gossip, all Korea knows this, it was announced today, officially.

You look her in the eye and you can tell she’s dead serious. Oh…

Y/N: What? Are they not getting back together?

Hana: They are going to enlist in a few days.

Y/N: Who?

Hana: All of them.

Heat takes over your head. You can’t think, can’t move. You knew he will go at some point, but you had no idea it will be like..right now. And he didn’t tell you. He didn’t say anything about going away for a year and a half. Why did he do this? You feel like you’re the only one invested in this relationship. Now you think he never actually loved you, been in love with you. Maybe it was just desire for him.

Hana looks at you concerned.

Hana: I know he didn’t tell you about this, but why? This is so mean.

Y/N: I don’t want to talk about this right now, I need to focus on work and we talk tomorrow, ok?

Hana: Ok, lovely! Just call me if you need me and I will be right there.

And she leans in to give you a hug and a kiss on the head. Of course you can barely concentrate on work after that, but you try your best. You also try not to cry. What hurts the most is that he didn’t tell you. Because if he did say something about it, you would wait for him to come back, no matter how long it takes. It’s not even a question if you would wait for him. But you feel worthless now.

As you arrive home, you sit on the couch and look at your phone. Should I text, should I call? What if he won’t respond? What the fuck do I do now? You’re afraid to tall, because he might not pick up. So you try a text.

Y/N: You didn’t tell me. Why?

You keep starring at the screen. Oh. He just read it. You see the blue dots on and off but nothing it coming on the screen. Is he typing some long as text about how this ends here? Ugghhhh!!! The blue dots keep on jumping up and down for a good 8 minutes, but still nothing. You call him. No response. You hate this feeling, it reminds you of your past relationships. You swore to yourself you will never feel this ever again, never let a boy hurt you like this again.

Feeling stupid and hurt, you call Hana to come over and spend the night. When she arrives, you are a mess. Your eyes red and swollen, you’re still in your work clothes.

Hana: Oh, no no! Come here, I’m here!

You cry on her shoulder for a while and she’s caressing your hair slowly to calm you.

Y/N: He won’t even reply, won’t even answer my calls. And I keep hoping it’s all in my head.

Hana: I talked to Jaehyun and asked what the hell in going on with JK and he said he has no idea. He knew he will enlist, but he thought you knew also.

Y/N: I need to get myself together, can’t cry all night. I shouldn’t have had much expectations, even from him. It’s my fault.

Hana: The fuck is your fault. How? You did everything you could, he chose to be a dick. And yes, you will get yourself together and you will be ok even if you won’t be together anymore. If you could pull Jeon fucking Jungkook, you can pull anyone, fuck!

Y/N: I don’t wanna see any man anymore! It’s always the same, I’m just tired.

Hana helped you take a hot bath, made you hot cocoa and put you to bed. She slept next to you, cuddling you, and you felt grateful to have such a good friend.

There were no texts from Jungkook the next few days and you didn’t try to contact him again, you would look stupid. He even did a live on weverse to say goodbye to his fans and he couldn’t even send you a fucking text back. What a coward, you thought. Then the enlistment day came and while you were at home, talking with your bestie no 1 on the phone, your phone vibrated and you checked to see what it was.

11:35 PM

Jungkook: I’m sorry

This is it? Wow, JK, you deserve an award for saying you’re sorry. You fucking idiot!!! You don’t know if you should reply anything, but in the end you don’t. you decide he doesn’t deserve it. So that’s that, I guess. You tell to yourself, with a big sight.

#bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts jungkook #svt x reader #jungkook smut #seventeen fanfic #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jaehyun #kim mingyu #kpop fanfic #kpop #cha eunwoo #smut #jjk smut #Youtube

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bp-zb1fics · 1 year

Text

No, it’s not lasik

pairing: matthew x foreign student reader

genre: university au on crack (same verse as a little crazy and sunbaenim), fluff, comedy

tw/tags: teen movie makeover matt ver., pls just google lasik, mattbin unfounded allegaytions, zb1/bp side characters for comedy, a lot of banter, matt not curing a lot is canon but reader does and it's contagious, yes i love descriptions, cha woongki iconic queen, yaebin another iconic queen, the rain is a paid actor, wet tshirts, kinda stripping, kissing, making out, matt's still a loser but we love him, hanbin bday fic spoiler lowkey

wc: 2200

summary: matthew decided to give himself a makeover during your summer break.

a/n this is dedicated to @seok02, she loves matt and uni aus so here's a bit of both, i did my best, hope you like it nina~

Check my pinned for more fics~

It’s not on purpose. You just can’t stop staring. And before you can think, he’s staring back and you blurt it out.

“You’re blond.”

Matthew pauses as if he doesn’t know how to respond to that. You don’t blame him.

“Yes I am?”

You have no idea how to respond to this either.

When you and Matthew met as freshmen, he had a mop of brown hair that somewhat resembled a halfway bowl cut, chunky glasses that often slipped off his nose and a penchant for outfits that were at least 2 sizes bigger than his body. And you found him absolutely adorable. You also thought he was dating Sung Hanbin from the way he and the older boy seemed practically attached at the hip and their whole childhood friendship arc.

It was only towards the end of that year when you found out that he and Hanbin, in fact, did not like each other that way. And also Hanbin was someone else’s slightly manic boyfriend with his subtle psycho tendencies that you’ve had the absolute displeasure of witnessing. In your defence, he also got like that with Matthew sometimes so it’s not like your assumption was entirely baseless.

Now back to the situation at hand.

“So did you finally get lasik?”

“Uh, contacts? And I still have glasses, you know, just in case.”

You goggle at the trendy, wire-rimmed frames he’s holding in place of the thick, hipster ones he used to sport. Also, since when did Seok Matthew show his biceps and have they always been this large? Did someone burn his closet and replace all those oversized shirts and pants for muscle tees and straight jeans?

Maybe it’s just you but you feel the beginning of a headache trying to digest all…this. You narrow your eyes and let your exact thoughts at the moment run its course.

“Who the fuck are you and what have you done to Seok Matthew?

He sputters. Before he can answer, the door opens and Zhang Hao walks in. The senior stares at Matthew for a good ten seconds before producing a perfectly pleasant expression and saying.

“Oh Matthew, new haircut?”

Well, at least you’re not the only one. Now Matthew just looks sheepish.

“Something like that hyung.”

Chen Kuanjui follows shortly after Hao. Apparently his response to opening the door and getting jumpscared by Matthew’s new look is to freeze, eyes growing two sizes, spine arched, sort of like a cat who isn’t sure whether they’re actually in danger or it’s a prank. Several other members of the foreign student society arrive with varying degrees of reactions.

By the time Kamden slouches in, you’re almost expecting something other than his usual expression.

“Good morning,” he says to the whole group in general, eyes lazily wandering around the room before settling on Matthew. Like Hao, he takes a few good seconds to process. Then, he says.

“Matthew-ah, I don’t know what kind of drugs you were on when you decided to bleach your hair, get lasik and get dressed by some Kpop stylist but I want some of that.”

He sits down. Jay laughs. Nobody else does, probably because the only English speakers present at the moment are the four of you. Matthew sinks deeper into his seat, thoroughly flustered and bright red from all the unexpected comments.

“It’s contacts, not lasik” He mumbles, probably to Kamden. You decide now is the best time to avoid eye contact with everyone else in the room. Also, you don’t want to get caught staring at Matthew’s biceps as he flails frantically after nearly falling off his chair.

At least whatever the fuck happened over the summer didn’t come with an attitude change.

__________________________________________

“Soo, who talked you into this? Yaebin? She’s been wanting to burn your homeless clothes for ages.”

“Shut up,” Matthew passes you a spoon. “And they aren’t homeless clothes.”

After the foreign student society meeting finished up, you had a sudden craving for patbingsu and like the good friend he is, he offered to split with you.

“Mhmm, sure whatever helps you sleep at night.” You start digging into the shaved ice. Matthew snatches one of the rice cakes you were eyeing.

“Bitch, I wanted that.” You give him the most offended expression you can muster.

“Sucks to be you, I guess.” He still passes you another one. You eat it before he gets any sneaky ideas.

Later, he’s the one who’s looking at you betrayed.

“You went to Japan and you didn’t tell me?? Fake friend, what the fuck.”

“Excuse me, I said my family went to Japan while I was in Australia. I didn’t go with them, thank fuck, I needed some me time.”

“But still,” Great, now he’s pouting. “There’s like a ton of limited edition figures that I would like die to have.”

You swear your eyes are rolling to the back of your head. This absolute dork.

“Then you go to Japan, damn, sue me I guess.”

“Uhuh, with whose money though?”

“I mean now that you’re hot and everything, I heard models get to travel for shoots and stuff.”

“Wah, you think I’m hot?”

Dammit, you’ve been caught. Retreat. Retreat.

“I was joking, forgot that models were supposed to be tall.”

“...shut up.”

“He isn’t going to deny it, I guess.”

“I will eat all of these rice cakes.”

“Bitch, don’t you dare.”

__________________________________________

Once you’ve gotten over yourself and realised that Matthew is the same nerdy, disgustingly nice person that you know and love (and still kinda have a crush on, not like you’re planning to admit that anytime soon), it’s easy to fall back into your usual routines. Unfortunately, the rest of campus has not gotten over themselves like you have. It’s (really) annoying.

“Omo, is that Seok Matthew or did you finally get a hot boyfriend to walk you to class?”

You sigh. Cha Woongki was a delight to sit with most of the time but he can be a shade bit dramatic. He isn’t the only one. You’ve definitely spotted a bunch of the girls (and even a few guys) whispering and throwing glances when Matthew drops you off at your lecture room. It’s one of those little things the two of you do after figuring out which classes you have for the semester.

“It’s just Matthew.”

“Lock him up, omg. You need to stake your claim on those biceps before some other person gets their claws into him.”

“Please, I can't just do that.”

“Like it’s hard? He’s like halfway in love with you, honestly, all you have to do is put a hand on those muscles, bat your pretty little eyes and tell him these babies are yours and he’ll give them to you.”

Maybe you’d take this more seriously if Woongki hadn't just given a live demo of what he wanted you to do on the unfortunate person that decided to sit on his other side. Lee Jeonghyeon eyes you both nervously before shifting so there’s at least three seats between him and Woongki.

“He’s not in love with me.”

“And I don’t want to kiss Jeonghyeonie, go figure.”

Jeonghyeon stands up and moves to a different row. You sigh again.

When class ends, Matthew’s already waiting for you outside, shifting nervously as a group of girls linger nearby, giggling and glancing over at him

“How was class?”

“Kinda chill, seongsaengnim was more on doing practical work today so I didn’t lose as many brain cells, you?”

“I think my head might explode.”

“Yikes, that bad?”

“Yeah. Oh, by the way, we’re gonna drive out somewhere on the weekend, wanna come?”

“...You can’t drive though.”

“Sorry, I mean Hanbin-hyung is going to drive us, some kind of day trip thing, they’re still figuring out if we can do an overnight, maybe some camping, it’ll be fun.”

“Hmmm”

“You should go.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Eyyy, go already, come onnn.”

“.....”

“I’ll pay for food?”

“..Okay fine.”

“Nice! It’s going to be fun, I promise.”

Well, if Matthew looks that excited, you’re pretty sure it’s going to be fun. Honestly, you didn’t need that much convincing but you can’t keep caving every time he uses his sunshine smile like that. (you still do, though).

__________________________________________

Because Matthew agreed to pay for your food, you’re doing groceries together the day before the trip. By together, you mean Matthew pushes the cart and you pick out the goods and very occasionally you argue over the merits of a certain snack or whether you really need to bring that much alcohol for a potentially overnight trip. (you do)

Any good relationship friendship is all about compromise.

“You’re seriously making me broke this early in the sem?” He tells you once you get to check-out.

“You offered, no take backs.”

He pays for it anyway and insists on carrying most of the bags. No, you are not looking at the way his biceps are straining especially when his clumsy ass nearly faceplants as you walk out.

Of course that’s when it starts raining like hell froze over and decided to come at you. Both of you start laughing and swearing like absolute idiots and you make the cardinal mistake of looking Matthew in the eye.

Apparently getting hot over the summer means that he looks devastatingly Kdrama male lead attractive in the rain. His hair manages to maintain that wet look that happens to be showing forehead. Droplets of water dripping down his face and neck like the rain decided to be a paid actor when it made contact with his body. And his eyes crinkle and he’s smiling and you feel your heart drop into your ass and then levitate out of your body like it sprouted wings. Seriously, how can he look at you like that when you probably look like a drowned rat?

You’re tracking puddles as you reach his dorm room, shoving the wet plastic grocery bags to the side and grabbing towels.

“We gotta change.” Matthew notes. And with absolutely no warning, he begins to take off his shirt. You’re in hell.

First of all, today, of all days was when Matthew decided to wear a white shirt. Which means you are treated to a nearly transparent and downright illegal view of wet fabric plastered to the ripped muscles of his back, shoulder muscles moving as he tries to peel the shirt off. And you can’t even get started on his arms, they’ve been the bane of your existence for days. And because he’s an idiot, he’s actually struggling to get his shirt off, seconds dragging out your agony. He turns and you catch sight of his bare abs and your brain-to-mouth filter decides to unalive itself.

“Okayy, damn, I didn’t ask for a strip show.”

Matthew looks up and you’re suddenly struck by the horrible feeling that both of you know you’re checking him out. Maybe the rain got into his brain too because he proceeds to walk up to you, open his mouth and say the most unSeok Matthew thing you’ve ever heard in your life.

“You know you like it.”

Dead silence. Maybe you’ve actually died because you can’t believe he just said that. Also you’re so sure you’re blushing because you’re being treated to a front-row view of how his wet shirt plasters against the outline of his abs and pecs. It’s kinda, really fucking unfair. Finally, you look up at him and muster the most unimpressed look you can because that line was so bad and he’s such a fucking dork but also you might as well shoot your shot.

“...Bitch, just kiss me already.”

Matthew kisses you already. It’s great. He somehow manages to be warm against you even though you’re both absolutely soaked. There’s a lot of free real estate to grab onto so you’ve finally got your hands on his biceps, squeezing them as he catches your bottom lip between his. He tastes faintly of mint and also those fruit popsicles you had earlier. His hands slide down to your sides, rolling up your wet shirt a little so he can thumb over your bare skin. Something hot explodes in your stomach as his lips press warm against your neck.

It’s really fucking hot except you’re both still wet and gross from the rain and Matthew nearly slips and gives both of you concussions. You burst out laughing as he apologises sheepishly.

“For the record,” You tell him later once you’re showered and dry and on his couch wearing his hoodie with your legs on his lap. “I liked you with those nerdy glasses even if you dressed like Seo Taji and Boys decided to make a comeback.”

“Yaebin said the same thing.” He pouted. “But you were all over that acting major last year and I thought he was your type.”

You choke. “Bak Doha? I went on like two dates with him and one of them was because Woongki dared me too. Second one was because he was actually a nice guy and I felt bad so I treated him out for chicken.”

“Eyyy, next time only treat me out for chicken.”

“...be glad I still find you cute.”

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