#(if I didn’t make it clear I’m talking abt the coffee fic)

[the-real-couchrat]

INTERDIMENSIONALFORD MEETING ALCOR IS LITERALLY ONE OF MY FAV KIND OF FICS EVERRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I LITERALLY HAVE A FIC LIST OF IT (AND THIS IS GOING IN IT!!!)

1) Coffee in Space, or the Equivalent

2) Trust No One

3) Trans Dimensional arc!! Alcor finds a Ford

4) Come With Me if You Want to Live (this one!!)

You’ve probably already seen those ones, but they’re still SO GOOD!!!

Also if you’ve seen any others, PLEASE recommend them to me!! (This includes prompts or hc on the official blog!)

Anyway, thank you for writing this, I love your fics (especially that mermaid one:) ) and have a lovely day/night!

Edit: I WAS JUST LOOKING THRU THE LINKS TO REREAD THEM, AND THE ALCOR FINDS A FORD FIC UPDATED A FEW DAYS AGO!! IM ASHAMED THAT I DIDNT NOTICE!!

Edit edit: I’m gonna need to make a separate post on this

fictober prompt 7: "follow me if you want to live" | transcendence au (gravity falls) | G

read on ao3

Ford comes to with a gun pointed at his head. His memory is still sluggish, but he can vaguely remember running from some space cops (the specifics were irrelevant, after long enough all the space cops started blurring together. Why did they all wear the same clothes?) and then being restrained. He must have gotten knocked out sometime during the fight.

He eyes the human— at least they certainly look human— pointing the gun at him. They certainly aren’t dressed like a space cop, unless the space cops of this dimension actually wore dress shirts, tailcoats, and stringy little bow ties, but that certainly doesn’t mean they’re trustworthy. Ford doesn’t trust snappy dressers on principle.

They’re both alone in a back alley, he notes. He’s sitting on the ground, no longer restrained.

“Follow me if you want to live,” the person says. They’re seemingly trying to be intimidating. If it wasn’t for the gun still pointed to his temple, it wouldn’t have worked.

The barrel of the gun in their hand burns a familiar blue, and it takes all of Ford’s strength not to bolt. It’s not him. It’s a perfectly normal gun that happens to be pointed at him. Half of the blasters he’s seen are the same color. And in any case, the person in the suit would surely shoot him as soon as he moved to leave.

“You don’t seem too concerned with my life either way,” he says instead. “Judging by…” He gestures toward the gun pointed at him.

“I’m literally the one who saved you from those government guys. And I was never going to kill you. I just didn’t feel like arguing with you, and I know you’d never listen otherwise.”

They finally lower the gun and pull him up so he’s standing. “I really didn’t think I’d get to see you here, Stanford Pines.”

“How do you know my name?”

They gesture to a WANTED poster on a wall next to them. His own face scowls back from it. “You’re a bit of a celebrity, you know.”

“And what if I don’t go with you?”

“If you wanna get captured by those guys again then be my guest.”

Ford considers his options. He’s half-tempted to tell them thank you very much but he knows how to take care of himself, but then he figures that the risk of them betraying him was much lower than that of going out on his own. It was simple logic.

It wasn’t because he was lonely. It wasn’t.

“Alright, I’ll come with. On one condition. Tell me your name.”

“Should I… it won’t mean anything to him, it’s gotta be fine,” the human mutters under their breath. Then their face cracks into a wide grin, just on the edge of familiar. “Call me Dipper.”

“After the asterism?”

They’re still grinning. Ford gets the sudden urge to check their eyes because he’s seen that smile, he’s sure of it, plastered onto his own face so long ago. “What else would it be?”

[thickenmyblood]

maca this chapter was insane i was kicking my feet the entire hour I took to read it!!

but can I just say as much as I was team damen in the beginning cause I didn’t fw laurent’s whole approach to the breakup…..I don’t get why damen was so upset with laurent abt the needing a lawyer reveal when he immediately recognised that it was obvious that laurent continued to stay with him because he genuinely loved him.

Don’t get me wrong I definitely love that you took that approach cause your writing is so REAL and Damen recognises he’s being an idiot sometimes!!But I didn’t expect Laurent to not push back abit in some sense like he was just a traumatised kid barely a year older than nicaise is rn when they met (if i got the math right on that).

anyway I think I just wanna hear more about your thoughts on Laurent’s headspace if it’s not spoiler-y ofc. Thank you for such a brilliant chapter and happy holidays ♥️♥️

hello! i was actually talking to @savoytrufflephd about this the other day. this is terribly long but we're reaching the end of the fic and i will never get the change to speak on these things again, and so i hope this answer guides your reading experience and helps clear any doubts you might have going into the last chapter.

about damen:

during their argument, damen is gutted to find out that laurent approached him because he needed a lawyer and money, and, indeed, damen doesn't have an absolute "let's berate laurent" meltdown right then and there, but i wouldn't say he "immediately recognized" anything.

there are three main emotions at play during the reveal scene.

sadness: damen feels deeply hurt by laurent's confession.

There is nowhere to go. There is no other sound in the world but Laurent’s voice, tearing him open.

They should be doing this in the kitchen, Damen thinks. For old times’ sake. For symmetry. There must be a reason why Aimeric keeps picking kitchens as his bleeding spot.

anger and/or self-righteousness: damen makes comments to hurt laurent and express the hurt he's feeling himself and how he feels cheated and wronged.

(...) Was a live-in nanny so expensive that you had to spend the next four years forcing yourself into bed with—”

“You were nervous. Before. I remember the—was the bathroom break so you could vomit in between—”

(...) So you stayed up all night, going through that—that shit, and you had ten liters of coffee this morning so you could be brave enough to sit here and tell me that I was your pimp for a while. (...)

“I wouldn’t blame you,” Laurent says, “if you—” “Don’t play the martyr card.” “I’m so—” “Fuck you,” Damen says.

defeat: damen slowly realizing this is the worst case scenario. there can't be anything worse than this, and so it's almost a relief to hear it because he 1. didn't have to ask 2. can't imagine any other blow hitting him harder (which... i mean, he did have a heads up from nikandros). now what he wants is to understand how this happened and why.

Something is leaking out of Damen now, except it isn’t blood. He feels it by its absence, by the relief it leaves behind. This, he thinks, as he looks at Laurent. This is everything they have done to each other. There is nothing left but this: the wound, drained; the wound, re-dressed. This is what he wanted to know, what he asked for. This.

He might as well lay down on the table and pass Laurent the knife.

He wants to feel stupid and can’t, wants to lather himself up in hatred to slip away from this with ease. He can’t. He’d thought in those first months at Nikandros’s that he knew what hating Laurent was—annoyance, mostly, and contempt, slightly—but now he knows that wasn’t hate. He could never hate Laurent. Maybe he could learn, could train himself to do it, but he doesn’t want to. He wants to understand. He wants—

damen is not the best when it comes to understanding his own emotions. later on, when analyzing this argument with neo, this happens:

“I don’t know how it made me feel,” Damen says. “I was angry yesterday. At him. And I know I should be angry now, or earlier when he said—when he told me.” “But you weren’t.” “I wasn’t sad either. It was like…” “Like?” Damen smooths over the sheets beside him. The bed is cool and neatly made on that side. “Like I’d been waiting for him to say it for so long, that when he did, it wasn’t… I don’t know.”

he did feel all those emotions in the argument, but when asked to talk about them, he holds onto defeat instead of anger or sadness. i wrote him this way because i wanted a version of him that was tired of arguing with laurent, that didn't want to do that anymore, that wanted things to be fair between them. plus, i wrote very early on that he's just not very creative when it comes to (active) cruelty. it just doesn't come naturally to him.

now, about laurent:

i agree that this laurent reads very passively. he doesn't strike back, doesn't argue that he was desperate, that it wasn't his fault, etc. this is because:

he's being self-hating. this is him basically telling damen "look at what i did and hate me for it. i don't deserve the way you've always helped me, the way you're STILL helping me. i'm not a good person. i'm not who you think i am." this is why, in this fic, laurent also allows nicaise to treat him like shit. it's the reason laurent did not tell agnes about the verbal abuse he was being subjected to. he thinks he deserves it. it's the reason he tells damen having sex with maxime was a chore and still he kept doing it.

like damen, he's also tired of arguing. in fact, i would say he's MORE tired than damen. he's getting the worse of nicaise's ire and has been for months. he knows damen is upset with him bc of that 10 minute conversation he had alone with nicaise in ch18. the day before, damen looked him in the eye and told him it was all his fault, that everything wrong that happened with nicaise was on him, that he was to blame because he was too busy having fun and being stupid to take care of the one person he was supposed to look after. he's emotionally drained. he spent the entire night looking through nicaise's phone, analyzing dates and punishing himself for everything that happened. after almost 400k words of fucked up situations, he's finally reached this strange limit of "whatever, just let it end".

the self-fulfilling prophecy aspect of his relationship with damen. in a way, laurent never dared to hope what he had with damen would be forever. in fact, he believed in order to keep damen, he had to sacrifice many, many, many things and aspect of who he was and is as a person, because otherwise damen would not and could not love him. things like his mental health, his own abuse, his views on sex... but also small, stupidly vulnerable things, such as letting your partner know that you fucking douche!!!!!! letting him know you do things every other human does. laurent wanted damen to love him, but he didn't think damen ever could if he showed him all his cards and baggage and whatever you want to call it, and so he made himself palatable. and this was, ultimately, the downfall of their relationship (along with damen's obvious ignorance, emotional issues, repression, etc.)

this is all i can say on laurent's end. ch20 will give you some more details to help you look at his actions and thought process throughout the fic in a different light. i hope this answer made sense and wasn't just me babbling for seventeen thousand words.

thank you for your time!!

[xo-punisher-xo]

Coffee date

(Old ass Frank fic I wrote when I was at peak Frankie brain rot, I don’t think I’ll ever finish it so here is the unfinished thing LMAO. Sorry abt the weird spacing 💔)

Gentle taps of the jazz brushes and ever flowing piano chords playing over the speakers fill your head as you occupy a wobbly wooden oak chair in a coffee shop. You’re scrolling your phone with glazed over eyes as you take another sip of your drink, the shops doorbell rings and you can’t help but peel your eyes away from your phone to look up to see what stranger is walking in today; his build is stocky yet firm and there’s a softness to his rather bold features. You catch his gaze before realizing how weird it might be to be staring at a stranger and immediately pull your eyes away from his dark brown ones, you try your best to keep your eyes glued to your phone as if nothing had happened but his gaze was infectious and left you wanting more.

You meekly peek up from your phone to drink up more of his appearance and less of your coffee. He’s standing at the counter with a black hoodie wrapping itself around his frame and cargo pants bend and curve at the will of his legs, your eyes meet again but this time his are smaller on account of him smiling… he’s smiling at you? You didn’t think it was possible for a rather tough looking man to have such a warm and welcoming smile, you return one of your own trying to replicate the delicacy that’s adorned his face.

You continue watching him as he nods and thanks the barista for his order, not offering the same courtesy of letting them see his smile as he did with you. He stops just before the door and turns on his heel to face you; his steps are firm and grounded as he makes his way over to you and to be honest you’re a little nervous at this gesture. He smiles again as he meets the back of the chair across from you, his lips form a tight line for a second before opening up to let a gravelly voice spill out past them “I’m sorry if this is forward but you have the most kind smile I’ve head the pleasure of seeing in a while, I wasn’t going to forgive myself if I didn’t tell you that.”

You feel your face run hot, your brain has effectively stopped working at his sickeningly sweet words and whose smile you’ve only seen mere minutes ago. A few ‘ums’ and ‘ahs’ leave your lips as you’re trying to find the right words that he’s stolen from your vocabulary, he stands there patiently waiting for your response; “oh um thank you, I could say that same about your smile! Though yours is a lot sweeter, like honey” oh god why did you say that he’s gonna think you’re weird as hell for… he’s smiling? He’s laughing oh my god he’s chuckling is that a good thing?

“Well I’m flattered that a pretty thing such as yourself thinks so, may I sit?” He gestured to the chair in front of him tilting his head ever so slightly as he posed that question to you, you nod almost as quickly as the question left his mouth. You’re still in shock that this gorgeous person is talking to you let alone complementing something about you and it almost feels too good to be true, but before you have more time to overthink things his voice cuts through the silence that’s holding your brain hostage “So what brings you here anyways? Surely it isn’t the coffee, they don’t make it all that good anymore.” Your body seems to be against you today because you have to stifle a giggle, unfortunately for you he’s caught wind of that quick giggle before lightly saying “I’m serious! Just because I come here to get a drink doesn’t mean I like what they make, I’m more of a tea drinker and fortunately they don’t mess that up half as bad.”

“I like the atmosphere and the music they play. It’s calming and helps me clear my head, that’s all.” You say with a shy smile adorning your face as you finish talking, he nods and hums in agreement before taking a sip of his tea. You two begin talking about the music and surroundings for a while before you tell him you need to get going, he offers to walk with you in what can only be an attempt to keep talking to you even if it’s just for a few more seconds; you two are conversing about your lives and interests the whole way down sidewalks and up streets until you reach where you need to be, the look on his face as he’s forced to leave you can only be described as sorrowful and pained.

His mouth opens and closes a few times before the words can finally be assembled properly “Would it be possible to see you again? I just think you’re worth getting to know, maybe even over some better drinks.” A low nervous chuckle follows his words, you nod and tell him you’d love to get the chance to know him a bit more as you give him your number. Before heading inside you turn around and wave at him, it’s as if a paintbrush is pulling his mouth into a wide smile across his face as he waves back at you before having to part ways for the night.

You two have decided to meet up at a slightly more intimate cafe, vines are twirling and cascading themselves around the frames of the window and the lightbulbs are a perfect shade of sunset orange. You both talk about how your week has been, once again indulging each other in your interests and finding common ground about things you like and talking about them for what seems like an eternity. His eyes are soft and inviting, you feel like you don’t have to worry about anything you say coming across as weird or wrong; his demeanour puts you at ease and makes you feel seen, everything about him is comforting and you wished you had the courage to let him know just how happy he was making you at this moment.

[yoongiseesawmp3]

just about perfect - seonghwa

howdy folks, back with another fic but i’m switching it up on ya! i might start writing regularly for ateez as well so y’all are cool with that right? right.

summary: this is NOT inspired by seonghwa saying he watches nevertheless. why would you even think that.

warnings: not the kind of warning u were expecting but there’s no smut (i know its based off a show abt friends with benefits so that’s why i’m warning u. do not get ur hopes up) a little cussing, a lotta me waxing poetic abt the perfect man park seonghwa. also slight tomfoolery from the teezers

word count: 10.6k

the bookstore just off campus is your current go-to study spot, mostly because the cafe inside has a drink special where you buy one coffee and get a voucher for the new bakery next door. so, let’s just say the past few days you’ve been well caffeinated and well fed. you’re on the way there now, already planning out what your treats are going to be. 

today you were supposed to meet your “study group” after your last class of the day, but it looks like you’re the only one here so far. and you say “study group” loosely, the professor for your music theory elective encouraged everyone to make a study group for the upcoming final and your group of friends chose to work together. there’s been no studying going on, though.

especially not when hongjoong’s new friend seonghwa has been flirting with you literally nonstop. he’s apparently friends with everyone else in your group too. san knows him from an art class they took together last semester, meanwhile wooyoung and yeosang claim they lived on seonghwa’s floor freshman year and he always bought them booze. seonghwa denies it, only because hongjoong would slap him if he admitted to buying alcohol for underage kids. 

tasteful delinquency aside, seonghwa is a fine person. you mean personality fine, not like, fine fine even though san would beg to differ. he knows you’ve developed a thing for seonghwa despite trying not to, and he’s secretly trying to get you two together. 

which is why san suddenly texts you and says he can’t make it, and neither can yeosang or wooyoung. they decided to ditch studying to practice for the final in their dance class instead, so it’ll be just you, seonghwa and hongjoong. and little did you know, hongjoong was trying to do the same thing as san. so we’ll see how this goes. 

- 

“y/n, you can’t do that,” hongjoong warns you, referring to the scale you were trying to fill out. 

“why not?” you ask, looking down at your work and wondering what’s wrong.

“because it’ll sound like shit,” seonghwa replies before sipping his coffee. 

“what he said,” hongjoong agrees, grabbing your paper and erasing some of the notes you had scribbled out. “it should look more like this.”

you glance over at what he’s done on top of your old work and sigh. you took this class because you like music, and you thought learning about how it works would be interesting, but it’s hard. 

“can’t you just do all my work for me?” you plead. at this rate, you don’t think you’ll be able to pass the final. 

“no, i don’t want you dragging me down in this class,” hongjoong replies. “my grades are great.” 

“i hate you.”

“what are you struggling with, y/n?” seonghwa asks as he finally looks up from his laptop. he had been working on an assignment for another class this whole time because he, like hongjoong, is great with music theory. so maybe this study group was a good thing. 

“here, you can switch seats with me,” hongjoong says as he clears the spot next to you on the weathered loveseat. “i’m going to look for a book i should’ve started reading two weeks ago.” 

before you can protest, seonghwa is sliding his laptop across the coffeetable and slides himself into the spot next to you. when he sits you notice your thighs are touching, which is weird because there was plenty of space when hongjoong was here. you don’t know that seonghwa is doing this on purpose, that hongjoon really left so he could flirt with the cute cashier in the cafe to give you and seonghwa some alone time. 

“so,” seonghwa starts once he’s settled. “what are you struggling with?” 

“hmm, all of it?” you reply. your answer makes seonghwa smile, and you like the way his eyes sparkle when he does.

“then i guess we’ll be here a while.”

-

about an hour later, seonghwa has walked you through all the major and minor scales you need to know for the test and you’re starting to understand a little more. you’re still having problems with the back of the study guide where you have to come up with note combinations that can apply to those scales, but you have time to work on that since the final is two weeks out. right now, your brain is fried and you need a break. 

“do you mind if i go get a coffee?” you ask seonghwa, who was in the middle of sending you the minor scale cheat sheet he made. he looks up from his laptop and shakes his head before he speaks.

“i would only mind if i can’t come with you.”

“it’s literally right over there, why do you need to come with me?” you question.

“i think i would just miss you too much,” he pouts, and you roll your eyes. seonghwa shuts his laptop and stands up. “what if i need coffee too?”

“you already had one,” you remind him as you stand.

“yeah,” he nods. “but teaching you is exhausting, so i need another. c’mon.”

he walks ahead of you to the counter, and you’re too busy searching for your wallet to notice he took his jacket off, revealing a sneaky tattoo on the back of his neck. it isn’t until you’re behind him in line that you get a look at the hand drawn star right on the nape of his neck, and you have to refrain from reaching out to trace the lines.

“i didn’t know you had a tattoo,” you decide to say. he turns around and instinctively rubs his hand across the tattoo, smiling at you with those sparkly eyes again.

“yeah, i have a couple,” he replies. “but this one is my favorite.”

“why?”

“because my name means ‘to become a star’, so i like knowing that i have a reminder with me all the time,” he explains.

“nice. it’s really pretty.”

“thanks, so are you.”

“sir?” the barista calls, pulling seonghwa’s attention from you. he steps up to give his order as you stare at the tattoo again, noticing alongside it a couple of freckles that almost make it look like a constellation.

“y/n?” seonghwa’s voice draws you out of your thoughts and you realize he’s finished ordering. “what do you want?”

“oh, i can get it,” you begin, but he cuts you off.

“no, my treat,” he insists, and you sheepishly walk up to the counter to give your order. seonghwa makes a mental note of what you get, and he also snatches the bakery voucher from you before you can put it in your pocket. you make a confused sound and seonghwa laughs. 

“why’d you do that?” you whine.

“you only get to use it if you come with me to the bakery later,” he teases. “say yes or i’m drinking your coffee and getting myself an extra cupcake.”

“fine,” you huff. “but i have an assignment due at midnight, so i can’t stay long.”

“it’s 4pm, that’s not enough time for you to finish it?” he asks while you step out of the way for the next customers.

“i haven’t started yet,” you admit. 

“you like saving things until the last minute, don’t you?”

“what makes you say that?”

“well, it looks like you haven’t been studying music theory at all, and now this,” he shrugs. 

“not everybody can be perfect like you, park seonghwa,” you grumble as the barista places two coffee cups on the bar. you hear seonghwa giggle shortly, and you give him a questioning look.

“so you think i’m perfect?” he smirks.

-

it’s the next day, almost midnight, and you really need spray paint. 

why? well, you’re stressed because you have so much to study for your finals and you don’t know where to start. yes, seonghwa helped yesterday, but he’s not in all your other classes, so you’ve decided you need a break from tearing your hair out over the material you can’t comprehend. the best way to distract yourself from that is to finally paint that dresser you got from a garage sale a few months ago, hence the spray paint. 

thankfully, san is still awake, and he has a car, so you ask him to pick you up for a quick run to the art supply store that’s surprisingly still open. a bonus of going to college in the city, you can get anything almost whenever you need it. 

“thanks for coming to get me,” you tell san as you hop into his car. 

“no problem,” he replies. “i was bored and hongjoong said he needed paint pens so this is a win-win situation. plus, i get to hear about your date with seonghwa yesterday.”

“it was not a date,” you groan, choosing to ignore the suggestive way san is looking at you right now. 

“but you spent the whole afternoon together,” san starts. “he bought you coffee and you went to the bakery together and talked about, like, your favorite colors and stuff. sounds like a date to me.”

“how do you know all that?”

“seonghwa told hongjoong and then hongjoong told me,” he explains as he turns onto the street that’ll take you to the art store. 

“well tell hongjoong that i’m still mad at him for ditching us,” you reply. “and i’m still kinda mad at you and the other two for bailing in the first place.”

“hey, if it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have had your first date with seonghwa,” san points out.

“it was not a date!” you cry. “we studied most of the time we were together, then he bought my coffee and bullied me into going to the bakery. i couldn’t stay long because i had a paper to write, so we talked about stupid shit until i had to leave.”

“it sounds like the beginning of true love to me,” san sing-songs. 

“stop the car, i’ve decided to walk.”

-

when you get to the store, san separates from you quickly because he sees his friend mingi behind the counter. they’re busy talking while you search the store for the paints, and you’re so busy looking up at the aisle names that you don’t notice you’re about to run into someone. 

“hey-” you start to complain, but you recognize the man you almost bumped into. “oh, seonghwa.”

“y/n,” he smiles at you. “what are you doing out so late?” 

“uh, distracting myself from how small my brain is,” you explain. “what are you doing here?”

“hongjoong needed paint pens,” he says, and you’re about two seconds away from finding san and slapping him. did they really plan this too? 

“why didn’t he come get them?” you ask as you remember what you’re here to find. your eyes scan the aisle behind seonghwa and you spot the paint cans at the end, but he’s in your way.

“i offered,” he says with a shrug.

“you must be a really good friend, then.”

“well you did call me perfect yesterday, so...” he trails off, smirking. you roll your eyes at him but can’t help the blush creeping up your neck. he interrupts his new favorite activity of staring deeply into your eyes (just to fluster you, of course) and he sees that you’re looking past him at the shelves of paint. “you need something down here?” 

“um, yeah, the spray paint,” you reply, awkwardly trying to skirt around him to get into the aisle. he steps aside to let you through, but still follows you as you search for the color you want.

“what are you making?” 

“i’m painting a scuffed up dresser i’ve had for a while, so i want something simple that’ll go with the rest of the things in my room,” you explain as you stop walking and crane your neck to scan the bottles on the top shelf. seonghwa stops behind you and places his hand on the small of your back as he reaches for a can just out of your reach.

“what about this one?” he offers, handing you a can of light blue paint. it’s really pretty, and it’ll stand out with the white furniture you already have, but you really like it.

“oh, that’s perfect!” you say as you take the can from his hands.

“there you go again,” seonghwa teases, and you shoot him a questioning look. he smiles as he responds. “calling me perfect?”

“i said the paint was perfect, weirdo,” you snap. “but thank you for finding this.”

“anytime,” he tells you. “you said your favorite color was blue right?”

“right...” you mumble, thinking back to the conversation you had at the bakery yesterday. “how’d you remember?”

“ugh, i’m hurt!” he exclaims, hand flying to his chest in mock surprise. “i can’t believe you already forgot that it’s my favorite color too.”

“hm, guess i was too distracted by how perfect you are,” you joke. seonghwa laughs at that, a sharp sound that seemed to catch him off guard. he covers his mouth to stifle the sound, but you’re close enough to the cash register now that it draws attention from san and mingi.

“find what you need?” san asks with a shit eating grin.

“hm, just about,” you say as you place the paint on the counter. “couldn’t find a hammer big enough to drop on your head, though.”

“wow, harsh,” san scoffs. “and to think i brought you here out of the goodness of my heart.”

you’re too busy half-bickering with san to notice that seonghwa has paid for your paint and the pens he promised hongjoong. he mumbles something to mingi, who then hands him a piece of paper. he scribbles his number down for you before handing you the can and his number. 

“i gotta go, but i’ll see you later for study group, right?” he confirms. you’re still processing the fact that he keeps buying things for you and you can’t respond in time, so san steps in.

“yeah, y/n will be there,” san assures seonghwa. he nods and shoots you one last smile before he excuses himself and leaves. you’re stuck with san and that stupid grin again. he looks at you and then checks the paper with seonghwa’s number on it. “yep, i think you got what you needed.”

-

even though seonghwa very willingly gave you his number, you’re still afraid to text him. it’s kind of hard to believe that he’s into you the way you’re into him, so you’re fine with just seeing him for study dates. or, uh, not study dates. study gatherings. with just the two of you. because the other guys have bailed, again.

this time, though, you’re not working on music theory. you have an assignemnt due for your ethics class, and you need family and friends to read about your results from this morals test. you wanted san to do it, but he’s currently “chasing a sweet piece of ass,” whatever that means. he’s probably bothering his lab partner that he claims descended from greek gods. you would usually tease him for saying something like that, but it’s a thought you’ve had about seonghwa, so you kept your mouth shut.

anyway, you know you need someone to answer these questions for you, but you can’t bring yourself to ask seonghwa. he kept up his “perfect” demeanor again today, showing up at the bookstore before you so he could get you the coffee you like. you would ask why he keeps doing things like this for you, remembering your favorite color and your coffee order, but you’re afraid he’ll stop if you bring it up. little do you know, every time he learns something new about you, he writes it down in his notes app, keeping a running tab of the things you like.

“y/n?” you hear him ask. his voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you realize you’ve been staring at him this whole time. the smirk you’ve become so familiar with makes another appearance as he gets ready to tease you. “something on your mind?”

“no, i...no,” you stutter. “i’m just thinking.”

“about what?” he questions as he lifts his coffee cup to his lips. you watch the way he slightly pouts them before taking a sip and you have to stop yourself from staring again.

“just this ethics assignment i want to finish,” you explain. “sorry, i didn’t realize i was staring at you.”

“must be an important assignment,” he nods, leaning forward to put his cup back on the table in front of you. you get another glimpse at the star tattoo on his neck as he does. “because i was definitely staring at you too, and you didn’t even notice.”

“oh?” 

“yep,” he confirms. “i was giving you my best puppy dog eyes and everything.”

“puppy dog eyes?” you ask, unsure of what’s coming. “do you need something?”

“eh, not really,” he shrugs. “i’m just worried.”

“why?”

“you never texted me the other night.”

“after the art store?” you ask incredulously. 

“isn’t that when i gave you my number?” he smirks. 

“i didn’t think you wanted me to text you immediately...”

“well, it’s been three days and i still don’t have your number,” he pouts. 

“hold on a second,” you mumble, reaching for your bag. you fumble around in there, searching for the piece of paper with seonghwa’s number on it as he watches you fondly.

“what are you doing?”

“looking for your number,” you reply like it’s obvious. seonghwa laughs a little and places his hand on your arm to stop you. 

“you do know i’m right next to you, and i could just put my number in myself?” he asks, eyes sparkling as he half-smiles at you. you blush, because no, you weren’t thinking about that. you sheepishly hand him your phone and watch as he adds his number and then texts himself. he gives your phone back and replaces it with his own before asking, “what’s your favorite emoji?”

“um, the smiling cowboy?” you offer, not sure why he’s asking. he laughs again, like he did in the art store, but this time it’s harder for him to quiet the breathy giggles coming from his chest.

“why that one?” he asks, typing something quickly.

“it’s funny,” you shrug. “why?”

“needed something cute to put next to your name, but you’re a weirdo, so it’s not as cute as i was imagining,” he explains, showing you the contact card in his phone. your number is saved as “y/n 🥰🤠” and you can’t help but laugh. you look up at seonghwa, warmth in your eyes, and he starts laughing too.

“see?” you giggle. “it is funny.”

“whatever, at least now i have your number.”

-

after exchanging numbers with seonghwa, you’re starting to let yourself believe little by little that he might feel the same way you do. it’s not anything serious, but there’s definitely something there. the texts he sends are always flirtatious, and it has your heart beating faster every time you get a notification, hoping that it’s him. you’re in the middle of studying for your spanish final when you feel your phone vibrate on the bed next to you, and you smile when you see who it’s from.

seonghwa 🥺💫, 6:28pm: are you busy rn?

you, 6:28pm: not really, just studying

seonghwa 🥺💫: can’t be studying too much if you replied that quickly 🥸

you: what do u want

seonghwa 🥺💫: be nice :-(

you: sorry

you: hi seonghwa, how are you? what do you want.

seonghwa 🥺💫: come get dinner with me? 

you: right now?

seonghwa 🥺💫: no, in 30 years. yes right now 

you: but i’m studying ://

seonghwa 🥺💫: liar!

you: fine, when and where?

seonghwa 🥺💫: i’ll pick you up in ten 🤠

- 

“you sure like staying close to campus, huh?” you ask seonghwa as he walks you about a block from your usual hangout and to a little hole in the wall restaurant that looks like it could seat maybe 20 people, uncomfortably. 

“i know what i like,” he responds with a shrug. “speaking of things i like, you look nice.”

“oh, thank you,” you semi-laugh. you’d been close to panic trying to figure out what to wear (because you’re not sure if this is a date) so you went with something simple, but you’re glad seonghwa likes it. not that you wanted to impress him. but you did, a little. anyway, he looks...well, perfect, wearing black ripped jeans and a velvet-y navy shirt. you continually have to stop yourself from reaching out and stroking his arm just to feel the soft fabric (and maybe his muscles). 

“so i take it you’ve never been here before?” he asks as he hands you a menu. you shake your head no in response. you can’t tell if he’s doing it intentionally, but seonghwa leans closer into your side as he explains. “you pick a main entree, but each dish comes with these sides. they say no substitutes, but i know the guy behind the counter so you can ask for more of something else if you don’t like one of them.”

“i might do that,” you say. “i don’t really want dumplings, so could i get extra sweet potatoes?”

“of course,” he nods, noting the way you smile slightly. it makes your eyes light up, and his heart does a little backflip knowing that he’s the reason for it. well, the sweet potatoes probably are, but he’s the one getting the sweet potatoes, so he’s taking that win for himself. once you both confirm what you want, he places his hand on your back and guides you to the counter.

“hey seonghwa!” the tall guy with a lopsided smile behind the register greets. “long time no see. who’s your friend?”

“hey yunho,” seonghwa smiles back. “this is y/n, a vip, so make sure you give us the good stuff.”

“extra sweet potatoes?” yunho laughs. you and seonghwa both nod as yunho continues taking your order, and you find yourself comfortably leaning into seonghwa as you wait for yunho to calculate the price. before seonghwa can even think about taking his wallet out, you’re handing yunho cash for the food, which makes seonghwa sputter.

“what? y/n, i was going to pay,” he whines, and you simply shake your head.

“nope, my turn,” you tell him. “you’ve bought me coffee too many times.”

“but i asked you out! i don’t want you to pay on our first date if i’m the one who brought you here,” he continues to complain.

“so this is a date?” you confirm, right as yunho asks suggestively “oh, this is a date?”

“yunho, give y/n’s money back,” seonghwa says, ignoring the two of you. “i’m paying.”

“yunho, if you give me that money i’ll be forced to leave and stand seonghwa up for our date,” you say, emphasizing the last word. now you’re glad you wore clean pants.

“seonghwa, why don’t you let y/n pay for this, and then you can get the next one?” yunho suggests, sending you a wink before he turns to the kitchen to share your order with the chef. you’re left with a flustered seonghwa, which is a sight you’re not used to, and it makes you laugh.

“c’mon,” you say as you pull on his arm. “let’s go find a table.”

you’re the only ones in the restaurant, so the food comes out pretty quick, and you have to stifle a laugh when you see that someone has arranged the sweet potatoes on a separate plate in the shape of a heart. seonghwa blushes at this, and you’re taken aback by how shy he’s suddenly become.

for some reason, seonghwa showing signs of nervousness puts you at ease, and you lead the conversation to something stupid san told you about the boys and their shenanigans at their dorm. the story has seonghwa laughing, and he confirms that yes, yeosang does have a sword by the tv, and yes, hongjoong did threaten to use it on him after he lost an intense match of fifa. 

“in hongjoong’s defense,” seonghwa begins, “i do think yeosang cheated. wooyoung was definitely helping him.”

“it still sounds ridiculous,” you tell him. “why does anybody need a sword?”

“yeosang is just...yeosang,” seonghwa replies. “he’s weird but he won’t admit that to anyone.”

“i’m just saying, if i went to someone’s house and there was a katana by the tv, i’d haul my ass outta there.” seonghwa giggles at how serious you look, but this conversation reminds him...

“you never showed me your room,” he says bluntly. you pause for a moment, spoon halfway to your mouth, and seonghwa realizes how that must sound. “i mean, the paint, your dresser. you never showed me a picture once you fixed it up.”

“oh,” you breathe out. “let me grab my phone, i can show you.”

“show him what?” a familiar voice suddenly asks from the seat next to you. when you notice that san, and some of your other friends, have snuck their way into the restaurant, you have to keep yourself from groaning.

��why are you here.”

“i’m hungry,” san replies, then turns to seonghwa. “you didn’t tell us you were getting dinner.”

“i didn’t want to,” seonghwa deadpans. “ i wanted it to be just me and y/n.”

“too late for that, pal,” honjoong says as he slides into the seat across from you. “hi y/n.”

“hey hongjoong,” you grumble. “please tell me you’re getting your food to go.”

“we were, but then we saw our good friends eating all by themselves and thought we should join them,” hongjoong teases. by now, the rest of the boys have sat down around you, some at other tables, and one of them you don’t recognize. that must be jongho, their younger “roommate” who technically lives in first year housing but doesn’t get along with the other guy in his room. you’ve heard seonghwa complain that jongho eats all of his snacks. 

“well, i hope you enjoy your food, but seonghwa and i were just about to leave,” you lie, looking at seonghwa with a stare that pleads ‘please go along with this.’

“where are you going?” wooyoung asks, one table over.

“my apartment,” you respond quickly, standing up as seonghwa follows your cue with a stupidly adorable look on his face.

“oh, perfect!” san chirps. “we’ll come with you!”

- 

so much for your date with seonghwa. it was hard to stop the boys from insisting they all join you at your apartment, especially after yunho said his shift was over and he could really use some destressing. and by destressing he meant booze, so you currently have 8 tipsy boys scattered across your living room. if you thought they were loud before...it’s amazing that your neighbors haven’t complained yet. 

it started off innocent enough, you were just playing card games at first and the loser of each round had to drink. then it turned into never have i ever, and each time you put a finger down you had to drink. then yeosang suggested shots, and it really went downhill from there. san tried convincing everyone to play a round of spin the bottle just for the chance of making you and seonghwa kiss, but mingi and wooyoung were the only ones down, so majority ruled there. 

“san, stop pouting,” you laugh, noticing that he’s upset over his evil plan not working out.

“it’s fine,” he lies, duck lips on full display. 

“spin the bottle is such a tween-y game too,” jongho pipes in. “and we’re adults, so it would be kinda stupid to play it anyway.”

“says the baby of the group,” yeosang scoffs. 

“what about truth or dare?” hongjoong suggests. “still immature, but we can make it fun.”

“yes!” san shouts, suddenly back in a positive mood. 

“i’ll start,” mingi volunteers. he takes a deep breath as he looks around the room, eyes narrowing when he looks at you and seonghwa. you’re currently smushed into your armchair together, not really by choice, because the couch is completely full and neither of you wanted to sit on the floor (you know how dirty it is, and seonghwa has a bad hip). thankfully, mingi has mercy on you and directs his gaze to his best friend. “yunho, truth or dare?”

“truth,” yunho slurs out. you’d say he’s the opposite of stressed by now.

“did you sleep with that girl you met at the party last week?”

“no,” yunho replies quickly, cheeks turning a knowing shade of red. “i just walked her home.”

“and went missing until the next morning?” yeosang asks. he gets a few snickers, and you laugh a little too because you remember san and wooyoung talking about their friend who disappeared for a few hours last weekend.

“whatever,” yunho groans. “yeosang. truth or dare.”

“dare,” yeosang chooses confidently. 

“kiss wooyoung on the cheek.”

“no,” he replies, just as confidently. 

“then take another shot,” yunho concedes, waving his hand at the stubborn boy. wooyoung mumbles something about how kissable he is as yeosang downs what looks like more than just a regular shot.

“this is boring,” jongho whines, which makes him the next target. he chooses dare, and you have to detach yourself from seonghwa so you can go into your kitchen and find the lemon juice in your fridge so jongho can chug what’s left. he’s sputtering after a few sips and gives up, grumbling up to you, “ i hate you for that.”

“hey, it wasn’t my dare,” you defend yourself. “you owe me lemon juice.”

“i’ll give it to you if you choose dare,” jongho challenges. you roll your eyes and take the bait, earning a round of ooo’s from the boys around you. 

“make her kiss seonghwa,” someone hisses.

“or me!” wooyoung chirps. jongho looks over at him with a death glare, and wooyoung shrugs. “i just want someone to want to kiss me.”

“i think you’re cut off,” hongjoong says as he leans across your coffee table to move the bottle away from wooyoung.

“everyone be quiet!” san shouts. “jongho has to give y/n a dare.”

“hmmm,” jongho starts, tapping his finger on his chin. “what should i do?”

“for someone who said this was boring, you’re really milking this,” seonghwa says under his breath. you’re perched on the arm of the chair, close enough to hear him, but thankfully no one else does.

“what’s that other childish game called?” jongho wonders aloud. “seven minutes in heaven? i think you should do that with seonghwa.”

“do i have to?” you pout, and your reluctance makes seonghwa stiffen. he thinks you said that because you’re uncomfortable, and not because you don’t want the boys pressing their ear up to the door while the two of you make out.

“rules are rules,” hongjoong concludes, nodding his head toward your room. “go have fun. i’ll keep the kids from bothering you.”

you look to seonghwa, who isn’t looking directly at you. you tentatively take his hand, giving it a squeeze before you stand up and lead him to your room. there are so many catcalls, whistles and cheers coming from your friends that you barely hear san say “take your time! it doesn’t have to be just seven minutes!”

once you get to your room, you let seonghwa go in first and then you lock the door behind you. he quirks an eyebrow at that, and you shrug shyly. 

“don’t want one of them bursting in,” you explain. seonghwa nods, and you both fall silent. it’s not necessarily awkward, just tense. you both want to do what seven minutes in heaven is meant for, but you’re not gonna make the first move and seonghwa still isn’t sure you even want to be in this situation. so he takes this time to turn around and take your room in, pointing to your dresser.

“is this it?” he asks. you hum out a yes in response, and he runs his hand over the freshly painted wood. “it looks nice. whoever picked out the color sure knows what he’s doing.”

“eh, he’s just lucky,” you joke, and you both laugh. you move to stand next to him and place your hand on top of his. “sorry we couldn’t finish our date.” 

“sorry my friends are so annoying,” seonghwa adds. 

“sorry san pushed me into your lap earlier,” you continue, and seonghwa smirks.

“well, i didn’t mind that,” he says. “i wanted you to sit with me, but i didn’t want to draw attention.”

“oh,” you squeak, feeling a blush on its way to your cheeks. a heavy silence falls over you, and seonghwa is the first to break it.

“listen, if you don’t want to kiss me, that’s cool,” he begins. “i kinda got the vibe earlier that you didn’t want to do this, and that’s cool. if you don’t want to do this we’re still cool.”

“you don’t sound very cool about it,” you chuckle, and seonghwa’s face flushes. “but i was only nervous because i didn’t know if you wanted to kiss me.”

“oh i want to kiss you,” he says firmly. “have for a while.”

“why don’t you do it then?” you challenge. seonghwa takes a step closer to you, and before you know it he’s pinned you against your dresser. you balance your hands on it and the cool wood helps you ground yourself as your body heats up from having seonghwa so close.

“are you sure?” he asks, only a few inches from your face. you nod and whisper out “i’m sure” and seonghwa quickly cups your face and smothers you in a kiss. it starts off slow, and your face warms at his touch. once you relax into it you move your lips against his, nipping at his bottom lip slightly and earning a groan from the man before you. you take the chance to slip your tongue past his lips as you bring your hands up to the nape of his neck, slowly brushing through his soft hair. his hands find their way to your waist, gripping tightly but not too hard, and he leans in to get as close to you as possible. you keep kissing for a few moments, but eventually you need to breathe so you lightly tap on his neck. he pulls back, breathing heavy, and his smile shines like the most beautiful stars in the sky. “so?”

“so?” you repeat, equally out of breath.

“that was nice.”

“it was.”

“the boys are gonna know we made out.”

“of course they are,” you laugh. “your lips look swollen.”

“so do yours,” he counters. 

“but wasn’t that the whole point of us coming in here?” you ask. your hands have fallen to his chest, and you finally get a chance to smooth out the soft velvet of his shirt. and you notice his chest is very, uh, firm, too.

“we didn’t have to kiss,” he says with a shrug. “we could’ve just talked.”

“about what?” you ask with a smile.

“my keen eye for interior design,” he replies. “how sexy you look in low lighting.”

“so you think i’m sexy?” you tease, and seonghwa rolls his eyes.

“i just had my tongue in your mouth, does that answer your question?”

another silence comes over you both, but this one is lighter than before. you’re subconsciously rubbing your hands over his shirt, and seonghwa brings a hand up to cover yours, stopping it right over his heart.

“we don’t have to tell them,” you offer. “i mean, they kept it a secret from us that they were trying to get us together this whole time.”

“oh no, i was fully aware of that,” seonghwa tells you, and you scoff. “do you think i really wanted to get out past midnight just to buy hongjoong some expensive markers? he never even paid me for them.”

“well now i really don’t want to tell them we kissed,” you whine. “how could everyone be in on this except me?”

“it was more fun that way,” seonghwa teases before pecking your lips. “but we can keep this between us, for now.”

“i think we should,” you say with a nod of finality. “it’s more fun that way.”

“c’mon, let’s go back out there before they send a search party.”

you return to the living room before seonghwa (so he can sneak into the bathroom and fix his hair) and you find most of the boys asleep on the floor. you sigh as your eyes meet hongjoong’s, and he shrugs.

“at least they didn’t bother you,” he says. 

“can you help me find pillows and blankets for them, please?” you ask, and he nods before jumping into action. he throws one of the couch pillows down to yeosang, who takes it and hugs it to his chest. you have a couple extras in your hall closet and you pass them to yunho, who’s sitting up when you come back. he places one under mingi and another under jongho and keeps the last one for himself. san and wooyoung are on the couch, and hongjoong tells you he’s fine with the armchair. seonghwa is out of the bathroom by now, and, like the perfect man he is, he’s carrying blankets in his arms. the three of you work on getting all the boys covered before you realize that seonghwa doesn’t have a place to sleep.

“i can take another spot on the floor,” he assures you. “do you have another pillow i can use?”

“let him sleep in your room, y/n,” san mumbles from underneath wooyoung. you pause and look at seonghwa, who’s looking back at you with something you can’t read in his eyes. 

“it’s not a bad idea,” hongjoong pipes in from somewhere within the blanket cocoon he made for himself. “he was just there. you can put him on the floor.”

“y/n?” seonghwa asks, pulling your attention back to him. “i don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable.” 

you would try to fight it, so you could hopefully ignore taunts from the boys in the morning, but you’re suddenly really tired and you just want to lay down.

“i’m ok with it if you are,” you yawn. “take the rest of those blankets, we can use those for your bed.”

“make good choices,” honjoong mumbles as seonghwa leads you back to your room, and you hear san going “oooooo” as you close your door a second time tonight. this time you don’t lock it though, and when you turn around you see the blankets on the floor and seonghwa sprawled out on your usual side of the bed, so you tell him.

“well why don’t you come join me then?” he teases with a grin. you blush and shake your head.

“scoot over.”

he does, but only by an inch. he still looks at you with that flirty glint in his eyes, and you can only shake your head again as you crawl into the tiny space next to him. he immediately wraps an arm around your waist and gives you a tight hug, placing a kiss on your shoulder.

“thank you,” he whispers into your back.

“for what?” you reply.

“for not putting me on the floor. and for liking me.”

-

you just woke up from maybe the best night of sleep you’ve ever had. seonghwa’s arms and legs are draped over yours, so you can’t get up without waking him, but having him so close is a welcome source of warmth. your apartment is quiet, and the sun is peacefully filtering into your room through your curtain. it’s the perfect moment, with your perfect boy, until- 

“i think they’re still asleep,” you hear someone whisper from the hallway.

“wooyoung, leave them alone!” another voice hisses. there’s silence for a moment, and then a smack, followed by someone jiggling the doorknob to your room. you quickly untangle yourself from seonghwa before you watch as the door cracks open a bit, revealing wooyoung in all his bed-headed glory. you close your eyes as much as you can while still peeking at who’s sneaking into your room, and you see jongho close behind him. he must’ve been the one who got smacked. or did the smacking. either way, they’re both staring at you and seonghwa in your bed, but you notice wooyoung smile and pause.

“i knew it! they definitely got together last night.”

“how do you know?” jongho asks. “maybe y/n let seonghwa sleep on the bed because of his old man hips.”

“whatever. they’re in the same bed, so that’s at least something,” wooyoung replies. “lame, but still something.”

“what did you expect?” jongho asks incredulously. “you thought we would catch them doing it?”

“i mean, not exactly, but couldn’t i get a little cuddling maybe?”

“you want me to cuddle you hyung?” jongho deadpans.

“yes, actually-”

“hey!” a third voice whisper shouts. you hear footsteps and then you see hongjoong pulling wooyoung out of your room by the neck of his shirt. “leave them alone. and you, jongho, i’m surprised you’re playing along with this.”

“well...” jongho mumbles.

“well what?” hongjoong asks, sounding like the mom-est mom to ever mom.

“they’re the only ones that know how to make breakfast.”

“both of you, out! now!” hongjoong semi-shouts, and you feel seonghwa stirring behind you. hongjoong doesn’t realize you’re both awake and closes the door as he leaves.

“what time is it?” seonghwa grumbles out, and your heart skips a beat hearing how deep his voice is when he wakes up.

“early,” you reply, turning around to be face to face with him. his arms slowly snake around you as you look up at him and share a sleepy smile. “how can you look this good when you first wake up?”

“weird, i wanted to ask you the same thing,” seonghwa replies, leaning in to kiss you but you touch your fingers to his lips and stop him, so he pouts. 

“uh uh, not until i brush my teeth,” you say as you try to get up, but seonghwa’s grip on your waist keeps you down.

“please,” he pouts again, sparkly eyes on full display as he pleads with you. it takes about half a second for you to cave and kiss him quickly, catching him off guard. he shifts to pull you on top of him and deepen the kiss, but he loses his grip on you and you’re able to slip out of bed before he can stop you. a noise comes from deep in his chest that almost sounds like a growl, and you shoot him a glare.

“hey, you got your kiss,” you warn. “now i’m going to make breakfast for the gremlins. do you want to help me?”

-

after the intrusion into your bedroom, wooyoung obviously told the boys what he saw. but, like jongho said, most of them thought it was just because of seonghwa’s hips that made you share a bed with him. there wasn’t enough evidence otherwise, and none of them really expected either of you to make a move despite their efforts. but they’re starting to get suspicious.

little do they know, after the set up fell into place, seonghwa wanted to take you on a real date. the only way to do that without your friends knowing was to sneak around without them, which was kind of fun. it was nice having this bubble with seonghwa, just the two of you, but it was getting harder to avoid your friends. seonghwa lived with them after all, so they pestered him about how often he was out and who he might be out with. 

“san keeps asking if you’re a good kisser. i told him i didn’t know, and then he asked if he could find out for me. should i be concerned about that?”

“we need to be more careful, yeosang said he saw us at the taco place yesterday, and he said we hold hands weird.”

“hongjoong has been saving seats for us at the bookstore, and each time we don’t show up i think he steals something from me.”

you have been ditching study group lately, but that’s more because you need to do some deep studying for your other finals and your friends are too much of a distraction. seonghwa can be distracting too, but at least he can take a hint and back down when you really need to focus. it’s been nice actually, just spending time in his presence. you were so nervous around him just a few weeks ago, and now you feel like you could trust him with just about anything.

today, you don’t get any personal study time, though. your music theory final is coming up and seonghwa wants you to get all the terms memorized before the review session in class tomorrow. he’s motivating you with a kiss for each right answer and the promise of him making dinner once you’re done. you’re currently cruising on five wrong in a row, and you’re getting frustrated. 

“c’mon y/n, you know this,” seonghwa encourages you, but you just whine in response. “we did this like four minutes ago, and i told you the answer so you could remember it.”

“yeah, well i obviously didn’t,” you snap, and seonghwa fakes being hurt. “sorry. can we skip this and come back to it?”

“sure,” he agrees quickly. “but first you need to write down the circle of fifths for me.” 

“i hate you.”

“hm, wrong answer,” he hums. “but kiss anyway. maybe that’ll keep you from getting so grumpy.”

“i am not grumpy,” you defend after kissing him gently. “i’m stressed.”

“you know what you need?”

“hm?”

“you need to go on another date,” he begins. “with me, obviously.”

“damn, i wanted to know if yunho was free,” you tease, and seonghwa doesn’t think it’s funny. “now who’s grumpy?”

“ignoring that,” he scoffs, but you can tell he’s trying not to smile. 

“when would we go? i’m really busy the next few days.”

“what about after class? we could both clean up and do something nice before we get some dinner?” seonghwa suggests. “why don’t we go to that art exhibit you told me about?”

“ugh,” you groan as you learn your head on his shoulder. “that sounds amazing, but we both said we’d be at study group tomorrow, remember? hongjoong practically begged me to be there, and i said i would ask you to come.”

“what about not letting them know we’re a thing?” he pouts. you don’t tell him about the youngest two that saw you all cuddled up, but instead you assure him that you inviting him to study group wouldn’t look unusual to the boys.

“plus, if we both cancel last minute, they’d know for sure we were up to something together,” you continue. “so yes, we need to go on another date, but just not tomorrow.”

“fine,” he mumbles. “now i am grumpy.”

“would something from the cafe make it better, my little boba ball?” you ask in a baby voice.

“ooh, actually, boba sounds good,” seonghwa smiles. “let’s go.”

-

the next day you get to the bookstore late because your professor gave a pop quiz at the end of class and you’ve been so busy studying music theory you forgot to study for anything else, so you needed all the time you could get. when you finally arrive, all of the boys are there, surprisingly. since you’ve never seen yunho, mingi and jongho here before you’re a little confused, but happy to see them nonetheless. 

as you walk up to the usual spot, you notice a coffee cup sitting in front of an empty chair, and you point to it as the boys greet you.

“is this for me?” you ask, placing your bag on the ground before grabbing the warm mug. “thank you, coffee angel.”

“you’re welcome, actual angel,” seonghwa replies, and you almost choke on your first sip. what is he doing?? you’re supposed to be sneaky sneaks and keep your relationship quiet, but here he is flirting with you in front of everyone!

except, that’s what he did before you started dating too, so it’s not out of the ordinary. in fact, no one pays any mind to it, so you’re left with a burnt tongue and blushy cheeks while seonghwa looks at you with a stare that only you would understand. you quickly shoot him a wink before you put your mug down and reach for your notes.

“um, hello? what are you guys doing?” you ask yeosang next to you, who’s rabidly tapping at his phone, just like everyone else. if they weren’t distracted they might have picked up on the vibes between you and seonghwa, but thankfully they’re the oblivious ones now.

“playing a game,” half of them respond, just as hongjoong says “writing lyrics” and jongho mumbles “texting my mom.”

“aren’t we supposed to study?” you ask. “or did you already learn everything in the world while i was gone?”

“well you’ve missed a lot of study sessions, y/n,” san begins. “so yes, we have learned everything. now we just come here to hang out.”

“so then why did you insist on me being here, joong?” you ask newly orange-haired hongjoong. it’s been a while since you’ve seen him, he must’ve dyed it recently. 

“we missed hanging out with you,” he says simply, eyes peeking up from his phone. your heart constricts at this, and you catch seonghwa’s eyes again. you might have to rethink the whole sneaking around thing if they really do miss you.

“yeah, we missed you AND we had to make sure you and seonghwa are still spending time together,” wooyoung adds, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“where have you been anyway?” yeosang asks. “you don’t have other friends.”

“yes i do,” you scoff.”

“give me names and numbers.”

“ignore him,” yunho tells you, and you nod.

“i always do. but i’ve been really stressed about finals, so i had to do some soul searching on my own to decide if i need to graduate or not.”

“seems fair,” mingi agrees. “i almost had to drop a class.”

“because he forgot he was even enrolled in it,” jongho clarifies, and you laugh.

“but seonghwa has been missing a lot lately too,” san starts. “i wonder what he’s been doing.”

“or who,” wooyoung snickers, and hongjoong reaches over mingi to slap him.

“i haven’t been feeling well,” seonghwa says with a shrug. “i’ve mostly been in my room, or at the pharmacy to get medicine.”

“oh, so you could’ve bought new paper towels for the dorm then, huh?” hongjoong asks, and as the two of them start to bicker, yeosang nudges your arm.

“i saw you two,” he says quietly. “at the mexican restaurant.”

“i know,” you whisper back. 

“so i know you’re dating.”

“are you gonna say anything?”

“hmmm, no,” he thinks. “but you have to buy my silence.”

“with coffee?” you offer, and yeosang smiles. he stands up and puts his phone away before speaking, looking directly at seonghwa.

“my best friend y/n is gonna buy me coffee, we’ll be back,” he says as he loops his arm around your shoulders. seonghwa watches as you walk away (and stares at your ass) but he’s mostly thinking about how he’s a little jealous right now. like, he knows you wouldn’t do anything, he trusts you, but he doesn’t want his friends thinking you have a thing for anyone but him. so while you’re gone, he talks.

“i haven’t been sick,” he admits. “i’ve been seeing y/n.”

“we all knew, dude,” hongjoong says casually, and everyone agrees.

“then why didn’t you say anything?!”

“because YOU weren’t saying anything,” jongho replies.

“yeah, we figured that we did enough trying to get the two of you together, so if you didn’t end up dating then that was your fault. we were just waiting on you to make a move,” san explains. 

“then why did you let us lie to you like that?”

“it was fun,” wooyoung shrugs. “by the way, did y/n let you sleep in the bed because of your hips, or because you wanted to cuddle?”

the red tint on seonghwa’s cheeks gives him away, and the boys start laughing and ooo’ing so loud he’s afraid you’ll hear it over by the coffee counter.

“ok, ok, just. keep this quiet for now,” he says. “y/n may still want this to be private.”

“but you just told us about it,” yunho says. “why would you do that if you knew y/n wouldn’t want you to?”

“well,” seonghwa begins. “i need your help with a date.”

-

seemingly by an act of god, you have time this weekend to go on a date with seonghwa. little did you know, he’s the reason your plans suddenly freed up. san said you could critique him and wooyoung for their dance final another day, hongjoong said he would send you his music theory notes from the review and save you hours of studying and then yeosang found the exact spanish book you needed to finish your performance final ahead of time. it was the perfect circumstances, orchestrated by your perfect boy and his perfect-adjacent friends, who all agreed to help him with this (hopefully) perfect date. 

it starts with seonghwa picking you up from your apartment, coffee in hand. 

“you’re the man of my dreams, you know that?” you say in passing as you grab the warm to-go cup. even if you were only saying it lightly, it made seonghwa’s heart soar. you notice he hasn’t said anything to you, so you meet his eyes to find them full of stars like always, but this time there’s something scheme-y in there. he’s up to something.

“are you ready for the best date of your life?” he asks with a smile that puts the stars in his eyes to shame.

“yes, i think,” you respond, grabbing your keys and locking your door. “but i don’t know what we’re doing.”

“and it will stay that way until we get there,” seonghwa says firmly as he laces his hand into yours. you squeeze his hand and sigh.

“i guess i just have to trust you then.”

“but that won’t be hard right?”

“wait, didn’t you say something earlier about going to that art exhibit? is that it?” you question, even though you know he won’t budge. seonghwa just shakes his head no and punches the button for the elevator. a moment of silence passes before you guess again. “a movie? you rented out a movie theater, like you said you wanted to?”

“i tried, but it was expensive,” he admits and you have to laugh. “funds are tight right now.”

“i watched you buy a couple hundred dollars worth of legos the other day babe. maybe that’s why the date fund is lacking.”

“you’re not coming between me and my collectables, y/n,” seonghwa scolds. the elevator pings to open to the parking garage under your building, and you’re confused for a moment before he explains. “i want this to be a nice date, so yunho let me borrow his car. it would be no fun if we show up all sweaty because we were walking.”

yunho’s car, which is actually pretty nice thanks to all the tips he gets from flirting with clientele, is parked by the elevator. seonghwa leads you to your door and opens it for you, revealing a basket of flowers and candies in the seat. you coo as you pick it up, and seonghwa looks on proudly. you lean over to give him a kiss, and you whisper your thanks as you pull away.

“that was mingi’s idea,” seonghwa tells you, smiling brightly “i got all your favorites.”

“i see that.”

“but look around the flowers,” he guides you. “there’s something else.”

you hold the basket up to eye level, noticing the silver sparkle around the stems of the flowers. is it glitter? you tug at a flower and realize it’s a chain, and attached is a hand drawn star charm to match the tattoo on the back of seonghwa’s neck. 

“seonghwa, this is beautiful,” you say breathlessly. “we’re gonna match! that’s so cute. who’s idea was this?”

“would you believe me if i said it was mine?”

“no.”

“that’s what jongho said too,” seonghwa laughs. “it was his idea.”

“tell him thank you,” you say as you play with the charm. “mingi and yunho too. it’s a good date so far.”

“oh baby, it hasn’t officially started yet.”

-

in the car, seonghwa plays a mix of songs that he really likes, and he’s mixed in some of your favorites too. he has to keep convincing you that the songs aren’t clues, because you ask every time a new song plays.

“so are the songs just distractions?” you ask, finally giving up on getting any information out of him. 

“why do you ask that?” he smirks as he turns down a familiar road.

“because i can tell you just took the long way to the record store,” you explain. “are you stalling?”

“me, what? why?” his response does nothing to manage your suspicions, and suddenly you remember how your friends have helped with the date so far. are they all in on this? you need answers.

“seonghwa, i swear to god, if san or wooyoung jumps out to surprise me wherever we’re going-”

“that won’t happen,” seonghwa laughs while he parks the car. “we’re here anyway, and i promise this is the last surprise of the night.”

“the record store?” you question, looking up at the shop you’ve been to countless times to shop and to bother hongjoong while he works. 

“yeah, you said there was a new album out you wanted to get, right?”

“yeah,” you blush. “but i just said that in passing, i didn’t expect you to remember.”

“y/n, i want to know everything about you,” seonghwa says seriously. “so of course i remembered. wait, don’t get out yet. i’ll open the door for you.”

as seonghwa helps you out of the car, you quiz him on the other things you’ve said around him that you didn’t think he remembered. sadly, he does remember you saying your favorite disney movie is ratatouille and you’ve always wanted to try the mushroom/cheese concoction remy makes in the first scene.

“that’s a little embarrassing,” you sigh as you reach for the door. you’re going to complain some more about how seonghwa doesn’t need to remember everything about you, but the sight in front of you makes you stop mid-breath.

the record store has been decorated from floor to ceiling in fairy lights, and there’s more flowers all over the place. as you look around, you notice the flowers are tucked in the shelves next to your favorite artists. next to the door is the album you were talking about, and a little further down you see your favorite album of all time with a few extra flowers next to it. you’re still taking everything in when you notice hongjoong behind the counter.

“did you help him with this?” you ask breathlessly, and hongjoong nods. 

“yeah, but the flowers next to the albums was my idea,” hongjoong explains. “we’re running a new special called “y’n’s favorites” so everything that’s marked with a flower is yours, if you want it. everything is on the house.” 

“i...i don’t know what to say,” you start. you turn to seonghwa and there are those starry eyes that you love to see. you reach out to cup his face and smile. “thank you. this is...perfect.”

“it’s even more perfect now that i’m here!” wooyoung shouts from the front door of the shop, followed by san and yeosang. you look at seonghwa and all he does is laugh.

“what? at least he didn’t jump out and scare you,” seonghwa teases.

“oh, i would never,” wooyoung nods with a half-serious look on his face. “but i definitely wouldn’t do that when i have your dinner in my hands, i can’t let all this hard work spill.”

“especially not on my clean floor,” hongjoong warns. 

“you made dinner for us?” you ask wooyoung, but you’re looking at seonghwa, who simply shrugs.

“yep, i made one of your favorites and then threw in a couple recipes i thought you’d both like,” wooyoung says as he and the two other boys place food down on the counter by the register.

“and what did you two help with?” you ask san and yeosang.

“who do you think made this place so beautiful?” yeosang asks incredulously.

“yeosang did the lights and i bought all the flowers,” san explains with a smile that makes his eyes turn into happy half moons. “you’d be surprised how many places i had to go to get all your favorites.”

“i really don’t know what to say,” you whisper in disbelief. “i can’t believe you all did this for me.”

“it was all seonghwa’s idea,” san tells you. “we did it for both of you.”

“yeah, we’re just his little minions,” yeosang jokes, and wooyoung giggles. 

“you tell me how that food tastes, got it?” he asks as he backs out of the store. “don’t say anything mean though. i only accept compliments.”

“wooyoung,” seonghwa smiles tightly. “please leave.”

wooyoung holds the door open for san and yeosang as he gives seonghwa a thumbs up. san waves goodbye sweetly and yeosang gives you a knowing smile before the door closes behind them.

“well, i think that’s my cue to go,” hongjoong says, handing the keys to seonghwa. “don’t make a mess. if i get fired, i’m selling all the stuff i stole from you when you were sneaking around with y/n and not telling us about it.”

“i’ll keep him under control,” you assure hongjoong, who nods as heads to the door. you don’t see him leave because seonghwa has stepped in front of you, and he places his hands on your waist to pull you closer.

“so,” he begins.

“so.”

“what do you want to listen to while we eat?” he asks, pulling you by the waist over to a row of records. you stand there quietly, looking over the albums hongjoong pulled to the front for you, and you just can’t believe how much work went into this date. you can’t believe how sweet it is that each of your friends helped, and you put your hand on seonghwa’s and give it a squeeze.

“hwa,” you whisper. he hums in response, but you place your hand on his cheek and guide his gaze to yours.

“thank you,” you tell him. “thank you for this.”

he smiles at you with a look in his eyes that can’t be anything else but love, and you smile back with that much love, if not more, in your own face. you use the hand on seonghwa’s chin to guide his lips to yours, and you lose yourself in the kiss, in seonghwa, for who knows how long.

“mm, y/n,” he mumbles against your lips before detaching. “the food will get cold.”

“you’re right,” you sigh. “but we didn’t pick any music.”

“how about this?” he asks, pulling an album out from the top shelf. you smile at the cover, knowing exactly what song seonghwa wants you to hear. 

“perfect,” you agree. “i’ll put it on while you get the food?”

and that’s how you end up eating the perfect meal, on your perfect date, with all of your favorite things around you, sitting right next to your perfect boy.

[klaus-is-the-real-number-1]

Tongue Tied (Number 5 x reader)

Ask: ahh I love the way you write for 5!!! I'm binge reading all ur fics rn but I thought of this while at work- what abt 5 x Griddys donuts waitress! reader?

A/N: Hope this is decent! The reader and five are both 16/17 so take it as you will. Im still getting back into writing so hope this is what you wanted! this is like griddys waitress! reader and five + a first date... i could do a pt 2 maybe?? also five does have powers but hes tryna be normal ya get me so like a pt 2 could be y/n finding out and then Fives fam finding out abt him and y/n?

Words:1090

Joyful chatter echoed throughout Griddys as the lunchtime rush hour started, people from all over the city came for the fresh homemade donuts, most of them on their lunch breaks the others just passerbys. It was the peak of summer, due to the summer holidays you were able to pick up shifts nearly every day. The uniform wasn’t bad either, just a simple pink 50′s style dress and even though it was 2019 the aesthetic was well received by the city.

At exactly 1:31pm the bell chimes and in walks Five, dressed as he always was in his crisply pressed uniform even if it was the middle of summer, whenever you asked he always just dismissed the question, simply saying he went to a private school. Everyday, just like clockwork, he would walk in at the exact same time, sit at the counter and drink a coffee, black. 

Over the past 2 months of this routine he’d really warmed up to you, greeting you with a warm smile and asking about your day as you poured him his coffee, his eyes followed you as you spoke, listening to every word you said with a small smile on his face. He only ever stayed for 25 minutes, his eyes would lazily follow you round the diner and he’d take any opportunity to start up a conversation.

“Hey, y/n,” Five was getting ready to leave. “I’m going to be gone the next couple of days, you should text me.” He gently placed the napkin with his number scrawled messily on it, you pick it up from the counter and place it in your apron pocket, when you look back up he’s gone. You smile to yourself as you finish your shift, checking your apron pocket to make sure that napkin was still there. 

As soon as you got home you typed the number into your phone and just stared at it, you weren’t even sure what to put or how to phrase it. You opted for a simple ‘Hey, it’s y/n’ and within seconds you heard a ping from your phone, which started a stream of conversations, Five hardly waiting seconds before sending a response.

Even though you didn’t see Five for the next couple of days, you texted in every possible minute you could, he’d even randomly text you in the early hours of the morning, leaving messages for you to wake up to. He’d often complain about his family, but in a way which suggested that deep down he really cared for them.

‘Are you at work tomorrow?’ Five was always so formal with his texts, it made you smile but also made you fully aware of how bad your texting was. You sent a quick one back about how it’s your day off and seconds hardly passes before your phone vibrates and Fives name flashes on the screen as he rings you.

“We’re going out tomorrow, if you don’t already have plans that is.” Five spoke quickly.

“You know, I think something has just came up.” You say with a cheeky smile on your face, even though you knew Five couldn’t see. You heard him do a disappointed sigh. “I’m joking, I have no plans so I’m yours for the day.”

Five continued to talk about your day tomorrow and all sorts of other things,  about his week, wanting to hear about your week and just in general, you both went on for hours. Before you knew it, it was well past midnight and a yawn wracked through your body.

“I’m going to go to sleep but I’ll see you tomorrow Five.”

“Night y/n.”

Nervously, you waited where Five had asked you to meet, aimlessly fiddling with the strap of your bag that was loosely slung across your body. On queue, Five came around the corner, his face lighting up when he saw you. This was the first time you’d seen him without his uniform and slicked back hair, instead he left his hair ungelled and was wearing just a casual jeans and jumper. 

“Hi,” You smile at him as he approaches you. “It’s so strange not seeing you in that school uniform of yours.”

“I could say the same to you about your Griddy’s uniform.” You laughed at his words as you started walking, you weren’t really sure where you were both heading but you followed his lead, weaving between the busy pedestrians on the street.

Five had led you to the very edge of town, you had both been talking about anything that came to mind, familys, hobbies, interests and you even dared to ask about this private school Five goes too, but you didn’t really get too clear of an answer from him. You’d both been walking and talking for so long you hardly noticed where he was actually taking you until you’d reach the top of a hill and onto a clearing that looked over the whole city.

“I like to come here a lot, just to get away from everyone.” He sits down with his back against a rock and gently patted the spot next to him. You sit down next to him, taking in the view of the city as the sun sets behind it.

“It’s beautiful.” You say as you look out at the horizon.

“Yeah.” His eyes never left you as he answered.

As the sun set, you both sat in silence, admiring the peaceful atmosphere. A shiver shot through your body as the cold breeze of the night danced around your bare arms. Without hesitation Five had already peeled his jumper off himself and handed it to you. 

“You don’t have too!” You say quickly, a sense of guilt filling you.

“Don’t worry about it, I insist.” You hesitantly took it from his hands before putting it on, it ran big on you, falling past your hands and covering them. Taking your now covered hands, you wrap them around his arm, softly resting your head on his shoulder as the sun sunk into the unknown, disappearing into the night.

“I’ll walk you home.” Five pulled you up and interlocked his fingers with yours, making small talk as you both made your way down and back into the city, making your way back to your neighborhood. Finally reaching your front door.

“I’ve had such a good night y/n-” Before he could continue you pressed your lips against his while holding his face in your hands, you felt him wrap his hands around your waist as you pulled away.

“Thank you, Five.”

[quietmyfearswith]

where our demons hide {dark!sam wilson x fem!reader} part 2

where our demons hide {dark!sam wilson x fem!reader} part 2

status — ongoing series

warnings — non-con turns into dub-con, implied oral sex (giving), name-calling, swearing, porn with a bit of plot, dark!sam wilson, unprotected penetrative sex (pls dont do this, use protection!)

word count — 2,129

a/n — u can read this as a standalone but if you want, you can read the first part. my askbox is open if you guys wanna talk, rant, or if u have questions abt this fic or my other fics. feedback is very much appreciated! have a great day and stay safe guys :> 

masterlist

part one — tony stark

Tapping on the counter top, I was waiting for the coffee pot to warm up the caffeinated drink that would hopefully awaken my senses. Upon seeing the light switch from red to green, my hands grabbed my aluminum tumbler and poured out the liquid. As I was sealing the cover up, a knock on the door of the common kitchen for the researchers had me turning around and raising my brow, “Hey Kim, what’s up?”

Her tawny-colored skin was somewhat damp with sweat and her chest was panting slightly, “Mission debriefing is starting in a few minutes, some of the agents just landed.” This just made me even more confused as I placed the coffee pot back to its former position, before crossing my arms, “What’s it got to do with me? I’m not usually needed there, you know.”

As she was wiping her face, she explained to me, “I was shocked too when they told me they needed you. But I think it’s because they have gathered information that they might need verification and more investigation, so you’re needed there.”

I thanked her and told her that I would be there in a few, with the tumbler on my hand, I quickly made my way inside my office, left the coffee on my table and grabbed for my iPad and stylus pen. By the time I arrived at the conference room, it looks like the agents had just arrived. I smiled at them and looked for a seat.

“Sorry, I had to handover Redwing to the technology department. But we can begin now,” Sam Wilson declared as he walked in and motioned for one of the agents to start the debriefing. The Falcon chose to sit beside me and as I started to take notes of the meeting, I noticed how he scooted closer towards me. Seeing as we were both seated away from the projector, the other four people present in the room would not have a clear view of the two of us — especially of what was happening underneath.

While focusing my attention on the screen, I felt a warm, calloused hand on my thigh. For a brief second, it made me disconnect my vision on the screen and to the hand, I looked at Sam but before I could even question what he was doing he shushed me, “Pay attention to the briefing, baby.”

The pet name had me blushing and I complied with what he ordered me to do. As the agent was continuing on with what he was talking about, I felt the same hand on my thigh riding up my black skirt until the edge of it was sitting on the middle of my thighs. Small beads of sweat began dripping on my face — I was thankful that I had worn a sleeveless, lime green blouse for it would not show any sweat stains — as I was anticipating what his next move would be. At first he was simply drumming his fingers on my thigh and caressing it, but I later on felt his fingers glide from my thigh and to my knees.

I placed the iPad on the table and placed both my hands there, not only was I taking notes of what was being discussed in this meeting, but I was also hoping to shield whatever was happening underneath the table from the eyes of the other people who were present in the room. His cayenne-toned hand was inching his way towards the insides of my thigh. Enjoying the sensation of warmth that his fingers brought — as well as being completely engrossed on what was being discussed by the other agent who had taken the floor to speak about the earlier events of the mission — I absentmindedly widened my legs and welcomed his hand.

A low chuckle was let out by the Avenger and his amusement with the situation was also made clear through his fingers brushing my clit through my panties. I gripped on my stylus pen tighter when one of his fingers swiped my underwear to the side and he was gently poking my clit. Inhaling sharply, I looked from the iPad and onto the screen, relief washing over me once I realized that the debriefing had come to an end.

“I’m gonna stay here for a little while to copy the presentation and check over the reports you have,” I stated as I moved away from the table and stood up over to where the laptop attached to the projector was, the other four agents nodded and all made their way to door to leave the room. I saw that Sam also stood and headed for the door and just when I thought he would come along with them to leave he informed them, “I’m gonna stay just in case she has any questions about our mission. Great work earlier, by the way.”

As I continued on with sending the files to my email and as well to my other team members, I noticed how as Sam called them out goodbye, he shut and locked the door. I gulped as I saw him start to make his way towards where I was. Standing and towering over where I was seated, he placed both of his hands on my shoulders, his lips grazing my neck, “You did so good earlier, baby girl. Keeping quiet for me, letting me play with you.”

I didn’t know how to react and continued on looking for the files that they had found, this might have upset him because he bit down on the flesh of my neck and I whimpered, turning my head to face him. There was a sinister smile gracing his lips when I finally looked at him, “There’s my pretty girl,” he softly said as one of his hands grazed the side of my face, “why don’t you be a good girl and put that laptop down for now, hm?”

I nodded and placed the laptop down next to the projector and the iPad I used earlier, all without breaking eye contact with him — not that I could remove my eyes from his intense gaze. Upon seeing that I followed him, he once again told me to stand up and I did, he went behind me — his front pressing against mine. Feeling his breath tickle the back of my neck prompted the goosebumps on my skin to rise.

His hands gently grazed my forearms and they were slowly going lower into my waist then my hips. “I’ve been talking to Stark recently,” he began as his lips touched my ear, “And he told me how you’re one of the most hardworking employees we have.” My spine went frigid upon hearing this, memories of my previous encounter with the aforementioned hero resurfaced on my head and made me all tingly. “Is there any truth in that, baby girl?”

I gulped, “Yeah, he once caught me working late and being the only one left in the building,” I managed to breath out. A chuckle of approval vibrated through his chest and his hands slid down meeting the end of my black pencil skirt, hiking it up until the ends of it rested on my waist. As his hands began cupping and feeling up my backside, “I might have to see for myself how much of a hard worker you really are,” and just as he said that, he shoved me into the table until my chest was planted firmly against the cold, wooden table and he swiftly slapped both of my ass cheeks.

I let out a small whimper as I turned my head around and watched him as he pulled my panties down, leaving it to pool at my feet. A small amount of drool left my mouth upon seeing how he was unfastening his pants and pulling it down it, along with his underwear — finally revealing his erected cock. “Let’s see how much of a good girl you are, baby.”

Despite my internal debate — on whether we would be caught, what if someone decided to walk in, should I really let this go any further — I found myself moaning in pleasure when Sam slid in with one move. “Fuck, baby girl, you feel so tight,” he groaned and did not wait for anything and suddenly pulled his hips back and slammed it back.

He was taking his time with his thrusts, but that did not mean he was being gentle. Long, slow, and powerful thrusts were being given to me. I wailed loudly as he entangled one of his hands in my hair and pulled on it, lifting my chest slightly above the desk, arching my back and I could feel his chest pressed against mine. His lips were placing wet kisses on my neck, “You like that, baby? You like having a thick cock inside of you?”

His other hand which was not entangled on my hair was rubbing my nipples through my blouse. Feeling that I had no bra, and just had nipple tape covering it had him laughing, “What a slut you are huh, baby? Coming to work with no bra, it’s just like you’re begging to get fucked!” My whimpers and dragged out moans were not enough to fuel him to keep him going, for he let go of my hair and spanked my ass, “Answer me! You like being used like a little whore?”

I nodded my head, “Yes, fuck! I like it when you use me, makes me feel full,” I was going to say more but he raised one of my legs and placed it on the table, stretching me out for him, allowing him to reach deeper within me. He also began to move one of his hands inside my blouse and remove the nipple tapes, flicking, pulling and twisting my nipples. To add even more pleasure, he was also slapping my ass and rubbing them after his hand met by backside flesh.

“Moan my name, baby, let me know how much you love this,” he managed to say within deep breaths and my fists curled near my head as the stimulation became too intense. He was displeased with my lack of response, which prompted him to push inside me and not pull out. With one hand still enveloped around my boob, his other hand was rubbing my swollen clit. Feeling deprived of pleasure and wanting to already cum, I was grinding my ass to his cock, hoping to match the pleasure he’d given me earlier. “You know what I wanna hear, baby. Say it and I’ll make you cum hard,” he retorted me at what I was doing.

“Please, Sam, please make me cum,” I began and he smirked and resumed thrusting in me, “You feel so good inside me. You got me so wet and I love having you in me,” I mewled out, hoping that my moans would get him going, and apparently it did the trick. He was now going fast and hard, not giving me any time to breathe, just using my body however he pleases — and I loved every single second of it.

With his two fingers rubbing my clit furiously, the other hand clawing and pinching at my breasts, as long as his thick cock hit my insides in a hard and furious pace, I came with a scream. This however did not stop Sam from going, he continued on with his pace even though I was overly sensitive. He withdrew both his hands from my boob and clit, placing them in my hips — moving my body in time with his thrusts — so every time he thrusted forward, my hips and ass would be pulled closer to him. “Fuck baby, I’m so close,” he groaned and I turned my head to see him biting his lips with his eyes staring directly into mine.

Unconsciously, I found myself clenching hard due to his intense gaze, it seemed to do the trick for shortly after he stopped thrusting and pushed all the way inside me. Hands loosening their grip on my hips, he groaned out loud as I felt his warm release spill inside me. I found myself panting following his release — thinking that this was over and that I would be able to get back to work. However, it seems like that was not what the Avenger had in his mind.

Sam pulled out of me and sat on one of the conference chairs, he was watching my move to wear my discarded panties when he interrupted me from doing so, “Don’t think I’m done with you, baby girl. Come over here and show me what that beautiful mouth can do.”

[pomegranate-belle]

Fic or Treat: how about smth based on your post the other day where Foggy doesn't realize he's in love with Matt 'objectively 11/10, anything less is heresy' Murdock? 😂 (it's been DAYS & i'm still thinking abt it so here we are LOL)

So this is somehow simultaneously set before Defenders and after DDS3 idk man, whatever.

Props to @kat8porgs and @thosemintcookies and @letsgetthisblog for helping me come up with some Dudes Hotter Than Matt Murdock, lol

—

Matt Murdock is pretty much the hottest guy on the planet. It’s an objective fact. There’s a lot of times Foggy despairs of this, but he’s never once questioned it; his best friend is a solid 10/10. Probably 11/10 when he does that one really sappy smile that only makes an appearance when he’s completely at ease or super drunk.

Misty Knight does not seem to agree, based on the unimpressed look on her face.

And look, there’s no accounting for taste, but Matt’s on another level. His appeal is undeniably universal. Like, as much as people have teased Foggy about fawning over Matt, it’s not gay or anything. Really. He’s just secure enough in his masculinity to be able to recognize how unfairly smokin’ hot his bff is. It’s a purely platonic observation, and the proof is that everyone else thinks Matt’s hot too.

“He’s not hot,” Misty says flatly, pushing Foggy’s phone back to the center of the cafe table.

It’s got one of Foggy’s best pictures of Matt on it — sitting at his desk in their office, hands scanning over some document or other and a look of intense concentration on his face. The lighting’s just right to show the red in his glasses and highlight his jaw.

“Are you high?” Foggy demands, jabbing a finger at the screen. “Just look at him! He’s beautiful!”

Misty snorts, then puts up her hands when Foggy glares at her.

“Look,” she begins, very obviously and condescendingly humoring him, “I’m not saying he’s ugly or anything, but when you say ‘ungodly man-beauty’ I expect to see some, y’know, ungodly man beauty. This? This is a generic-looking white boy.”

She’s lost it. That’s the only explanation. There’s nothing generic about Matt. Foggy tells her so, and her eyes sharpen a little with interest, though her mouth stays firmly in that ‘oh you poor fool’ smirk. In truth, maybe challenging a headstrong detective isn’t the smartest move; Misty is very perceptive. Not that Foggy has anything to hide. Because he doesn’t. And even if he did, he’s not necessarily known for making smart, rational decisions. Case in point: knocking out mobsters with a baseball bat, associating with someone reckless enough to earn the moniker Daredevil, and dating Marci Stahl not just once but twice.

Misty spins the phone back around and takes a second look, but there’s no dawning realization in her eyes. She shakes her head.

“And you couldn’t have gotten a picture sometime after he remembered how to use a razor?” she asks.

Foggy, of course, is offended on behalf of Matt’s pleasantly stubbly jaw. Matt looks good all the time, but he looks a lot less baby-faced with a little bit of facial hair — Foggy’s not sure whether a full-on beard would work well for Matt, but the stubble looks just right.

“The scruffiness is part of his charm!” he insists.

“He looks like a sad hobo in a business suit,” comes Misty’s totally ruthless reply.

Foggy has to gather his phone to his chest to protect Matt’s picture from such hurtful words.

“Sad hobo? We’re not talking about Rand again, are we? Because I got an earful from Hogarth the last time I suggested someone that rich should get better-fitted suits,” a familiar voice cuts in.

“Marci!” Foggy perks up — at last, a voice of cold, neutral sanity! “You’re finally here!”

Marci rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling with one eyebrow quirked and her arms subtly open — her usual ‘give me a hug’ posture.

“You didn’t think I’d miss a girls’ day out, did you?”

There’s a sudden, unexpected rush of relief and joy through Foggy’s veins as he thinks about their rekindled friendship. No matter how rough their first breakup was or how awkward their second, he’d missed her a lot in the years they weren’t speaking. He slips his phone into his pocket, then folds Marci into a hug.

“It’s good to see you too, Foggy Bear. I hear it’s been a busy month for you. Getting into heated disagreements with law enforcement again?”

As if he does it all the time! Really, it’s just bickering with Brett. And the people on the vigilante task forces. And those guys who’d been hassling Luke. And... Ok, maybe she has a point. Foggy clears his throat.

“Listen, that’s not important. I need you to tell Misty that she’s crazy. She says Matt’s not objectively attractive. But you saw, he had tons of dates in college, obviously all the girls thought he was hot.”

Marci gives Foggy a pitying smile that begins to erode his confidence with stomach-twisting effectiveness.

“Sweetie, the reason Murdock got so many dates was because he was confident but not a sexist jackhole.” She smirks. “Well. And because he was a big slut and everybody knew it. It’s not like there weren’t hotter guys on campus.”

“Name one,” Foggy orders, putting his hands on his hips like his Ma used to whenever he and Theo broke a window with their baseball.

Marci is a known bitch so she begins listing people off on her fingers.

“That guy Wyatt that Jen Walters started dating after you two broke up. The exchange student from Wakanda that quit second year. Eddie Brock on a good day. Sam Wilson every day. Cranston that one time in 2L when he was definitely trying to score with you. Shall I go on?”

“Tried to—” Foggy’s head is spinning, and he loses whatever argument he’d been cooking up about Matt’s hotness relative to these other guys. “Larry Cranston was a straight up dick, he never tried to score with me!”

“He definitely tried to score with you,” insists Marci. “At that post-midterm party first semester. But he’d already insulted Murdock by that point so you’d erased him from your dating pool and didn’t notice.”

“Well— then good riddance,” Foggy decides.

He continues to argue with Marci and Misty both until Karen arrives. Her face tells Foggy she’s somewhere between concerned and amused, but not enough to stop over before she’s got her drink in hand.

“The last time I saw you this fired up you were taking DA Tower to task,” she greets him. “What’s going on?”

“These two—” Foggy gestures at Marci and Misty— “have clearly lost it.”

“You’re the odd one out here,” says Misty.

But if he can get Karen to join his side, he won’t be — it’ll be fifty-fifty again.

“Look, unlike everyone else in this room she actually dated Matt, she’s got to agree with me. He’s objectively super hot, right, Karen?”

Karen blinks. Then she glances out the window and takes a long, awkward slurp of her coffee. Foggy throws his hands in the air. His perception of the world is literally crumbling around him. Or else everyone else has gone nuts.

“Karen, come on!” Foggy all but pleads. “You dated him!”

“Because he was really sweet to me! It’s not like someone has to be Adonis for me to date them, Foggy, I’m not that shallow! I mean, I like how he looks well enough, but he’s not as hot as, I don’t know, Idris Elba or Jason Momoa or somebody.”

She seems unbothered by the assertion. But, the thing is... Well, movie stars are all well and good, Foggy supposes, but they don’t have Matt’s... Matt-ness. That perfect, undefinable, essence-of-Matt thing that accentuates his natural beauty. Foggy doesn’t know how even Karen could have missed it, but Foggy’s got evidence on his side. He thumbs through the photos on his phone again, stopping on one from a couple months ago.

It’s of Matt, obviously. A closer shot, facing him head on. His hair is ruffled, his glasses are off, and there are small, happy little crinkles at the corner of his eyes. His smile is earnest and stunning. There’s a single fading bruise on his jaw. It’s Foggy’s absolute favorite picture of Matt, incontrovertible proof that Matt’s happiness isn’t trapped in rosy memories of the past. Proof that Daredevil is still Matt, still Foggy’s Matt, that the solid core of their friendship was never a lie.

Foggy wasn’t gonna use this — his final resort — because it’s... It’s private, and close to his heart. Matt keeps these smiles hidden, doesn’t show them to just anybody or for just any reason. It makes Foggy feel like he should guard them too. But the others just don’t get it, and Foggy’s determined to make them understand. Squaring his shoulders, he shoves his phone at Misty.

“There!” he snaps. “Ok? Just— just look at that smile and tell me he’s only average!”

Misty accepts the phone and studies the picture on it for a long, long time.

“I’ll give you the smile,” she admits at last, handing it back. “It is a nice one. But it still only bumps him up to 7/10.”

Foggy’s jaw drops.

“That’s ridiculous!”

“It isn’t though, Foggy Bear,” sighs Marci, raking her manicured nails through her hair. “It’s totally reasonable, you just can’t make an objective judgment because you’re literally in love with him.”

Foggy laughs, but it sounds strained and hysterical even to his own ears.

“Of course I’m not in love with him.”

Karen reaches out and squeezes his shoulder with a look on her face that makes Foggy want to scream.

“Foggy...”

“I’m not!”

Because he’s not. He isn’t, he can’t be. He can’t be in love with Matt, because that would suck. Not loving Matt, any idiot would be lucky to do that, but... Matt has a Type. And regardless of what Marci and Misty and Karen say about Matt’s own attractiveness, it’s at least true that the people Matt goes for are always super beautiful women. That being the criteria, Foggy’s a perfect zero out of a hundred. Being in love with Matt would be an exercise in futility, and more than a little pathetic.

“I’m not, I...” Foggy tries again, staring down at the picture of Matt smiling. “I...” His heart squeezes in his chest. “Oh, god, I’m in love with him.”

When Foggy manages to look up, the others are watching him with concern. That seems appropriate, because he himself is also very concerned, beneath the numbness of his shock.

“Oh, Foggy Bear...” Marci sighs. “I’m sorry. I thought you just didn’t want to admit it out loud. I never realized you didn’t actually know.”

Foggy takes a shaky breath, squeezes his eyes shut until he’s sure he’s not gonna start crying.

“This sucks,” he says, trying to make light of it and failing epically when his voice breaks.

Even though she looks the most uncomfortable, Misty is the first to speak.

“Isn’t it better to know?”

“Not even a little,” Foggy says miserably. “Because he won’t— he wouldn’t want...”

“You don’t know that, Foggy,” Karen tells him.

But he does know that. Matt has a Type, and Foggy isn’t it. He shakes his head.

“What... What am I supposed to do now...?”

“Now,” Karen says firmly, grabbing one of his hands and lacing their fingers together, “we go have our girls’ day out.”

It’s Marci’s turn to choose, so Foggy expects to spend the afternoon day-drinking away his feelings. Instead, he ends up at an animal shelter.

Marci does not like dogs, but she’s very partial to kittens, and doesn’t even seem to mind all the fur getting on her designer clothes. Meanwhile, Karen spends her time making goofy cooing noises to a particularly happy pit bull, and Misty plays fetch with an excitable golden retriever.

“It’s just like Danny,” she jokes, startling a laugh out of Foggy for the first time since his unfortunate realization.

For his own part, Foggy plays a little with as many of the animals as he can, but he’s especially fond of an orange tabby that likes to pounce off of high places. Because of course that’s the one that catches his eye, right? Foggy is, he’s beginning to realize, completely hopeless.

Truthfully, though, hanging out with Misty, Karen, Marci, and the animals does manage to do a good job of keeping his mind off the whole Matt Thing entirely — right up until they drop him off at his apartment. Afterwards, well, there’s nothing to distract him. Foggy spends the evening moping, and maybe eats too much ice cream before curling up under the covers and taking an early night.

—

He wakes at what the red numbers on his alarm clock assure him is 3:17am. There’s a rapid, ceaseless knocking on his window. Foggy takes a good five seconds to groan into his pillow and then forces himself to get up.

However, he’s barely climbed out of his bed before he’s tackled back into it. A very familiar idiot in a black mask is pinning him to the sheets, gloved hands on his shoulders, knees bracketing his hips.

“Foggy, Foggy—”

“Matt what the fuck?” Foggy wheezes, because— really, what the fuck?

Matt rips off his mask and throws it somewhere. He’s grinning like an idiot, and even in the low light Foggy can tell that the look in his eyes is tender but exhilarated.

“You’re in love with me?” Matt asks, breathless and giddy.

The combination of those words with that unexpected tone means Foggy has to give his brain a few seconds to reboot before he can reply.

“I. I’m. Yes?”

Matt’s smile becomes somehow more dazzling.

“Good,” he says, like a big dork, and tugs Foggy up into a kiss.

It’s a good kiss. Like, a really good kiss. So good that maybe it takes Foggy a few minutes of really good kissing and one pinch to his own arm to be sure it’s not a dream.

Eventually, probably because it’s literally 3:30 in the freaking morning, Matt flops himself down on Foggy’s chest and his ardor cools into sleepy, catlike nuzzling.

“I love you too,” he offers at last, about fifteen minutes after he really ought to have, still pressing tiny kisses to Foggy’s throat.

Foggy can only laugh and gather him closer, disbelief and joy fizzing in his chest like soda.

“Yeah. I kind of figured.”

—

It’s 8:42 the next morning when Foggy thinks to ask what exactly tipped Matt off about his feelings. Matt’s posture gets cagey and sheepish.

“What?” Foggy asks. “Is it really that bad?”

“Well...”

Matt pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and holds it out for Foggy to take. After some silent prompting, Foggy accepts it and navigates to voicemail amidst the narration of the phone’s screen reader. There’s one message. Cautiously, Foggy clicks play.

“Hey!” Marci’s voice says loudly. “Hey! Answer your phone Murdock, I know you don’t sleep! Fucker.”

She’s pretty clearly drunk. The voicemail only gets more angry and incoherent from there; Foggy’s pretty sure she calls Matt ‘Wal-Mart brand white bread’ at one point, which... Ouch. But she also says a lot of sappy stuff about Foggy deserving the world. And then it returns to the insults when she says that if Matt wasn’t ‘too busy cultivating a greasy Castaway beard’ he would have admitted his ‘stupid, stu— smoof— smooch— schmoopy, that’s the one, schmoopy’ feelings by now because Foggy loves him too and they’re both big idiots making themselves sad for no reason.

“Ah,” Foggy murmurs when the message finally, finally ends. “Well. That’s... Something.”

Matt nods, chokes out a laugh.

“Pretty much,” he agrees.

“Um. I... I’m really sorry about her.”

“No. I, um... I’m glad. You know. That she called,” Matt tells him, and wow that earnest face is too intense for Foggy’s poor weak heart. “I.” Matt straightens his shoulders, takes a deep breath. “I love you.”

“Yeah,” Foggy says wonderingly. “You do, don’t you?”

He can see it now, on Matt’s face — and he suddenly realizes it’s been there a long time, that part of Matt’s indescribable beauty, his Matt-ness, is... Being-in-love-with-Foggy-ness. That Foggy makes Matt as happy as Matt makes him.

“Foggy,” Matt whines, mouth curling down into a slight pout.

“What?” And then it hits him. “Oh! Right. Yeah. I love you too, Matty.”

And like magic, like the flash of sunlight reflecting off glass, it’s back again — Matt’s perfect smile.

[lenalvthor]

hsau soccer team head canons?

FIRSTLY HOLY SHIT THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK I’M SO SORRY WE NEVER ANSWERED IT WHEN YOU SENT IT, WE SAVED IT TO DRAFTS AND I NEVER CHECK MY DRAFTS LMAO

secondly so we went to talk about this and our headcanons went in a very different direction 




that direction being sara making out/hooking up with alex danvers in the national city high school locker room after a soccer tournament 

BUT WE’LL COME BACK TO THAT

like, every hot woman ever from legends is in the schs soccer team

sara is the best captain they’ve ever had

they’ve never made it to state champs thus far in the time sara’s been at schs - freshman year they lost a qualifying match, sophomore year they won regionals but didn’t make it past the playoffs, junior year they lost at regionals. but state champs is sara’s dream for what she wants to achieve with high school soccer before going to brown (will they make it? tune into the rest of the fic to find out 😉)

zari joined the team when she moved to star city and she and sara immediately clicked and got super close through soccer, because they were kind of equally stubborn personalities when they hung out at lunch and stuff and soccer was the one place where they kind of worked just seamlessly and realised that they could get on really well 

rip lowkey saved a spot on the team for sara from the minute he saw her play when she was in 8th grade 

right okay so this tournament in national city 

it’s an away game, and the schs team get there early enough that when they amble onto the pitch no one (read:alex) expects them yet

so when they meet the other team alex is standing there with her back to them leading her team through a warm up with her very gay haircut, and she doesn’t see them coming at first so it’s not until Sara taps her on the shoulder and cockily says “getting ready to get beaten danvers?” that she spins around to face them

and sara has all sorts of comebacks on the tip of her tongue for whatever alex has to say, but the moment she turns around and raises an unimpressed eyebrow sara completely loses her train of thought because the last time she saw alex, they were still in middle school for a soccer camp that summer (and sara was with nyssa then and alex thought she was straight) and holy fuck alex is hotter than she remembered and sara wasn’t prepared for it

and alex responds with a sarcastic quip that’s so much better than her line, and she usually has the perfect response but she doesn’t anymore because alex has managed to catch her completely off guard

and it gets under her skin

and the whole game, every time sara does anything, every move she makes, every time she gets the ball, she turns and alex is there waiting to attack 

and sara doesn’t know if she’s impressed or furious or frustrated or turned on and it’s probably a mixture of both and alex just keeps smirking as though she knows exactly what she’s fucking doing 

so sara just smirks and returns her taunts and plays twice as hard and doesn’t realise she’s doing exactly the same thing to alex that alex is doing to her

schs win on a penalty and honestly it’s all a bit of a blur, because one moment sara is celebrating with her team and shaking hands and letting rip congratulate her and the next alex is dragging her into the locker room by her shirt whilst everyone is distracted and she’s pushing her up against the wall

zari walks in at some point and immediately throws something at them and yells at sara to lock the door next time but tbh both alex and sara just laugh and get back to it

and after, as alex tugs her soccer jersey back on, her phone buzzes from her gear bag and she asks if sara can check who it is and sara picks up the phone and whistles when she sees kara’s contact photo and goes “uh, who the hell is this?” and alex makes a tsch sound and goes “hands off, that’s my sister kara” and sara scoffs and goes “no it’s not. i remember kara, she doesn’t look like that !” and alex rolls her eyes and goes “she does now. and wipe that look off your face lance, kara doesn’t even realise she’s bi yet.”

and sara sighs overexaggeratedly but alex can see she’s kidding as she answers kara’s call and lies saying she was helping someone from the schs team find their way around and sara waggles her eyebrows as she says it, sneaking into alex’s space even as alex swats her away and sealing her lips to alex’s neck distractingly

and eventually alex hangs up on kara and pokes sara in the stomach, voice a little breathier than before and she goes “you play dirty lance” and sara hums against alex’s collarbone, murmuring “i mean, can you blame me, look at yourself”

but she feels alex’s skin flush’s nd hears the disbelieving noise slip from her mouth and she pulls away, her hands dropping from alex’s ribs to her hips and she says a little more genuinely, “you’re stunning alex, you know that right?”

and the look on alex’s face makes it very clear she doesn’t and sara raises an eyebrow and goes “how is someone not losing their mind over you and telling you every single day?”

and alex shrugs, pushes her hair away from her face and leans back against the wall as she quietly goes “i dunno. i haven’t dated really. not really the kind of person to sleep around.” and sara raises an unsure eyebrow and gestures between them and alex goes “yeah but this is different. we’ve been playing tournaments against each other for years - i think i even remember playing against you at a soccer camp in middle school. i know you, i - i trust you. plus, there’s none of the weirdness of seeing you at school every day and knowing what you look like naked.” and sara laughs and kisses alex’s jawline again before pulling back, moving to finish packing up her stuff

while they’re packing up, sara pauses and asks “you really haven’t dated?” and alex can hear the edge to her voice, and she sighs and goes “you know that i have once.”

sara pauses zipping up her bag and turning, her face apologetic as she says “we don’t have to talk about it. i just - i remember seeing pictures of you guys on instagram.”

and there’s a moment of quiet before alex goes “yeah. maggie. she moved across the country. got an athletics scholarship to this elite sports school. she’s actually pretty near you now, i think.” and alex shrugs and adds, sadly, “she didn’t wanna make me wait and she said i deserved better than long distance. deserved someone who could love me every day rather than over tired skype calls and texting abt menial things just to feel connected. she promised that if it was meant to be, maybe we’d cross paths again so i guess part of me is scared to move on a lose that chance.”

and sara crosses her arms across her chest and softly says “there’s no expectation for you to move on, but she’s right alex. you’re smart and talented and really fucking hot and i’m certain that if you opened yourself up to it, someone would be there waiting. i know what it feels like to lose someone to distance, and how much you wanna hold on to the idea that maybe they’ll come back or you’ll go there and be ok again, but i promise it’s not worth wasting all the other things happening every day just bc you’re waiting for the time when you’ll be with them again.”

and alex can tell by the heaviness in her voice that she does know, but she doesn’t have the energy to talk more abt maggie right now

eventually they both head out of the locker room and the schs soccer team are staying at a motel so alex drives sara back on her way home and before getting out of the car, sara leans over the gear shift and pulls alex into the slowest, softest kiss that she feels alex melt into, feels alex’s fingers slide into her hair and her breath hitch and her other hand reach out for sara’s shirt, and when sara breaks away, she gives alex a genuine smile before kissing the side of her mouth and saying “call me if you’re near star city okay? even if it’s not for this - we can get coffee and talk about the beautiful girlfriends who abandoned us.” and alex snorts with laughter, something easing in her chest and she tugs sara forward to kiss her again for a second before murmuring “thanks for tonight. and i promise we’re gonna kick your ass next time we play.” and sara’s eyes sparkle with mirth as she goes “we’ll see” and gets out of the car to head towards her and zari’s room where she’s 100% prepared to be completely interrogated

well it turns out we have a lot more feelings abt that than anticipated

anyway the only other headcanon we really have about the soccer team is that sara hooks up with a few of the girls on it (lindsey, gwen etc) when they’re having a ‘questioning their sexualities’ crisis bc saras their friend and saras calm and reassuring and is always supportive and sweet and when each of them tentatively talk to her about it, she jokingly says she’s always here if they wanna test something out

zari always jokes abt how sara sleeping her way through the team is “strengthening their team bonds”

and sara rolls her eyes and snarks “is that a request Z? you feeling left out?” and zari gags and goes “absolutely not”

i apologise for the tangent this ended up being i hope u enjoyed all the sara/alex feels you absolutely did not ask for anyway thanks for the ask we love u