#I have a joke to make .but I’m saving it for another post

[mylovesstuffs]

OT13 reaction to the idea of a threesome with another member

Request: hey!! can you possibly do !husband!svt reacting to having a threesome with another member?? kinda like if they even would consider it, or who they would choose out of all the others. thank you so much already!! + yes hubby!svt x wifey!reader x another member is what i meant!! sorry for being unclear about that!!🤍

A/N: Some of these choices might make it seem like I’m shipping, lol, but anyway—I hope this is what you wanted! I scheduled this without saving it to my drafts for a recheck, so don’t mind any mistakes I might’ve made. Tumblr doesn’t save changes, but I have way too many pending requests, and it’s getting overwhelming. I couldn’t complete the other requests because of this Tumblr issue, but today, I had an epiphany: I can just post directly instead—at least until Tumblr gets back to me. So please ignore any typos, formatting errors, etc., etc.

This is my personal opinion and perspective. It may not accurately reflect their real-life personalities or behaviors.

Would Definitely Consider It (Under the Right Circumstances):

Jun – He’s the wildcard. He has a flirtatious and experimental streak, so he wouldn’t mind trying it if you initiated the idea. Minghao will be his choice (bahahah).

Hoshi – He’s adventurous, playful and very open-minded. He’d probably be the one to bring it up first just to see your reaction. He loves excitement and if it’s something you’re curious about, he’d be down. Woozi would be his first choice. He’d love to see his usually composed bestie in a wilder setting lol.

Mingyu – He’s open-minded and likes pushing boundaries in relationships. He’d probably joke about it first but if you were genuinely interested, he’d consider it. I think his choice would be Wonwoo or Jeonghan. They already have that chem, and they are someone Mingyu trusts completely.

Minghao – He’s open to new experiences but only if it’s something you really wanted. He’s emotionally mature enough to separate pleasure from deeper love. Jun will definitely be his choice (yes they're each other's choice). They have a natural bond and he’d feel most comfortable with him in such an intimate situation.

Would Maybe Consider It (But It’s Complicated):

Dokyeom – He’d turn beet red at the suggestion but wouldn’t be completely opposed. But the real problem is he’d get too emotionally attached and overthink things. In my opinion, I think his choice would be Mingyu. It’d feel like a fun, spontaneous thingy with someone he already vibes with.

Vernon – He’d be very nonchalant about it and respond with, “I mean…if you want to.” But deep down, he might not actually care enough to make it happen. Dino would definitely be his choice for a threesome. He’d pick someone who’s also laid-back, so nothing feels awkward.

Dino – He’d need a lot of convincing. He might go for it if it was positioned as a ‘fun experiment,’ but afterward, he’d probably get shy or maybe overthink. His choice will probably be Hoshi. There’s already a strong bond, and it would feel more like a game than anything super serious.

Absolutely Not (Too Loyal, Too Possessive, or Just Not Into It):

Seungcheol – This man is territorial. You are his, end of discussion. Suggesting it might even make him a little jealous and possessive.

Jeonghan – He loves to tease about things like this but would never actually go through with it. Deep down, he’s high-key possessive and wouldn’t want to share you.

Joshua – He’s too traditional and reserved. He doesn’t want to take even a 0.001% risk of anything that could potentially affect the relationship.

Wonwoo – Not necessarily out of jealousy, but he sees sex as something really personal and wouldn’t want you or him to share that level of intimacy with anyone other than each other.

Woozi – He’d be so so uncomfortable with the idea. He’s private and values intimacy in a one-on-one setting.

Seungkwan – Absolutely not. He would take the idea as a personal attack, wondering why he alone isn’t enough for you.

[sinhasfluffyheadfur]

have a fluffy lad

[honey-tongued-devil]

[Arcane preference]reacting to their s/o calling them husband/wife for the first time

I’ve finished the first chapter of the long fic about Universe 7 (Anytime it rains). As soon as my second beta reader gives me the okay, I’ll post it. While I wait, I’ve written the first headcanon (out of three I’m definitely planning to write and post in the next few days) and picked up the drawing of Steb I’d left unfinished. I’m slow, as usual, but English isn’t my first language, and I’m juggling a lot of things at once. Enjoy!

socials: | INPRNT | | Tip Jar | | X | | BlueSky | | Ao3 | poster: | Jayce poster | | Silco poster | |Silco +self insert poster 1| | Steb poster | if you want to read the fluff longfic with vander and his happy family + Silco x reader you can find it here! ↠ Masterlist

Jayce:

-This man is planning to put a ring on your finger as soon as possible, okay? -Between the academy, public appearances, and both theoretical and practical studies, there isn’t a single moment when he’s really in the right mindset to bring up the topic -The worst part is that, deep down, he’s terrified of putting pressure on you -That’s why, the first time he hears you refer to him as “my husband” during a gala with noble families, he almost chokes -He has to gather all his strength not to grab the interlocutor by the shoulders and ask if they also heard you say that word -He’ll try to keep his composure, maybe responding to your remark with, “Yes, exactly. Her husband really did say/do/design that.”

Viktor:

-It’s not a thought he’s ever really entertained; it never crossed his mind -Part of it is that science is his priority, and part of it is that marriage doesn’t seem like something meant for people like him, -The first time you call him “your husband”, that thought suddenly becomes real in his head, and he can’t help but lean against a wall and wait for the other person to leave -“So, I’m your husband now, huh? Mmm… I don’t mind, a bit pretentious, though…” he jokes, making you roll your eyes -Now, more than ever, he has no idea what to do. He’ll give you a bronze ring from a machine he’s building -“Until I can get one worthy of you.”

Ekko:

-Yes -That’s it -The end -Okay, seriously. The idea of being certain that something will last forever is probably his greatest wish -The first time you call him your husband, he doesn’t see it coming -“Wait, you’re married?” -“I was talking about you, Ekko.” -The moment you say it, he points to his chest, you see his lip tremble slightly, and his eyes grow shinier -He won’t stop talking about it for a week, and at least once a day, he’ll ask if you still want to marry him, if you’re sure, if you love him -No rings before S2; the promise is made by drawing something for each other on your masks and clothes -After S2, he still can’t afford a ring, but now that life is more stable, he can start thinking about a more traditional gift, like a piece of jewelry

Vander:

-This man is ravenous for any family role you might offer him—fiancé, father, husband. Anything goes -The first time you call him “husband”, he plays it cool but will seize the first opportunity to return the favor by telling a customer you’re married -As soon as he can, he’ll squeeze your hand, even under the counter -The idea of being married and having a complete family is everything he’s ever wanted -He won’t stop calling you “my beautiful wife/husband” from that moment on.

-You said it first; you can’t take it back. Now you have to get married

Silco (old man):

-This man’s only sin is loving too much, but I’ll save that reflection for another post -Having no ties other than his illegitimate daughter doesn’t make him someone who’s particularly keen on formalities -The first time you call him “your husband” is in front of Sevika, and he slowly turns to look at you, while she slowly turns to look at him -“Did I... miss something?” Sevika asks, but he doesn’t reply, still perplexed, before glancing at her and saying, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” -He’s relieved but doesn’t show it. He can’t afford to just yet -As soon as he confirms you were serious, your name will be flamboyantly forgotten—he’ll constantly refer to you as “my wife/husband”

Silco (young):

-The man who survives on love -The first time you call him your husband is in front of Vander, and while Vander bursts out laughing, Silco chokes on his drink -“Are you serious?” He’s so happy that his pale iris are completely swallowed by his dilated pupils -He grabs a pen and draws a ring around your finger -To his credit, he works in a mine, so it’s hard to do better than that, but it becomes the goal that keeps him going -Completely focused on family, the future, and anything that sees the two of you together and happy

Steb:

-The first time you call him your husband is at a dinner among enforcer families, and being mute doesn’t stop him from stealing the spotlight -He whips around, blinking slowly with only his third eyelid in a gesture of confusion -When he’s 100% sure he understood what you said, his eyes widen, the small membranes under his eyes flutter madly, and even the barely visible gills near his jaw gasp for a moment -Someone says, “I didn’t know you were married,” and he immediately nods enthusiastically, not giving you time to take it back -Within 48 hours, he’ll have the ring ready

Jinx:

-The first time you call her “your wife”, she freezes -“What did you just call me?” -She’s used to being a little sister, a big sister, a daughter—she’d never thought she could be a wife. Family ties aren’t chosen, but the idea that someone would want her in their life so much they’d marry her feels incredible -“You want to marry me? Really? Why?” -She bursts into tears, and it’ll take at least 24 hours of cuddling in bed to calm her down -After that, she’ll run to her father to announce that she’s now a married woman

Vi:

-She might not be Silco and/or Vander’s blood daughter, but she’s inherited their deep desire for family -From her family’s tragic fate to Vander’s, she’s always seen family as the ultimate aspiration -When you call her “your wife” for the first time, she doesn’t notice right away, but a full minute later, she whirls around to look at you, as if to ask for confirmation -“Say it again.” -“...You need to buy bread?” -“No, all of it.” -“My wife needs to go buy bread.” -“Again.”

-"My... wife?"

-"Again"

Caitlyn:

-Has she thought about it? Yes -Was she planning to act on it? Not exactly -Caitlyn struggles with emotions and feelings, which is why she hesitates and takes her time -But when you first call her “your wife”, her brain completely shuts off—she just stares at you, unable to hear a single word being said -If you or someone else asks her a question, she’ll snap out of it and respond, -“My wife/husband said everything.” Even if it makes no sense as an answer, making you laugh and leaving the other person baffled

Mel:

-Not a single flicker of surprise—the first time you call her “your wife”, she remains completely composed -“So, I’m your wife?” she asks as soon as you’re in private, approaching you like a feline. You can almost hear the purr in her voice -She’s amused but also intrigued by whatever game you’re playing -The idea of marriage is complicated for her—on one hand, it feels like it would limit her freedom to act, while on the other, unresolved family issues seem to devour her at the mere thought of starting a new cycle -She’ll tell you to go ahead, to get married, but she’ll also ask for time -In the meantime, though, she’ll start using the term “husband/wife” with you—she likes the way it rolls off her tongue

Sevika:

-Between the work she does, the environment she lives in, and all the interesting circumstances of her life, marriage has never been on her radar -Not to mention that in Zaun, it’s not exactly a common practice—people just move in together and build families when they can, without much fuss over formalities or bureaucracy -The first time it happens, she’s playing cards with the other goons, and you casually ask if “your wife is winning” -Her first reaction isn’t even hers—it’s the others’. Dustin, the blond goon with the lazy eye, almost starts crying, embarrassing her -Don’t worry, she’ll make you pay for it at home -She won’t ask to formalize anything, but in true Zaunite fashion, she’ll consider you married, plain and simple

[kitty-pelosi]

it is cute to watch USAmericans celebrate Brian Thompson’s assassination (CEO of United Healthcare) but I think it also highlights a certain ignorance and false class consciousness among the country. I’m specifically referencing this smug fixation on the fact that the investors had their meeting without him anyway and that they posted his job online already, and how there is this sort of smug “hahaha they don’t care about you either!” ouroboros-esque consumed-by-your-own-labyrinth attitude of righteous self-satisfaction and I feel like the point is going over people’s head.

No CEO of a publicly traded company really thinks they are that important, and it is extremely obvious to them how replaceable and at the mercy of the shareholders and board of directors they are. actually, it is this structure and system that guarantees the most ruthless profiteers to become CEOs, because the owner class of the company has made being a ruthless profiteer part of the job description because CEOs have a fiduciary obligation to the owners to solely prioritize profit. it’s literally the law that the only thing they are to do is create profit for shareholders.

The CEO is a tool which the owner class uses to facilitate company operations, no more. Literally they are a mask to hold up in front of themselves. A prop.

Understand that the CEO dying is the point. He took the bullet, the blame, the conflagration. His purpose is fulfilled in the eyes of the faceless diffusions of power within the company. Now, get another. And seemingly the actual controllers - the owners - remain anonymous and safe.

These people are not the ruling class - they are the lowest possible rung of it. They are the vanguard for the ruling class. These are celebrities, CEOs, the public faces of the ruling class which direct resentment toward themselves and save their bosses from the fire. They exist to absorb the impact. And this is how nothing changes, because as people joke about Brian Thompson online they participate within the very safety-valve that the owner class has put in place to preserve itself. Yet seemingly it feels radical and fun and transgressive to make fun of it. Another example of how co-opting dissent is one of the primary and greatest tools the ruling class has to maintain itself.

[wqnwoos]

⇢ pairing. chwe vernon x reader ⇢ summary. vernon loves music, and you love vernon. ⇢ genre. fluff, bffs2lovers, college!au ⇢ word count. approx. 2k ⇢ author’s note! happy (early) valentine’s day! i unfortunately wrote this last week which means it came so close to deletion at least 10 times, and so im posting it now to prevent that. thank you to alta @haologram for helping me brainstorm the playlist, i truly believe u are a gift to this world.

playlist. love language, kehlani / jasmine, dpr live / want u around, omar apollo & ruel / like i want you, giveon / thinkin bout you, frank ocean / best part, daniel caesar & h.e.r.

It’s closing in on two in the morning when you finally leave the library. Your phone’s been on do not disturb since you got there at seven, which feels like forever ago — as you exit, casting a sympathetic glance at the remaining two students still glued to their textbooks, you scroll quickly through your notifications. Two emails, a follow request, and a passive-aggressive threat from Duolingo.

You pull your coat tighter around you as you finally emerge through the last set of double doors — it’s freezing, and you’re just about to stow your hands deep into your pockets when your phone buzzes.

[2:03am] vernon 👽🖤 yo [2:03am] vernon 👽🖤 ur prob asleep but i made u smth [2:04am] vernon 👽🖤 https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4grGIbqG5VSvNpDLuwdG7X

Instinctively, you smile. You and Vernon have a bunch of playlists. A collaborative one, for when you’re together, driving or hanging out or whatever. Then he has one for you with all the songs he thinks you’ll like, and then you have one for him for the same reason. 

[2:05am] you another one?  [2:06am] vernon 👽🖤  yooo why are u still up dude [2:06am] you hypocrite 🫵 [2:06am] you but i’m walking home from the library rn

vernon 👽🖤  is calling . . .

“Dude,” he says, by way of greeting, and he doesn’t sound impressed.

“Dude,” you mimic exactly, biting back a smile at the sound of his voice.

“It’s two in the morning,” he sighs, and you can hear sheets rustling in the background. “Why are you walking home alone?”

“It’s not far, Vernon.” 

“It’s dark and it’s been snowing. You should have called me,” he reprimands without any heat. “I would’ve picked you up.”

“Well, it is two in the morning.” You cross the road, stepping over a patch of snow. “I assumed you’d be asleep, not curating another playlist.”

“Oh. Yeah, that — that was — have you opened it?” Vernon’s words trip over each other, and your lips turn up ever so slightly. God, he’s so sweet.

“What, are you nervous?” you tease, unable to resist. “I have, like, fifteen of your playlists saved already.”

“You haven’t opened it,” he infers, and exhales a little. “Okay, um, maybe you should… wait. Until the morning or something.”

“Yeah, right,” you snort. “I’m listening to it now! It’s going to keep me company on my way home. Talk to you later!”

And you hang up before he can protest, already scrolling to find the link he sent you.

The first thing you notice is the name — Love Language. Which makes your heart twist a little, until you realise it’s the name of the first song, and anyway, you and Vernon have made this joke a hundred times. His love language is making playlists, he does it for his friends all the time. You included — you especially. Like the time he’d eaten the last slice of a cake you’d bought, apparently because he thought it was free-for-all. You’d given him the silent treatment for a day and a half before he’d texted you a playlist link: 

I AM (IVE)

really (mimi bay)

Sorry (Justin Bieber)

About (SoKuen)

EATING (Sukihana)

The Cake (John Powell)

I Will (Remastered 2009) (The Beatles)

Buy (Cousines like Shit)

You (Basil Valdez)

MORE (j-hope)

Please Please Please (Sabrina Carpenter)

Forgive Me (Chloe x Halle)

It made you laugh, because Vernon always makes you laugh. A few months and a few playlists later, you were harbouring the biggest crush known to mankind.

That was three years ago. You and Vernon are seniors now, set to graduate next summer, and what was meant to be a harmless crush on a friend has turned into being completely, totally in love with your best friend. It wasn’t that serious until it suddenly was. It was butterflies in your stomach when you saw him, at first. Now it’s like a sigh of relief. It's more coming home. Which is a lot more dangerous, and a lot more painful.

You handle it, most days, but sometimes he’ll do something or say something that completely throws your perfectly regulated emotions into overdrive. He’ll laugh at a stupid joke you make, or he’ll grab your hand to make a point or he’ll tell you that you’re pretty, and your heart swells until it presses painfully against your ribs, hot and slippery and aching. Those days, you mostly go home just to lie on the floor, listen to the only playlist of yours that Vernon hasn’t seen.

The second thing you notice about the playlist Vernon made you is the cover. It’s you, you know it immediately, and you know exactly which day it was taken. You just didn’t know it was taken. But your best friend must’ve snapped a photo when you weren’t looking, because the cover is you, looking up at the cherry blossom tree that the two of you stumbled on during a late-night walk. It was maybe a little under a year ago, it was the night you realised you loved him, and it was the night you almost kissed.

You don’t know if he remembers it the same way you do. To you, that’s your biggest what if? moment. To him, it’s probably just another fun memory with his friend. His best friend, if you’re lucky.

It takes you a second, but you finally click play on the playlist — but the picture stares back at you, practically taunting you with the memory.

The two of you had been walking for twenty minutes, sharing airpods, until you’d seen the tree and gathered a pile of pink petals to dump over Vernon’s head; he’d realised what you were doing just a moment too late. Asshole, he’d said smilingly, brushing the petals off with two hands. Everything that happened next was cliché. He’d missed a spot, one pale petal still clinging to his hair; you reached your hand up to get it, and lingered a little too long, a little too close. You don’t think you’ve ever held eye contact for so long — it felt like forever and then some.

Until his eyes flicked downward. Only for a split second: if you’d blinked, you would’ve missed it, but you saw it, and it was enough to have you taking a step back. Not like this, you’d thought to yourself. You wouldn’t do anything like that. You wouldn’t throw years of friendship and an extended period of pining away so easily — you wouldn’t risk it over an impulse that Vernon was experiencing. If you couldn’t have all of him, you refused to even take one night. You’d rather not know than live with the memory.

You’re halfway through the second song when you finally snap out of the memory, and you can actually take a moment to glance at the rest of the playlist. To your surprise, it’s short — it’s only six songs — and more interestingly, you know all these songs. And Vernon knows you know them; some of them you recommended to him, some of them he’s sent to you already, and you’re still wondering what he’s thinking as the third song ends. 

Despite you claiming to be his best friend, you don’t always understand Vernon. Sometimes it’s little things, like how he fist bumps the cat on the street corner of his apartment. Sometimes it’s bigger, like the girl he dated last year. You didn’t understand that — or maybe you didn’t want to, because yes, you were well on your way to being in love with him, but he also didn’t tell you. You found out from Seungkwan (who was kind of triumphant about it, because he was always vying for the position of Vernon’s best friend, and he finally knew something you didn’t).

Mina was lovely. As if Vernon would date someone not lovely — he brought her to movie night after a month or so of them seeing each other, and she met your group of friends, and everyone loved her. Even you. And honestly, after excusing yourself to the bathroom to blink away your watery eyes, you convinced yourself that it was for the better: that this would be how you officially got over your best friend. So when Soonyoung asked you to go on a blind date with one of his friends the next week, you said yes. You and Wonwoo saw each other for about a month before you broke it off, and about a month after that, Vernon showed up at movie night without his girlfriend, and casually mentioned that they’d broken up.

Even the news of that didn’t do much to soothe you, because you’d quickly come to a conclusion while dating Wonwoo: that it would not be easy to get over your best friend. You knew you loved him now. You’d come to that realisation under the cherry blossom tree, a few months after both of your breakups, a year after you realised that you liked him like that in the first place. It’s been well over two years since you first fell for him, and you’ve been stuck there ever since — falling deeper and deeper because you refuse to pull yourself out.

Sometimes, on your most hopeful nights, you think that maybe Vernon could feel something too. Some nights he looks at you with a certain shine in his eyes, or when he hugs you he makes it last a little longer than usual. Some nights he opens his mouth to say something and the words get stuck in his throat, and he waves it off like nothing happened. Symptoms that are all too familiar.

Those nights are even worse, the ones where you go home and read too much into his every move, try in vain to stifle the hope that insists on clawing its way to your chest. Those nights are getting more and more frequent, and you don’t know how much longer you can handle it. Those nights, something in you is convinced he feels something, that maybe he could like you — on the very worst, you think he might even love you. But by the next morning, you’re dead certain that all you’ll ever be is a friend to him.

But now — today — you’re eight minutes away from home and nearly five songs in when it starts snowing, and at the same time, the cogs in your mind slowly start turning. You love these songs, Vernon knows you love these songs. You’re pretty sure they’re some of his favourites too; he’s always listening to them. And you’re so preoccupied with the realisation that’s sinking in, that same traitorous hope you’ve always shoved down stirring again in your chest, you barely even notice the snowflakes settling around you.

Because maybe you don’t always understand Vernon, but most of the time you do, even if it takes a little while — even if he has to spell things out for you, like his stupid cake playlist. Because that’s what he’s doing, you realise with a sudden jolt, looking at your favourite songs. Your favourite love songs. He’s spelling it out for you. That this is his love language; that he wants you; that he thinks about you; and as the last song finishes, just as you turn onto your street — if you love me, won’t you say something?

When you finally look up, you think you’re hallucinating. Because Vernon’s standing in front of your apartment building, holding an umbrella, and it startles you so much you actually stop in your tracks a few metres from him, blinking idiotically.

Vernon gives you a shy smile, charming and awkward. Your heart does the thing it always does when he looks at you like that; stutters, skips a beat, clenches tightly.

“You stopped replying to my texts,” he says, and the street’s empty enough that you can hear him, even from where you’re standing. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You don’t say anything because what can you even say? Where do you even start? You don’t have words — but you tap quickly at your phone with a sudden idea, and you hear the ping of Vernon’s phone from where you’re standing. You move closer anyway, smiling at the familiar furrow of his brow as he glances between you and the phone he digs out of his pocket. And you see the exact moment he registers what you’ve sent him, the smile that spreads across his face.

[2:39am] you https://open.spotify.com/track/5oO3drDxtziYU2H1X23ZIp [love on the brain - rihanna]

You and Vernon first met at a party. Seungkwan had promised both of you, separately, that it wasn’t a party, more of a small gathering between his friends, but of course, Seungkwan’s definition of small doesn’t match yours. And so you were kind of hiding in a corner, nodding your head and mouthing subconsciously to Rihanna’s Love on the Brain; you’d turned your head a few inches, and Chwe Vernon was standing a few metres away, doing the exact same thing. You guys had accidentally made eye contact and split into matching embarrassed smiles, until he’d sat next to you. He’d offered you possibly the most awkward fist bump ever, pairing it with an even more awkward, “So, uh, got love on the brain?” You’d laughed, and that was it — the beginning of you and Vernon.

Now, he pockets his phone again, but holds the umbrella out over both of your heads, which only makes you giggle. “You brought an umbrella?”

“It’s snowing,” he shrugs, but his smile is wide, “It’s just like… colder rain.” 

“Stupid.” What’s more stupid is the smile you can’t peel off your face. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Why didn’t you?” he counters, and you tilt your head with a sheepish smile. So many reasons, but one look at him and you forget them all.

“So,” he murmurs, slipping his free hand around your waist, “got love on the brain, hm?”

“Something like that,” you agree, and after three years of wanting and waiting, you finally kiss him.

a/n i linked the playlist vernon made at the top (yes i dug up one of my very old spotify accounts to do this). i have very mixed feelings about this one. it's kind of cheesy but so is most of my work, and anyway it's valentine's day!! so who cares!!! also once again this got a banner bc once again this picture inspired the whole thing. also wtf is up with tumblr ruining image quality!!!

perm taglist: @n4mj00nvq @eoieopda @som1ig @wondering-out-loud

@tokitosun @hannyoontify @sahazzy @dokyeomin

@icyminghao @smilehui @nicholasluvbot @lvlystars

@immabecreepin @hanniehaee @kokoiinuts @astrozuya

@yepimthatonequirkyteenager @qaramu @weird-bookworm @phenomenalgirl9

@lightnjng @strnsvt @onlyyjeonghan @athanasiasakura

@iamawkwardandshy @twilghtkoo @yuuyeonie @lllucere

@pearlesscentt

@sourkimchi @porridgesblog

[gffa]

I'm still trying to navigate my way through the absolute avalanche of Arcane fic, but I am here to scream at everyone about the fics I've loved so far and try to drag a few more of you down into this hellpit of feelings with me. It's nice down here, I promise! Totally normal and with soooo many hinges, nothing off a single hinge here!

JAYVIK RECS:

✦ To love is to risk the soul's quiet by Disguised_Bird, jayce/viktor, NSFW, 32.7k     When an anomaly suddenly transports an older, scarred version of Jayce into the Jayce of Viktor's timeline, the two must navigate the strange collision of past and future while grappling with feelings neither fully understands. As they work late into the night to find a way to send Jayce back, tension turns into intimacy, pushing Viktor to confront vulnerabilities he has spent a lifetime burying.

✦ Say My Name by Acryllic, jayce/viktor, NSFW, eventually post-canon, 77.2k wip     “Tell me now if you don’t want this.” He stroked Viktor’s bottom lip with his thumb, “Keep saying my name if you do.”

✦ This ain't goodbye no more, it just began by SirCumference, jayce/viktor, NSFW, 7.1k     After he and Viktor save the world, Jayce wakes up in his old bed on the day it all started. Things are different, this time.

✦ first times, second goodbyes by tragicperformer, jayce/viktor, NSFW, post-canon, 1.6k     “What do you mean pull out?” He teases, the corners of his lips quirking up into a stupid, dopey grin. “I have separation anxiety.” “Yes, I know,” Viktor intones. “We were just discussing this. It is why I’m currently visiting you, rather than focusing on my duties back in the commune.” “Yeah. And when I pull out, you’re going to leave again,” Jayce rationalizes. Not entirely incorrect. “Just a few minutes. Please, Vik? Let me pretend for a little longer.”

✦ The Threads of Our Mind by Darling_Pigeon, jayce/viktor, post-canon, 3k     Snapshot of Jayce and Viktor’s new life of exploration after the finale: Viktor helps Jayce adjust to his brace, but they discover they may be connected in another, strangely magical way.

✦ Time For Space by yurikazen, jayce/viktor, NSFW, post-canon, 6.6k     First, there’s a wave of blinding light, tearing through the cosmos like a free-falling comet. Then, Jayce opens his eyes to find a smooth, unfamiliar ceiling above his head. (Jayce dies, holding Viktor close to him, yet death is just another beginning.)

✦ two left feet by ChiliCheeseCornDog, jayce/viktor, 4k     Jayce rises from his seat, face set with a soft smile, and holds out his right hand with the palm facing up. “Let me teach you how.” The pause is long and unrelenting. “You are joking,” Viktor manages to say. or: Jayce teaches Viktor how to dance, Piltover-style.

✦ destabilise by antiparticular, jayce/viktor, 3.6k     Jayce was naked and in Viktor's bed. Don't get him wrong - Viktor had dreamed of this happening, both literally and on slow days in the lab when he was feeling particularly self-indulgent, but for it to manifest outside of his overactive imagination? He was half tempted to pinch himself to check he'd actually awoken. Why was Jayce Talis in Viktor's bed? And more pressingly, why did Viktor not remember?

✦ Run It Back Again by Withercrown, jayce/viktor & vander/silco & cast, 18.9k wip     Sometimes there's nothing you can do except scrap the whole experiment and start over. The worst possible outcome becomes an opportunity for a new beginning. Viktor and Jayce, estranged enemies in a brutal war, go back to the start - and then earlier than that. The key to their salvation ends up being an undercity brat named Silco. He's not quite the person they remember.

✦ Electric Desires by abisbookcase, jayce/viktor, NSFW, 1.2k     Viktor gets an important phone call in the middle of sex, and Jayce keeps fucking him roughly, trying to make him slip up while he talks.

✦ Between gears and parties by chaosheadspace, jayce/viktor, 3.6k     "Why do you think it is so hard for people like me to get a footing here?" Viktor asks. "Aside from the obvious classism, of course. I'll tell you. Bureaucracy. Do you know how difficult it is to even find a place to live without a last name up here?” Or: Jayce wants to save his partner some trouble and gets them married on paper.

ZAUNDADS RECS:

✦ Take Me Like You Mean It by Anonymous, vander/silco, NSFW, 2k     Young! Silco and Vander have sex in the alleyway behind the last drop after closing.

✦ Mr Eye of Zaun by limeta, vander/silco & jinx & vi & cast, 28.8k wip     Mylo and Claggor would say there’s nothing that scares Vi. She can dish out punches and evade danger better than anyone. She’s their fearless leader, always ready to take them on a job and back without losing anyone. It’s that level of assurance that they have in her, that confidence she exudes, that makes them trust and believe in her. But they’re wrong. Powder knows there’s something that scares Vi. And that’s because it scares Vander. Or: Silco reads the letter Vander left in the mines and sticks around as a boogeyman in the Last Drop.

✦ let fall the world by perfidiousalbion, vander/silco, nsfw, 4.2k     Or: before it all went wrong, Silco and Vander had something good.

✦ The Lives of Others by Lilbaebloo, vander/silco & ekko & benzo, NSFW, 5.1k     Ekko drops an emotional grenade on Silco and Vander when he brings up their fated night at the river thirteen years earlier. The plunge into the past reminds them both of how far they've come, together and apart, and what they have to keep living for.

✦ The Shore From Which I Fell by ClutchHedonist, vander/silco, NSFW, 1.2k     “I knew you still had it in you.” Silco’s mouth tastes of ash. His tongue, tacky and dry with the suffocating weight of it, threatens to stick to the roof of his mouth as his lips fall shut. He does his best to swallow past the whisper of bruising already blossoming in his throat where Vander’s broad hand has yet again left its mark.

✦ Night Business by spicedrobot, vander/silco, NSFW, rough sex, 2.6k     The rulers of Zaun play a game.

✦ While the world turns around by Blue_Daddys_Girl, vander/silco & jinx & benzo, 8.9k     In a chance meeting Vander sees Silco for the first time since the fateful day he's come to regret so deeply. Silco has changed—they both have. Vander can't stop thinking about him.

TIMEBOMB RECS:

✦ Little Crow by shroomyystar, ekko/jinx, 2.1k     There’s a monster under his bed.

✦ Let's Give It One Last Try by the_whole_shebang, ekko/jinx, post-canon, 12.3k     The war is finally over, and Ekko is finally home, but an old friend has one more favor to ask of him. Jinx found the strength to walk away, but something told her not to let go just yet. Maybe if Vi and Ekko hadn't given up on her yet, then she wouldn't either. Plus, thanks to Ekko, she was starting to think that the past wasn't as set in stone as she though it was.

✦ Let Me Try by Blue_Daddys_Girl, ekko/jinx, post-canon, 4.3k     Ekko walks away from the final battle in a daze after learning that Jinx is dead. Or: An alternate ending to the show, in which she isn't, no matter what Vi believes.

SOMETIMES THE SHIPS AREN'T THE POINT RECS:

✦ wait 'til your sister sees where you've been by QwahaXahn, vi & jinx & cast, post-canon, 12.9k     OR: Jinx falls. The bomb explodes. Everything goes white. ...And Vi wakes up in a different world.

✦ was it the worst you'd never know by Anonymous, jinx & silco, 2.2k     “Fix him,” she demands, voice barely decipherable through the breaking and raspiness from crying. Gentle, gentle, as gentle as Singed knows how to be, which is not very. Jinx will have no qualms killing him if he steps wrong. “He is… very far gone.” And indeed he is. His chest does not rise, and his eyes are vacant. He is gone. “FIX. HIM.” aka jinx refuses to let her father die and brings him to singed. it goes better than expected

✦ Six Weeks Since by argonautoida, jinx & viktor, 2.1k     Six weeks after Silco died, Jinx finally makes a friend.

[steveseddie]

i’ll save you a seat

steddie | rating: t | cw: none | wc: 3,5k | tags: eddie has a crush on steve, pining, eddie sits on steve’s lap as a joke, but steve turns the joke on him, twice

a/n: inspired by this post from @rogueddie (hi hello big fan of your headcanons)

click here to read on ao3

By the time Eddie comes back to the living room, carrying two bowls of popcorn, his friends have taken every available spot on the couch and on the floor.

It’s a full house tonight at the Harrington residence with El, Will and Jonathan visiting from California plus the local pipsqueaks, Wheeler, Buckley, Eddie and the host himself. 

Eddie spots Steve on the couch and he marches over to him, ignoring the grunts and grumbles from the kids as he steps over them where they sit on the assortment of pillows and blankets laid on the floor. On his way over, Eddie hands one of the bowls to Mini Byers and the other one to El, knowing that out of everyone on the floor, they’re the most likely to actually share it. Meanwhile, Buckley and Jonathan are already holding their own bowl each, meant to be shared among the grown-ups piled on the couch. 

Usually two bowls are enough, but given that there’s more of them tonight, Steve had to bring out two more JiffyPop and he asked Eddie to bring them back while he got everyone settled in the living room. 

Which means it’s Steve’s fault that there’s no room left for Eddie to sit.  

Okay. Maybe there’s actually room for him to sit. Maybe Eddie could take the free spot on one of the blankets right next to Max. Maybe he could steal one of the many pillows that Henderson is hoarding and comfortably enjoy the movie. 

The thing is he doesn’t want to. He always sits next to Steve when there’s fewer of them and he’d hope tonight would be the same, but that spot is currently occupied by Buckley, who isn’t going to move no matter how nicely Eddie asks, and since Steve’s other side is squished against the arm of the couch to make enough room for four people to sit on the otherwise three-people couch, Eddie can’t ask him to scoot over.

And before Eddie sucks it up and sits on the floor, he’s going to whine about it. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t save me a seat, Stevie,” Eddie pouts, standing between his legs.

Steve’s big Bambi eyes blink up at him. “I tried, Eds, but Robs threatened me so I would give her your spot.” 

And oh- Eddie didn’t actually expect Steve to try and save him a seat, he was just messing with him. The fact that he apparently did makes Eddie’s stomach flutter. 

Next to Steve, Robin smiles smugly at him.

“You’ve fought monsters from another dimension and you’re afraid of Birdie?” Eddie asks, huffing indignantly. Buckley flips him off. 

“She threatened to bite me, man!” 

Eddie tsks. “You survived several bites from hell bats, you could’ve let her bite you.” 

“You let her bite you then!” Steve counters, lightly kicking Eddie’s leg. 

“I don’t want to bite either of you,” Robin says, her nose scrunched up. “I want to watch the movie. Dustin, hit play,” she says, throwing a kernel at Henderson’s head, who grumbles and crawls over to the VHS. “Eddie, sit down,” she says, throwing one at him too. 

Eddie gets an idea and he grins maliciously.

“As you wish, my lady,” he says with a flourish of his hand.  

Then Eddie turns around and flops down on Steve’s lap.

Steve lets out a yelp. “Jesus, what are you doing?” 

“Buckley said to sit down,” Eddie shrugs, glancing at Steve over his shoulder. “And since there’s no room, thanks to you, I’m taking the last available seat.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “My lap?” Eddie nods smugly. “Eddie, there’s plenty of room on the floor.” 

“But this is more comfortable, Stevie.”

“For you, maybe,” Steve snorts, pinching Eddie’s side. “Your tailbone is digging into my leg, Munson.”

“Well, Harrington, this wouldn’t have happened if you’d save me a seat!” 

“Shhhh!” 

Eddie flips Buckley off for shushing them. She glares at him for bickering when the movie already started playing.  

Okay. Maybe Steve was right to be afraid of her- she has a very mean glare.

“Fine,” Eddie concedes before Buckley actually bites him. He sighs dramatically, “I guess I’ll sit on the floor like a dog-”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Literally everyone else is sitting there and no one is complaining-”

Eddie ignores him. “And here I thought you liked me, Stevie, cared about me. I thought we were friends-” he says, clutching his chest.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve mutters in exasperation.

But when Eddie tries to stand up, Steve’s hands grab his hips, pulling him back into his lap. He flails and almost topples over onto Robin and Steve’s grip on his hips tightens. 

“Dude, stop moving.” 

“I’m trying to get up!” Eddie says, throwing his arms up.

Steve sighs. “Just-” He trails off, instead manhandling Eddie until he’s properly sitting on his lap and not sliding off of it, and wrapping his arms around his waist, trapping Eddie against his chest. 

Eddie lets out an entirely involuntary, undignified squawk. Blood starts rushing to his cheeks alarmingly fast. “Um, Steve, what are you doing?” 

“Getting comfortable,” Steve says, his cheek squished against Eddie’s shoulder. 

A nearly hysterical laugh tumbles over Eddie’s lips. “Dude, I was fucking around, I can sit on the floor-”

“And spend the rest of the movie whining and pouting? No, thanks. Just don’t move too much, okay? Your ass is boney.”

Unable to help himself, Eddie gives a tee-hee giggle. “So many dirty jokes I could make.”

Steve squeezes his side. “Don’t-”

“Shhhhh!” 

This time, it’s not just Buckley shutting them up, everyone else joins in.

“Just watch the movie, Eddie,” Steve whispers into his ear so he doesn’t disturb the others.

Eddie has to bite his bottom lip to keep quiet when he feels Steve’s warm breath tickling his neck. “Okay,” he says, his voice coming out a little squeaky.

But Steve doesn’t comment on it, simply tightens his arms around Eddie’s waist and leans back against the couch, bringing Eddie with him so they’re basically spooning. 

Eddie nervously glances around the living room, but no one is paying attention to them. Well, no one except Robin, who’s staring at them, her eyes twinkling with amusement. Eddie ignores her and the knowing smile that stretches over her lips, trying to focus on the movie.

But try as he might, he can’t pay attention to it- not when he can feel Steve’s breath against his neck, his arms around his waist, his chin hooked on his shoulder and his solid body underneath him. 

Being so close to Steve- on top of him, makes Eddie jittery and restless. But he can’t move, Steve told him not to, so he tries to sit still. 

He lasts, approximately, five minutes.

Soon, he starts wringing his fingers together on his lap, playing with his rings. 

Steve notices, and with a huff that sends shivers down Eddie’s spine when his breath tickles his neck, he grabs Eddie’s hands and traps them against his stomach. 

Eddie’s eyes fall to their hands, and his breath catches in his throat at the way their fingers rest intertwined against his stomach. He can’t look away- not when Steve’s fingers start drawing patterns over his skin, tracing the veins in his wrists, playing with his rings, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles. 

Eddie has to bite down on his tongue to stop himself from squealing. It only gets harder to keep quiet when something funny happens on screen- not that Eddie knows what is going on at all- and Steve laughs right in Eddie’s ear, squeezing his middle.

This time Eddie does let out a squeak which he hopes passes off as a laugh. 

It doesn’t.

“You okay?” Steve asks, and Eddie doesn’t know how he expects him to give a coherent answer when he can feel Steve’s nose poking his cheek.

Their faces are so close that if Eddie turned his head to the side his lips would brush against Steve’s, he would only need to lean in an inch or two and he’d be kissing him-

“Eds?” 

“Mhm, I’m great, Stevie boy!” Eddie says with a slightly strangled voice, but it’s enough for Steve, who turns his attention back to the movie. 

Eddie still has no idea of what’s going on, but he tries his damnedest to focus on that instead of focusing on all the ways Steve is touching him right now. 

He didn’t plan for this- he just wanted to mess with Steve a little and now he’s the one being messed with. 

Not that Steve knows what he’s doing. He would never fuck with Eddie like this if he knew about his big crush on him. He’s just oblivious- and incredibly touchy when it comes to Eddie. 

Which makes the remaining forty minutes spent in Steve’s arms both Eddie’s personal heaven and his personal hell.

That’s why when the credits starts to roll, Eddie lets out a relieved sigh. He expects Steve to push him off right away, but he doesn’t, not even when little by little everyone starts to clear out. Buckley jumps to her feet and clumsily sprints towards the bathroom, the kids all rush to the kitchen to raid Steve’s pantry while ignoring his protests and Nancy and Jonathan start gathering the pillows and the blankets scattered on the floor. 

Meanwhile, Steve squeezes Eddie’s side again and asks right into his ear- 

“You’re spending the night, right, Eds?” 

He knows Steve means to sleep. They talked about it when they realized that with Nancy and Jonathan both coming to movie night, Eddie wouldn’t need to drop the kids off afterwards so he could sleep over. It’s nothing new- they’ve been doing it for months. It’s just the way he’s asking right now, quietly and right into Eddie’s ear, his arms wrapped around Eddie’s middle- all of it makes Eddie’s stomach flutter wildly. 

“Y-yeah, sure thing, Stevie.”

“Okay, good,” Steve says, giving Eddie’s waist one last squeeze before finally pushing him off him and onto the couch gently so he can deal with whatever mess the kids can be heard making in the kitchen. 

Eddie slumps against the couch, sighing wistfully. Despite everything, he already misses the way Steve felt under him, how his arms felt around him, how his fingers felt playing with his own. 

“You good, man?” Jonathan asks, pausing as he folds one of the blankets to raise an eyebrow at him.

Eddie gives him two thumbs up that Jonathan accepts with a nod before he goes back to the task at hand, chatting with Nancy about the movie. Eddie is lucky that they don’t ask for his opinion on it- he doesn’t know if he’d be able to lie convincingly. 

Soon enough everyone is saying goodbye to Eddie and Steve before some of them climb into Nancy’s car and the rest do the same in Jonathan’s. They don’t question that Eddie is staying- the only one who acknowledges it is Robin, who gives Eddie that same knowing smile from before. And just like he did before, Eddie ignores it. 

Once it’s just the two of them, Steve starts guiding them to his bedroom. 

Eddie stopped sleeping in a guest room a long time ago after one night when a particularly awful nightmare had him knocking on Steve’s door and crawling into his bed. 

The next day, they both admitted it was the best sleep they’d had in weeks. 

The next time Eddie spent the night, Steve had led them both to his bedroom right away- just like every night after that.

“What did you think of the movie?” Steve asks, digging through his closet for sleeping clothes. 

“Um,” Eddie starts, trying to remember at least one thing about the movie he can comment on but coming up blank. “I, uh, didn’t pay much attention to it.”

Oblivious to the reason why Eddie didn’t pay attention, Steve hums. “Not your thing, huh? Next movie night you can be the one to pick.” He turns around and tosses some clothes at Eddie, who fumbles to catch them- and fails. Steve sniggers at him before he starts looking for clothes for himself. 

Eddie picks his up- a pair of Steve’s old basketball shorts and one of Eddie’s own band t-shirts that he must’ve left here at some point. Or Steve might’ve grabbed from his trailer. Beds aren’t the only thing they share these days. 

“Will you save me a seat next movie night?”

Steve glances at Eddie over his shoulder, his lips tugging up into a smirk. “Maybe I’ll just have you sit on my lap again,” he says with a wink. Good lord.

Eddie makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat at the thought of another movie night spent on Steve’s lap. Then, before Steve can ask if he’s okay, he gestures to the bathroom and locks himself there to change.

When he comes back out, Steve is starfished on his bed, wearing his own pair of basketball shorts and an old swim meet shirt.

Eddie takes a moment to stare at him- the way the shorts ride up on his legs, the way his arms bulge even when he isn’t flexing them, the way his hair fans across his pillow.

Then he impulsively sprints towards the bed and launches himself on top of Steve. 

He lets out a pained noise when Eddie lands on him, knocking the wind out of him, but his hands come up to grab Eddie’s arms, holding him in place and not letting him slide off him and onto the bed like he intended to.

“Seriously, dude?” Steve asks, slightly out of breath. 

Eddie laughs into his shoulder. “Sorry, Stevie, I couldn’t help myself.” 

Steve huffs. “I’m starting to think you like being on top of me.”

Eddie shrugs. “Actually, I usually picture you on top.”

Steve snorts out a startled sort of chuckle, eyebrows raised in amusement, and Eddie’s cheeks blaze red as he belatedly realizes what he just blurted out. 

He doesn’t know what to do next. If he should play it off as a joke or climb off of Steve and run out of the house- 

He thinks Steve is making the decision for him when he adjusts the grip he has on his arms. He thinks he’s about to shove Eddie off, tell him that it’s never gonna happen, Eds. 

Eddie starts to push himself up, feeling embarrassed already-

But then Steve digs his fingers into his arms, and in one swift movement, he flips them over so it’s Eddie laying flat on his back on the bed with Steve hovering over him, smirking playfully. “Like this?” 

Eddie blinks at him, waiting for his brain to restart after completely shutting down from how effortlessly Steve flipped them over. 

“I- huh? Steve- what-” 

“You said you like to picture me on top,” Steve says, shrugging casually. Their hips are pressed together and their faces are only inches apart- Eddie doesn’t understand how Steve can act casual about anything right now. “Personally, I don’t have a preference. I also liked being under you.” 

Eddie splutters. “S- Steve?”

“Yeah?” Steve asks innocently, tilting his head like a confused puppy. His hips shift and Eddie realizes just how thin the material of their shorts is. Jesus H. Christ.

“What the fuck?” Eddie mutters. 

“What the fuck what?” 

Steve can’t be this oblivious, for fuck’s sake. 

Eddie covers his face with his hands, taking a deep breath. “Jesus fuck, okay. Steve, when I said- I didn’t mean it as a joke, okay? I didn’t mean to say it at all, but I- our crotches are basically pressed together right now and I can’t not say it. I have a fucking- honestly a fucking embarrassing crush on you so when I said I think about you on top of me, I meant it, and I meant it in like, a sexual way and a- a romantic way and I know you’re joking right now, but this- well, this is about to get reeeally awkward really fast if you don’t get off of me.” 

Eddie peeks through his fingers and finds Steve biting his lower lip like he’s thinking something over. 

“Do you want me to move?” 

“Fuck, no,” Eddie admits with a sigh. “But Steve-”

“Eddie, hey,” Steve cuts in, grabbing Eddie’s wrist and trying to move his hand away from his face. “Look at me.” 

With another sigh, Eddie complies, lowering his hands and looking at Steve.

“There you are,” Steve says, his eyes softening when they meet Eddie’s. 

“Steve-”

“I’m not joking,” Steve tells him. “I like you too, Eddie. Romantically, sexually, all of it.”

Eddie’s breath catches in his throat. He blinks at Steve. “But- but you’re- you’re straight.”

“I’m not actually,” Steve snorts. When Eddie just stares at him, mouth agape, he sighs. “Eds, I let you sit on my lap for two hours, I basically spooned you.” He looks down between them and looks back at Eddie with a raised eyebrow. “I’m literally straddling you right now-” 

“I’m aware,” Eddie mutters, his voice coming out slightly strangled. 

Steve ignores him. “And I really really like you, so- definitely not straight.” 

Eddie lays there in silence for a few seconds as he tries to wrap his head around the fact that not only is Steve Harrington into guys, he’s into Eddie. 

“Holy shit,” he says finally and then, “why- why didn’t you say anything? You had to know I like you back.”

Steve gives a half shrug. “I thought I’d ease you into it first-”

“Ease me into it?” Eddie’s voice is about an octave too high. “You call this easing me into it? I think my brain melted out of my ears when you flipped us over like that!”

Steve raises an eyebrow at him. “Well, you sat on top of me first! I was just taking a page out of your own book-”

“What book? There’s no book! I was just joking, you were the one who trapped me there!”

“Well, when the guy you’ve had a crush on for months sits on your lap you don’t let him go,” Steve admits, shyly ducking his head. 

Eddie gulps. “Months?”

“Yeah, Eddie, months,” Steve admits, his fingers absently playing with Eddie’s hair where it fans across the bed.

“Holy shit.”

“You’re just gonna keep saying that?” Steve asks with a sheepish grin. 

“What do you want me to say?” He’ll say anything Steve wants him to just to keep them both like this. 

Steve’s eyes dart down to Eddie’s mouth. “Nothing, actually,” he says, licking his lips. “I want you to kiss me.”

Holy shit, Eddie thinks to himself, and then without another thought, he surges up, looping his arms around Steve’s shoulders as he all but mashes their lips together.

Steve hums into Eddie’s mouth and melts into him, kissing Eddie back. He lowers his arms, holding himself up with one elbow, using his other hand to cup Eddie’s head, fingers tangling in his hair. His lips move against Eddie’s so tenderly and slowly that it makes his stomach fill with butterflies.

Then Steve tongues gently at Eddie’s bottom lip and the butterflies explode. 

Eddie immediately parts his mouth, giving Steve permission, and his eyes nearly roll back when Steve slips his tongue inside, deepening the kiss. Eddie cards his fingers through Steve’s hair, giving it a soft pull, causing Steve to make this punched-out groaning sound. Chasing that sound with his tongue, Eddie carefully explores every inch of Steve’s mouth.

Eventually, Steve starts to slow down the kiss, but Eddie doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want to breathe, he just wants to kiss him, but he can’t do anything when Steve leans back and out of reach, the lower part of his body trapping him against the bed.

Unless-

Eddie grabs Steve’s arms and tries to flip them the way Steve did earlier but, while he made it look easy and effortless, Eddie can’t find enough leverage to budge Steve and he flops back down.

“Motherfucker,” Eddie huffs. “How did you make it seem so easy?”

“It is easy,” Steve says with a grin. “You’re just not strong enough, baby.”

Eddie squeals at the pet name- and then squeals again when Steve successfully flips them over again so that Eddie is straddling him.

He grins up at Eddie, that lopsided boyish grin that drives Eddie crazy and that it’s only worse now that Steve’s lips are red and slick with spit. “How’s that?” 

“Hot. Christ, that’s fucking hot,” Eddie says with a breathless chuckle. 

“So, that’s a yes to being on top?” Steve asks with a raised eyebrow, his hands grabbing Eddie’s hips like they did back on the couch. Only this time Eddie isn’t planning on getting off of him any time soon. Preferably never. 

“Sweetheart, that’s a yes to absolutely anything ever.”

Steve bites his lip, then he asks softly, “What if I ask you to be my boyfriend?”

Eddie’s brain screeches to a halt. His eyes nearly bulge out of his head. “You-you want to be my boyfriend?”

“Pretty fucking badly actually,” Steve shyly admits. 

Eddie whimpers softly. “Holy shit,” he mutters. Then he swoops down and gives Steve a kiss that he hopes translates to fucking shit yes! 

By the way Steve laughs delightedly against Eddie’s lips, he thinks he gets the message across. 

[midnightfict]

A Star in the Making.

— 𓆩𓆪 —

𓆩 Lee Byung-Hun x F!reader 𓆪

Summary — Co-stars were caught in a whirlwind of off-screen chemistry.

A/N — this is a request that i rewrote the draft multiple times. the story request itself is sooo good but i feel this didn't live up to my expectations. hopefully, it's an enjoyable read though.

anon's request post

— 𓆩𓆪 —

Lee Byung-hun sat at the long, polished table across from Kim Tae-ri and the production team, a script resting unopened in front of him. The meeting room buzzed with quiet anticipation as the director leaned forward, clearing his throat.

“So,” the director began, looking between Byung-hun and Tae-ri, “we’re finalizing casting for Our Fading Days. Ji-ho and Min-ji are set, but we’re still struggling with Ha-yoon.”

Kim Tae-ri, who got cast as Min-ji tilted her head. “Isn’t the screen test next week? I thought you had a shortlist already.”

The director sighed. “We do, but none of them quite fit. Ha-yoon is vital to the story. We need someone who embodies her hopeful, cheerful energy, but also has depth. Someone who can hold her own against Ji-ho’s quieter nature and make the audience feel that emotional connection.”

Byung-hun listened quietly, his fingers lightly drumming the table. “What’s the issue with the shortlist?” he asked.

“Either they have great chemistry with you but lack the character,” the director explained, “or have the character but can’t create the platonic bond Ji-ho and Ha-yoon need. We’re considering holding another round of auditions, but…”

The producer chimed in. “We’re running out of time. If either of you has recommendations, please send them our way.”

Kim Tae-ri raised a brow at Byung-hun. “Any ideas?”

He shook his head. “Not yet.”

That evening, Byung-hun walked home under the dim city lights. The meeting lingered in his mind. Casting Ha-yoon was proving difficult, and he wasn’t sure they’d find someone who could balance the character’s charm and vulnerability.

As he passed a local theater, he noticed the soft glow of lights through the windows. Something pulled at him—curiosity, maybe. Without thinking, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The auditorium was nearly empty, save for a handful of people rehearsing on stage. Byung-hun’s gaze locked on a young woman, her. She stood at the center, pouring raw emotion into a heartfelt scene. Her voice carried across the room, weaving between desperation and hope. The intensity in her eyes made the dialogue feel alive like she wasn’t just acting but being.

He didn’t know the play or her name, but he felt a pang of admiration. The way she transitioned from lighthearted to deeply emotional reminded him of Ha-yoon’s complexity.

When the scene ended, her laughter rang out as she joked with the cast. The shift was so effortless that it startled him. This wasn’t just an actress—this was Ha-yoon.

Before he could gather his thoughts, a stage crew member approached him. “Sorry, sir, rehearsals aren’t open to the public.”

Byung-hun nodded apologetically. “My mistake.”

As he walked out, he pulled out his phone and called the director. “I think I found the perfect Ha-yoon. Contact the Arko Arts Theater. You’ll know her when you see her.”

⋆｡𖦹° ⏾ ˚｡⋆

Months passed, and filming for Our Fading Days was in full swing. You, cast as Ha-yoon, had been a bundle of nerves during your first few days on set. Transitioning from theater to television was daunting, but Byung-hun made it easier.

From the start, he was supportive, sharing tips, running lines, and reassuring you when you doubted yourself. “You’re doing great,” he said one evening after a long day of filming. “Better than great. Ha-yoon feels real because of you.”

“Thanks,” you murmured, still unsure. “It just feels… unnatural sometimes. Like I’m out of place.”

He smiled softly. “If that’s unnatural, I can’t imagine what you’re like when you’re in your element.”

The two of you quickly became inseparable. Lunch breaks were spent sharing snacks, late-night text exchanges were filled with inside jokes, and off-set outings turned into a regular thing. Kim Tae-ri often teased the both of you, trying to nudge the relationship further, but you and Byung-hun were oblivious to her hints.

As filming wrapped up, you found yourself bittersweet about the end. “I’m going to miss all of this,” you admitted one day.

He glanced at you. “You mean the show or…”

“Everything,” you replied vaguely.

The promotional interviews were in full swing, and the three of you, Lee Byung-hun, Kim Tae-ri, and you, sat on a couch, microphones in hand, under the bright studio lights.

The interviewer smiled as they turned to the group. “The story of Our Fading Days is so compelling—a childhood friendship between Ji-ho and Ha-yoon drifting apart as Ji-ho falls in love with Min-ji. It’s relatable and bittersweet. But,” they continued, their tone shifting to something more playful, “fans have picked up on something surprising. Despite Ji-ho and Ha-yoon not being a romantic pair, viewers are shipping you two. What do you think about that?”

You blinked, caught off guard for a moment, and then laughed lightly. “Oh, well, I guess it’s pretty common to root for the childhood best friend to end up with the main guy, even though Ji-ho and Ha-yoon see each other as strictly platonic. But yeah, I understand them, Ha-yoon's reaction towards their deteriorating friendship might seem more than platonic to the viewers.”

Before you could say more, Kim Tae-ri let out an amused laugh, shaking her head. “I think you misunderstood. The question wasn’t about Ji-ho and Ha-yoon. They’re asking about you and Byung-hun.”

Your eyes widened as the realization hit, and heat crept up your neck. “Oh.” You let out a nervous laugh, glancing at Byung-hun for support.

Byung-hun grinned, clearly amused by your reaction. “Really?” he said, leaning into the playful tone, “Shipping us? Wow, that’s a first—I didn’t think I had the qualifications to keep up with her. She’s the real star here!”

You laughed along with him, brushing it off. “He's too nice but yeah, Let's keep the shipping between our fictional lives.”

Kim Tae-ri smiled knowingly, her tone light but deliberate. “I don't know, you guys...” She paused, then added slyly, “Min-ji might just be the third wheel around here.”

The interviewer raised their eyebrows, the audience chuckled, and you felt your face grow warmer as you exchanged a quick, sheepish glance with Byung-hun. He gave a soft laugh, shaking his head in mock defeat, and the moment moved on—though the subtle tension lingered in the air.

⋆｡𖦹° ⏾ ˚｡⋆

Even after promotions ended, Byung-hun remained a constant in your life. He came to your theater performances, always waiting backstage with flowers in hand.

“You’re spoiling me,” you joked one night after a show, hugging him tightly.

“You deserve it,” he replied.

That evening, as you both strolled under the city lights, he suddenly stopped.

“You know,” he said, his tone a little nervous.

“Hmm?” you asked, looking up at him.

“I was thinking...” He rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. “Ji-ho and Ha-yoon might make a great couple. Their relationship is certainly more than some friendship, don't you think? ”

Your eyes widened, and for a moment, you were speechless. Then you laughed, the sound warm and genuine.

“Is Ji-ho trying to confess, here?” you teased.

“Maybe,” he admitted, grinning.

You tilted your head, pretending to think. “Well… Ha-yoon definitely can sense the adoration Ji-ho has for her. I can say that she feels the same way.”

He chuckled, his hand brushing yours. “I'm glad she feels the same. She's a star in the making and he will continue walking her way.”

As the two of you walked on, hand in hand, the city seemed brighter than ever.

[reidmarieprentiss]

Quickie?

Summary: Reader wants to sneak in a quickie before the BAU takes off again.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x FBI fem!reader

Category: fluff, suggestive (16+)

Warnings/Includes: suggestive content, secret relationship, reader works at FBI but not BAU

Word count: 1.7k

a/n: this is much more positive than the last post :)

main masterlist

You and Spencer have been secretly seeing each other for a few months now. Since you work in a different department, you don’t get to see him as often as you’d like, and you never have the chance to join him on cases. 

The moment you see the news that the BAU is heading out on another case, your heart sinks just a little. You understand that Spencer’s job is demanding—he’s always chasing criminals across the country, putting his mind to work in ways that save lives. But it doesn’t make it any easier when he’s gone for days at a time, leaving you to miss him in silence.

With a quiet sigh, you pull out your phone and type out a message:

Meet me upstairs before you go?

You don’t have to say where. You both know. The fifth-floor office—empty, forgotten, your little sanctuary within the walls of the FBI. It had started as a joke, just a place to escape prying eyes when work got overwhelming, but over time, it had turned into something more. A safe space for the two of you.

The reply comes almost instantly.

Give me five minutes.

You don’t hesitate, pushing away from your desk and making your way to the stairs instead of the elevator. The anticipation sits heavy in your chest, a mixture of excitement and something almost desperate.

By the time you push open the office door, Spencer is already there, leaning against the desk, his messenger bag slung over his shoulder. His eyes soften the moment they meet yours.

“You’re fast,” you say, closing the door behind you.

“I wasn’t going to waste any time,” he murmurs, already reaching for you. His hands find your wrists, pulling you closer as he stays seated on the desk. His touch is warm and grounding, even through the layers of clothing.

Your fingers drift up to the collar of his cardigan, playing with the fabric as you let yourself relax in his presence. “I hate that you have to go.”

“I know.” He sighs, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I hate it too. But I’ll call you as soon as I land.”

You nod, though it doesn’t really make it easier. “I just wish we had more time.”

His hand moves to your waist and tightens ever so slightly. “Me too.” There’s a pause, a hesitation in his expression, before he adds, “I think about you all the time when I’m gone.”

Your heart stutters at his confession, a warmth spreading through your chest. “Yeah?”

Spencer huffs out a soft, shy laugh. “Yeah.”

You can’t help but smile, reaching up to brush a lock of hair away from his face. “Then you better come back to me in one piece.”

You lean in, pressing a sweet kiss to Spencer’s lips—soft, slow, something that feels like a promise. When you pull away, he stays close, murmuring against your mouth, “Always.”

Something about Spencer’s breath ghosting across your lips sends a shiver down your spine. The soft pink hue creeping down his neck is so endearing that it stokes a fire deep in your stomach, pooling heat beneath your skin. You lean in for another kiss, slow and deliberate, savoring the way he melts beneath your touch. One hand threads gently through his hair, fingers curling lightly at the roots, while the other traces delicate patterns against his chest, nails just barely scratching over the fabric between you.

Spencer gets lost for a moment, his mind short-circuiting as he tries to process the reality of you—of your lips on his, of your hands in his hair, of the way you look at him like he’s something to be devoured. It still feels surreal, like a dream he’s half-convinced he’ll wake up from because someone as beautiful as you want him like this doesn’t seem possible.

But then reality crashes back in—the fluorescent hum of the office lights, the distant chatter from the floors below, the ever-present risk of someone walking in. His fingers tighten briefly against your waist before he forces himself to gently push against your shoulders.

“Wait…wait,” he murmurs, his voice breathless and uneven as he tries to collect himself. “We can’t do this here.”

Your lips are already trailing along his neck, warm and teasing, and the way you hum against his skin makes his resolve waver.

“Do what?” you tease, your voice laced with mischief as you press another slow, deliberate kiss just beneath his jaw.

Spencer exhales sharply, his head tipping back slightly before he forces himself to lean away, his cheeks flushed as he fumbles for words. “Um… this.”

Your fingers curl at the nape of his neck, holding him close, your voice dipping into something dangerously sweet.

“What are we doing, baby?” you whisper, letting the words linger between you, daring him to say it.

Spencer’s breath stutters as he struggles to find the right words, his hands hovering uselessly over your hips as if he can't decide whether to pull you closer or push you away. His face is already flushed, the color creeping down his neck and disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt.

“I—I’m… Y/N, I’m going to… uh, get—” He swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tries and fails to look anywhere but at you. Finally, he forces the word out in a near whisper as if saying it any louder might make it worse. “Hard.”

A slow, knowing smile spreads across your lips as you tilt your head slightly, fingers still tracing lazy patterns along his chest. His honesty is endearing, his nervousness downright intoxicating, and the way his voice wavers only makes the fire in your stomach burn hotter.

“Oh,” you murmur, feigning innocence as your hand moves just the slightest bit lower. “Is that a problem?”

Spencer squeezes his eyes shut for a brief moment, exhaling sharply through his nose like he's gathering every ounce of self-control he has left.

“Yes,” he says, though it sounds more like a plea than a protest. “We’re at work.”

“And?” you press, leaning in just enough to let your lips ghost over his jaw.

He shudders, his grip on your waist tightening. “And… I can’t walk out of here like that.”

“Who says you’ll have to leave here hard?” you murmur, your voice dripping with mischief, your fingers still dancing lightly over his chest.

Spencer’s breath hitches, his body stiff as your words' weight settles over him. His pupils dilate, and for a brief second, you see the internal war flashing across his face—temptation battling with logic, desire against reason.

“Y/N…” His voice is barely above a whisper, shaky and uneven, like he’s already losing control. His fingers dig into your waist as if anchoring himself, but it’s no use—you can feel him unraveling beneath your touch.

Still, he shakes his head, his resolve clinging to the last fragile thread of professionalism he has left. “No, we can’t—not here.”

But his voice lacks conviction, and the way he’s looking at you, lips parted, breath shallow, tells you he wants nothing more than to give in.

You pout, tilting your head as your fingers trace slow, lazy circles against his chest. “Not here?” you echo, feigning disappointment. “That’s a shame… I was really looking forward to helping you with your little problem.”

Spencer exhales sharply through his nose, gripping your hips a little tighter like he's trying to physically keep himself in check. “It’s not—” He swallows, glancing toward the closed door like he’s calculating the risk. “It’s not a little problem.”

A slow, knowing smile spreads across your lips as you press closer, feeling the way his breath stutters at the contact. “Oh?” you tease, letting your hand trail just a little lower—not too much, just enough to make him squirm. “Is it a big problem, then?”

Spencer groans, tilting his head back in exasperation. “Y/N…” he warns, though his grip on you doesn’t loosen. If anything, it tightens.

You press a quick, teasing kiss to the underside of his jaw, feeling the way his pulse hammers beneath your lips. “I just think it’s kind of unfair,” you say innocently. “You’re about to leave for who knows how long, and I won’t even get to see you. The least I could do is make sure you’re… comfortable before you go.”

Spencer squeezes his eyes shut for a moment as if trying to gather every ounce of restraint he has left. “You are not making this easy.”

You hum, dragging your nails lightly over the fabric of his shirt. “You told me you didn’t want it to be hard.”

His breath catches, and he glares at you, but there’s no real heat behind it—just frustration laced with something darker, something wanting. “You cannot say things like that.”

“Why not?” You bat your eyelashes at him. “You’re the one who admitted to getting hard at work.”

Spencer groans, dropping his forehead against your shoulder like he’s conceding defeat. “You’re evil.”

You giggle, threading your fingers through his hair and scratching lightly at his scalp. “But you like it.”

He huffs out a breath against your neck, warm and shaky. “Unfortunately.”

You grin, pressing a lingering kiss to the side of his face before pulling back just enough to look at him properly. “Relax, baby,” you whisper, smoothing your hands over his chest. “I wouldn’t actually do anything here.” You lean in, your lips brushing against his in the softest tease of a kiss. “I just like making you squirm.”

Spencer exhales a laugh, shaking his head, but you can see how his eyes have darkened and how his fingers are still gripping your waist. “Yeah,” he mutters, his voice lower than before. “I noticed.”

You smirk, pressing one last playful kiss to his lips before pulling away completely, smoothing out your shirt like nothing had happened. “Well,” you say cheerfully, stepping back toward the door. “Have fun on your case.”

Spencer stares at you like he’s still recovering as if he’s not entirely sure if he should be frustrated or turned on. Probably both.

“You’re evil,” he repeats, though the way he’s looking at you says he wouldn’t have it any other way.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

tag list <333 @yokaimoon @khxna @noelliece @dreamsarebig @sleepey-looney @cocobean16 @placidus @criminalmindssworld @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg @charismatic-writer @fxoxo @hearts4spensco @furrybouquettrash @kathrynlakestone @chaneladdicted @time-himself @mentallyunwellsposts @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @gilwm @reggieswriter @loumouse @spencerreidsreads @i-live-in-spite @fanfic-viewer @bootylovers44 @atheniandrinkscoffee @niktwazny303 @dead-universe @hbwrelic @kniselle @cynbx @danielle143 @katemusic @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @laurakirsten0502 @geepinky @mxlviaa @libraprincessfairy @fortheloveofgubler @super-nerd22 @k-illdarlings @softestqueeen @eliscannotdance @pleasantwitchgarden @alexxavicry @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @criminal-spence @navs-bhat @taygrls @person-005 @asobeeee

[cambankromyy]

THE ISLAND LOOKOUT (pt.5): 2 to function - (smau & irl au) childhood bsf!rafe cameron x thornton!reader

series masterlist; general masterlist; taglist

about my taglist; ok until this i've been adding people to my taglist even if they didn't use the google form, but since its getting hard to keep track and i don't want to miss anyone, ill only be adding people who submit a google form (linked on my pinned post as well as at the top of every island lookout post). sorry if this is an inconvenience to any!!

part 4- part 5 - part 6

rafe pulled up to roni's house, honking the horn as she took her sweet time coming out. she was late—classic.

when she finally slid into the passenger seat, roni casually pulled out her cart, took a hit, and passed it over to him.without saying a word, she turned her head, blowing the smoke in his direction. rafe rolled his eyes but grabbed the cart out of her hand and took a hit himself.

music was blasting, windows down, the cool air mixing with the haze in the car. it was the perfect vibe—loud, carefree, and like they were in their own world. the drive to target felt like the most natural thing in the world, even if it might’ve been a little dangerous. but hey, they’d done this before. being high wasn’t the same as being drunk. it was fine.

they pulled into target, half-laughing and half-buzzed, like they were on a mission, but also not at all. the whole store was just a blur, with them bouncing between aisles, acting like they owned the place.

after that, they went back to tannyhill, sprawled out on the couch, snacks everywhere. rafe's phone buzzed—it was kelce, calling about something random. before they knew it, it turned into a facetime, and roni took the reins of the conversation.

rafe, needing a break from all the madness, tossed his phone to roni. “here, entertain kelce,” he joked, settling back into the couch. roni grinned and grabbed the phone, instantly hitting screen share. “lets see what he has to hide...” she said as she opened his snapchat memories. each pic was funnier than the last, and she couldn’t help laughing at whatever she found.

then she pressed the "flashbacks from this day" tag at the top, revealing the golden snap from three years ago. rafe, looking extra dramatic, with the caption: ��i’m watching you…” roni erupted in laughter, almost dropping the phone. kelce was already cracking up, and the chaos was contagious.

without a second thought, she saved the pic, posted it on kooked.out. the caption reading: “im watching you... #rafeflashbacks.” by the time rafe came back, he saw her still holding his phone, practically on the floor from laughing.

rafe came back into the room, saw her holding his phone, still laughing like a maniac. he raised an eyebrow. “what’d you do?”

roni handed him the phone, the kooked out page with the freshly posted flashback still on the screen.

rafe stared at his phone, confused and starting to go through the comments. “wait, what the hell? why’d you post that?”

she turned back to the phone, still grinning like a maniac. “ok bye kelce, boutta get my ass beat,” she said, cutting the facetime and laughing even harder.

and that was just the beginning. one post turned into another, and suddenly it was a full-on back-and-forth, each one more ridiculous than the last. of course, it wasn’t just them—everyone was watching. the posts blew up, people were commenting, and that only made the whole thing funnier.

they didn’t even think about the consequences— why would they? they were just messing around, having a good time. who cares what might happen when you're high and living the moment with your best, best, friend?

ahaahhhasdjahdj i loved making the posts at the end lollll ok this is for like character developent and next chapter (i think) will be the start of the turning point.

tags under the cut as always, and if u havent, read the notes abt tags at the top to be on my taglist!

tags: @italk2god @angelicameron @marleymarleymarleymarley, @queenvane64, @raeven-marie43 @idiotussupremus @sereneera @yesshewrites1 @inlovewithchriss @ethanthequeefqueen @amterasuu @popou61 @drewsstars @yannew @anothertimegirl @flvredcas @yootvi @mrsdrewstarkeyy @niaunofficial @cooper8224 @rafegetinmybed @pogueprincesa @6r4cie @adalia-lovelace @bee-43 @drewrry @masongetinmybed @defnotayonna @lcversvoid

[iclarye]

NUMBER ONE PARTY ANTHEM | PLAYERS 120 X 246

“Hyunju…” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper as he leans in closer. The faint smell of alcohol lingers between them. “Are you going to miss me? In Thailand?"

pairing: cho hyunju x park gyeongseok

word count: 1.9k

warnings: au - canon divergence, first kiss, drunken kisses, sexual tension, making out.

a/c: english is not my first language! wrote this for ao3 but I decided to post here for my fellow hyunju x gyeongseok lovers!

"I bought the tickets yesterday," Cho Hyunju says at last, blunt and to the point, a small smile on her lips. She doesn’t meet his eyes. "One way only."

She places her drink down slowly, feeling the edges of her tipsiness creeping in. Her vision wavers slightly, and she knows if she isn’t careful, the words will start pouring out of her mouth unchecked. She heads toward the backyard for some fresh air, hearing his footsteps close behind.

“You know, Thailand’s weather is ridiculously hot. And humid.” Gyeongseok says, trying to keep up with Hyunju’s fast pace. "Even for us Koreans."

Hyunju chuckles, unimpressed. She turns to face him, effectively stopping them in the middle of the hallway. “I know that. You and Geumja don’t need to remind me every second.”

He laughs along with her, leaning against the wall and taking another swig from his bottle. “Hyunju," he said with relish, rolling it around on his tongue, his words slurring just enough to reveal how drunk he is. His shirt undone at the top, revealing a flush chest, no doubt from all the soju he’s had. He sways slightly, his voice dripping as he teases, “Who’s gonna protect you if you go to Thailand alone?”

It’s a rhetorical question, almost a joke, despite their unspoken agreement to not talk about the games too much and drag the mood down during social gatherings, Gyeonseok can’t help himself. So often his thoughts would drift to Hyunju and her skill with guns. He wanted to ask her about it, to tell her how impressed he was with her.

He wanted to know her more.

Hyunju shakes her head, laughing more freely. He steps closer, and for a second, she thinks he might stumble and fall into her. She reaches out, steadying him with a hand on his chest and then grabbing his bottle. “You are drunk.”

He smirks, he wasn’t that drunk. “So, are you actually leaving then?”

“Gyeonseok…” Hyunju falters, and she looks away. She doesn’t understand exactly why it’s so hard and embarrassing to tell him about the plane tickets. Going to Thailand has been her goal, her dream, that’s why she went through that hell, that’s why she survived. Yet, looking at his eyes and telling him she’s going away make the words stick to her throat. “I-“

He sees this as an answer itself and nods, running a hand through his head and the other in his waist, he lets the silence stretch for a minute before saying a little lower. “I’m gonna miss you.”

Hyunju lifted her head and tilted it, almost like she didn’t get the words right, that she was imagining the whole interaction. She pursues her lips, wanting to say something, anything. “I-“

He cleaned his throat, his hand going to the back of his neck. She sees how the red in his exposed chest got a little more vibrant, she doesn’t think it’s the alcohol this time. “I mean, we’re all gonna miss you… You know.”

Hyunju nods her head then, giving him a little smile. “Yeah, yeah.” She says, a little chuckle leaving her lips.

Gyeonseok was by no means a talkative person. Neither was she. They rarely spoke about their times in the games. She never asked him why he had saved her, and he never asked her about Youngmi. Hyunju often thought that if she hadn’t run into him at that public park, she wouldn’t have reached out, or even come close to the kind of relationship they had now.

Or whatever they had between them.

He steps closer, leaving the wall behind to stand face-to-face with her. His arm moves slowly, his hand brushing lightly against her fingers as he takes the bottle from her grip. Without a word, he tilts it back and finishes what’s left of the alcohol.

At this closer distance, Hyunju sees more than the tired eyes and dark circles that seem to brand every survivor of the games, haunted by nightmares and memories they’d rather forget. Those were things she’d grown used to seeing. But now, she notices the fresh trim of his beard and how his hair is longer, like hers. Yet he’s changed in other ways, too. He seems lighter somehow, maybe even happier.

She tells herself she’ll feel that way soon, too. In Thailand.

“Hyunju…” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper as he leans in closer. The faint smell of alcohol lingers between them. She tilts her head instinctively, letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Are you going to miss me? In Thailand?"

Her nervous chuckle escapes before she can stop it, her eyes darting everywhere but his face. “Phones exist,” she says, her voice wavering slightly, trying to sound dismissive. “I can always call you.”

“That’s not what I asked you,” He says, a smirk playing on his lips. Hyunju can’t help but look before quickly averting her eyes again. “Are you gonna miss me?”

She doesn’t know why it’s so hard to say yes. Of course she’s going to miss him, it should be an easy answer. if Geumja asked her the same question, she wouldn’t feel that nervous. But then again, the way she’ll miss the old woman isn’t the same as the way she’ll miss Gyeongseok.

She stays silent then, unable to meet his gaze. He let out a soft sign and his grin widened, like he’s been reading her mind all along. And maybe he can. For once, Hyunju wishes she’d had more to drink, enough to blame the flush on her cheeks on the alcohol rather than the proximity of him.

He sets the empty bottle on a nearby desk, then lifts a hand to her jaw. His fingers brush her skin lightly as he tilts her face up to meet his eyes. His voice is soft. "No?"

She finally looks into his eyes and swallows hard, her gaze dragging across his face. The tired shadows beneath his eyes, the sharp angles of his cheekbones, the curve of his nose, and then his lips. Her attention sticks there, her head shaking in response to his question, though her focus remains locked on his mouth.

His finger moves to her chin, a firmer touch now, guiding her focus back to him. He wets his lips once, and for a moment, Hyunju is certain he’s about to say something. But his eyes speak instead, asking for permission.

She nods, once, then again, her breath catching as it leaves her lungs.

And then he kisses her.

At first, it’s soft, almost hesitant. His hand cradles her jaw as he leads the kiss, his movements careful, aware of her nervousness. He can feel it in the way her hands stay at her sides, her fingers fidgeting anxiously like she always does. So, when he pulls back to breathe, he’s half expecting her to step away, maybe slap him in the face and run to the main room where the others are still laughing and drinking. He fears this might be the last time he’ll see her like this.

But then she kisses him.

This time, it’s stronger, more certain. The sudden intensity catches him off guard, and their teeth clash briefly before he adjusts, tilting his head to find the right angle. Her hands move, one to the back of his neck, the other to his shoulder, and the warmth of her touch sends a spark through him. His body responds instinctively, heat rising with every second. He wants more. He wants her.

The kiss deepens, growing heated as Gyeongseok lets himself push his tongue into her mouth. Hyunju responds instinctively, a soft moan escaping her as she steps closer, her body leaning into his.

When they finally pull away, both are breathless. Gyeongseok wears a foolish grin, unable to help himself as he takes in Hyunju’s flushed face and slightly swollen lips. He leans in for another kiss, but she presses a hand to his chest, stopping him.

“Someone’s going to see us,” she murmurs, her voice trembling slightly.

And she’s right. From the hallway, the sound of loud, drunken conversations and bottles clinking fills the air. Anyone could walk out and catch them at any moment, they’re lucky that it didn’t happen yet. But Gyeongseok doesn’t care. Not even a little. His grin softens into something more playful, his voice low as he replies, “I couldn’t care less.”

So he kissed her again, his hand slipping to the back of her head to guide her. This kiss is different—dirtier, wilder than the ones before. Hyunju doesn’t hesitate this time, her tongue meeting his with the same urgency, and she steps closer, sliding her thigh between his legs to pull him against her. Gyeongseok lets out a muffled moan, the sound escaping before he can stop it, and he has to break the kiss to catch his breath. Hyunju chuckles softly, amused by his reaction.

Gyeonseok is glad that they’re the same height because he can lean his forehead against her shoulder. Their shared breathlessness becomes a quiet moment of understanding before he turns his head slightly, pressing gentle kisses along the curve of her neck. Hyunju bites her lip, trying to stifle the noise threatening to escape her throat.

“I think we need to stop,” he murmurs, lifting his head from her shoulder and letting his lips trail along her jawline. The words feel like a betrayal to his own desires. He really doesn’t want to, He doesn’t want to stop, not when every part of him craves her. But the tightness in his pants is a stark reminder of how much this moment is affecting him, and he knows they’re at risk of losing control entirely.

Hyunju laughs more freely now, her hair a little messy and her lips swollen from the intensity of the kisses. Gyeongseok wonders if his lips look the same, but he doesn't ask. “Yeah,” she says softly, taking her legs between his and stepping back.

He follows her, pressing one more kiss to her lips, his hand resting on her waist. This time, it’s soft, tender, and even sweet. “You know,” he murmurs, pulling away from the kiss and creating some distance between them, “there’s this nice restaurant I know…”

“I would love to,” Hyunju responds, but then she looks down, avoiding his gaze. Her playful smirk makes his heart skip a beat. “This time you’ll be sober,” she teases, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I’m not…” Gyeongseok turns toward the wall, staring at it as he adjusts his pants. “I’m not that drunk. This wasn’t a drunk decision. I knew exactly what I was doing.” His voice shifts, a little more serious now.

He glances back at her, a smile tugging at his lips. “Maybe the alcohol just gave me courage,” he says with a shrug. “Next Monday, you’re still gonna be here?”

Hyunju answers his question without hesitation, but she doesn’t respond to his earlier deflation, even if the sparkling of her eyes tell everything about what she thinks. "Yeah, 12:00?"

“Alright,” he says, a grin spreading across his face. He heads for the door to the main living room but pauses before leaving. “Gonna come? Or need some fresh air?”

She wants to go with him, to stay at his side just a little longer, but after everything that just happened, she knows she needs a moment alone to catch her breath. “Fresh air. I’ll be there in a minute.”

He nods, walking toward the door before pausing and looking over his shoulder. “Oh, and Gyeongseok?” she calls softly.

“What?”

“Thailand’s not that far away, and the tickets are really cheap,” she says, watching as confusion flashes across his face before realization settles in. A smirk spreads across his lips.

“Just so you know,” she adds with a teasing smile, “if you want to visit me.”

[uriekukistan]

megumi and mahoraga: understanding megumi’s strategy & dismantling the jokes

i think one of the biggest misconceptions about megumi’s character is that he is a trigger happy loose cannon that is willing to throw his life away at any inconvenience. so for this post, i want to help in understanding the strategy in which megumi employs what he thinks for most of the story is his “ace in the hole,” his secret weapon that will ensure his victory, even if it comes with his death.

mostly, i’m just sick of the mahoraga jokes, and megumi being the butt of 85% of the jokes in this fandom in general, as well as the bum allegations, etc. megumi is not as weak or as reckless as a lot of people think, and i will have more to say about this soon🤞

in order to do this, i’ll be unpacking each time he allegedly attempted to summon mahoraga, including some false allegations as well.

against potential sukuna in ch1

at this point, megumi is unsure of a lot of things. he’s unsure of if he’s talking to yuuji or sukuna. he’s unsure of how powerful sukuna, the legendary king of curses, truly is. he’s unsure of how yuuji or sukuna will react to him attempting to kill them. he’s already seen how strong yuuji is without sukuna, so it’s reasonable (and correct) to assume that with sukuna’s power, he could easily take out megumi and all of his shikigami easily.

another thing to consider is that megumi is seriously injured, and likely concussed, which would impact his ability to maintain and control his shikigami. already, he’s been unable to summon nue, and his divine dogs have disappeared.

in a case where he is up against a special grade(+) curse with unknown power just in a single finger, and he is injured and unable to maintain his other shikigami, he pulls out his secret weapon because he doesn’t want to be responsible for sukuna going rampant in sendai, so even if he dies, he’ll have trapped sukuna in this ritual that would likely kill him too.

against sukuna (again) in ch9

sukuna is now 3x as strong as he was the first time megumi encountered him, and megumi has attempted to fight him both with his fists and his shikigami. he knows that his severely overpowered. he was already pushed to his limit by saving kugisaki as well. he’s lost two of his shikigami in one day, and nue is at its limit, he notes.

he knows there’s not much more he can do, but he still needs to stop sukuna because, again, he needs to take responsibility for both itadori eating the finger and saving his life. the only thing he has left is mahoraga. again, it makes perfect sense. he has no remaining options, but he knows what must be done.

the next three are played up in the anime, but in the manga, it’s more vague. i won’t spend much time on them because it’s purely speculative.

(alleged) against todo in ch17

this never happened, and while it was played up like he was going to in the anime, i just don’t get why. he would never have summoned mahoraga against todo. megumi is a cautious fighter and does only what’s necessary, saving and building his energy as necessary (this is a different post). he also is trying to avoid conflict as much as possible in this scene, so there’s no reason why he would summon mahoraga here.

(alleged) against hanami in ch46 & ch47

something else that i think was more clear in the anime, but vague in the manga.

in ch46, his hands are near the position, and he is thinking about how much stronger hanami is compared to inumaki, arguably the strongest (or at least rated highest) out of the three sorcerers there (megumi, inumaki, and kamo). it’s possible that he was about to summon mahoraga, but again, he realizes at this point that he’s severely overpowered. kamo has gone down. he thinks that inumaki is finished too. it’s just him and this curse he can’t hold a candle too. he figures if he’s going to die anyway, that he might as well try to take hanami out with him.

this thought process is developed more in ch47. he says he needs to use “everything he’s got” because “it’s inexcusable that he be the first to go down.” he’s concerned about his burden and responsibility, and doesn’t want to be the reason why more people get hurt. so since hanami’s curse will already kill him if he uses more jujutsu, he refuses to be the only one who goes down.

against the finger-bearer in ch58

again, it’s a similar situation to others that he’s been in. he’s cornered, severely injured, overpowered, and his shikigami are not holding up as a match against the finger bearer. he even thinks ahead of summoning mahoraga that he might die.

plus, it’s more serious than “if i’m going to die, i’m taking you with me.” it’s tsumiki who’s at stake, as well as kugisaki and itadori, who are nearby. he needs this curse to be exorcized. ultimately, he chooses to use his domain expansion for the first time instead.

against toji in ch113

he only briefly considers it (or so it seems). but one thing the anime does a horrible job of showing is that megumi is nearly burnt out of cursed energy, mainly from holding his domain in dagon’s domain (understandable, considering that’s such an impressive feat. he held it for a long time too). he’s also injured, so much so that he’s saying he’ll need to go to shoko if he can get away, which brings me into The Mahoraga Summoning.

against haruta in ch117

every time i see people talk about this, it’s always “why did he pull out mahoraga against this nobody?” i mean, it’s exactly the reasons i just mentioned. after fighting toji, he’s nearly completely burnt out of energy, and on top of that, he’s injured. he’s actually on his way to see shoko before he gets stabbed by haruta. he’s barely able to walk.

megumi is out of options. he can hardly stand for the summoning ritual. how is he supposed to fight off anyone, nobody or not? his one weapon he has left is mahoraga. he knows sukuna is out and about. he knows he can’t let haruta walk away from this. it’s the same thought process. “i’m going to die, so i’m going to take you with me.”

against sukuna in ch212

this seems like the most self-explanatory, in my opinion. seriously, what is he supposed to do against 15 fingers worth of sukuna? i love megumi, and i will argue up and down that he’s very strong, and severely underestimated by the fandom, but against 15 fingers of sukuna? maki and yuuji, who are both around the same level as megumi in terms of strength, couldn’t take down 15 finger sukuna TOGETHER. megumi alone doesn’t stand a chance.

again, it comes back to his sense of responsibility. he was the one who saved yuuji, and allowed this to happen. it’s why he says “it’s our fault,” to yuuji. so he takes responsibility for taking sukuna down.

ultimately, megumi’s use of mahoraga is incredibly strategic. he only pulls it out in situations where he absolutely has no other options. it’s also an extension of his sense of responsibility, in many cases, particularly regarding sukuna. he was the one who saved yuuji, so he has to be the one to take down sukuna. finally, he doesn’t want to lose. he says that before the kyoto goodwill event, but i think he meant it as an overall statement. if he dies, he will be taking his opponent with him.

megumi is not trigger happy. he’s not a loose cannon. he’s not reckless with his life. he makes calculated moves that align with his goals and motivations.

[caitified]

baby fever 🐣

sabrina ionescu x reader

warnings: talk of ivf ish

part 2 here

after the buzzer rang, signaling another liberty win, you watched sabrina walk off the court, her usual focused expression replaced with that easy smile she saved for post-game moments.

you had been dating for a few years now, engaged for a few months, and every time you saw her on the court, it still filled you with pride. but tonight, something else was catching your attention.

as the players started winding down, you noticed sabrina make her way over to the minnesota lynx bench, where napheesa stood with her daughter, mila, perched on her hip. you smiled at the sight, watching as sabrina’s face lit up when mila reached out for her. sabrina took the little girl into her arms without hesitation, easily switching into a softer, playful version of herself.

“hey, mila,” sabrina cooed, bouncing the toddler gently.

you walked over, standing just off to the side as sabrina spun mila around, her joy infectious. napheesa chuckled, watching her daughter have the time of her life in sabrina’s arms. “you’re gonna have to babysit sometime, you know,” napheesa joked.

sabrina grinned. “anytime. mila’s too cute to say no to.”

you stood there, watching them interact, your heart doing little flips. seeing sabrina like this—so gentle and patient with mila, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she made silly faces to keep the girl laughing—made something stir inside you.

baby fever.

it wasn’t the first time the thought had crossed your mind, but tonight, it hit you harder than usual. you and Sabrina had talked about the future, about building a life together. and now, seeing her with mila, the idea of having a family with her felt so real, so close. you could imagine her holding your own child with the same ease, the same love and care.

sabrina caught your eye then, her expression softening even more when she saw you watching her. “hey, babe,” she called, beckoning you over with a nod of her head. “come meet my friend.”

you walked over, smiling as mila reached out toward you. sabrina handed her over, your hands carefully supporting the little girl as she settled into your arms.

“isn’t she the cutest?” sabrina said, stepping closer and resting her arm around your waist.

“she really is,” you agreed, glancing down at mila, who was busy examining your face with wide eyes.

sabrina leaned in, her voice a little lower. “you’re a natural with her, you know that?”

you felt your chest tighten in the best way. “you’re pretty great with her yourself,” you murmured back, meeting her eyes. there was something unspoken between you in that moment, a shared understanding of where your thoughts were headed.

as napheesa came to collect mila, sabrina squeezed your waist, pulling you close as you watched them walk away. you turned toward her, smiling softly. “so… you’re good with kids, huh?”

sabrina shrugged, but her smile told you everything. “i’ve had practice with mila,” she said, her eyes flicking up to yours. “why? you thinking about something?”

you couldn’t help but grin, your heart racing a little. “maybe.”

sabrina raised an eyebrow, her smile turning into that teasing grin you loved so much. “yeah? you thinking what I’m thinking?”

you took a deep breath, leaning into her, your forehead resting against hers. “i think… i’m ready to talk about it. you and me… maybe a little one someday.”

sabrina’s eyes softened, and she kissed your temple gently. “someday sounds pretty perfect.”

guys i really want to write part 2 where they have a baby lmk what you think

[novasintheroom]

123. Desire

♡ Pairing - Vash x Reader

♡ Word count - 1.4k

♡ Warnings - none

♡ Description: Vash slowly realizes that he wants to be yours.

Part of the 150 Bullets drabble series on AO3 (will post there and add link once AO3 is back up)

It comes up first one hot day in the town of Gargantan.

The bag of doughnuts crinkles in your grip as you weave through the morning bustle, heading toward the column of red at the end of the street. Vash knows he’s in trouble as soon as he smells it. You walk up to him, already giving a strange look. “What’s did you get?” You ask.

Vash laughs nervously. He keeps the two bags of doughnuts he already bought behind his back. “Just some bullets!”

You sniff the air. Lean forward and brush his cheeks with your fingertips. It comes away with powdered sugar. “Vash, did you get more doughnuts?”

He feels his stomach clench with guilt and hunger. Looking down, he gives a sheepish smile. “I just…wanted to try that other shop too.”

“Vash,” your mouth works, words forming and dissolving as you think of what to say. You’re fighting a smile. “We agreed we only had enough fun money for one bag of doughnuts.”

“I know.”

“We have three bags of doughnuts now, birdie.”

“I know,” he says again. He pouts, wondering what got into him. He’s usually much better about his money, but, lately, being with you…he feels…he doesn’t know. Like it’s okay to get food again. Even if it hurts the wallet a bit. “Hey, we don’t have to split a doughnut now, though! Look,” he pulls out a chocolate glazed doughnut, then another. “Two for one! BOGO!”

“You’re such a problem,” you groan.

He knows you’re joking. He knows. But something inside him shudders, and he wants to fix it. Make you feel better after his mistake. “Well, I’m your problem.” He says it as a joke. Tests the waters. See if there’s blood in them.

Your smile is genuine as you punch him in the shoulder, hitting the plating of his arm. “Yeah, you are. Heaven help me, but you are. Now give me a doughnut.”

The stirring of crickets in his stomach is the only warning he has of what’s to come. Your problem, he smiles, handing you a jelly-filled doughnut and eating his second with you. He likes the sound of that.

--

He toys with the idea. Handles it around and around in his head like a child with a very delicate antique, so clumsy with his hands but knowing how special it is.

It comes up again.

Nothing goes right all day, and by the end of it, you’re both tired and in a bad mood. Camping out in a buried, derelict ship is the last thing either of you want right now, but the ghost stories will keep the locals away. You set up your sleeping gear nearby. No fire tonight; there’s too many eyes searching for you two.

Vash can feel the breeze blowing through the holes of the ship. Cool, cool air that will turn to ice once the suns fully set. He looks over at you and sees the goosebumps rising on your arms, eyes picking out each individual hair standing on end. Vash chews the inside of his cheek. “Wanna sleep closer?”

It takes a moment for you to register he’s talking. Blinking, you look up. “Hm? What?”

 “Do you want to sleep closer tonight? For warmth, I mean.”

Your eyes flit across his face. You’ve always been a fan of your personal space. Vash isn’t sure you’ll accept. Then, you shrug. “Sure. Why not.”

The day must have really taken it out of you for you to say ‘yes,’ but Vash isn’t complaining. You drag your stuff over to his and set up sluggishly. “I’m mad about what that mayor said to you on the way out,” you say, baring your feelings like you do, always an open book. “He shouldn’t have called you that. Especially after we saved his daughter.”

He doesn’t feel like talking about it, a fresh wound on his heart that will heal anyway. So he hums and lays down. “I’m just glad we got away before they pulled out the whips. That was…weird.”

You laugh and scoot over to his side, and Vash can feel your warmth. “You think they’re into the freaky stuff?”

He laughs with you and shakes his head. He’s about to respond when you curl up next to him and place your head on his shoulder. Mouth drying out, a strange feeling in the back of his throat forms. You press your side shyly closer into his.

“You don’t mind being my pillow for tonight, right?” You mumble it, and he can hear the embarrassment in your tone. This is hard for you.

He clears his throat and says, “Nah, it’s fine. I’m all yours.”

It goes quiet, and Vash wonders if he said the wrong thing. But then your breathing evens out, and he realizes you’re asleep. The day really took it out of you, then. Carefully, he brings his arm around your shoulders and pulls you closer. He doesn’t want you getting cold. “Yeah,” he mumbles, “all yours.”

--

What exactly is it that he wants?

You ask him this on the road. The suns are cresting some cliffs to the side, fall season turning the temperatures just a bit cooler – only just. And he says, “For love and peace to rule.” Typical.

“But what do you want? When love and peace is achieved and everyone’s happy?” You walk ahead of him, minding your steps, toeing an invisible line, kicking pebbles off to the side. “What do you want to be?”

He watches. Your figure curves as you bend over to pick up a white rock, throwing it up in the air and catching it again. You handle it, looking at the tiny crystals within that make it sparkle in the light. A habit of yours, he’s noticed – how you handle everything and everyone carefully, twisting them this way and that to find their hidden facets. You do it with him all the time. You’re doing it now, digging into his psyche, making him wonder about his own desires and wants. His eyes trace the shape of your lips as they purse.

Vash shakes out of his stupor when you glance at him, waiting for an answer. “I’ll probably be some kind of Plant engineer. Keep my sisters safe and healthy.” After all, what else is there for someone like him?

“Do you want to be an artist? An historian? You can’t just be an engineer all the time. What else do you want to be?”

His lips curve up. “I’ll still be with you, right? You’ve got the historian and artist bit down for the both of us.”

You groan and throw the rock away. The sands eat it up instantly, lost once again to the dunes of time. “Without leaning on me, Vash.” You look at him, eyes roving over his face for something he isn’t sure of. “When everything else is stripped away and accomplished, what do you want to be?”

Something in his chest erupts into butterflies. He knows the answer, cheesy as it is. Yours, yours, yours, his heart murmurs. I want to be yours.

--

It comes out in the quiet hours of the night, between dusk and midnight.

Your kisses are slow, sensual. He can’t get enough. The soft sand underneath, the cave overhead, the glow of worms in the distant sky through the mouth. You’re safe. He’s safe. His hands rove your sides, traveling under your shirt to massage the tender skin at your ribs. Your own hands travel from his neck to his stomach, back to his hair, feeling, feeling.

In a pause, a way to catch your breath, you look up at him in the blue gloom and grin. Your eyes are so full of love, twinkling like close stars. “Vash,” you murmur, petting your hand through his hair, tugging at the ends, his growing undercut. Your chests heave together, touching then retracting. Your nails scratch gently behind his ear, and goosebumps hike up his neck. “My Vash.”

It sends a shiver up and down his spine. Yes, this is what it is; this is what he has been searching for. And he should say something like ‘my mayfly,’ but what tumbles out of his kiss-swollen lips is, “Your Vash. Yours.”

Your laugh is deep and happy. He surges forward to catch it, feel it in his mouth as he kisses you again and again. “Yours,” he keeps murmuring, settling it in his own head, his own heart. “All yours. I’m yours.”

This is what he wants to be.

A place to belong. A place in your arms.

Yours.

[ma1dita]

crazy little thing

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader prev -> bedtime stories | next -> anything you want words: 3.4k summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where he spends all his drachmas to make you smile. Sometimes, the Apollo kids are better matchmakers than Aphrodite herself. Everyone’s tired of you two dancing around each other. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader a/n: lil valentines day special though im working on more est. relationship fluff after this!! happy season 2 renewal babies (posted 2/9/24 unbetaed)

—

“Come on, you gotta admit—it’s kinda funny!” 

Luke is met with blank stares at the camp store after he places a few drachmas onto the folding table in front of the Apollo kids. They’re not sure if he’s trying to convince them, or himself.

Because yeah, that’s the excuse he goes for, wanting to spend his savings on having them sing to a certain head counselor instead of admitting his blatantly obvious feelings, so if you ask Lee Fletcher and his half-siblings, it’s kind of pathetic.

“What do we look like, a traveling mariachi band, Castellan?” he deadpans, watching the usually confident boy scratch the back of his neck with his face red like someone who’s been sitting out in the sun for too long. 

“I’m not saying to follow her around all day or whatever, just pick a random time to sing a song and catch her off-guard,” he insists, before meeting the judgmental look of one of Lee’s younger siblings.

Lee chuckles, ruffling his sister’s hair before looking at Luke quite seriously, “She’s a good friend. You’re gonna have to pay us more than that. Special song for a special lady after all.”

The son of Hermes knows he’s gonna regret this sooner or later, but proceeds to throw the rest of his meager earnings onto the table. He has other ways of being resourceful anyway, the box of chocolates he nicked from behind the store counter feeling heavy in his jacket pocket.

“Right… she’s just a friend.”

Luke’s hands fidget at his sides as he stands there, feeling a little stupid.

Lee’s little sister scoops up the coins from the table, her raised eyebrows and light aura mirroring that of her older brother. 

“What song were you thinking?” she asks, “Gotta make sure I know it if I’m singing it to your…friend.”

The 18-year-old boy tugs at his dark curls, getting more embarrassed and wanting to retreat with every minute that passes, but he’s never been one to back down from anything–swordfights, monsters, capture the flag, but this—trying to impress you...is a whole different story somehow.

Why are feelings so damn complicated? 

It feels like being at the butt of a joke, or more accurately—at the sharp edge of a sword, and Luke never lets his fights end in a draw.

“You guys got it covered. Just…surprise me too, I guess,” he sighs, walking off without finishing his sentence. He wishes he could pray a little harder to his dad for luck, even if he’s unsure of what exactly he’s wishing for (or if his dad will even listen).

“Castellan’s hopeless. You think he knows it yet?” the girl asks her brother, to which Lee laughs.

“I don’t think she does either, even though everyone else can see right through them. The new bets are on who’s gonna break first. Chiron’s been keeping track, but don’t tell Mr. D.”

If Luke wants a show, they’ll make sure he’ll get his money’s worth—and hopefully, it’ll push you two along faster. Lee bet on you two getting together before the summer after all, and he’ll be damned if he loses to Clarisse.

—

Valentine’s Day might be the day of love, but for you, someone who’s single (not by choice), and heavily busy with making sure people aren’t so…enamored in public (you’ve lost count of the reports you’ve written out due to indecent behavior this morning alone)---this just feels like another Wednesday, except with more hormonal teenagers with uncontrollable urges than usual. 

Oh, the joys of being the daughter of the camp director, also known as everyone’s favorite narc.

Honestly, love can suck it. With this much love in the air, you can feel it suffocating you like a plastic bag over your head. 

That’s an uncontrollable urge. Too much?

Maybe Silena was right, you do need to open yourself up more to romantic opportunities. But if you have to watch another person swap spit and get pawed at like they’re the last dinner roll at the table…. You might commit arson and set this place ablaze.

You just didn’t understand why people had to go all out today of all days. Shouldn’t love be shown year-round? Though you were a person of theatrics and enjoy a good show, it is amazing how much grandiose displays of affection make you cringe. It felt very performative, instead of genuine, and you would know, you’re the best actress at camp. You’ve acted out stories before, knowing all of the greatest romances and tragedies by heart. And you pride yourself on being a decent teacher to the campers, but for some of them, love still translates to a bad rendition of a ballad they heard on the radio.

Nothing gets past you at this point.

But that sucks too sometimes, you know?

Multiple failed flings and a heartbreak or two weigh down on you on days like this one, as you’re stuck being a bystander to outlandish displays put on by the Aphrodite kids being put to work. Love is their domain anyway, and yours…makes you feel a little less undesirable. Each demigod has their own strengths and weaknesses, but perhaps in the name of love, some of them don’t know how to take a hint. Several forgettable prose readings, a Sparknotes version of Eros and Psyche, and too many red roses to count have you reeling from exhaustion and a bit of disgust—-and it’s only lunchtime. 

So yeah, maybe you’re a little jealous; they could call you Nemesis at this point.

The only flowers you got today were from the little kids from along the path to the strawberry orchard, and though it’s sweet—the human side of you misses affection. 

Devotion. 

To be a daughter of Dionysus meant to deal in extremes, obsession or nothing, and there are very few people who can handle that. Always being too much to handle, or uninterested as a defense mechanism. Perhaps that’s what scares admirers away. 

That, or the fact that Luke Castellan is always attached to your hip. To be honest, you’ve always preferred it that way—the both of you working as a pair always gets things done faster around camp and he brightens your mood, whether you admit it or not. 

But you two are just friends. 

Really good friends who look for each other in crowded rooms, hands constantly brushing against the other for comfort, and able to pick up where the other one leaves off. Usually he’s the first person you see in the morning, and the last person you say goodnight to. You know how he likes his coffee and he cuts your apples for you as you two sit together in your unassigned seats in the dining pavilion. You watch each other’s workshops and if one of you is missing, everyone knows to ask the other to get an answer.

Right? That’s totally normal coworker/friend behavior.

If you were ever given immortality, perhaps they’d make you the goddess of denial.

You’re sweeping up confetti from the dining hall floor after an uncoordinated excuse of a flash mob was performed for one of the Demeter kids… and not to sound like a heinous bitch, but maybe next time they should use something biodegradable… or less messy. Sighing deeply, you feel someone’s eyes on you, and when you look up, Luke’s standing there with two full plates of food.

“Take a break, Trouble. No one’s paying you overtime,” he jokes, and you roll your eyes as you put the broom aside.

“No one’s paying me at all…” you groan, before taking the plate out of his hands and knocking your head against his shoulder in thanks. He snickers as his hand brushes the small of your back, tickling your spine as he leads you to sit at a table.

“Just another holiday. You know how it is.”

“It’d be nice to have a night off though. Sometimes I regret taking up the position,” you mumble through spoonfuls of soup. He throws his large hand over your shoulder, kneading some tension from your trapezius. Head jerking along with the movements, you giggle as soup dribbles off your spoon, which makes his lips quirk into a small smile. Being around you felt so thoughtless and easy that if you told him to jump off a bridge he’d do it without question, which should be more concerning—the hold you have on him is irrevocable. Feelings are way too difficult for his teenage brain to comprehend at this stage. It’s easier to wash dishes with lava or fight off a dragon (bad example, he knows, but there’s something about you that already makes him feel like he’s losing before anything’s even happened).

Luke is someone who fights until the end, a soldier who’s always trained and so ready for anything that sometimes it makes you wonder what war he’s preparing for. Infatuation, or the scarier, four-letter word was not something he was ever briefed on.

“No, you don’t. You’re a control freak,” he says with a grin. 

Luke watches you play with the pendant on your necklace, the dragon scale he fashioned into your favorite accessory glinting in your hand. Running your fingers back and forth over the smooth surface, your other hand puts the spoon down and you place your head on his shoulder. He thinks if he had to describe the four-letter word on the tip of his tongue, he’d tell whoever’s asking about the way you kissed his healing cheek after you both left the Garden of Hesperides. More than a year later, Luke is still unable to find the right words even if the weakness has made a home in his heart with your name written all over it.

“I swear if I have to hear another person croak out a lovesong I might just drown myself in the Long Island Sound,” you scoff as his fingers trace circles onto your waist.

There’s a low strum of a guitar that reaches your ears and your forehead meets the cool surface of the table as you shut your eyes and grumble. It’s Lee and his half-siblings, beginning to walk through the hall seconds away from singing until they see Luke shaking his head and dragging his finger across his throat to please, gods, stop. The Apollo kids swivel and 180, walking out of the hall as the music stops dissonantly, rolling their eyes and dragging their feet.

“That was quick,” you say inquisitively as your head pops up from the table to see Luke looking off in the distance.

“Heh… I think they were just practicing or something…”

He then had to run off and pay them more drachmas for the inconvenience. 

Fucking hustlers.

—

The sun sets quickly on Camp Half-Blood since it’s mid-February, and Luke finds you trying to calm your nerves as you look at the mess of glitter and paper mache that covers the arts and crafts hall from floor to ceiling.

“I can’t believe this!” you say in disbelief as you look at Luke, and he takes the can of Redbull out of your shaking hand.  

“There’s just no fucking way everyone decided to use glitter. It’s everywhere! I’m—CONNOR, PUT THE SCISSORS DOWN!”

Luke sighs as he holds his hand out for his younger brother to give up the craft scissors, which he relinquishes with a mischievous grin. 

“Guys, go find trouble somewhere else,” Luke mutters, pushing his head away, and where Connor goes, Travis quickly follows, tossing a canister of glitter back at him and not knowing it was still open.

“Oops.” 

Immediately, the both of you are showered in iridescent particles, floating over your heads and stuck in your hair as the older Stoll brother looks at the two of you wide-eyed.

“You've already got Trouble anyway,” he says teasingly, and this asshole winks at Luke before bolting out the door.

The room is silent now, and you pinch the bridge of your nose, before speaking, “I don’t care if he’s your brother, Luke. I might just fucking kill him.” You'd say more but your eyes are shut as you try not to breathe in glitter, and then the sound of the doorknob rattling catches your attention. Luke is standing there, finally faced with a door he can’t open, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance–but the effect isn’t as menacing as it should be when he’s covered in red and pink sparkles.

“Not if I get to him first, the little bastard.”

“Just open the door,” you say panicked, running over and forcing his hands off the doorknob.

“I can’t if you won’t let me do it!” He grits, elbowing you and trying to unlock the door with both his inherited gift and brute strength.

“What kind of demigod even are you? Lockpicking is supposed to be your thing!”

“Well OBVIOUSLY, but it’s not working, now is it, Trouble?”

Luke finishes off the rest of your energy drink before throwing the can over his shoulder and he swears he can hear you cuss at him under your breath as you berate him about the mess, so he chooses to focus on busting the door down instead of looking at the glitter stuck in your eyelashes and thinking about how the idea of being stuck in a room with you makes him feel weak at the knees.

Through the window, his eyes meet the group of Apollo kids staring at the predicament you two are in (and the barricade of chairs the Stolls put in front of the door). He sighs, and Lee’s little sister flips him off as they start to walk away again, instruments in tow.

“You gonna charge him again?”

A tiny Will Solace looks at his elders for guidance as they walk along the path. As one of the youngest in the bunch, he especially idolizes anything his half-siblings do, going along with whatever they see fit.

“No, but we’re close enough to the archery range that I might just shoot them through their hearts myself. Eros and Aphrodite themselves are pretty much begging us to,” Lee grumbles.

“Why are we doing this again?” Will babbles, and his half-sister grabs his hand to help him walk faster.

“A crazy little thing called love. You’ll understand it better someday, kid.”

—

Thankfully, it all starts winding down after dinner. Luke finds you leaning against a tree flipping through your clipboard during the camp sing-along, so he tugs at your elbow to get your attention.

“Wanna get out of here?”

You look at him, slotting your pen behind your ear as you notice faint glitter particles still dotted along his cheeks. As your lips pull into a small smile, you say, "I still have a few things to do after this, don't you?"

"Cleared your schedule for the night," he mumbles, and whether it's the glow of the bonfire or he's actually blushing, a teasing expression crosses your face as you step closer and cross your arms at him.

"You cleared my schedule for the night. How on earth did you do that?"

Instead of a proper reply, he grabs your hand, tugging you out to the docks near the lake.

"Don't worry about it."

He's not going to tell you that he owes Chris and Annie a few favors before the end of the month to make up for the night shift they ended up taking. Instead, you both sit cross-legged at the edge of the dock, a gentle breeze brushing at your clothes and for the first time today, you're able to just exist.

"I hate Valentine's Day," you suddenly say, looking up at the night sky, and he's watching you closely as the gentle shine of the moon casts a cool glow on your face. Luke cringes at your statement, thinking he's already thrown away his shot.

"Why's that?"

"Tell me something Luke, am I unlikable? Like, is there anything wrong with me?"

He looks at you like you've told him you’re secretly a cyclops.

“The fuck? How many times do I have to tell you that everyone thinks you’re great?"

You don't even give him a chance to finish his sentence before you blurt, "I don’t want to be great, I want to be loved!" Reeling back a little, you lean back on your hands to create some distance.

 “Sorry... that was a lot, and I’m just...wanting to be noticed. It's nice to have people's attention sometimes, you know?”

You’ve got all of mine, he thinks, realizing he never stood a chance at fighting it—this four-letter feeling you give him is the first and only battle he’ll back down from, and you're the only person he’ll wholeheartedly surrender to.

In short, he’s fucked.

"I always notice you." He pulls out a dented box of chocolates from his jacket pocket, opening it up for the both of you to share, and the look of amusement on your face makes him glad that at least one thing somewhat went to plan today, even if the chocolate truffles are a bit smushed. You’re popping one into your mouth and his dark eyes follow the trail of your fingers to your mouth, feeling his heart beat a bit faster.

But then you both hear the soft strum of a guitar from near the trees, and the two of you turn to hear some of the Apollo kids singing beautifully along the coastline.

I'll be seeing you, in all the old, familiar places... That this heart of mine embraces...

You gasp, grabbing Luke’s arm to push yourself up so that the both of you can turn and face a small group of your closest Apollo friends singing to the both of you. Luke’s eyes soften further when he feels you grab his hand and squeeze, leaning against his shoulder as you listen.

“Did you do this?” you mumble, still entranced by the performance.

“Only if it makes you laugh.”

And you do, in the way that he loves—a bit crazy and too loud, and it’s perfect.

I’ll always think of you that way… I’ll find you in the morning sun….

Whether it’s fireflies or Will bouncing light off the water to look like small, glowing candles, Luke can’t tell—he’s too busy watching your lips pull into a smile so confectionery his sweet tooth starts to ache. The little kid was never good at archery like his other half-siblings, but as your eyes shimmer under the ambient lights, you think his added romantic gesture shot you straight through the heart.

“You know, sometimes I really do hate you, Luke Castellan,” you whisper, and it couldn’t be more far from the truth.

“No, you don’t.”

His eyes flicker to you again, but you’re already looking back at him.

“I don’t.”

And when the night is new, I’ll be looking at the moon… but I’ll be seeing you…

It’s quiet now, and you’re unsure of where the Apollonian ensemble disappeared to but instead of worrying about if they’ll make it back before curfew, you stand there in front of Luke with your guard down.

Getting a little closer than he expected, your noses brush before you pull the slightly crushed wildflowers from your jean pocket, the only physical reminder you’ve kept from today, and tuck them into his jacket pocket, sitting right above his heart. 

“Thank you.”

Luke doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until he feels your lips gently kiss the marred skin on his right cheek, the blemish having an uncanny resemblance to a stroke of lightning; it serves as a reminder of his weakness. The lines blur as his eyes close to savor it and he doesn’t know if weakness is your kisses or his scar—but he is vulnerable to it all the same, realizing there’s a crack in the otherwise perfect persona that he’s worked so hard on.

When his eyes open again, his Achilles’ heel has taken human form.

—

“This has got to be cheating,” Clarisse grumbles as she watches from the distance, hidden behind the trees.

“It’s not cheating if I’m winning. Silena’s gonna get a kick out of this,” Lee chuckles, ushering everyone back towards the cabins. It’s a bit harder to do this in the dark as they try to be quiet and not interrupt whatever will happen next between their favorite counselors.

“Well lucky for you, your gifts are cute and romantic, what am I supposed to do? They fight enough!”

“That’s what got them into this mess in the first place. Come on, curfew’s in 10. We’ll find out which of us wins the bet soon enough,” Chris mutters, pushing them along back onto the main path.

“Easy for you to say, Rodriguez, you live with Luke!”

“Would I ever lie to you, La Rue?” he says with a mischievous grin, and the Apollo kids giggle at the irony.

—

“My body ages,

my anger burns into a seam.

I am so annoyed by love

and still it comes.”

-Kate Baer

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[alessiasfreckles]

too in love to think straight

Alessia always thought she was straight, until y/n joined the team. Y/n has a crush on Alessia, but is far too shy to do anything about it. Their meddling teammates decide to help them out.

warnings: none!

A/N: based off this prompt! longest fic yet at almost 4k words, so thank you for the prompt, it definitely helped the writer's block!

------

Alessia Russo was straight. Straight as a ruler. Sometimes her teammates joked about it, teasing her for being a heterosexual female footballer, one of a kind. She had never let the jokes they made get to her, always brushing them off, not even giving them a second thought. After all, she was straight, wasn’t she?

She watched you in training, sometimes. Not in a creepy way or anything, just in a… ‘wanting to know more about you’ way. Alessia was fascinated by you, even if she couldn’t quite explain why. You had joined the team a month ago and had already earned a reputation for being extremely shy and quiet. Sometimes your teammates would place bets on who could get you to say more than a single sentence that day, which you didn’t mind, really. You knew they weren’t doing it to be mean, and that they’d stop if you asked. Despite how shy you were, you’d already found your place in the team and felt comfortable there. The girls were your friends, even if you didn’t talk much. 

You were warming up in training, your hand on Steph’s shoulder as you swung your leg back and forth, when she said something that made you start giggling. The sound nearly made Alessia trip over her own feet, and when she looked up to see you grinning at Steph, she felt something flutter in her stomach.

That was normal, right? That was a thing that happened to straight people? She just really wanted to be friends with you, that was all. Right?

As the days went by, she started making an effort to talk to you more. She would coincidentally finish getting changed at the same time as you, meaning the two of you ended up walking together quite often. 

“So, um, how are you settling in?” she asked the first time it happened. 

“Good,” you said, smiling shyly. 

“That’s good! I settled in pretty quickly too, the girls are so nice and welcoming here, you know? I had been worried when I moved that it was going to take me ages to feel at home, but now it feels like I’ve been here forever!” she rambled, and then laughed awkwardly. “Oh, sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“No, it’s okay,” you glanced up at her and gave her another smile, blushing slightly, and she smiled back. 

From then on, she found herself thinking about your smile a lot. She would look for you during training, hoping to catch a glimpse of it. It was even better when it was directed at her. 

----

“So we can all agree that Lessi definitely has a thing for y/n, right?” Steph said in the changing room to the few teammates that were still getting ready after the two of you had (completely coincidentally, of course) left at the same time once again. 

“Wait, I thought she was straight?” Kyra asked.

“Nah, y/n’s gay,” Jen piped up. “I mean, she doesn’t really talk about it much, but she posts about pride month on instagram and stuff, and we talked about what going to pride for the first time was like a couple weeks ago.”

“No, I know y/n is gay,” Kyra said, exasperated. “I meant Lessi. She’s like, the token straight in the team.”

“Yeah, I have a feeling that our token straight isn’t as straight as we thought. Or as she thought, for that matter,” Steph grinned. “Have you seen the way she follows y/n around? Like a lovesick puppy.”

“Maybe someone should try and find out if y/n feels the same way,” Jen suggested, a sly look on her face. “Ky, you should do it.”

“What?! No way,” Steph laughed. “Ky can’t keep her mouth shut to save her life.”

“Hey!” the younger Australian protested. “Actually, yeah she’s right. I would definitely just ask her outright if she’s interested in Less. Kinda get the feeling that we might need subtlety to get that kind of info out of her.”

Just then, Viv walked back into the changing room. “What are you guys doing in here? Come on, we’re all waiting for you.”

“Viv!” Steph exclaimed. “You’d be perfect for our plan!”

“What plan?” she asked, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.

“Okay, so you’ve noticed how Less has a crush on y/n, too, right?” Jen said, grinning. “Well, we want to find out if the feeling is mutual. But, you know, since y/n’s so shy we figured that just asking outright isn’t the right approach. So…. that’s where you come in!”

“Really, guys?” Viv said, looking unimpressed. “That’s their business.”

“Oh, come on, Viv,” Steph pleaded. “Look, we all know there’s no way y/n would make any moves herself, and Less probably hasn’t even realised she likes her yet.”

Viv sighed. “I guess you have a point. But I’m not going to push her, okay? If she doesn’t want to tell me, that’s fine.”

“Oooh, this is so exciting!” Kyra squealed, clapping her hands. “Oh, but remember to be subtle!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Viv said, rolling her eyes. “Now come on, everyone’s waiting.”

----

“So, um, you’re very much straight, right?” Alessia asked Ella as they had one of their weekly facetime calls. 

“Ha, yeah, unfortunately,” Ella grinned. “Why, you interested?”

“Yeah, yeah, very funny,” the blonde rolled her eyes. “As, y’know, a straight person, would you say it’s normal to, um, think about another girl? A lot?”

“Right, tell me everything,” Ella said, getting comfy. “Who is it?”

Alessia groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Y/n. The newbie?”

“Aw, yeah, she’s cute!” 

“Okay, so you think she’s cute too! So, it’s a perfectly normal thing to think about someone, isn’t it?” 

“Well, that depends,” Ella said with a grin. “Do you think she’s cute in a completely platonic way or in a ‘she’s cute and i want to kiss her and have sex and get married and have babies’ way?”

“Oh my god, Ella!” Alessia groaned again.

Ella laughed. “Okay, so it’s the second one.”

“I don’t know, maybe?” the blonde blushed at the thought, but had to admit to herself that it wasn’t the first time she’d thought about kissing you. “So, it’s not something straight people think about?”

“Nope,” Ella smirked. 

Okay, so maybe Alessia was as straight as one of those bendy rulers the cool kids had in high school.

“Ugh, what do I do?” she asked.

“I mean, you don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,” Ella said gently. “Like, about maybe not being straight, or about y/n.”

“Okay but,” Alessia started, then sighed. “Yeah, I don’t know if I want to do anything about the maybe not being straight bit. But, the y/n bit, I just, I don’t know! She’s just really fucking cute and like, really shy but when she does talk you can tell that she’s really smart and observant, and she has the cutest laugh, oh my god, the first time I heard it I nearly fell over, and I just want to be the one to make her laugh, you know? And like, I want to get to know her better. I want to know what she does when she gets home from training, what her favourite TV show is, what her family is like.”

“Well,” her best friend said. “Kind of seems like you do know what you want to do about y/n. You want to get to know her and make her laugh. Those seem like very achievable goals!”

“Yeah, I suppose,” the blonde said, frowning. Those were pretty achievable goals, actually. And technically she wouldn’t even be doing anything about her… well, her crush. She would just be getting to know her teammate. “Yeah. Thanks, Ella.”

“Anytime!” Ella said with a wide grin. “But as soon as this goes anywhere, I want to be the first to know, okay?”

Alessia let out a laugh, feeling much better after having talked to the brunette. “Deal.”

-------

A few days later, you were walking on the treadmill in the gym when Viv joined the treadmill next to you. You smiled at her, not thinking much of it, and when she gestured for you to take your headphones out you did. 

“Shit, sorry, I hate it when people try talking to me when I have headphones in,” she cringed, laughing sheepishly.

“It’s fine,” you said with a small smile. You liked Viv. She was quiet too, but more confident than you were. 

“I just wanted to check in, see how you were feeling. You’ve been here for what, 5, 6 weeks now?”

“5 weeks today,” you said, and she nodded. “I’m feeling good. I really like it here. Everyone has been really welcoming.”

She smiled, and it was genuine. She really did want to know if you were settling in okay. “That’s great! I’m happy to hear that. Beth will be too.”

“You two really are the mums of the team,” you teased softly.

“Ha, yeah, people say that a lot,” Viv said with a laugh. The two of you jogged quietly for a minute before she spoke up again. “So, I noticed you and Lessi have been hanging out a lot lately.”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you said, blush quickly rising your cheeks. “She’s, um, really nice.”

“She’s pretty new here, too,” the older player said offhandedly, glancing over at you. “Maybe she can show you some good spots in the area?”

“Yeah, that’d be nice,” you said, feeling your cheeks burn as you looked down at the treadmill, not wanting to meet Viv’s eye.

“I’m glad you’re making friends here, y/n,” Viv said with a kind smile, and you nodded.

-------

“Okay, yeah, she has a crush on Less,” Viv announced to the girls in the changing room. It was the same group as before, Kyra, Steph and Jen, plus Katie, Leah, and Beth, who had gotten involved now too. 

“Oh my god, that’s so cute!” Steph gushed. “Wait, did she tell you that? Just like that?”

“No, of course not,” Viv said, rolling her eyes. “But trust me, okay? She likes her.”

“Alright,” Steph said, happy to believe her. “So, what’s the next step?”

“Guys, come on, you can’t meddle in this!” Leah said, standing up. “They have to figure it out for themselves!” 

“Aw, come on, Lee,” Katie said with a grin. “Surely a little push is okay? After all, there’s no way y/n is gonna do anything about it. And we’re still not sure Less even knows she likes her.”

Leah stood there for a minute, arms crossed, before sighing. “Fine, a little meddling is okay. But nothing big, alright?”

The girls grinned excitedly and got to planning.

-----

Jonas clapped his hands, getting everyone’s attention. 

“Okay, ladies, I want you to partner up for this next one!” 

The team was close enough that things like this didn’t make you feel the same dread that it did in P.E. in high school. Partnering up now meant partnering up with any of your friends, not waiting anxiously to see if you were chosen. Still, you waited to see if anyone did choose you. 

Alessia sidled up to you with a smile. “Hey,” she said.

“Hi,” you replied, smiling back.

Behind your back, Steph and Katie shot each other a knowing look and a grin. 

“I meant to tell you, you played really well on Sunday,” the blonde said with pink cheeks. You weren’t sure if it was from the cold air or if she was blushing. 

“Oh, thank you!” you ducked your head, blushing a little. “So did you.”

“Thanks,” she smiled. “So, um, did you have a nice weekend? Aside from the game, I mean.”

You nodded. “Yeah, it was good. I just stayed home and relaxed.”

“Yeah? What did you get up to?” she asked, eager to know more about you, but realised she might be pushing. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry-

“It’s okay,” you said, cutting her off and placing a hand on her arm, and she blushed at the gesture. “I didn’t really get up to much, to be honest. I watched some TV, read a bit, did some puzzles, baked a little. And the boring stuff, like doing some washing, cleaning. But I guess the other stuff is kind of boring too.” 

“No, it’s not! It’s interesting! I like learning about you,” she said quickly, then blushed deeper pink. “Um, what kind of puzzles? Like, jigsaw puzzles?”

You laughed gently. “Oh, no, like, um, puzzle books? Things like sudoku, crosswords, that kind of thing. It’s my guilty pleasure,” you admitted.

“Wow, so you’re smart, then,” she teased with a laugh. 

“Girls! Less chatting, more moving!” Jonas shouted across the field at the two of you.

“Oops,” Alessia said, grinning. “I guess he has a point.”

As you were walking back to the changing rooms after training, Jen came up from behind, clapping both of you on the back.

“Right girls, monthly movie night on Friday,” she said. “You in?”

You waited a beat to see Alessia’s reaction, before nodding.

“Great! Less, we good to do it at your place?” 

The blonde rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “Do I really have a choice?”

“Nope,” Jen said with a grin. “Thanks, Less!”

She ran off, yelling to Katie that movie night was good to go, and Alessia laughed. “I’m not sure why they’ve picked my place,” she said, shrugging. “Personally I think Beth and Viv’s place is the best for movie nights. Plus, any excuse to see Myle, right?”

You nodded, smiling. You’d gone to one movie night at Beth and Viv’s place, a couple weeks after you joined the club. You’d been in awe of how close knit the team was, wanting to be a part of it, but not sure how. You hadn’t really said much that time, opting to sit on the corner of the sofa, watching everyone else around you.

“You’ll come too, right?” Alessia asked, her voice hopeful, and you felt your heart skip when you realised she was hoping that you would come, hoping you’d be at her place. 

“Yeah!” you said, trying not to sound too eager. 

“Good!” she said, sounding relieved. 

For the next few days, you couldn’t stop thinking about the upcoming movie night. You knew it wasn’t a big deal, really. After all, it was a bigger group of the girls that were going to be there, not just the two of you. Still, that alone was a scary thought. You preferred your own company, or the company of just a few people rather than a big group. 

Despite knowing that the evening was in no way a special occasion, you decided to dress a little nicer than you normally would for a night in (meaning you wore the slightly nicer leggings rather than the stained jogging bottoms you used as pjs half the time), putting your favourite perfume on to give you a boost of confidence. As you got closer to Alessia’s house, though, your stomach started tying itself in knots. You forced yourself to keep going despite how nervous you felt about being at the other player’s home for the first time, and rang the doorbell. 

“Y/n, hi!” Alessia said, beaming when she opened the door. “Come in! Oh, you can leave your shoes and coat over there, if you want.”

She wouldn’t admit it, but she was nervous too. She’d spent far longer than usual tidying and preparing for the evening, and had swapped out the decorative cushions on her sofa three times before giving up. 

“Am I early?” you asked when you realised you were the only one there. 

“No, don’t worry! Some of the others just have a habit of being late. Half the time I tell Katie an earlier time than we’re actually planning, just so she shows up on time. Speak of the devil,” she said with a grin when another car pulled up outside.

20 minutes later, the others had all arrived as well. It was a smaller group than last time, just 9 of you, though you weren’t sure how many more than that would be able to fit into Alessia’s living room. You were a little disappointed when Katie arrived so soon after you had, enjoying the short-lived one on one time you were spending with her. 

Meanwhile, Alessia and Leah were in the kitchen, getting drinks for everyone.

“So, you and y/n have been spending a lot of time together,” Leah said casually. “What’s that about?”

Alessia blushed. “We’re… friends?”

“Is that right?” Leah said with a knowing grin.

“Okay, fine,” Alessia said, easily giving in to Leah’s knowing look. She glanced over her shoulder, checking that the kitchen door was closed before continuing. “I just think that she’s really cute, okay? And yeah, maybe I want to kiss her, so what?”

Suddenly she was being hugged tightly by Leah. “This is so exciting!” the older blonde squealed, making sure to keep her voice down. “You should tell her.”

“What?! No way,” Alessia laughed, shaking her head. “I have no idea if she feels the same way!”

“Oh, come on, she definitely does!” Leah insisted. “Haven’t you noticed that you’re, like, one of the only people y/n talks to on a daily basis? Full conversations, too!”

“Pfft, that doesn’t mean anything,” the younger player said, frowning. Did it mean something?

Leah sighed. “If you say so. Just remember, though: tonight is for your own good.” she said with a wink, and left the kitchen before Alessia could ask what the hell she was on about.

She started to get an idea about 15 minutes, when Steph, Kyra and Jen all got a text message and mysteriously had to leave. 5 minutes after that, Beth checked her phone and, not particularly convincingly, said, “Oh, the neighbour has just messaged me that she can hear Myle going crazy, we should head home and check on her.”.

Alessia raised an eyebrow. It didn’t take long for Leah and Katie to make up a similar excuse. The door swung closed behind them, and she turned to smile at you sheepishly. 

“And then there were two,” she said. “Sorry, I’m not sure what all that was about. This isn’t how movie nights usually go.”

“If I’m being honest, I’m kind of glad it’s just the two of us, rather than a big group,” you admitted shyly, internally cursing the blush you could already feel rising to your cheeks.

“Me too,” Alessia said with a smile. Before she could get another word out, however, the bluetooth speaker she kept in her training bag next to the door started blaring Love Story by Taylor Swift. The song was accompanied by a couple of car headlights flashing outside the window and some honks, and when the two of you looked out you could see Katie grinning from her car before she sped off, cutting off the music when she left the range of the speaker.

“Right, well, I feel like she didn’t quite think that through,” Alessia laughed, shaking her head at your teammates’ antics. 

Your cheeks were pink and thoughts were rushing through your mind. Did they know you liked her? Was that why they’d picked that song? And why they’d all left?

Alessia’s phone buzzed, and she checked it to find a message from Leah, saying ‘Just tell her! You’ve got this!! x’. She quickly turned her phone off again when you glanced over, and gestured towards the TV, where the film the girls had picked was still playing. 

“Want to keep watching?”

“Sure,” you nodded, though really you weren’t that interested. If it meant you got to hang out with Alessia longer though, you were all for it. You both sat down and started watching the film again, but it didn’t take long for the two of you to start chatting, the film playing in the background. 

“It’s good that your family were so supportive when you came out,” Alessia said.

“Yeah, they were really sweet, actually. To be honest, I kind of think they expected it, you know? Being a female footballer and all that,” you said, then quickly blushed, realising what you’d said. “Not that, um, all female footballers are gay, of course, I mean, I know you’re, um-”

She laughed gently, blushing a little. “It’s okay, I know what you mean. I think my family were actually surprised, really, when I never showed any interest in girls,” Up until now, she thought. “I’m just gonna, um, get a drink, do you want anything?”

“Oh, no, that’s okay, thank you,” you said quickly, not wanting to make extra work for her. 

Grinning, she picked up your empty glass anyway and took it to the kitchen with her. When she was in there, she pulled out her phone, quickly texting Leah, ‘I don’t know how to tell her!’. She anxiously bit her lip as she waited for a reply, not realising that the water was overflowing in the glass. She swore under her breath when she realised, but was quickly distracted when a reply came through. ‘Tell her how you feel! That’s all you have to do x’. Well. That wasn’t particularly helpful.

She went back into the living room and set the glasses down on the coffee table. 

“So, when did you know you liked girls?” she asked, taking a sip of water.

“I think I always knew, really. I was just never that interested in boys, and I had a huge crush on a girl in my P.E. class in high school.”

“Oh, is that your type then? Sporty girls?” she teased, and you blushed. “Has, um, anyone caught your eye here then?”

“I, uh, I-” you stammered, cheeks burning. 

She laughed nervously. “Sorry, I’m teasing. Um, actually, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

You could feel your heart pounding as you wondered where this was going. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I- well, I don’t think I am, um, straight, after all. At least, there’s at least one girl that I am interested in,” she said, sucking in a breath and looking at you with bright eyes. “You.”

“Me?” you squeaked, brain struggling to process what she was telling you. 

“I’m so sorry if I’ve made this awkward, if you don’t feel the same way, I’ve never done this before with a girl, and I really didn’t mean to make things awkward, we can just stay friends if you want, I’m so so happy to just be your friend as well-” Alessia rambled, barely pausing to take a breath until you put a hand on her leg, making her stop.

“I’m, um, interested in you, too,” you said shyly, unable to meet her gaze. There was a part of you that was still wondering if this was all a big joke. When Alessia’s hand cupped your cheek, you started to feel pretty sure it wasn’t.

“Really?” she asked, lifting your head so she could look you in the eyes.

“Really,” you told her.

You both leant in, gravitating towards one another, and you could barely breathe. You’d thought about this moment, dreamt about it. Whenever the two of you exchanged glances at training, when she laughed at something you said, when your hands brushed as you walked next to each other, you’d think about what it would be like to kiss her.

Now you were finally going to find out.