#I'm not saying I've been dragged into stuff before
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"--unfortunately all bruce has to do is send oracle a text" is sticking in my head like crazy this morning.
--
New Message: 01:23:59 (B)
Stark
New Message: 01:24:37 (B)
please
---
Barbara sat back in her computer chair, giving her triple monitor set-up one final, appreciative look. Her finger hovered over the enter button, waiting to input the final command.
Are you being mean, she reminded herself, or are you just a woman in STEM?
The answer was almost always the latter, even when it came to Oracle stuff. There also weren't a lot of days when Bruce actually managed a please within a text message. Stark flying around Gotham willy-nilly seeking out the Bat wasn't an issue he wanted to handle. He just wanted the annoying gnat gone.
This was, of course, in no way related to Bruce Wayne's public dislike for Tony Stark. A dislike, Barbara knew, came from Stark's unbearable need to be the smartest person in any given room. And the loudest.
Barbara hit the enter button with her thumb. The screens flickered, running with the new command in a lightning-fast cascade of data. Her backup PCs kicked on in the background, belching hot, metallic air into the room as they began to work furiously.
---
New Message: 01:29:07 (O)
hope you have eyes up
New Message: 01:29:07 (O)
😘
---
"What the fuck," Tony Stark said as the thrusters on his boots dimmed. "Friday, why are you diverting power? I'm trying to go up."
Friday didn't answer. Tony opened his mouth to ask again, only for the thrusters at his wrists and palms to click off a second later. He shook them, staring in disbelief, but there was no power. Nothing. Nada.
The suit began to slow its ascent, gravity dragging it back down to Earth without the extra power. It hung there in the Gotham sky for a moment before the Earth won, and they entered free-fall.
"Friday, any time now," Tony said from between gritted teeth. "Friday. Manual override."
The HUD went red at the edges, indicating a manual override. Life support remained operational, but the mechnical panel was entirely blanked out and grey. No power, no control.
Just when Tony was debating bailing out with the arc reactor and the slim-packed parachute in the suit shoulderblades, a comm line clicked in through the communications panel. It bypassed his admin approval, patching through directly to him on a private line.
"Friday?" a woman's voice said in his ear, sounding amused. She was decidedly not Friday.
"You're not Friday," Tony said, trying to play it cool. It was hard to do that when someone else had full view of the biometrics of his suit.
"Mhmm."
The boot and wrist thrusters powered back on, giving him a cool forty feet or so of room before he went splat on the Gotham sidewalk below. Tony took in a relieved breath.
"Sorry, that was just for fun," the mystery woman said. "I'm taking remote control for a few minutes. Once you're at the target location, you'll get full auth back. I just need to borrow it for a second."
Borrow. Like hacking into an Iron Man suit was easy.
The thrusters pushed him back up into the sky, at twice the usual rate he allowed outside of emergency situations. Tony gritted his teeth at the G-forces, unwilling to let the mystery woman see him sweat.
"Where are you taking me?" Tony asked, trying to manual override again with a click command. The comms screen blinked at him, denying access.
"I hear Antarctica is nice this time of year."
"You're shitting me."
The thrusters kicked up another notch. Tony blinked as a flight plan to Antarctica popped up on his HUD.
"Have fun," the mystery woman said, way more cheery than she deserved to be. Hackers weren't usually so happy. "You know, penguins look a little like bats from the right angle. Maybe you can hunt down one of them instead."
Several things clicked into place all at once in Tony's head, rapid-fire.
"You're Oracle."
Oracle hummed again, amused. "I am. And -- I've been waiting to say this for ages now, so you gotta let me do it."
"Do what?" Tony asked weakly. God, this was fast. His vision was going a little blurry at the edges.
Oracle cleared her throat, putting on a familiar growl. Tony already knew what was coming, and still. Still.
"Get the hell out of my city."
"Funny."
"I try," Oracle said. "Anyway, enjoy your trip, don't come back, Gotham airspace is mine, etc. Tell Friday I said hello. Remember to file your taxes, those are coming up soon."
The comm line went dead. Then, so did the screens in his HUD. The only things still running were the life support and thrusters. And he didn't even have access to those.
Well. Fuck.
"Friday," Tony said, just in case she was running in the background. "New note: poach Gotham's Oracle at any cost. I don't care how expensive she is."
Love me some Tony stark unfortunately all bruce has to do is send oracle a text
Broke: Bruce gets offended when people compare him to Tony Stark
Woke: Oracle gets offended when people compare Bruce to Tony Stark
#mini fic#micro fic#sorry#tony stark#oracle#barbara gordon#batman#dc#bruce wayne#myfic#theresurrectionist
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ughghgh why does creativity always hit right when i'm doin something important >:(
anyways, have some emmafiddlestan headcanon stuff:
fidds is ftm and emma-may is mtf (t4t fiddemma let's go babyyyyyyy)
stan shows up and stuff happens like in canon, but fidds comes to the shack to check on ford after getting a bad feeling, and finds stan instead
uhh something something, sexual tension, fidds mentions he has a wife and kid, and stan feels so guilty for having feelings for a married man
(I want to make a note here: fidds and emma aren't divorced yet, but they are going through a rough patch bc fidds' behavior has changed because of the memory gun. emma thinks he's addicted to drugs or alcohol, and fidds refuses to tell the truth (he is genuinely addicted, just not in the conventional way ig))
BUT stan helps fidds talk to emma, and she brings tate with her to gravity falls in an attempt to fix things (no one else knows about the memory gun yet)
then oh no! fidds' wife is insanely hot! stan's in love with both of them! (cue the bisexual panic)
also stan is like the cool uncle to tate, and he teaches him how to pick locks and hotwire cars (much to fidds' and emma-may's dismay lol)
then fidds starts flirting with stan, and oh man he wants to flirt back so bad, but how the hell can he flirt with someone whose wife is in the next room over???
oh no emma's flirting with him too??? what the fuck man this is confusing stan
eventually he brings them both in the same room and is like "idk guys you're married and i've dealt with enough married couples to know this won't end well" (i'll elaborate on that in a sec)
then fidds and emma-may start laughing because they both know about each other's crush on stan, and they forgot to tell him
then they fuck about it or somethin idk i'll figure that out later lol
(about the married couple thing) ok soooo i'm thinkin stan slept with married men while in drag (gotta charge extra, y'know?) and has been yelled at and chased by several different wives. nothin' personal he just wanted the money lol
ALSO drag queen stan getting makeup tips from emma-may :3
i've kinda got somethin for that boppin around in my head:
Stan tries not to squirm as Emma-May holds his head still. She's been helping him with his makeup for a bit, trying different styles of eyeliner.
"Hold on sugar, I'm almost done," she says, voice dripping with honey.
The eyeliner pencil goes over his eye in one more pass before she decides it's good enough.
"How's that?" she asks, holding a mirror up to his face.
Damn. He looks good. Really good. Stan's honestly surprised that Emma was so good at eye makeup, since hers were always covered by her curly hair.
Stan was perfectly capable of doing his own makeup, but there was something so intimate about trusting someone else to be so close to your face, such a delicate and vulnerable part of the body. Plus, the feeling of Emma's hands on his face felt pretty nice.
Speaking of which-- Emma's hands trail down the sides of Stan's face to cup his jaw. She gives him a smile before pressing a quick peck to his lips.
He looks her in the eye (or tries to, anyways. It's hard to see them through her hair. How she saw through it was unknown), and can't help but have a goofy grin on his face.
Behind him, he hears a whistle. "Well damn, darlin', you look swell," Fidds says, putting down the contraption he was tinkering with.
Stan blushes at the compliment, leaning over to FIddleford to give him a quick kiss, too.
Stanley wasn't sure how he got so lucky, but he finds that he doesn't care. All that matters is having his new family.
aaaaaand now for your regularly-scheduled angst:
fidds is still running the society of the blind eye, and he's doing it behind stan and emma's backs
when they find out about the memory gun, they all get into a huge argument over it
stan tries to keep them together for a bit, but when the whole cult business is revealed, it's the last straw for emma-may
she takes tate and leaves, and apologizes to stan. she really does want to stay with him, but stan has to stay and work on the portal, and emma doesn't want tate to be around a literal cult leader
they part ways and stan is heartbroken that he lost two of the people that he loved so much
fidds disappeared after emma left, started to spiral with his use of the memory gun
stan tried to help him a few times, but ultimately decided that fiddleford couldn't be helped if he didn't want help
imagine after the show ends, and stan and ford come back from their first sailing trip. stan finds emma-may in gravity falls, visiting tate. he hasn't talked to her in over 30 years, let alone seen her.
and dammit, she's aged like a fine wine. ford essentially shoves stan into a conversation with her, and they reconcile.
fiddleford has regained a lot of his memories, and is doing a lot better, now. he sees emma and apologizes for the way things happened 30 years ago
she's not quite ready to take fidds back yet, but they keep in contact and are on friendly terms
then eventually, they become a polycule once again, and stan has all of the people that he lost so long ago.
the end, or whatever lol
i think i might write a fic about this cause i reeeeeaaally like it (especially emma and stan hehe)
imagine being dipper and mabel coming back the next summer: grunkle stan is dating old man mcgucket and there's a woman they've never seen before that's living there as well. wait what do you mean that's mcgucket's ex-wife? stan is dating mcgucket's ex-wife?! and mcgucket!? and his ex-wife is also dating him again!??
the kids don't really care tho, cause now mabel has a cool aunt and dipper can ask fiddleford about his inventions
#gravity falls#stan pines#stanley pines#mullet stan#fiddleford mcgucket#fiddleford hadron mcgucket#emma may dixon#emma may mcgucket#tate mcgucket#fiddemma#emmastan#fiddlestan#emmafiddlestan#ford pines#<- he's only mentioned tho lol#dipper pines#mabel pines#<- only mentioned a lil bit lol
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Hey everyone how are you doing today because I'm uh. I'm??? I'm.
:^)
Yeah I'm!! really Going Through It, holy fuck
#ignore me#Tyto listens to WtNV#I've passed the point I originally stopped back in the day so this is all new to me#me after episode 100 (an ignorant fool): WOW there sure has been a lot of plot-heavy stuff happening but that was a nice repreive. I bet we#'ll have a few chill episodic fillers before we get back into another huge plot thing :)#Fink and Cranor: lol. lmao even.#I mean FUCK we barely had time to blink before [REDACTED] died!!!! that would have been earth-shattering enough on its own!!!!!! T_T#and then before anyone's had time to recover from that suddenly REALITY IS CRACKING APART AT THE SEAMS in a way that is somehow#JUST AS IF NOT MORE UPSETTING than when the city had to fend off a LITERAL DEMON attempting to drag them all into nothingness!!#it's less direct terror and more overpowering dread in this case but oh my god the DESPERATION in Cecil's pleas at the end of ''Cal''!!!#he's so afraid of the others abandoning the city but he wants THIS reality!!#THIS is the version of his life that has Carlos and Janice and all his other precious memories in it...!!! GUH#I'm losing my everloving mind over the last few episodes if you couldn't tell#and the next one's title. god. GOD. and he opens the announcements by saying 'hey if you're new maybe dont start with this one' which is 8^)
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Yeah to all that.
And also, yea, Galaxy pacing is something I have some issues with, too. Including the fact that they didn't spend enough time on Earth actually, yknow, facing the consequences of their own actions, and instead turns out they're pretty much naturals at soccer. I think besides Resistance Japan, Newbies should've faced other people, and preferably even people who are extremely, extremely pissed at them for stealing their spots. For one, we'd get rid of Shindou being essentially gaslit and being made into a bad guy, where he's, as I've said, reacting normally to the situation he's in, and for two the Newbies would be the ones to realize that what they'd done was undeniably shitty. Even Konoha, as sweet as she is, accepted a spot most children in InaEle universe were dreaming of.
Tbh, I don't necessarily mind starting with the introduction of the New Inazuma Japan, but I think what would've been good was give us flashbacks to Raimon training later - or other people, too - to show us that they had, indeed, worked really hard. The Shinsuke quote you brought up is the classic case of not doing the "show don't tell" thing we writers drone on and on about. For a reason.
LMAO seriously. He just left Shindou behind, and the guy nearly quit himself.
Absolutely agreed. And even aside from the dynamic between children and adults, even the adult-adult ones kind of suck. 2k25 did anybody fucking tell Natsumi her husband isn't dead in Chrono Stone. Really, tho, CS I feel is among the most aggrieving examples of adults not doing enough. These kids are literally time travelling to time periods with ongoing wars happening. And they just let them. Also, correct me if I'm wrong, by the end, when El Dorado drags everybody to the future and wants to be allies now, didn't Gouenji and Kidou support El Dorado? Cuz I have some vague memory of it. If yes, Christ alive, you really told the kids that spent months being tormented by these people to just work with them? Ugh.
And seriously. Adults are failing pretty much all of them, but Shindou's definitely got it the worst, because he handles that kind of stuff the worst. Tenma has his near-bottomless optimism (and, again, even HE gets frustrated in Galaxy), and Tsurugi has the "welp, this is what I'm dealing with today" mentality. Speaking of Tsurugi, man, that kid needs therapy. Like, all of them need, obviously, but Tsurugi was in what's essentially soccer military, and has shown to at best question authority, but never go against it. He questions Tenma for the whole keshin vs keshin plan, which is dumb as shit, sorry TenTen, and Tsurugi likely has enough experience to know that it's really fucking stupid, but Tenma says keep doing that, so he keeps doing that. God. And here's the same. This representation is a fucking joke and an insult to every soccer player in the country, but he's told to play, so he'll play.
But anyway, Shindou's neither Tenma nor Tsurugi. And on top of that, in Galaxy he's going through the same shit he's been going through in Raimon pre-revolution! He's in an awful situation he has no power over. He can't do shit about it just deal with it. This powerlessness is something that's been following him throughout the first year of school, and then the second the moment Tsurugi appeared - he couldn't do anything. He couldn't protect the team, and to no fault of his own, either - Raimon was following Fifth Sector, and they still got beaten up for it. It literally didn't matter if Shindou screamed or cried or tried to punch somebody - no action of his could have possibly led to a favorable outcome. He was completely, utterly helpless. And so he is again.
It's, admittedly, a headcanon of mine, that part of the reason why Shindou was so pissed all the time was because he was pretty much reliving his trauma, but I love it, so I'm sharing.
100% agreed. Literally their saving grace was the fact that at least some of them did sports before, so while dogshit at soccer, at least they could make up a little bit. But seriously, it's a miracle anything worked there. Again, no fucking shit Shindou was crashing out.
SERIOUSLY. ALL OF THIS. SERIOUSLY.
And, as I've said, Shindou's the playmaker. It's his literal job judge the opponents' as well as his teammates' abilities, and then figure out how to best make use of what everybody can and cannot do to succeed. He has no choice but to be painfully aware as to how much his own team is lacking compared to the people they're facing against, so it's all the more reasons for him to be stressed af.
Personally I'm surprised it was ONLY the people who showed support. I would've expected more booing and laughter, I mean, they did embarrass themselevs in front of the entire country, and now Tetsukado was embarrassing himself, too, by (purposefully) not scoring to an empty goal.
Don't have the screen on me, but I'm losing it a little. It's the Leaving Inazuma Japan test, and Tetsukado says he'll pass it (will leave), and he's suddenly like *frowns* bet you'd he happy to see me gone @ Shindou.
Dude, you couldn't even be bothered to come to training. Tenma literally asked you to at least be there if not to participate. Yea, I think Shindou would be happier to work with people who, idk, try to work.
Like, every time I think Ok, maybe Shindou is a little too harsh, newbies do or say something like that and, nah, they earned it.
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"Cancelling plans is like heroin" - John Mulaney
(Sebatian x reader, they're married)
#look at that i finished another one; isn't that crazy#unlike the last one this one wasn't beta read cause i could not ask my friend to read this LMAO#this one's just pure fluff#takes place in spring on the day before then day of flower dance#stardew valley fanfic#my writings#idk how to write summaries but i think this quote summarizes the story quite well so i'll go with it lmfao#also i didn't remember i had to manually add my markdowns with the first fic but i got it this time#tags from the next morning cause there was stuff i forgot to say when i posted this#light spoilers in tags past this point so fair warning#this was entirely based on seb being like ''do we have to go?'' to the dance the day before and me thinking ''no actually. we don't''#so i just. didn't go#was more of a hoedown than i expected/hoped anyways#glad i didn't; from the dialogue on the wiki he sounds miserable; i wouldn't wanna drag him there#to be completely honest the only published books i've read over the last 2 years have been rick riordan's works so LMAO#hence why i reffed percy jackson in there; just thought it'd be fun#goes w the time period i imagine for stardew; taking place in late 90's-early 2000's and the first book came out in '05#so yeah when i said seb had a phone in the last story it was def like. a nokia brick#totally forgot to mention that i made a playlist for this; it's on my soundcloud w the same username#reading the 2nd heroes of olympus rn; i'm like halfway through but i'm very slow at reading actual books#i fucking love kane chronicles; idk where else i'd be able to say that so i'm saying it now
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Lust is in the Air



Pairing: Hongjoong x f reader
Genre: smut
Word count: 6.4k
Summary: Your best friend drags you along to a family wedding, wanting to add some fun to your all too serious life. Turns out her uncle is the one who really provides the distraction.
Warnings: smut, MDNI, age gap (Hongjoong is 40 reader is 23), some talk during sex about the age gap so really don't read this if you don't like that, some dom/sub dynamics, throat fucking, degradation and praise, bratty y/n, use of pet names (baby, doll), ass eating, anal, unprotected sex
A/n: Sometimes I see a random video of him and I'm reminded all over again how hot I think a very mature Hongjoong would be. Especially if he was mocking me and making me feel pathetic. Yeah this was pure horny, quite filthy for me. This isn't as proofread as my normal stuff so apologies for any mistakes
Read it on ao3
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Well, maybe it was a good idea. You had been staying in every weekend since the breakup, and maybe being forced out of the house would be good for you. Force you to interact with a few people, to actually put some effort into your appearance. Maybe put on a little makeup, or actually brush your hair.
"Please don't say no," Beatrice says through the phone. "My family would love it if you came, and I'd love it if you came. And we haven't had a chance to spend a weekend like this in forever. There will be free food and free booze!"
"I know you're worried about me, Bea," you respond, sighing.
"I'm not inviting you out of pity," she says.
"I know, I know. Just, give me some time to think it over. I've got an assignment I need to finish for one of my classes, I think it's due this Sunday night. So if I can't finish it this week I'll need to do it this weekend," you reply.
"Okay, just text me. I'm not gonna invite anyone else as my plus one, if you don't end up coming. So no rush, take your time," she says.
"Thank you. You know I appreciate you so much," you say, sighing into the cushion of your couch.
"You know I feel the same," she says, sighing too. You'd both been through breakups recently. It seemed like your hardships always occurred on nearly the same timeline, making you both able to rely on each other for understanding. And she knew getting you out of the house, especially for a weekend wedding, would be good for you. Her cousin's family was rich and hadn't held back in their planning, booking the fanciest hotel in town for everyone. They were paying for everything; the food and drinks of course, and everyone's hotel expenses. You'd knew you'd go. You'd try to finish the assignment beforehand. But even if you didn't, you'd still go.
Driving up to the front of the hotel together felt surreal. Beatrice had asked to take your car, as it wasn't the bright purple color that her's was. This place was fancy, and though neither of your cars were deluxe, at least your's was black.
"Miss McArthur?" the valet asked once you rolled your window down.
"Yeah, that's me," Beatrice said from the passenger seat, reaching over you to hand him her ID. "This is my plus one, y/n. She should be on the list."
After a brief look at his clipboard the man gave you both a satisfied nod. "Do you ladies have any bags we can carry up for you?" he asked.
"Yes, in the trunk," Beatrice answered for you, which you were grateful for. You'd never interacted with a valet before, never been in such a fancy situation in your life. You stumbled out of the car a bit awkwardly, your jean shorts and t-shirt looking ridiculous next to the suit and tie of the man in front of you. He held out his hand to you and for a moment you paused, wondering if he was offering to take your hand. But then you realized he was actually offering to take your keys. Duh.
"Thank you," you said quickly, heading around the car to meet Bea as you walked behind the man carrying your bags.
On the sixth floor you entered your shared room, a spacious and beautifully decorated space with a huge window covering the far wall. It was a sliding glass door, that led out to a balcony overlooking the river below. In the afternoon sun the water glittered, but you knew the view at night would be the real show, absolutely magical.
"Everyone is meeting in the restaurant at 7," Bea tells you, glancing at her family's group chat.
"Well then I've got a little over two hours to make myself look at least a little bit nice. Like maybe I actually belong here," you laugh, opening your bag to grab the casual dress you'd packed.
"Oh dinner tonight won't be fancy, wear whatever," Bea replies, kicking off her sandals.
"Okay but, with your cousins family not fancy would still probably be a little fancy, right?" you ask.
"You don't need to worry about fitting in, dude. No one will care," Bea replies.
"I just don't want to look like an idiot," you say, eyeing her.
"Y/n, you really need to stop worrying. This weekend is about us having fun. I'm not even that close with my cousin Amana, to be honest. We'll probably barely interact with her family. But we get to attend this fancy wedding, all expenses paid. Just wear whatever you feel like, do whatever you want to. Just promise me you'll have some fun," she says.
"Okay, fine," you respond, rolling your eyes jokingly. "I guess I'll try to enjoy this super nice luxury hotel for the weekend."
Bea laughs in relief, at hearing you joke around. It was what you both needed more of; you both had serious work and school lives already to contend with. And seriously disappointing dating lives, too.
As seven approaches you both make your way to the elevator, pausing at you exit the door to inspect the slight amount of makeup you'd put on. You hadn't worn any in weeks and it made you feel really pretty, along with the flowly sundress and sandals you'd decided to wear. You weren't always one for such feminine clothing but today it felt right, and you both bounced down the hall, spirits high. Bea led the way through the lobby to a long hallway, past what looked like a bar and some other room that had a bouncer, to the large restaurant at the end. Immediately you saw the long tables lined up, clearly set up for the wedding party. This wasn't the dress rehearsal, just the welcome dinner. It was only Friday, and the wedding wasn't until Sunday. Immediately you spotted the wine and appetizers filling the table, scanning the tables to try to find your seats.
"I can't find us Bea," you laugh, awkwardly walking past family members you'd never met before.
"Y/n, you're at our table," you hear a familiar female voice say, and turn to see Bea's mom.
"Oh, hi! Thank you!" you say as you walk over to her, giving her a quick hug.
"So glad you could join us sweetie," she says, gesturing to your seats. "See, you and Beatrice are near the end there, across from Nathan. Oh and have you met Beatrice's uncle Hongjoong before?" she asks, gesturing down the table.
You look down to see Beatrice sitting, pulling her chair under her and smiling wide. Across from her, in a casual but fitted grey t-shirt, a man smiles back, handing her a glass of wine he's just poured. He is striking, with jet black hair and tattoos, piercings donning his right ear. His jaw is sharp, his teeth perfect when he smiles. He looks maybe 27, 28. He's wearing an expensive watch, or at least a watch that looks expensive to your eyes, and a small simple chain necklace. His hair is cropped short at the sides; he looks so put together, so professional. So mature. So fucking attractive.
"That's Bea's uncle?" you ask her. It's not just his age that makes you ask. It's the fact that he's basically your dream come true. You see the muscles in his arm flex as he pours Nathan a glass too, and it makes your eyes cross for a moment.
"Well technically I think he's a second cousin, once removed, or something like that. He's a part of Wooyoung's family." Wooyoung was her husband, Bea's dad. You'd met her parents, and her brother Nathan, but never anyone else in her extended family. And you struggled to recall ever hearing about a Hongjoong before. You stared at him a moment before he moved his eyes over to you, catching you off guard. His look was mischievous, like he wants to play or mess with you. It made it hard to believe this was someone Bea called 'uncle.'
"Do you want to sit?" Bea's mom asked you.
"Yeah, sorry," you smiled at her, making you way down.
"Y/n! This is my uncle Hongjoong, and Hongjoong, this is y/n," Beatrice says as you pull out your seat next to her.
"Very nice to meet you," he says with an outstretched hand, his handshake strong and confident in a way that makes your body tingle.
"You as well," you reply, with a bashful smile. Immediately Bea asks you a question and you respond on auto-pilot, not even really hearing. Because your head is swimming in water just from being in this man's presence, and you can't focus. You don't even notice the glass of wine he'd poured you until he sets it down by your appetizer plate, gently bumping the stem on the rim of the plate to make a gentle clink. The sound makes your eyes snap up, and for some reason he looks amused.
"Oh, thank you," you say to him, bowing your head slightly. That mischievous smirk is back on his face when you lock eyes again, like he's trying to tell you something, but you can't be sure what it is. You certainly hope he's thinking what you're thinking. God, he's fucking stunning.
Those are the only words you speak to each other for the entirety of dinner. With so many people in attendance the restaurant is loud, louder still as everyone becomes tipsy, and then outright drunk on the unlimited wine.
"Hey, my parents want me a Nathan to go take pictures with them on the golf course nearby. They booked a photo shoot or something," Bea tells you, rolling her eyes slightly. "I'm not sure when we'll be back but feel free to like, go to the hot tub or do whatever around the hotel," she says.
"Okay, sounds good. Thank you, seriously," you say as you hug her. "I hope it's fun."
"Oh, I'm sure it will be," she laughs. "My parents and their family photos," she shakes her head, making you giggle, as she slowly makes her way to meet her brother at the front door of the restaurant.
You take stock of yourself for a moment, making sure you have your phone and your wallet in your purse, making sure your room key is still in your wallet. You take the last swig of your second glass of wine, patting yourself on the back for not overdoing it this first night when basically everyone around you did. You start sipping on your nearly empty glass of water too, knowing you don't want to wake up hungover tomorrow. The table is basically empty, with everyone slowly clearing out or making their last requests at the bar. You decide you'll go explore in a moment, go scope out the pool and hot tub situation, and maybe see if you can figure out what room is behind that bouncer. But just as you start standing up, Hongjoong approaches the table.
"I got some more waters for the table, but it looks like they've all left," he chuckles, his arms full.
"They went to do a family photo, Bea said," you reply, stuck for a moment awkwardly between sitting and standing. Hongjoong nods, like he already knew.
"Oh, were you about to leave too? Don't let me keep you," he says, the glint back in his eye again.
"I was thinking I'd go take a look at the pool and hot tub, maybe explore a bit," you say. It sort of takes you by surprise that you're sharing this with a total stranger, given your usual instinct to not share anything with people you don't know. You easily could have excused yourself, and been exploring the hotel alone. But deep down you know why you're sharing it. You hope he picks up on that reason, too.
"That's a great idea," he says, gently setting the waters down. "Mind if I join you? I was thinking of exploring the hotel some myself."
Bingo. You smile, eyes fluttering at him for a second. You truly don't even mean to do it, but the way he looks at you has you feeling shameless.
"Sure, I wouldn't mind," you reply, stepping out from your chair and gently pushing it into the table.
"Want to take a water with you?" he asks, holding one out.
"I don't think we can just take the glass with us," you reply, narrowing your eyes at him.
"Oh, who cares," he says glancing over his shoulder, seeing all of the wait staff occupied at the bar with everyone's last minute orders. "I'll carry it out, if you're that worried," he says, cocking his head slightly to the side and eyeing you with what must be mock pity.
"Fine," you roll your eyes at him, trying to fight the smile forming on your face from betraying how much his tone and facial expression are affecting you. You turn around and start strolling out of the restaurant, not even waiting for him. Once you're exiting he's already caught up, two water glasses in hand. You turn to your right, heading for the lobby.
"Wrong way, y/n," Hongjoong says lowly from behind you, making you stop in your tracks. "The pool is out those doors at the end of the hall."
"The sign in the lobby says the door to the pool is by the front desk," you reply, looking over your shoulder at him. The hallway is dimly lit, and the shadows on his face make his jaw look even sharper.
"Well that door also leads to the pool," he says, gesturing to the end of the hall. You just stare at him a moment, not sure why you feel the instinct to argue. "You don't believe me?" he asks, chuckling and looking you dead in the eye, before obviously snaking his gaze down the entirety of your body. Now that he's standing you see the fitted black pants and black dress shoes he's wearing, making his outfit look even more professional. His thighs look strong, and his stance is one of confidence, his entire demeanor cool and collected. You want to come up with a witty retort but can't think of anything, so you just start walking the way he's said to, again passing him by without slowing down to meet him. You open the doors gently but don't stop to hold them for him, brattiness taking ahold of you. Maybe it's the fancy hotel, or the wine, but you feel like a princess who deserves whatever she wants. And right now that's to piss Hongjoong off a bit, and see the pool.
"I thought nice girls hold doors open for the elderly," he says once he's exited too, sidling up to you. You stand by the long edge of the pool, taking in the lights below the surface that dance through the water. You turn to him and roll your eyes, taking the water glass he offers you immediately. "So, what do you do?" he asks.
"I'm still in school, I'm in my senior year," you say, turning back to the water. "And I work part time as an administrative assistant in the Dean's office, to help cover some of my tuition."
"College senior," he says, like he's mulling it over. "So that makes you how old?"
"Guess," you say, turning to him again, this time with your whole body.
"22," he replies. His voice low, like he's hesitant to say it.
"Close, 23," you say, not lowering your voice to meet his.
"And how old do you think I am?" he asks you, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Mmm, like, 38?" you joke, squinting your eyes as you look intently at his face. The feeling of wanting to piss him off still hadn't left you.
"How astute," he replies, nodding. "People usually think I'm younger."
"You're actually 38?" you ask, bewildered.
"Actually, 40," Hongjoong replies, making your eyebrows shoot up.
"You're lying," you say, rolling your eyes and shaking your head at him.
"Wow, second time tonight you've thought that. I don't know what I've done to make you think so poorly of me," he replies, that mischievous look again painting his face.
"Oh, shut up," you say, rolling your eyes harder this time, wanting to reach out and playfully punch him. Or maybe not so playfully. He's looking more and more perfect by the second, and his attitude, the way he's just so confident and calm, is making you hot and bothered. You know it maybe it's wrong, but now that you know his real age you find this whole scenario even hotter. If you were honest with yourself you'd always dreamed of fucking an older man, but the few you'd gone on dates with or had the chance to talk to had always been so immature, insecure, and underwhelming. Just like all the other guys you'd dated. It was a massive disappointment to learn that age didn't often give people that self-assured demeanor that you so desired. But clearly it did sometimes; the proof was standing in front of you.
"That wasn't very nice," Hongjoong replies, fixing you with a look of disapproval that makes your thighs clench involuntarily, as the two of you stare each other down merely feet apart. You hold his gaze as long as you can before you look down at your feet, his stoic demeanor feeling like a brick wall you can't break through.
"You're very pretty, y/n," he says, stepping forward to lift your face up to his.
"Really?" you ask him, eyes wide. Playing it just the way he likes.
"I know you know how pretty you are, you've been giving me those eyes all night," he says, looking like he disapproves. "You're a bit of brat, too, aren't you?" he asks, his hand moving to the side of your cheek.
"No comment," you giggle, and he grabs your hand, bringing it to his upper arm. You grab onto his bicep as he moves his hand to your waist pulling you two closer.
"Dance with me," he says, pulling you slightly into his chest.
"There isn't any music playing," you say, laughing. And it's the way that he doesn't just automatically laugh at your little comments that really gets you going.
"If I didn't know better, I'd think you didn't like me very much," he says seriously, pulling you in and starting to rock you back and forth. You dance together for a few minutes, no words being exchanged as your bodies get used to the proximity, as your mind begins to swim again, even more so now that his hands are on you. You want him to kiss you, do anything, now, but he keeps his hands where they are, still leading you around in slow circles. Fuck it, you think. You lift your hands to his face and pull him in, your lips meeting in a perfect kiss, his hand on your waist moving up your back as he holds you to him, leaning you back as he deepens it. You hold steadily onto his bicep for balance, your breathing fast as you stick your tongue in his mouth, not hiding your desperation. You don't care to, not when you've spent two months without this feeling, tortured over the idea that no one at your school would ever consider you an option after your last relationship ended the way it did.
And just when it seems like you're the only desperate one, Hongjoong moves his hands down, running them up your thighs and under your dress to find your panties. He finds none, much to his surprise, which makes his dick harden even further. He gropes your ass, deepening the kiss more, making you arch your back in neediness. And then he snakes his hand around, slowly moving to your core, before suddenly running a finger over your slit, making you gasp. You've forgotten where you are, totally engrossed in the feelings he's giving you. You buck your hips against his hand, moaning pathetically into his mouth, your legs feeling like they might give out on you. He starts circling your entrance, finally pushing one finger in maybe an inch, when you finally remember where you are.
"Wait, fuck, not out here," you say, pulling back from him. He pulls his hand away immediately, his fingers glistening in the lights of the night.
"You don't want everyone to see?" he asks, a smirk on his face.
"Not when the people paying for me to be here could see," you say. Your lips look swollen and wet from the kiss, and it makes him want to grab you again.
"You're the one who kissed me," he says, his voice low. And you know there's more he's implying, that you weren't just the one who kissed him but that you had rocked against his hand, had wanted his touch. That you'd kissed him desperately, making him unable to stop himself. The implication is inappropriate, the accusation he's laid on you not fair in the slightest. He has no way of knowing what you were trying to make him do, or what you wanted to happen. You hadn't said a word. And yet, he's totally right, making it hard for you to respond.
"That's-," you sigh, your pussy still throbbing from your proximity.
"My room is on the 7th floor," he says.
"Okay," you reply. It's all you can say. You stand completely still, stuck to the spot, waiting for him to move. Instead he puts his wet fingers in his mouth, sucking off your slick in one smooth motion, humming in satisfaction. Your mouth gapes at his lewdness, struck now by just how visible you both obviously are.
"Let's go," he says, motioning his head towards the door.
Your legs move automatically, your mind playing over and over the visual of him licking his fingers, the look of utter bliss on his face. As you walk the hallway he comes behind you, putting a hand on the small of your back, making your body melt into him slightly. It feels good but you gently remove his hand, not wanting anyone to see. You pray that neither Bea nor any of her family are in the lobby when you enter, and thankfully, your prayers are answered. Nor does anyone join you two on the elevator, which makes you willing to stand closer to Hongjoong than you would any other stranger. But still, you don't touch him. As you both exit you walk behind him, almost enough space between you that you could believably look like two total strangers, walking to separate rooms. Until he unlocks his door, holding it open as you slip inside, like you're really not supposed to be in here.
As soon as he closes the door he's pulled you to him, his back slamming into the wall as you nearly crash together, the air between you thick with lust.
"I'm almost twice as old as you, y/n," he whispers in your ear, feeling your pussy clench against his thigh that you're straddling, your mouth on his neck. "You like that," he states, not even asking you anymore. "You like that I'm way too old for you. Too old to be touching you like this."
It's wrong, so wrong and you know it, but the further he pushes it the more you're surrendering to what's happening, to what your body truly craves.
"You've never been fucked right by those stupid boys at your college, have you? You need me to fuck you right, to show you how good you can feel. That's why you were bratty with me, you wanted me to be riled up. Want me to fuck you hard, like I'm mad. Like I'm punishing you," he growls, his breathing heavy as you bite down on his neck, sending sparks of pain and pleasure through his head. "Fuck, you really want me mad, don't you?" he asks and you whine in response, your whole body tingly with anticipation.
"Get on your knees," he says, pulling you back from him, your hair already a mess from his hands, the straps of your dress falling down your shoulders and nearly making your tits spill out. "Open your mouth," he commands, and you follow immediately, your wide eyes looking up at him in desire, his thumb running over your bottom lip. "I like when you do what I say," he says, pinching your cheek and making you blush, the praise making your insides turn to jelly. He unzips his pants smoothly, undoing the button and swiftly pulling out his hard cock, the tip a slight shade of red and already leaking slightly.
"Look what you did to me," he says, palming himself, your tongue nearly falling out of your mouth as you salivate over his beautiful cock. "I thought for a moment I'd have to come up here and deal with this all on my own, after you eye-fucked me all dinner," he continues, slowly stroking his length, moving closer to your open and waiting lips. "I should have known you weren't wearing any panties from the way you were acting," he says, gently running his tip along your outstretched tongue, spreading your spit around your face with it and making a mess of you. "No bra, no panties. You wanted to be fucked tonight." Slowly he enters your mouth, gently holding your head as he pushes further in, gently tapping the back of your throat and making you gag. You moan, your pussy clenching around nothing, wanting him to fill all of your holes at once. "That feels good, doesn't it. Gagging on my cock," he smirks, your eyes fluttering closed as he pushes in again, this time a little harder. "Eyes on me baby, don't look away," he says, slowly beginning to fuck your throat, gently enough not to choke you but deep enough to make you repeatedly gag, your spit covering his cock and running down your chin, your face a complete mess. "Fuck, your mouth feels good," he groans, his face scrunching up in pleasure for a moment, before he looks down to meet your eyes again, which are now glued to him, glued to every change in his expression, every flick of his tongue across his bottom lip. "I'm gonna go harder baby, I know you can take it," he warns you before picking up his pace, his cock nearly bottoming out in your mouth as he holds your head in place, repeatedly fucking into your throat. You're automatically swallowing around him, your body's reflexive actions taking over. "Fuck, so good," Hongjoong sighs, your head feeling light from the lack of oxygen and your body swimming in pleasure. You could let him use your throat all night if he wanted to, especially if he keeps talking to you like that. Like you're dumb and you don't even know what you want. Like he has to tell you or you'll never figure it out.
Finally you choke hard, your body instinctively pulling you back, and he pulls out of your mouth letting you catch you breath, stroking a hand through your hair. You run a hand across your mouth, trying in vain to clean yourself up a bit, wiping the saliva on your dress and staring up at him open mouthed, your entire body covered in a sheen of sweat.
"Hey, don't ruin this," he says pulling at your dress, moving behind you to help take it off. He slowly undoes the zipper, gently pulling the straps down and off your arms before helping you stand to step out of it. Completely bare, you stand in front of him, his hand coming up to spank you, grabbing your ass hungrily in his hand. You yelp at the impact, like you weren't expecting it. Like you hadn't been sticking your ass out ever so slightly, arching your back to add to the affect. "Don't write checks you can't cash, doll," he says, making you giggle and turn your head to face him, a look of utter delight on your face. "It really makes you happy when I scold you, doesn't it," he says, staring you down.
"Why are you so clothed?" you ask, finding your words.
"You want to see me naked?" he teases.
"Just seems like you're hiding something. Maybe under all that nice clothing you're really not that built," you laugh, knowing it would strike a nerve. It wasn't hard to tell that he cared about his figure.
"Go sit on your hands on the bed," he retorts, his eyes narrowing, as he starts taking off his watch, undoing the clasp on his chain. He sets both down on the table gently, pulling his shirt over his head next, revealing that most of his abdomen is also covered in tattoos, his broad shoulders and broad chest. Slowly he sits on the side of the bed to untie his shoes, periodically looking up at you to make sure you haven't moved, moving almost comically slow. You wriggle in anticipation, watching him slowly reveal himself, his muscular thighs finally on display to you as he pulls down his pants and boxers, his cock hard and a deeper shade of red now, still glistening from your spit.
"Lay on your stomach," he says, moving over you when you oblige, raking the hair out of your face so he can see you. "This is what you get for sticking your ass out," he says, swiftly moving down to lick over your hole, making you gasp at the coldness of his tongue. Immediately the feeling runs to your clit, your entire crotch alive with pleasure, your back arching instinctively to meet his movements. He spreads your cheeks to get better access, moving his tongue in quick circles around your tight entrance, your body slowly relaxing from the pleasure he's providing.
And suddenly he's off of you, reaching into his bedside drawer and pulling out a bottle, swiftly lubing the fingers of his right hand and moving them to your waiting hole, gently pushing one in. You groan, the tight muscles stretching already, your body arching even further to give him the perfect angle as he gently starts pumping in and out of you.
"You like getting your ass eaten, I knew you would. So dirty," he says, making you whine in agreement, your brows scrunched together in pleasure. Soon he adds another finger, the stretch again making you groan, your body instinctively tightening up at the intrusion. "I know you can take it," he says, not even attempting to comfort you. "Don't brats like getting their asses fucked?" he asks, his words making your clit ache, your body finally releasing again as he works you open with two fingers, taking the opportunity to quickly add another. "I knew it," he says, satisfied with how quickly he's stretched you open, how pliant your body is in his hands, how he's getting exactly what he wants from you. Still fucking you with his fingers, he opens the lube bottle again with his other hand, generously dousing his achingly hard cock. Gently he pulls his fingers out of you, frozen for a moment staring at the way your hole has opened up, nearly drooling from the visual.
"Spread you legs," he says, pushing your knees apart himself, pulling you ass up towards him, just where he wants you. Lining himself up, he slowly pushes in, the stretch even more severe this time, making you whine in pain, your breaths short and stifled with your head now shoved into his pillows. "What, you can't take it? Is it too big?" he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "My little brat can't take my cock in her ass?"
Tears start forming in your eyes from how turned on you are, the pain a secondary feeling as it all starts to feel just right, as it starts morphing into only pleasure as your muscles finally relent. You feel like you're being split open, like you're opened up more than ever before, like he's gutting you from the inside. Finally he bottoms out, reaching into you further than you thought you could feel, your clit throbbing painfully with need.
"Fuck, you're so tight," he groans from above you, brushing a hand along your cheek in an almost sweet gesture, seeing the single tear stain on your cheek. He waits a moment, waiting to feel if your body is ready, and suddenly your hips are moving into his like your body is begging him to move. He slowly pulls out, almost all the way, then thrusts back in, making you gasp at the intense pleasure, your breath nearly getting caught in your throat. Grabbing your hips he starts forcefully thrusting, chasing his own pleasure as he's sucked into your ass, the tight muscles threatening to make him come in an instant. Desperate for some relief you move your hand to your clit, desperately trying to circle it as he rocks you hard with the force of his thrusts. His eyes are glued to your ass, glued to the way his cock looks buried inside you, and your face, the way your mouth hangs permanently open as you moan in earnest, clearly not controlling a single sound that is coming out. The raw sounds make him fuck into you even harder, the way you sound so pathetically fucked out, like you can't believe this feels so good. Eventually his eyes roam down again and spot your hand, swatting it away in an instant, his anger boiling up again.
"Is my cock not enough?" he scolds, his voice gravelly from breathing so raggedly, the air in the room stiflingly hot. In this position it's hard, but quickly he finds a good angle and lands a sharp smack on your clit, the pain lancing through your core like lightning, and suddenly your whole body is shaking, your nerves completely on fire. "Even with my cock buried in your ass you want to piss me off, don't you?" His voice is raised, nearly to the point of losing control, but still very calculated. He lands another sharp slap on your clit, this time not as hard, but in an instant your orgasm washes over you, your whole body shaking hard as you squeeze down around his cock making it hard for him to keep moving.
"Fuck, baby, shit," Hongjoong curses, his climax hitting him by surprise, his cock milked by your tight walls squeezing down on him, your body taught with just how hard you came. His orgasm crashes over him fast and hard, his body going limp just after yours does, as you both collapse in a pile on the bed, his cum coating the walls of your ass in silky wetness. Your legs are still shaking, tucked up underneath you, his cock still buried deep inside. The position is awkward but you don't even feel it, the pleasure still rippling through you as you breath hard into the soft pillow. Hongjoong crashes onto your back, his arms instinctively wrapping around you, his chest and stomach rapidly rising and falling from his heavy breathing. His skin feels sticky and hot against yours, his hot breath fanning over your cheek as he plants a kiss there, intently watching your face as you come down.
"I'm gonna pull out now, okay?" he asks, eliciting a hum of agreement from you. Slowly he pulls backwards, his cum spilling out of you the moment he's pulled out entirely, spilling down your ass cheek onto the bedsheets. Hongjoong makes his way to the bathroom, quickly cleaning himself up before grabbing a washcloth for you, dousing it in luke warm water. Coming back to the bed he gently moves you onto your back, to the side of the pool of cum. He gently wipes you down, making you moan when he brushes over your clit, making himself chuckle.
Glancing over at the clock beside his bed you see it's nearly 11pm, your mind spinning. Quickly you move to the ground to rummage through your purse, glancing at your phone to see a text from Beatrice reading 'I'm back now, don't stay out too late miss.'
Be back soon, you write back.
"I should be going," you say, trying to stand up, your wobbly legs making it difficult. Hongjoong is at your side in a moment, stabilizing you, helping you to sit down on the bed while he grabs your dress off the floor. You hastily pull it over your head, running your fingers through your hair and feeling the knots that have formed. Quickly you zip the back of your dress, shove your phone in your purse and stand to slip on your sandals, not wanting to keep her waiting. The sudden quietness of Hongjoong also has you feeling slightly on edge, and really your head is just spinning, from every unexpected thing that happened.
"I'm not still mad, you know," he says gently, grabbing your hand as you move to breeze past him.
"Yeah?" you ask, looking at him with confusion.
"You don't need to still be acting like a kid who is in trouble," he says, kissing your hand. "That was just, that. You can talk to me like anyone else, now."
You eye him, swallowing thickly. What does one even say, now? Could he tell how inexperienced you were with hookups?
"I'm not sure what's going on in that pretty head of yours. I hope it's happy thoughts."
You nod, a smirk playing on your lips. You're speechless, unable to think a complete thought. It all just plays in your head, his tongue on your ass, his fingers stretching you out, his cock pounding into you so hard. And the smack on your clit, the way it made you come so fast, the ghost of the feeling still present in your core.
"Not those thoughts. You're gonna jump me again," he laughs, and finally you smack him, punching his arm soon afterwards. Pushing past him you walk fast, opening his door and spinning around, your eyes piercing as you meet his.
"What, you can't take my teasing?" he asks, but suddenly his door swings shut, your face gone in a flash.
As you saunter down the hall to the elevator you feel fucking amazing, swinging your purse over your shoulder and flipping your hair to the side, your sleepy eyes boring holes into the metal doors.
Well, she did tell you to have some fun. You just hoped Beatrice wouldn't be too mad you fucked her uncle.
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No one knows who writes the Hawkins High Tattler. It comes out every week, without fail, has for almost two decades. Everyone reads it, even teachers, even parents. It's caused more the one suspension, grounding, and even--famously--a shipping off to boarding school.
Steve's never let the Tattler get to him much. He's in it, of course, practically a new story every week. But it's just silly gossip.
Of course, Steve is also, currently, the titular Tattler, so. It's not like he's surprised when his name shows up.
It's his third year, his last year, and he knows everything that ever goes on at Hawkins High. It's pretty easy, honestly. Everyone thinks he's ditzy and vapid; nothing more than hairspray and polos. People will say anything around him, assuming he's not listening or not interested, and then bam. It's in next week's Tattler. No one even suspects him.
The confessions locker probably helps. Down by the theater, busted and unusable, the perfect place for people to leave tips, to tattle on their friends (or enemies, as the case may be).
That's what he's doing right now, checking the confessions locker. After 9:30 on a Friday night, the place silent as the tomb, perfect time for it. Pretty standard fare this week. The only thing of interest is that Eddie Munson was the person who broke all Ms. Click's pencils and left the stubs on her desk. This one, he laughs at, can't wait to publish it; can't wait to talk to Munson about it.
He gets a lot of stuff about Eddie. Most of it he doesn't publish because it's bullshit about satanic rituals--the nerdy kids he babysits play dnd, and there's no way Karen Wheeler is letting anything satanic happen in her basement--or about his sexuality, and one thing Steve doesn't do is out people.
Gathering up this week's submissions, he closes the locker with a soft clink, and he swears, swears he hears the squeak of a tennis shoe on the polished tile of the floor. He freezes, heart in his throat. Nobody has been here this late before.
Seconds pass but there's only silence. Confident he's only hearing things, he heads out, the parking lot just as empty as when he arrived.
---
He sees Eddie a few days later, when he's picking up the kids from the arcade. They typically exchange casual greetings, but as Steve waits, Eddie stands with him, offers him a cigarette.
"Read that was you who messed with Click's pencils. Good one."
Eddie shrugs, gives a little bow and a smile. "Happy to be of service."
"It was my class, when she found them. Never seen her so mad."
"No way," Eddie laughs. "Not even when Hagan drew dicks on all the textbooks?"
"Not even then, man. She was throwing pencil stubs everywhere."
"Fuck, sad I missed it." Eddie takes a drag, Steve's eyes following the movement, lingering on his mouth. Something warm and tingling builds at the base of his spine and he forces his gaze away.
"How long you in detention for?"
"I'm not. Swore it wasn't me, and Click doesn't want to admit she reads the Tattler, so. Not much they could do. "
"I've seen it sitting on her desk!"
"I know! She reads it when she has detention duty!"
They lean against Steve's car, laughing, and Steve feels good. This is good. He likes Eddie. He's funny and dramatic and smart and kind. He's not deserving of any of the mean things that get submitted to the Tattler.
The kids come streaming into the parking lot then, and Eddie stubs out his cigarette, says "see you around, Harrington," and Steve finds himself flushing for reasons he can't quite explain.
---
He starts seeing Eddie around way more. He's in school most days, smoking in the parking lot after the last bell, chatting with Steve in the hallways.
It shows up in the Tattler; big news that the King and the Freak are hanging out. Most of the submissions are about it, increasingly elaborate rumors about their supposedly deep, close friendship.
He wishes he could tell Eddie.
Eventually, Eddie invites him to smoke at the quarry. He doesn't hesitate to say yes, doesn't even bother to try ignoring the swoop in his stomach, the speed of his heart.
They sprawl out in the back of the van, Eddie's loud, raucous music pounding around them, sharing a joint back and forth.
Steve gets hazy, boneless, can't stop watching Eddie, the way his lips purse around the joint, his long hair glinting gold in the weak light of the camping lanterns, the pleased shine of his eyes every time he makes Steve laughs.
He likes Eddie so much. Everything about him, honestly. Butterflies ping in his stomach, happy and slow, and he thinks how nice Eddie's lips are, wonders how soft they must be. And he thinks--he's read the submissions, right--he knows the things they say about Eddie, and he wishes it was true, he wants--he wants--
He wants
---
Steve's running late to check the locker. Lost track of time at the diner with Eddie, and it's making him panic.
He stuffs the submissions haphazardly into the pocket of his hoodie, dancing with nerves, willing himself to grab them all and get out.
Locker emptied, he sprints towards the exit. He has a second to process someone barreling towards him in the dark, but he's going too fast to stop, can only brace himself as they collide.
It sends him sliding across the floor, Tattler submissions spilling out of his pocket like snow. He hits the ground, scrabbling for the papers, praying that whoever is here with him can't see them in the low light.
Hands grips his biceps. "Stevie, Steve, we have to get out of here" and there's a second where he's comforted by the familiar rasp of Eddie's voice before terror spikes again.
He pulls himself from Eddie's grasp, searching for any dropped submissions in easy reach. "Wha--why--what's--"
"I ran into Jason Carver and his band of idiots at the gas station. They're on their way to here to try to catch the Tattler in action."
Steve freezes. "I don't--that's not--I--"
In the deep silence of the empty school, they both hear the slamming of a door, a bitten off giggle. Eddie grabs his wrist and they run. Into the theater room, through a door Steve didn't know existed, to the backstage area of the auditorium.
"You should be safe here," Eddie says.
Panic spirals through him. "I can explain. I was just--I forgot a--I needed--"
"Harrington! I know, okay? I already know."
Steve can only blink at him, swallows rough in his throat. "What--Eddie, I--"
"I saw you. Weeks ago. Forgot my notebook in the theater room after Hellfire and had to run back for it. You were there, at the locker."
"You can't tell anyone."
"I'm not going to."
"No, Munson, you really can't. Nobody can know. Nobody--"
"Swe--Stevie, I promise. The secret's safe with me." He rocks back on his heels, chewing on his lip for a second before he continues. " I--I couldn't figure you out, you know? I saw you around with those kids and it didn't make any sense. King Steve, babysitting tiny nerds? But I saw you at the locker and..."
"You're giving me too much credit, man."
"I don't think so. You're never--fuck, Harrington--you're never mean. At least, not in the last couple years. You spread gossip, but you don't punch down, and you're funny as hell. Mean as shit too, but only to the people who deserve it."
His ears burn and he looks down. "Just because I have fucking--fucking editorial standards doesn't mean that I'm anything special."
Eddie scoffs. "Remember, Stevie, I was reading it a year before you were here. Cruel, vapid garbage. Always the most vile, pointless stories about people who couldn't defend themselves. And how many submissions have you gotten about me, for instance, that you've never used?"
Steve clenches his fists. "I would never--"
"I know. Sweetheart, I know. That's why I li--You're so fucking good, Stevie."
He laughs, ears burning. "I'm really not, Eddie. I try to write about fun gossip that can't hurt anyone too much, and nobody's found me out because they think I'm too dumb--"
Eddie reaches out then, fingers connecting softly with the edge of Steve's jaw. He can't help but lean into the touch, eyes flickering closed.
"You don't want to hurt people because you're fucking kind. You know how I know for sure? You must get submissions every week about me, and you've never once printed that I'm--" Eddie stops then, swallowing hard.
Steve's throat goes tight. He rests his hand over Eddie's, still holding his face. "Me too," he whispers. "Kind of. I like--it's both. For me."
"Oh," Eddie breathes, mouth lifting in a bright, beautiful smile that Steve can't help but return.
He's watching, sees when Eddie's gaze drifts his lips, making his breath hitch. He doesn't really think about closing the distance between them, slotting their mouths together in a tentative, gentle kiss.
"You're just full of surprises aren't you, Steve Harrington? Eddie asks when they part.
Steve blushes. "That's sort of the last of them."
"Sure. Next you'll be telling me you've played dnd."
"I have a character."
"What???"
"Human paladin. Dustin worked on it with me. Ready to get out of here?"
"Human paladin," Eddie gapes. "You know--you said--what's happening?"
Steve twines their fingers together, leading Eddie towards the auditorium exit. "Well, first we're going to walk out to my car and then we're going to my house, and we're going to look through Tattler submissions. Maybe makeout a little bit."
Eddie giggles. "What the fuck? Like. What the fuck, sweetheart?"
He turns to face Eddie, smile big and pure and bright with happiness. "If you're really nice to me, I'll let you help write this week's issue."
"Oh, oh. You're going to wreck me." Eddie mumbles, almost to himself.
"If you're lucky." Steve beams.
#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#ficlet#fluff#friends to lovers#secret identity#gossip column#first kiss#getting together#steve harrington writes a gossip column#steve harrington is lady whistledown#eddie discovers steve's secret identity#they makeout about it#obviously erica becomes the tattler when she gets to high school. obviously
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🎀💞
I just know that Simon Riley wants his face sat on🤭
nsfw below the cut 🪷 mdni
You'd always been a little shy when it came to sex, understandably so considering that your boyfriend was a real life Adonis, some kind of cruelly beautiful deity come to taunt you for your prudishness. Obviously, you and Simon had done it, you'd fucked countless times when he came back from deployments or frustrated from debriefings gone bad, but it was always, for lack of a better word, tame. You'd always assumed, given his past, that he wouldn't be down to have sex, period. The beginning of your relationship was a minefield of navigating boundaries and understanding the complexity of the beautiful man you got to share your bed with. What you foolishly failed to recognise, however, is that whist you subconsciously saw Simon as wounded, he saw your fragility as clear as day, like a ripple under the surface of clear water.
He'd aways been so impossibly gentle with you, even when you'd wanted things differently, too afraid to ask him and send Simon spiralling back into that dark place he'd only recently been pulled from.
"Want you to fuck my face." Simon's deadpan voice snaps you from your reverie, brings you back to where you lay sprawled and waiting in the centre of your shared bed.
"I'm sorry?" You barely manage to splutter, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at where he sits patiently between your knees, not even needing to look down to your panties to know that your cunt is already dripping.
"Fuck, love." The sound of his exasperated sigh makes you feel like you've done something wrong, but the almost pained crinkle of his eyes confuses you. "You need me to spell it out? I'd like you to sit on my face and let me eat you out." Simon's words make you choke, jaw hanging agape as you process the fact that not only is he willing to take such a step in your sexual relationship, but also that he's so seemingly comfortable with the idea of you essentially fucking his face. Sure, he's eaten you out before, but never in such a compromising way. "Are you -" A soft kiss being placed to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh is enough to silence you as you look down at Simon practically grovelling between your legs.
"If you don't want to, you can say no, baby." "It's not that I don't want to. I just don't want to - fuck." You huff, slumping back against the mattress with a sigh as you struggle to find the words you need to express the way you feel. "You don't want to fuck?" He smirks wickedly at you, one hand still cradling your outer thigh as he presses his cheek to the warm skin, trying to lighten the mood. Ease you up a bit. "Simon." "Tell me what you're thinking. I'll make it make sense." God he's always so unbearably patient. It almost has you in tears.
"I just - I'm not so confident with stuff like that, you know? I mean it took us six months of having sex for me to even feel comfortable enough to ride you. Now you want me to sit on your face?"
Simon's eyes soften at your reasoning, and he practically drags himself up the bed until he's face to face with you, propping himself up on his elbows to stare down at your face, so beautifully flushed and bashful.
"If you don't want to do it, that's fine, but I need you to know, that I look at you and get hard okay? You're the most beautiful thing I've seen. Ever. If I died by being suffocated between your legs? Fuckin' kill me already, yeah?"
His words have you giggling softly as you play with his hair, distracting yourself from the burning arousal in the pit of your tummy.
"Okay." You nod, slowly, meeting his eye to make sure that he sees you're serious. "You don't have to say yes if you're not sure." "I'm sure, but can we go slow?" "Of course, baby. We can do whatever you feel comfortable with."
It doesn't take long for you to be sat nervously on Simon's hips, clothes piled on the floor, discarded in order for you to sit naked atop him, bottom lip pulled nervously between your teeth. "Do I just -" You point awkwardly between the general vicinity of your cunt to Simon's face, heart fluttering when you catch the way he gazes up at you like some sort of statue, some masterpiece. "Mhm." He nods slowly, pupils blown impossibly wide, the chocolate of his gaze turning almost entirely black. You feel his massive palms take your hips, guiding you up to your knees before settling your slick cunt just over his face.
"Sit." He grunts when he doesn't immediately feel the press of you against his mouth, his nose barely touching your puffy clit. "What if I hurt you?" "I'll let you know. Now, sit." Before you know it, his fingers are digging into your hips, leaving you gasping at the suddenly overwhelming sensation of his entire lower face stuffed against your pussy.
"Holy sh-" You whine, already beginning to roll your hips in search of stimulation, all whilst Simon gives a contented hum which rumbles through you and has you clenching around nothing. His hands guide your hips in their rhythm as his tongue licks a flat stripe between your wet folds, leaving you stuttering and your eyes rolling back, all whilst you grip onto his hair like of you let go he'll disappear entirely.
He sets a languorous pace with his tongue, eating at you like you're his final meal, hands digging firmly at the meat of your ass whilst he uses the slight bump at the bridge of his nose to press up against your clit, making you dizzy. Whilst he uses both hands to guide you, you use the hand not tangled into his hair to roll a hardened nipple between your thumb and forefinger, the sensation going straight to your pussy and making you gasp. Simon, perceptive as ever, notices your want and pushes his tongue inside you to push just that little bit further - and he can tell that you're close by the way your thighs clench around his ears and the fact that you're wonderfully more vocal than usual.
Similarly, sensing your oncoming orgasm, you desperately attempt to pull yourself off of him, all of a sudden shy about cumming on his face like you haven't done it countless times before. Your wriggling is met with a small slap to your ass which has you seeing stars as the small sting snaps the elastic band stretching taut in your lower belly, and Simon laps up every bit that you'll give him.
"Didn't think that men like me got to go to heaven." Simon sighs when you both lay sprawled and happy in bed together.
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
I did not intend to write 1.1k of smut when I opened my laptop this evening but boundaries and communication are just so !! sexy !!
N e ways I'll just leave this here for y'all💕
#cod mwii#cod mw2#tf 141#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#Simon ghost Riley x f!reader#Simon ghost Riley x yn#Simon Riley x reader#simon riley x f!reader#Simon Riley x yn#Simon riley#ghost x reader#ghost x f!reader#ghost x y/n#ghost simon riley#ghost mw2#simon riley x you#ghost cod#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x y/n#simon riley cod#ghost call of duty#cod ghost#cod#cod simon riley#ghost#ghost riley#call of duty#simon riley smut#ghost smut
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Sevika is the pe teacher and reader is the English teacher and reader is sweet to all the students and everyone loves her but sevika is more on the strict side, doesn’t actually matter what’s the plot i just need teacher!sevika x teacher!reader😭🙏
HELL YES
men and minors dni
"jinx, the bell rang five minutes ago, kiddo. what class are you supposed to be in?" you ask as you walk into your classroom, blowing on your fresh cup of coffee.
this is your planning period, and you never mind having a student or two visit you, but you know jinx better than to assume she's here on her study-hall and not skipping class.
"please don't make me go, teach."
"dr. singed's chemistry class?" you guess. he's notorious for his harsh grading rubric.
jinx shakes her head. "no, no, i've got an a in chem." she huffs. "it's gym class."
you laugh. "you don't like gym? i've seen you run down the halls, you're quick as hell. figured you'd love that stuff."
"fuck no. sevika's a monster! she's making us climb ropes and do pushups-- i can barely carry my backpack to school, what makes her think i can do a fuckin' pullup!?" jinx laments.
you have to bite your cheek to keep from laughing. you gesture to the little corner of bean bags, blankets, and books in your class, then pull open your desk drawer. "you can stay. but if principal merdarda or sevika comes in here i'm tellin' her you told me it's your study hall."
"you'd rat me out?!" jinx cries. you grab one of the many bags of chips you store in your bottom drawer and toss it to her where she's getting cozy in the beanbag. she grins. "flamers, fuck yeah!"
"in exchange for my hospitality... you need to tell me why i saw your sister fighting with a cop at the gay bar last weekend." you request.
jinx gasps, her eyes lighting up in delight at a chance to gossip about vi-- a girl you taught a few years ago.
"you party at the hound?!" jinx asks with a giggle. you shrug.
"is that so shocking?"
"you're badass underneath that cardigan, huh, teach?" jinx teases. she stands from the corner and drags her beanbag across the classroom, situating herself in front of your desk and digging into her flamers. "okay, so, a year ago vi got arrested at a protest, right?" jinx starts.
you nod along in amusement at jinx's story, dividing your attention between her and the essays you're grading.
zaun high is small enough that you get to really know the kids that roam the halls for four years, and jinx comes from a big family with a gaggle of kids you've only ever adored. it's good to hear that her brothers are doing well, that vi's figuring herself out.
you blink up at jinx when she takes a pause between stories, snacking on her food. "so i hear you've made things official with ekko."
jinx turns bright red and she squeaks as she hides behind her braids. "shut up!"
"had to lock him down before he gets elected class president, huh?" you tease. jinx squawks.
"okay, well, what about a rumor i heard that you're dating another teacher here!" jinx accuses, pointing at you.
you giggle and shrug. "mmm... maybe... but you'll never guess which." you say.
jinx scoffs and rolls her eyes. "oh please, it's so obvious. you and profe ran are always giggling together." she says.
you laugh. ran, the spanish teacher, is a childhood friend of yours, but they're certainly not the person you're dating. "sure, it's ran."
jinx frowns and squints at you. "the new college councilor?" she guesses.
"ms. grayson?" you ask. jinx nods. you laugh again. "that's hilarious. isn't she married?"
jinx huffs. "well, i dunno! are you even dating anyone?"
the door slams open and you both jump, turning to look at sevika.
fuck. she looks good. you're pretty sure she's been wearing her shortest possible shorts just to tease you. she's been using the increasingly warm weather as her excuse.
"jinx! the fuck are you doing?" she glares at the teenager.
jinx jumps out of her beanbag and scrambles to collect her belongings. you giggle.
"put the beanbag back before you go."
"fuck." jinx mumbles, scrambling some more.
sevika turns her glare from her missing student to you, striding up to your desk. you bite your lip as you watch her thighs ripple with each step. "you're harboring fugitive students now?"
"she told me it was her study hall." you lie.
jinx groans. "you rat!"
sevika huffs and glares down at you. you shrug and blink up at her innocently. with a quick glance at jinx where she's stuffing her face with the rest of her chips over the garbage can, you hold up a folder to block your mouth and whisper up at your girlfriend. "my place tonight?"
sevika's glare melts for just a moment, and she gives you a half nod and a wink before tunring on her heel and smacking the chips out of jinx's hand. "c'mon, before i give you detention." she huffs, dragging jinx out of your class by her backpack.
"see you in third period, jinx!" you call. jinx giggles and waves to you. sevika flips you off over her shoulder.
taglist!!
@sevikas-baby @ghostscandys @sevikasllver @runawaybaby3 @lesbones
@chezze-its @lez-zuha @vikashoneybee @shanesevikasfuckdoll @imheadintothemountains
@nanajustnana-a @helaenabugmom
taglist!
@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner
@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther
@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart
@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette
@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp
@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner
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@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion @dancingqu33n17 @losernb @p1nkearth
#sevika#sevika arcane#sevika imagine#sevika x reader#sevika x you#soft sevika#writing teacher reader au while actively ignoring my homework is so funny#okay bye i have to work now ;aljsdf;lakjs
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I love your writing.Pls, can u do jinx gets reader to try out a lingerie 🙏


It fits you just right
Contains: suggestive themes but not exlicit smut, soft Jinx.
"Babyyy, I've got you something!" Jinx's loud voice echoes inside her hideout, catching your attention.
She has been gone for a couple of hours at least, having told you that she was going to do some of her usual mischief in Piltover. You bet she painted that town blue from head to toe.
She walks in on the helix, humming a made up song and carrying big patched sacks on her shoulders.
You get your from the couch and push away the book she so kindly took -stole- for you, following her small bouncing with your eyes. "Jinx! What have you..." she throws the bags on the ground just before your feet, their contents spilling all over the floor.
Trinkets of any type, scraps of dull metal, old cupboard sweets and clothes overflow from the linen sacks, tinkling resonating inside the room. You marvel at the many trinkets she got, turning over their glass shells and admiring the many colors reflecting on their metal surfaces. "Jinx!" you say while stuffing your hands inside the creases of a brand new coat, "where have you gotten all this stuff?!".
Her silence is enough to make you understand what she did before she even opens her mouth. "What?! They took everything from us, I'm just repaying them the favor" she moves around you and watches as you intently examine every object she took -stole, again-.
"I told you to me and to me again, you gotta stop steal-" you are rudely interrupted by her exasperated voice, "Yeah yeah I get it! I know".
Silence fills the space again, something that doesn't usually happen while Jinx is there. You look up to see her usual pale skin tone replaced by a faint pink. Her bottom lip is pressed beneath her teeth and her eyes avoid yours. You can already feel a bit of annoyance at her almost childish ways taking their place on the sides of your brain, "What is it?". A small choked sound comes from Jinx's throat, she rocks in the balls of her feet for a moment before you see her taking in a deep breath, closing her eyes and pushing a paper bag towards you. You blink your eyes a few times, surprised by her, before you take the paper bag and open it.
Inside it sits a small brown packet. The way it's nearly stored gives away that whatever is in there must be special to Jinx's standards. The brown paper is adorned with Jinx's signature drawings, colorful traces of crayons depicting small characters -mainly you two holding hands- , scenarios and hearts all over it. A pink ribbon ties everything up, completing the picture.
"Jinx, what is this?" you ask her, earning a whine from her blushing figure. "If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise, no?".
She watches in anticipation as you unite the ribbon, carefully peel the paper back and...
A set of lingerie sits in front of you, all embroidered and neatly stored. "Do you like it? It's even in my color..." Jinx's words make you realize that the set is a deep navy blue.
You snort at her words. "Really? You steal a pair of lingerie and your first thought is to search for blue ones?" she would have reacted shyly if she hadn't seen the playful smirk on your lips. "I-I mean... It's important, you know?" you walk closer to her, making sure to sway your hips as you do.
"Why? You like seeing me all pretty for you, in your favorite color?" as if she wasn't red already, blood starts to pump even faster into her veins, making her look like a tomato.
"Y-yes I do! N-now put these on!" she roughly shoves the pair against your chest, much to your amusement. "Alright, just wait here, cutie" the way your voice drags over the last word makes something inside of Jinx move, pumps blood in her heart and in her hips.
A few minutes pass by, Jinx's mind already finding new things to think about, when she hears your sing songy voice "Cominggg".
A gasp leaves her when she sees you wearing the lingerie on your skin. It's just perfect, emphasizes every curve of your body, every scar, mole or freckle visible through it: and most importantly, it's her color.
"Wow..." Jinx sits up from the couch, reaching her hand to touch your shoulders, then traveling to grab at your hips. "It fits you just right..." her eyes are glazed and cheeks pink as the ribbon she used to tie your little present up.
"Sooo? Do you like it?" you let out a gasp as her grip on your hips tightens, making you suck in a sharp breath. The way she has you at her mercy makes something pull at your heart strings.
And Jinx? She looks like an absolute mess. Pretty flushed cheeks, eyelids heavy with desire, mouth open and heart full of desire. "Like it? I fucking love it" her nose presses against the cease of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply. "You look so good in this..." she starts to press kisses, electric against your skin. "How did I ever find someone as perfect as you?" her words come out as hot as molten lava, as sweet as honey.
"Jinx..." your breaths are heavy against the unnatural cold of your home. Jinx slides her hand up to your neck, hugging you closer to her. All her newfound confidence suddenly blurs and you can feel her heartbeat through her chest on yours. Again, that shyness she harbors for you and you alone resurfaces, making her look so small against your body. She pushes her lips outwards, pouting a bit before she asks something of you.
"Could we...you know..." her voice is hoarse, creacking here and there. Deep violet eyes stare at yours, assessing if you understand her and silently waiting for an answer. "Could we...what?" you already know what she wants to ask you, but you are having far too much fun teasing her. Her eyes widen for a moment and she swallows hard, before looking at her boots. "You know...you know what I mean...".
You still aren't satisfied with your teasing, waiting for her to admit what she truly wants with words instead of embarrassed chocked sounds. "I don't think I do" that dumb smile of yours only makes Jinx feel more and more embarrassed, tempted by your lips but pulled back by her shyness. She can't do it anymore. With an exasperated whine, Jinx strengthens her grip on the back of your neck and pulls you down towards her, kissing your lips fiercely.
The kiss is all teeth and tongue, all sighs and touches, leaving you breathless and yearning for more. You pull back from her, lips wet, feeling blood rise up from your veins into your cheeks. "Woah...I guess that was enough" you say, giving her a knowing smirk and earning a sigh from her, before she brings you back to her lips. "Oh shut up toots".
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TELEMACHUS HEADCANONS — TWO — NSFW and SFW



General headcanons
This is just how he is when he's crushing on reader hdjfksjdh
Again, divider before the nsfw stuff
SFW
Crushing
- He would definitely find a reason to go around the kingdom just to look for you.
- Would definitely be so excited if he see's you in the kingdom's events and festivals that's held in the palace.
- When you first met near the palace, he was such a stuttering mess as he tried to ask what you were doing there. This like "Yeah-! I'm.. Pffsh, I've been here alot!" Which you thought was funny because he was being obvious.
- Would let you drag him anywhere in the kingdom, especially by the sea side, as long as he's with you.
- Whenever you two watch the sunset, he'd watch you instead. But quickly turn away when you look over at him, trying to be discreet.
- Didn't know you were oblivious to his feelings, that's why he tried to many times to make you see he likes you.
- Yet you still thought you were out for his league, that's why you kept denying it.
- The first time you complimented him with a simple, "that color suits you!" He turns into a stuttering mess.
- Ever since that compliment, he wore that color almost everyday, making his servants wash the cloth so he could wear it again.
- Little things he liked to do was help you put on your brooch. Sometimes you want to wear your chiton in a way it almost hugs your body, but not too much, so he gave you a cute little brooch that was metal leaf, and since you couldn't reach your back as well enough, he helps you fix it.
- Just a simple, "Telemachus, could you help me with something?" He would immediately rush towards you, saying yes without even knowing what you want him to do.
- Asked Athena LOAADS of times, how to confess to you.
- And Athena said over and over, "I'm not Aphrodite."
- Telemachus would ask about your hobbies and immediately start learning about them so he could relate to you on a certain level.
- Whenever he does do them, you get warm inside because he's committing to what you like.
- Would be a sucker and learn to paint just to paint you.
- Spoiler alert, he managed to learn with the help of his mother.
- There was a time when he couldn't get his feelings straight, he started to fully avoid you, not inviting you to the palace anymore, not meeting you at the side of the palace, to the point you just thought he didn't enjoy your company, so you stopped going also.
- When he noticed that you didn't try to talk to him, he immediately missed your presence and rushed towards the kingdom to find you.
- When he did, he apologized so many times, almost going on his knees on that point.
- He's just really sorry that he stopped talking to you without an explanation.
- That was also when he accidentally said, "You just kept ignoring my signs, and I thought you didn't like me, but in reality, I'm in love with you, Y/n!" Not being able to control his emotions.
- Was so happy he started to cry on your stomach when you told him you felt the same.
NSFW
- Definitely had so many wet dreams about you, to the point he's embarrassed to have a sleep over with you
- he once accidentally saw you bathing in the river where you two meet up in the forest sometimes, and he implemented that image in his head and masterbated to.
- Never told you about that since he was embarrassed, but whenever he felt needy while he was with you, he would start remembering wmehat your body looked like nude.
- He would definitely sketch you nude when you're not around, and hides it form Athena and his mother, cause of course, inappropriate.
- One Wet dream, he was moaning softly in his sleep, to the point Penelope had to knock on his door to see if he was doing the tango.
I'm sorry for my other followers that want my other works like creepypasta, I'm still in my epic the musical high🙌
#epic the musical#telemachus epic the musical#telemachus x reader#telemachus#telephone#telemachus epic the musical x reader#telemachus Headcanons#𝄞♩♪serxa posts
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LOVE YOU FROM THE START- CHRIS STURN



summary: more bff!chris and bff!y/n and a bit of bf!chris and gf!y/n headcannons
cw: fluff, slight cursing, a pinch of angst ntm, very minimal smut
an: tysm to @probablyoutyappingorsomething and this anon for all of these ideas💋 | lowercase intended
masterlist
-----------------------------------------------
bff!chris who loves tickling you to make you laugh
"chris! stop it!" y/n cant stop laughing as chris' fingers dig into her sides and tickle her. chris also giggling and smiling so hard that he gets to hear her laugh and he's the one who's making her laugh and smile. "okay, okay!" chris' fingers eventually stop tickling her and he rolls on top of her and smothers her face in kisses, missing her lips.
bff!chris who always buys her online shopping carts without her knowledge
"oh my god no!" y/n whines, rubbing her hands over her face in disappointment, her laptop placed on top of her blanket. "what is it? what happened, hm?" chris asks worriedly. "my sephora cart! it's gone, i was going to buy it right now!" she goes to the sephora search bar and starts searching up the products she remembered she had in her cart. "wait, don't do it." chris stops her and grabs the laptop from her. "what? why not." she tries to look at the screen but he moves it from her view. "because," chris flips the screen back to her and shows her an online receipt. "i bought it for you when you were showering." he continues. y/n gasps. "chris, you didn't! it was almost three hundred dollars." she looks at his in disbelief.
"your package got here!" chris enters y/n's room. "my package? i didn't order anything." she's confused. "you didn't, i did. but, it's for you. i bought your amazon cart." y/n swats his arm. "chris! what'd i tell you about buying my cart without telling me." she grabs the huge box from him and opens it up. "thank you though."
bff!chris who takes y/n on many shopping sprees
"come on, it'll be fun!" chris drags her through the mall. "you know i don't like spending your money." chris groans. "i've told many times, i don't care! i'll buy you a fucking house and i wont complain! i love spoiling you." he wraps his arm around her shoulders. "fine, let's go to bath and body works first!" she soon gives in.
"i'd say this was a successful shopping trip!" chris lightly kicks y/n's room door open and places her many shopping bags down. "thank you for my new stuff chris, how can i pay you back?" y/n says. "i can think of a few ways." chris smirks and wraps his hands around her waist. "you dirty animal! not like that!" she throws her head back and laughs.
bff!chris who takes the opportunity to pretend to give y/n backshots whenever she's bent down
"i felt that!" y/n scolds chris when she feels a small gust of wind coming from behind her as she tries to grab a new sponge from under the sink. "not sure what you're talking about." chris acts clueless.
"boom! boom! boom!" chris grabs y/n's hips as she's bent over and pretends to give her backshots. "chris! you're so stupid!" she laughs as she's used to his behavior. "stupid for you." he lets her go and places a kiss on her neck.
bff!chris who teases you when you two are filming for his channel with his brothers
"behave." y/n mutters to chris once they're out of the frame from the camera. "but you look so good in this." he whispers and runs his hands over her ass in her shorts. chris, throughout the video, has been rubbing his hands over her ass and y/n is concerned that nick will miss it while editing and fans will take notice of them.
"and today we're here with y/n and we're going to be-" nick says and chris hugs y/n from behind and grabs her boobs for a second before letting go. "chris! i'm going to have to cut that out! let's redo the intro."
bff!chris who give you his honest opinions on your outfits and accessories
"okay, what about with this necklace?" y/n turns back around and shows chris the new necklace on her neck. chris, laying against her headboard, looks her up and down seeing if the necklace matches. "mm, i think the second one is better. this one is so thin and you can't really see it. i almost ignored it like you ignore my love for you."
"absolutely not." chris shakes his head at the shirt y/n is currently trying on. "yeah, i thought so." y/n looks down at the shirt as if it's going to magically change and look any better. "looks like something my eighty year old neighbor would wear." y/n gasps and they both look a girl who is walking into the changing room going to try on some clothes wearing the same exact shirt. "chris!" she covers her mouth and locks herself in the changing room leaving chris on his own.
"yes, this one looks so good on you!" chris immediately gets up as he sees her in a tight fitting dress. "look at you, holy fuck." he rubs his hands up and down her figure. "thank you, i'm guess you love it?" she looks up at him. "oh yeah." he pushes her into the tiny room.
bff!chris who will sit and yap with you for hours on end
"and i told him, no you're fucking crazy if you think i'm touching that snake!" chris tells y/n a story of what happened on his hike with his friends and they encounter a small snake. "remember when we accidentally kissed?" he forgets all about the snake talk and moves onto another topic.
"really? tell me more about it." chris looks into her eyes as she takes chris about a time where she was into pottery. "i have a few pieces in my family storage unit. maybe we can go one day and i'll show you. i think there's this one piece you'll like and you can have it." she fixed his earring as it moved out of place. "i'll keep all of 'em if i have the chance to."
bff!chris getting jealous when he sees you talking or laughing with another guy who isn't him
"who was that you were just talking to?" chris says in an angry tone. "not sure, he just came up to me and started talking to me." she says casually. "well i don't like him." y/n sighs. "chris you don't even know him." she says.
"woah, calm down. looks like you're about to explode." matt says next to him as chris looks at y/n talking to one of her guy friends. she's told chris about max, one of her old friends, and how close they used to be. "am not." he lies, feeling jealousy all over him. he then sees y/n wave him over and he goes up to him. "chris, this is max. max, this is chris." max sticks his hand out for chris to shake it. "it's nice to finally put a face to name, she's told me so much about you." max says and y/n blushes. "hush!"
bff!chris introducing y/n as 'his girl' to new people
"y/n! come, let me introduce you to some people i just met." chris says in her ear as he finally found her. "okay!" she grabs his hand and follows behind him. "guys! look, this is my girl, y/n." he puts a hand on her waist and y/n blushes at what he just called her.
bff!chris doing anything and everything to make her smile when she's upset
"come on, give me smile. please?" chris hovers over her, trying to pull her hands away from her face. "noo!" she whines. "please? just a small one." he finally manages to remove her hands. "look how pretty you are." that makes her break out in a smile. "there she is." chris smiles. "i promise you, that grade doesn't define you, okay? that professor doesn't know what he's talking about."
bff!chris overhearing y/n tell his brothers she doesn't like him, but he misses something.
chris could help but eavesdrop on y/n's conversation with his brothers. he was currently standing on the stairs behind the wall. "so, do you like him?" he hears matt's voice. "i- uhm, i don't know? no?" chris' heart breaks and he freezes for a couple of seconds before turning back and slowly walks down the stairs back into his room. however, y/n continues. "fine! yes, i do, i fucking love him. i'm just scared to tell him." back in his room, chris sniffles into his pillow. the girl who he has major feeling for doesn't like him back. was she just leading him on the entire time?
bff!chris ignoring y/n after overhearing what she said
"hi, i'm back." y/n comes back down happier than usual. chris stays silent on his phone. "wanna watch a movie or something?" she says, plopping down in her usual spot on his bed. he ignores her. "chris? do you want to watch a movie?" she tries once more, maybe he didn't hear her. "hello? earth to chris?"
bff!chris and bff!y/n expressing their love for each other
it's been an hour of chris ignoring y/n and he finally break the silence. "i heard you up there. heard what you said." he mumbles. "you heard me? like everything?" she questions. he nods. "oh i heard everything, alright." he says. "then why are you ignoring me, i thought you'd be happy." chris finally snaps. "happy? why the fuck would i be happy? you clearly told my brother you don't like me after all these years of me flirting with you? we fucking kissed for crying out loud! were you just leading me on?" he gets up from off the bed and runs his hand through his hair. "what?! no, chris you missed the part where i clearly said i was scared of telling you that i love you!" she says back. "what?" chris says, pausing his movements. "i said no at first because i was scared of admitting it. but then i said i do, i love you, chris." she gets up off the bed and walks to him. "i feel so stupid, oh my god." he groans into his hands. "i love you too, y/n."
bf!chris who can finally show y/n how much he loves her
"can i?" chris kisses down her neck. "can i show you how much i fucking love you?" he nips at her sweet spot making her let out a soft moan. "yes, please. please show me."
"mm, you feel so good around me, baby." chris groans into her neck. her nails scratching down his back. "fuck- keep- keep going." y/n gasps as she feels the familiar knot in her lower belly. "gonna come for me, hm?" she can only nod.
gf!y/n who overhears bf!chris telling her mom he wants to marry her
"you really love her don't you?" y/n hears her moms voice in the kitchen. she had came down because chris was taking a bit to long from getting water. "i do, i really do." she stands behind the wall that goes into the kitchen feeling bad for overhearing this conversation. "i want to marry her one day." y/n gasps quietly and smiles. she goes back upstairs once he mentions that he's going to head on up. once he enters the room he sees y/n slightly out of breath and smiley. "you head me down there didn't you?" he throws himself on top of her. "maybe." she giggles. "i really mean it, okay?" he kisses her lips. "okay, i agree with you too. i want to marry you."
#chris sturniolo headcanon#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#chris sturiolo fanfic#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris x y/n#chris x reader#chris smut#chris sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#nicolas sturniolo#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt x reader#matthew sturniolo x you#matthew sturniolo angst#matthew sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo headcanon#matthew sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#matt x y/n#matthew sturniolo fluff#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#sturniolo fanfic
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Mha "could've been canon" quotes/scenarios
Fake Deku: *walks into the common room and over to Katsuki*
Fake Deku: "Hey Bakugou! Want to go spa-"
Half of class 1 a: *suddenly jumps the fake deku*
Fake Deku: "Wait! What are you guys doing! Get off me!"
Ochako: "Cut the bullshit, we know you're not Deku"
Fake Deku: *detransforms into some random villain*
Villain: "But how? I haven't done anything out of the ordinary!"
Todoroki: "Midoriya never calls Bakugou, Bakugou"
Tenya: "In fact we're not entirely sure he knows how to say Bakugo's real name"
Katsuki: Besides, danger sense would have alerted Izuku before everyone jumped you and gotten out of the way. So really you're just stupid"
Jirou: "Wait, sense this guy isn't Deku-"
Momo: "Where's the real one!?"
●●●●●●●
Meanwhile at the villain's hideout:
Izuku: "So you see, you can be whatever you want to be, you don't have to be a villain"
Villain 1: *sniffling* "That's so deep man"
Villain 2: *crying* "No one's ever told us that before! Thank you!"
Villain 3: *sobbing uncontrollably* "Thank you so much! Im gonna turn my whole life around now, I promise!"
Villain 4: *sitting in a corner contemplating their life choices and having a mental crisis*
Izuku: *slightly flustered* "There's really no need to thank me! You guys should have been told all this from the beginning!"
All four villains: *thinking* 'And he's humble too!'
●●●●●●●
Back at UA:
Aizawa: "So you mean to tell me he's been missing for FIVE HOURS!?"
Katsuki: *frustrated sigh* Yeah"
Aizawa: *insert groan of dissapointed and frustration*
Aizawa's phone: *rings*
Aizawa: "What!?"
Villain 1: "Um, is this Erasurehead?"
Aizawa: "Yes, what do want? I'm in the middle of important business!"
Villain 1: "Well, you see, we have one of your students, Midoriya, and we want to know where we should drop him off at?"
Aizawa: "...."
Aizawa: "What do mean 'drop him off at'"?
Villain 1: Well, he kind of gave us a talk about how we don't need to be villains and now we all feel bad about the stuff we did and want to give him back to you"
Aizawa: *sighs tiredly while dragging his hand down his face*
Aizawa: "Meet me at the abandoned choclate factory over on 15th street"
Villain 1: "Okay! Yeah, we can do that and I just want to say how sorry we are for kidnapping him! We're fully expecting to be arrested when we get there, so don't worry about us putting up a fight"
Aizawa: *sighs tiredly and hangs up*
Katsuki who listened to the whole conversation on speaker phone: "So he did it again?"
Aizawa: "Yup."
Katsuki: "And now you have to call the police and do more paperwork than you want to?"
Aizawa: "Yup."
Katsuki: "Want me to go with you to pick him up or..."
Aizawa: "Yes, lord knows he's gonna need someone to talk to on the way back and I cannot deal with him right now."
Katsuki: "So... what do we do with this guy?"
Katsuki: *jabs finger towards the shapeshifing villain who is tied and gagged with sero's tape snd spewing muffled curses at them*
Aizawa:"Hand him over to campus security and let them take care of him"
Katsuki: *nods and drags the screaming villain out the door with him*
Aizawa: "Im getting too old for this"
●●●●●
Later at the abandoned Chocolate Factory:
Aizawa, Katsuki, and a handful of cops walk into the Factory:
Izuku: *jumping up and down while waving his hand*
Cops: *rush over to arrest the villains*
Izuku: "Sensei! Kacchan!! Over here!"
Katsuki: "We know, idiot! We aren't blind!"
Villain 1 being arrested: *whispering* That's 'Kacchan'? I thought he'd be nicer"
Villains 2-4 also being arrested: *nod in agreement*
Izuku: *bounds over to Aizawa and Katsuki*
Izuku: "Sensei! Kacchan! You're not going to believe the day I've had!"
Izuku: *begins rambling*
Aizawa looks tiredly at Katsuki: "You take care of him, I have a big enough headache as it is"
Katsuki: *nods and turns back to listen to Izuku's rant and scold him for being reckless and getting in trouble again*
■■■■■■■
#So this started out as the first two segments#And then it kind of spiraled from there#😅#mha#mha incorrect quotes#bnha#bakudeku#Kind of?#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#bakugou katsuki#izuku midoriya#Izuku Midoriya is the problem child#Izuku Midoriya problems#This boy can't go anywhere witnout something happening to him#aizawa shouta#dadzawa#Tired dad Shouta#class 1a#Izuku definitely can't pronounce “Katsuki”#bakugo katsuki#midoriya izuku#bkdk#Mha “could've been canon” quotes/scenarios#Izuku has talk-no-jit-tsu#He definitely watched naruto as a kid#And now thinks that's how you're supposed to deal with most villains#He also knows that if that doesn't work you should just summon your power and beat the crap out of them
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"are you like... into that?"
you tear your eyes away from the screen a few seconds after rintarou says it, too rapt by what's unfolding in the movie scene to look away too soon.
"what do you mean?" you ask, glancing over to the other end of the sofa where he's seated. he's slumped down in the corner of the sofa, nestled right into the valley between the cushions where he always sits—which has resulted in a permanent sort of vaguely rintarou-shaped indentation that you hide using throw pillows when company comes over.
he's watching you very intently from his side of the sofa, too intently almost. you'd thought you'd felt his eyes on you while you were watching the movie, but you aren't exactly sure how long he's been staring, and now it leaves you wondering what exactly he's up to.
rintarou nods towards the television on the other side of the room, you look back at the screen once more and see the male lead still at the centre of the scene. he'd just gotten into a fight—shirtless, glistening with perspiration, and a strangely erotic trickle of blood trailing down his philtrum. you swallow a little as you become engrossed in the movie again, forgetting momentarily that you were ever asked a question at all.
"so?"
your eyes snap back to rintarou—who's still focused only on you, but with a slightly more disapproving look this time.
"what?" you ask him, a bit huffily. you're still not even sure what he'd been asking you in the first place.
"you've been ogling that guy since he got the shit kicked out of him," rintarou says pointedly, lifting a hand and gesturing towards the television. "you into that or something?"
there's something kind of accusatory in his tone.
"wha—hu—no," you stumble over your words in your haste to defend yourself. "i've told you i'm not into hardcore stuff. and that would constitute like... doctorate level BDSM."
rintarou's lips purse slightly. "do you think that guy's hot?"
"i mean... yeah," you answer after contemplating it for a moment. "i didn't really think so before but he's kinda sexy in this scene."
"he just got the shit kicked out of him," the boy at the other end of the sofa responds flatly.
"so you've pointed out," you answer. you turn back to the screen, watching as the battered male lead winds a roll of bandages around his ribs, then drags his knuckles roughly across his lips to clear away some of the blood that clings to them. your tongue peeks out to moisten your own unconsciously. "don't you think there's something kind of hot about a guy with a bit of blood on him?"
"is this a trick question?"
you look back at rintarou again, and find him still fixated on you rather than the film. he's pouting a bit, and it kind of makes you want to laugh. instead, you push yourself up from your own little nest at the opposite end of the sofa, crawling down towards him.
"rintarou, are you jealous because i called the bloody guy sexy?" you ask him as you pause at his side, resting back on your haunches.
he nibbles on the inside of his cheek—a habit he's had as long as you've known him—and for the first time in possibly the entire 54 minutes this movie has been playing, he averts his eyes from you.
"...no."
you do laugh then, swinging one leg over his lap to perch yourself atop him.
"you're being silly," you say to him as you balance yourself with your hands on his shoulders. his own come slithering up to settle at your waist, and his grip is a little tighter than you expect. he's still sulking though, refusing to look at you.
there's a loud crash in the film playing on the screen behind you, but you don't turn to look at it—you doubt that would help the situation at hand very much.
"rin," you coax him, making your voice as sweet as possible.
he doesn't look at you, but he does seem to bite the inside of his cheek a little harder now.
you dip down close to him, your mouth hovering over his and your eyes level. "rin-ta-rou."
he finally looks at you, his lips parting in surprise at your sudden nearness. you're so close that your mouths brush slightly thanks to that subtle movement, and he leans into the warmth of your lips to kiss you properly after getting such a small taste of it.
rintarou pulls away after one long, deep kiss, slouching back into the sofa again—but this time pulling you down with him into his little him-shaped indentation—holding you tightly to his chest as he gets you both comfortable. you let him maneuver you however he wants to, placating him with your docility to make him feel better, and keeping any comment about his jealousy to yourself—at least for now.
the two of you eventually find a comfortable way to rest, entwined together on his end of the sofa but both with a clear view to the screen to resume your spectating of the movie.
"what's so hot about a guy with a nosebleed anyway? i used to get them all the time when i was a kid," rintarou mumbles bitterly after a few moments, and you feel the words reverberate through his chest as you rest with your head upon it.
you laugh lightly, and your boyfriend's arms tighten around your waist.
he pipes up again after a few moments more pass in the film.
"you don't want me to start fighting or anything, do you?" he asks you skeptically.
you've effectively lost track of the movie's plot now, but you don't really care that much.
"no, rintarou, i don't want you to start fighting," you reply, patting his chest reassuringly. "you'd get your ass kicked anyway."
"well, apparently you're into that," he mutters.
"will you be quiet and just watch the movie, nosebleed boy?"
(a week later, rintarou sends you a photo from practice—having gracefully taken one of motoya's receives to the face—with an angry red welt on his cheek, blood dripping from his nose, and an obnoxious smirk on his lips. unfortunately, you are kinda into that.)
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as long as i live
paige bueckers x azzi fudd
summary: inspired by jensen mcrae's massachusetts
rated: teen
4.9k words
disclaimer: fictional!
notes: well! i'm not exactly coming out of retirement, but according to google docs i started writing this in june 2024 which seems wild to me. i pushed myself to finish it up so i could post it for you guys, if anyone's even still interested in reading my stuff. it's a bit different from stuff i've written before but i hope you guys like it anyways. listen to the song while you read, it's great :)
[AO3 LINK]
When someone tells me they're from Massachusetts, now I always ask, "What part?"
“So, where are you from?”
Part of Azzi cringes inside as she asks such a cliche and boring question, but this is the second blind date she’s been on in the past month, and her social battery is at an all time low. At this point, her date is lucky that she isn’t talking about the weather.
“Born and raised in Minnesota, but I moved out here after college for work.” Her date, Savannah, takes a sip of water, tongue darting out to catch a stray drop that hangs off the corner of full lips.
Minnesota. Azzi feels her heart stutter at the word.
“Oh, where in Minnesota?”
“It’s a small town, you’ve probably never heard of it.”
It doesn’t even matter, but Azzi wants to know, needs to know.
“Falcon Heights. It’s where the-“
“The State Fair.” Azzi interrupts. “That’s where the State Fair is held.”
“You’ve heard of it?”
“I’ve been before, I had a…” Azzi hesitates for just a moment too long. “A friend from Minnesota. We used to go every year.”
“Maybe I can take you back someday.” Savannah smiles flirtatiously, but it drops when she sees how Azzi is staring off into the distance, unresponsive and trapped in a memory long since passed.
Azzi gags as she watches Jose bend over a trash can, emptying the contents of his stomach after a clearly too intense roller coaster.
Their mom rubs a hand along his back as he finally straightens up, face pale and sweaty.
“I guess this is a good time to finish up our night.”
They’ve been at the State Fair for over 12 hours at this point, and even though the place is still fairly packed, Jose and Jon have been visibly flagging for a while, and Jose’s sickness is a clear sign for them to start heading home.
“But we haven’t even gone on the ferris wheel yet.” Azzi complains, pouting.
“The line looks long, honey. I’m not sure your brothers will make it.”
“I’ll stay with her.” Paige pipes up. “And my dad can pick us up after we’re done.”
Azzi bounces excitedly on her heels, gripping Paige’s arm with both hands.
“Please, please, please?”
Tim and Katie exchange a look, clearly having an unspoken discussion. Soon Tim shrugs, leaving the decision up to his wife.
“She’ll be safe with me, Mrs. Fudd.” Paige says, so sweetly earnest in the way only a 16 year old can be. She still hasn’t gotten used to calling Azzi’s parents by their first names.
“Oh, I know that, sweetheart. I’m just worried about what sorts of trouble she might get you into.”
Katie laughs as Azzi sticks her tongue at her.
“Okay, fine. Just keep an eye on your phones in case we need to get a hold of you.”
“Thank you!” Azzi gives her parents kisses goodbye and hugs her little brothers before grabbing Paige by the hand and dragging her over to the ferris wheel.
She’s so excited to ride that she doesn’t notice how quiet Paige is. Her friend normally hardly shuts up, but Azzi doesn’t realize how unlike herself Paige is acting until they’re being ushered into the gondola.
The metal car creaks loudly as it moves, sending them slowly up into the sky.
“Paige? Are you okay?”
Paige’s hands are tight around the metal lap bar, fingers pale as she squeezes it tight.
“Yeah!” She says, squeaking when they jolt to a sudden stop, about halfway to the top.
“Are you afraid of heights?” Azzi asks, almost incredulously. Paige isn’t afraid of anything. She’s always ready to jump in head first, with hardly a thought to the consequences. They’d already ridden most of the roller coasters here without a problem.
“Hell no!”
Azzi might be more convinced if her eyes weren’t squeezed shut as they started moving again.
“Why’d you agree to come on if you’re so scared?”
“You wanted to.”
Azzi feels blood rush to her face. She smiles shyly in response. No one has ever made her feel as special as Paige does, like everything she says matters. She presses close to Paige’s side as the ferris wheel screeches to a stop at the top.
The view is spectacular. The lights from the rides, nothing compared to the brightness of the stars above them. But Azzi doesn’t look.
“Hey.”
She reaches over and grabs Paige’s hand with her left hand, pulling it from the bar and intertwining their fingers. With her right hand, she reaches up to gently grasp Paige’s chin.
“Don’t look out there. Just look at me.”
Paige’s eyes flutter open. Azzi’s mouth feels dry suddenly. She licks her lips watching as Paige’s gaze darts from Azzi’s eyes to her lips and back again.
Her eyes shine under the light of the moon. They’re beautiful. Paige is so beautiful. Azzi’s heart pounds in her chest. This moment feels more dangerous than sitting hundreds of feet in the air with only a bar of metal keeping you safe.
Paige leans in, so slow that Azzi knows she could pull away if she wanted to. She doesn’t. She leans in the rest of the way instead, and puts her heart in Paige Bueckers’ hands.
//
I wonder if you kept the pilgrim ashtray if it's still propped up on your bar cart
“You’re home pretty early, how was it?”
Colleen had called Azzi almost as soon as she had stepped through the door, which told Azzi that she had likely been checking her location through the night. She had been encouraging about it when Azzi had told her that a teammate was setting her up with a friend of theirs, someone from outside the basketball world.
But Azzi knows Colleen is still holding out hope that she and Paige are meant to be. She hasn’t mentioned her to Azzi in months, not since the last time she’d had to comfort a drunk Azzi who had broken down just from hearing her name.
“It was fine. I fucked it up, the usual.”
Azzi pops the fridge open, pulling out a bottle of wine and grabbing the bottle opener on the door. The bottle opens with a pop and Azzi pours a full glass, takes a few big sips from it, before filling it again.
“Oh, babe. What happened?”
How can she explain that the mere mention of Paige’s home state had sent her into a spiral and that she’d had to make a stupid excuse to leave and now probably wouldn’t be able to face her teammate without making a fool of herself.
“No biggie. We just weren’t compatible.” She takes another swig of wine. “I’m just gonna take a bath and go to bed.”
“Okay, Azzi. I love you. You know I’m always here if you wanna talk.”
“Love you too.” Azzi doesn’t know how she would have gotten through these past two years without her.
Azzi heads into the bathroom, running the faucet to fill the tub. She goes to light one of the many scented candles she’s been gifted over the years, this one that claims to release a relaxing scent, just what she needs tonight.
The lighter sputters weakly and doesn’t ignite. With a sigh, she heads back into the kitchen, digging into the junk drawer where she knows she has seen a box of matches.
She finally finds it under a pile of old charging cables, but stops short when she sees what’s printed on it. It’s faded and worn, but the word Ted’s is still visible.
She rubs her thumb over it. This pack of matches has somehow made the journey from Storrs all the way to her home in San Francisco.
Azzi slides the cover off. There’s only one match left inside.
The candle goes unlit. The match untouched.
“Who wants shots!” Paige’s voice echoes through the bar.
It’s Azzi’s first time at Ted’s as an official member of the team, and Paige is clearly dedicating herself to making sure she has the best possible time.
Azzi isn’t sure she’s seen Paige stop smiling since she moved into the dorms, and it must be infectious, because the butterflies in her stomach haven’t rested since the moment Paige showed up at her door to help move her in.
“Paige, relax!” Christyn says, patting Paige on the head and laughing when Paige swats her away to fix her displaced hair.
“Here we go!” Liv comes back to the table holding a tray full of shots.
The team gathers around, each taking a hold of one of the glasses.
“To our new teammates. Welcome to UConn, and let’s win a national championship. Go Huskies!” They all throw back their shots at once.
A few hours later, as Azzi dances with Caroline and Amari, Paige comes bouncing up to them, slipping her arms around Azzi’s waist and swaying behind her.
She presses her face into the side of Azzi’s neck. “Come outside with me for a sec. Nika gave me a lil’ somethin’ if you wanna try.”
Azzi nods and lets Paige lead her outside by the hand. It’s a lot less crowded outside, and the light breeze feels good against her sweat slicked skin.
Paige guides her to a more secluded corner where a lone picnic table sits underneath some fairy lights strung along the patio. Paige sits with the bench between her legs, pulling Azzi to sit next to her.
She pulls out a joint and wiggles her eyebrows at Azzi.
“You wanna?”
Azzi had never dared to try it in high school with her parents always around, but she wants to now. The season doesn’t start for months, and practice not for another week. She nods, eagerly. She knows that there’s no safer person for her to try this with than Paige, who would never let her get hurt.
Paige passes the joint over. “Hold this for me for a sec.”
She pulls out a fresh box of matches, pulling one out and lighting it with a quick flick of her wrist. She holds it to the tip until it glows.
“Go ahead.”
Azzi hesitates for a moment. “I just breathe in?”
“Mmhm.” Paige nods, watching with rapt attention as Azzi brings the joint up to her lips and inhales.
A hacking cough bursts out of her throat before the smoke can even hit her lungs.
Paige laughs as she rubs Azzi’s back.
“Don’t laugh at me,” she chokes out when she can finally breathe.
“Okay, okay,” Paige holds up her hands in apology. “Here, let’s try another way.”
She takes hold of the joint, sliding closer until their legs are touching. She brings it to her lips, inhaling deeply and holding the smoke in her chest. Then she leans in, giving Azzi a chance to pull away. When she edges just a bit closer instead, Paige seals their lips together, exhaling when Azzi’s mouth opens against hers.
She keeps them pressed together until she feels Azzi breathe in deep. When she pulls back, Paige keeps their foreheads pressed together.
“How was that?” She asks, voice raspy.
In response, Azzi just hooks a hand around Paige’s neck and kisses her again.
//
Could make a grand off of the chain you bought me, but goddamn, it's not for sale
“Azzi!”
Azzi barely has a moment to steel herself before Nika nearly bowls her over in a hug.
“I’ve missed you so much.” Azzi says, returning the hug. They hadn’t seen each other since the last time their teams had matched up, but with both teams now out of playoff contention, they had decided to get dinner while Nika was in town.
They spend the night catching up, telling stories and reminiscing about old times, both often changing the subject when it approached the elephant in the room.
When they’re both three cocktails deep, Nika finally asks, “Do you think you’ll go to the Finals?”
Azzi knows that the girls have been planning a reunion to see Paige play in her first Finals. She’s sure that it hasn’t gone unnoticed that she hasn’t said anything in the group chat.
“Of course.”
She hadn’t told anyone, but she’d booked the ticket the minute the Lynx had clinched their series. Nothing could keep her away. Her hand goes up to fiddle with her necklace subconsciously.
“That’s great, Azzi. I know she wants you there, more than anything.”
Nika’s eyes flicker down to where her fingers are toying with the chain. She drops her hand. The charm bounces against her chest. To this day, she can’t explain why she still wears it, just that it’s become like a part of her.
The first thing that Azzi notices when she wakes up, is that there’s someone asleep beside her. It isn’t the strangest occurrence in this house. Sometimes one of her brothers will fall asleep next to her, or one of the dogs will come in seeking her warmth.
But this body is pressed against her back, a heavy arm slung around her waist. Even the way their breath puffs against her neck is familiar. But the only person Azzi wants to be sharing a bed with is hundreds of miles away, so Azzi turns to lay on her back, her wrapped leg only protesting a little. A wave of blonde hair covers her face.
“What?” She whispers, because this shouldn’t be possible. She swears she had just fallen asleep talking with Paige about the team’s resounding victory in Aaliyah’s home country.
Her phone still rests next to her head. When she wakes the screen up, there’s one unread message from the night before.
Paige💗
See you soon, baby 💗😘
She nudges at Paige’s side, suddenly too impatient to wait for her to wake up. Paige groans, but she opens her eyes, blinking blearily and clearly exhausted. She smiles wide when she sees Azzi.
“Hey.”
“What the fuck?” Azzi murmurs, still a little bit stunned, and presses close to kiss Paige deeply.
“Never been happier to miss a night of sleep.” Paige says when they part, smirking.
Azzi whacks her on the shoulder, but gives her another light peck. “What are you doing here?”
“I missed you. Merry Christmas.”
Azzi is leaning in to kiss her again when her dad’s voice comes echoing down the stairs. “If y’all are awake, breakfast is almost ready.”
“Okay!”
Azzi throws the blanket off of her body, sitting up.
“Hold on a sec.” Paige walks over to where her duffel bag has been dumped by the door, digging through it.
She walks back and sits down next to Azzi, holding onto a black box.
“I know Christmas isn’t actually for a few days, but I can’t wait any longer.”
Azzi takes the box in her hands, feeling the softness of the velvet under her fingers. She opens it to reveal a silver heart encrusted with diamonds dangling from a delicate chain. It looks a lot like a necklace that already sits in her jewelry box, except this one has an infinity symbol embedded within the heart.
Azzi feels choked up all of a sudden. The meaning of the symbol is not lost on her. She puts the box down on her lap and raises a hand to cup Paige’s cheek.
“I love it. I love you.”
Paige leans their foreheads together. “It’s a forever kinda thing. Just like us.”
//
You broke me to pieces, but I root for you even though everything went up in flames
The buzzer sounds, and the Minnesota crowd is silent. It’s the end of the third quarter, and the Liberty are leading the Lynx by seventeen. Even from up in the suite, Azzi can see how bad Paige’s body language is, how she’s already beating herself up for the loss even though there’s still ten minutes left in the game.
The camera focuses on Paige, seated at the bench, staring off into the distance even as her coach speaks in the huddle. Azzi stands suddenly, startling KK.
“Where are you going?”
“I have to get down there.” She’s not quite sure how she’ll get to the bench, but she’ll figure it out when she gets there.
Luckily when she makes it down there, she bumps into Paige’s agent Lindsay, who greets her with a hug.
“Azzi!” She looks surprised to see Azzi. “What are you doing down here? I thought you and the other girls were up in one of the boxes.”
“Hey.” She replies, distractedly. “Do you think you could get me courtside?”
Lindsay gives her a slightly pitying look. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“I know it is.” Azzi says, absolutely certain. She knows, at least, that she has to try.
Lindsay leads her to her seat, just a few rows behind the home bench. The Lynx have cut the lead to thirteen, but there’s still a steep hill to climb with less than half a quarter of the game left. When one of the Liberty passes skips out of bounds, the Paige’s coach calls a timeout to steady the team.
Paige stomps back to the bench, clearly frustrated and lifts her jersey to wipe the sweat from her face. As she reaches the bench, she finally looks up, eyes locking with Azzi’s. She freezes.
Azzi smiles at her, and taps a hand on her chest where the number 5 rests proudly on her chest.
“Breathe.” She mouths. “You got this.”
Paige finally blinks. Azzi sees her take a deep breath, and then another. She nods at Azzi before taking a seat on the bench and listening as her coach speaks. Then she’s sticking her head in the huddle and taking charge.
Her teammates all watch with attention, swept up in her emotions. Azzi misses it sometimes, the way Paige could make you believe you could accomplish anything just because she believed in you.
The buzzer goes off, signaling the end of the timeout. As she heads back onto the floor, Paige turns back toward Azzi. She rests a hand over her heart and then points back to Azzi. Her teammate inbounds the ball to her.
In the remaining minutes, Paige outscores the Liberty all by herself, and the Lynx come back to win game one.
“Congratulations, Ms. Rookie of the Year.”
Azzi steps up to Paige, wrapping her arms around her neck and leaning in to kiss her. Paige has been talking with the press all day, and Azzi hasn’t seen her since she left the apartment this morning.
Paige turns her head, and Azzi’s lips land on her cheek as she turns her head to check one end of the hallway, and then the other. They can hear the sound of a door opening in the distance, and Paige flinches minutely.
Azzi drops her arms and steps back, eyes focusing on the ground.
“Hey.” Paige looks down, making eye contact with her. “I’m sorry.”
“I know.” And Azzi does know. She knows Paige really is sorry, and that it’s not just something she’s saying to appease her. It doesn’t make it hurt any less.
Still, she throws a smile on her face. “You ready to head out?” She’d made a reservation, at one of Paige’s favorite restaurants, a few weeks ago for them to celebrate.
Paige’s expression shifts again, just barely, but Azzi knows every inch of her.
“What is it?”
“The team invited me out to celebrate. Phee got a hook up at a restaurant. You’ll get to hang with Dorka.” Paige says, like it’s a consolation prize.
Azzi feels that familiar disappointment swell within her, but she pushes it down. They’re going to celebrate Paige, so Azzi will go along with a smile on her face.
It’s not even 11 PM when Azzi decides that it’s time for her to go. Her head is pounding and she’s barely spent even five minutes with Paige since they got to the club. She finds Paige by the bar, grabbing another round for the team.
“I’m going home,” Azzi says, trying to avoid looking into Paige’s hazy, glazed over eyes.
“What?” Paige frowns. “We barely just got here.”
“I know, you should stay and celebrate, but I’m going.” Azzi pushes past, not letting Paige talk, she can’t have this conversation, not here.
She pushes out the door, breathing in cool air. A quick peek at her phone shows that her Uber will be here in just a few minutes. She jumps when a hand clasps her shoulder and turns to find Paige.
“What’s the matter? You’re upset.” Paige looks so worried, and it makes Azzi almost want to laugh, if it didn’t hurt, just how clueless Paige could be sometimes.
“I’m fine. Go back inside,” she replies, voice short.
“What happened? You barely talked to anyone the whole night.”
“I’m tired, Paige.” Azzi blinks furiously as tears fill her eyes. “Sometimes, I just want to be able to hold your hand, and I can’t, and I can’t even be mad at you about it. I’m so tired, so please, just let me go home.”
Paige freezes. Her hand is outstretched, but she’s stopped short of making contact. For a moment, Azzi wishes Paige would just grab her, hold on, tell her to stay. But she doesn’t, and Azzi just gets into the Uber and drives off, leaving Paige behind on the sidewalk.
When Azzi wakes up the next morning, she feels hungover, even though she had barely drank the night before. Her eyes feel swollen from crying and her body sore from being curled up in a ball all night. Paige isn’t asleep beside her, but that’s no surprise. Sometimes the blonde will sleep on the couch when she gets home late because she doesn’t want to disrupt Azzi’s sleep.
She finally drags herself out of bed, heading toward the kitchen in search of caffeine. She stops short when she sees Paige sitting at the counter, nursing a cup of coffee.
“I’m surprised you’re awake already.” Azzi offers, feeling regretful at her harsh tone from the night before as she looks at Paige’s drawn, tired face.
“Haven’t slept.” Paige takes a sip of her coffee.
She finally looks up, into Azzi’s eyes, and before she can even speak, Azzi knows.
“Paige…” She starts, voice already wobbling. She sits gingerly in the chair next to Paige.
“Azzi.” Paige responds, sounding so steady Azzi shouldn’t be able to suspect that she is about to break Azzi’s heart. But Azzi knows Paige, and can see the pain in her expression.
“Don’t do this.”
“I’m doing this for you.” Paige reaches out for Azzi’s hand, and when she holds it gently, they’re both shaking.
“Don’t.” Azzi chokes out again.
“You deserve so much more than what I can give you.” Azzi notices how Paige stares behind her head, unable to even make eye contact with her.
“I know you are a lot of things Paige Bueckers, but I never thought you were a coward.” Azzi jerks her hand away, wrapping her arms around herself.
“I’m sorry.”
//
The fire in my gut that I've chased ever since
“Azzi! Wait!”
Azzi almost doesn’t hear her over the constant hum of people moving about the arena. But she’s always had a sense for Paige, from the moment they met, like a thread connecting them no matter where they were. She stops in the hallway where she had fled after the final buzzer had sounded.
“Congratulations, Paige.”
“Thank you.” Paige pants, still catching her breath.
There’s a beat of silence, but it’s almost comfortable, in a way the space between them hasn’t been for years.
“Azzi-”
“Paige-”
They laugh when they both speak in unison. Azzi puts a hand out, gesturing for Paige to talk.
Paige steps forward, reaching her hand out, a question in her eyes.
Azzi almost says yes, almost reaches out to answer. But she’s been burned before, and it’s not always easy to be brave. So she takes the easy way out.
“Win this thing, and then we can talk.”
“‘Win this thing?’ The championship?” Paige asks, almost incredulous.
“Yeah.” Azzi smirks at her, already drawn back into a familiar banter. “Unless you don’t think you can do it.”
Paige scoffs immediately. “I’ll see you when I lift that trophy.”
Paige had already known she was going to play her heart out, but nothing gets her competitive spirit going more than Azzi challenging her.
Paige stares at Azzi for a moment, just drinking in the sight of her with her number on her chest, knowing that when Azzi turned from her that she would see her name stretched across her back.
She smiles at Azzi, and it feels almost unfamiliar, smiling and knowing it’s true and sincere.
Azzi smiles back, and Paige knows this championship is hers.
“Azzi! Hold up!” Azzi freezes in place, recognizing that voice. She rubs a hand over her forehead. She almost wants to keep going, just jog down the hallway and right out of the arena.
Instead, she just takes a deep breath and then another, and turns around. Her traitorous heart still quickens at the sight of Paige Bueckers smiling at her.
“Hey,” Paige says, voice soft as she runs her eyes down Azzi’s chest, lingering on the purple logo and #35 bold on her chest.
“Hi.” Azzi replies, eyes darting to and from Paige’s face. There have been a few unanswered and clearly drunk texts, from both sides, and a huge bouquet at her doorstep after she had been drafted, but this is the closest they’ve been in nearly a year.
“You kicked our asses huh?”
It had been Azzi’s first time matching up against the Lynx, but it’s just their luck that Paige hadn’t even been able to play, a hand injury keeping her out of the line up. It had been a hard fought game, with Azzi’s Valkyries coming out on top, but it hadn’t been what Azzi had wanted.
“I missed you out there.”
It’s the truth. Despite their distance, Azzi has long dreamed of the moment she and Paige would face off in the WNBA, and it was disappointing that it had been delayed like so many of their on the court moments.
Paige gives her that crooked smile. “I’m so proud of you.”
Every emotion floods through Azzi at that moment. Anger, sadness, joy, hope, love. This is what she’d wanted. Just her and Paige and the game they loved so much.
But then she remembers why she’s been miserable for nearly an entire year despite achieving her biggest dreams. She remembers why she hasn’t been able to share her proudest moments with the person she loves the most.
“What do you want, Paige?”
Paige steps closer, until they’re within arms reach.
“I just- I had to talk to you; tell you how happy I am for you.”
Azzi feels herself softening, like she always has around Paige.
“Thank you.” Somehow the hallway seems quiet, even though Azzi knows there are thousands of people beyond these walls.
“I-”
Paige is interrupted when a voice calls down the hall for Azzi. The team’s PR person is looking for her, and Azzi’s late for media.
Paige takes a big step back, and Azzi is brought back to that day a year ago, and the heartbreak feels almost as fresh. But she decides then and there that she’s cried enough over Paige Bueckers, and so she just smiles, wistfully.
“I’ll see you around, Paige,” she says, and then she walks away.
//
You set the bar, you're gonna stick
“And for the first time since 2017, the Lynx have done it! Minnesota, your Lynx are WNBA Champions once more!”
The cheers of the fans is near deafening. The Liberty players leave the court in stunned silence as the Lynx players pile on top of each other with joy.
Azzi whoops, voice hoarse from hours of non stop cheering. She knows it might be a bad look, as a member of another team, to be this excited, but she can’t help it.
Suddenly there’s a loud swell of noise, and the crowd on the court parts. Paige is pushing her way through the throng of people, and a mob of cameras is following her. She finally makes her way to where Azzi is standing, a few rows up from the court.
She smiles at the fans, who all clamor for her attention, but Paige is on a mission. She pushes her way through the crowd, ignoring how the team’s security is nearly begging her to come back down.
“Paige! What are you doing?”
“I did it!” Paige beams, blue eyes brimming with joyful tears.
Azzi throws her arms around her, barely registering the noise around them.
“I love you!” Paige cups her hand around Azzi’s ear as she speaks, and Azzi feels the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
“What?” Azzi laughs, in disbelief. “Paige, you just won a championship! They’re about to announce you as Finals MVP.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Paige pulls back and presses their foreheads together. “All of this is empty without you with me.”
Cameras flash all around them. The entire world is watching, and Azzi knows that this is impulsive and that they have so much they need to talk about, but in this moment, it feels like they’re just kids again, sitting atop a creaky ferris wheel with their whole future ahead of them.
This time, Azzi leans in first, lets Paige decide.
This time, she doesn’t hesitate.
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Nam-gyu x reader
I've only seen like two people write for him and I'm desperate 💔
It was the same old thing everyday. Hollering at people to come to the bar he worked. Fake smiles and bitter humour became the norm. He wasn't surprised with how things turned out, not like he cared to try and neither did his folks.
It was another Friday night, but tonight was different since he wasn't working today, that meant no hassling for customers. Some time just to himself. He wondered what he could do to pass the time, maybe a change of scenery, away from the bar and the thrum of music that ached his bones on those long nights.
But the lifestyle was already too deeply engrained in him, it was like a second home at this point and honestly where else would he go? He couldn't imagine using his money for anything other than to pay his rent or get his regular fix. The evolution from bummy cigarettes to actual drugs seemed so far away he can't remember when it began, it's not like he went out of his way to find it. He was content with the cheap stuff, but with work like this he should've expected how it'd eventually turn out. He tried to convince himself he hated it, that he only did it for the sake of his image but he knew better, he knew he got off the high and the one easiest to blame other than himself was Thanos. As he walked towards the bar he let out a sharp scoff as the man slipped into his mind, he was funny, entertaining but as bad an influence as any other.
He slows as the neon lights came into view, sighing as he picks a cigarette from a packet in his back pocket and easily lights it. Taking a long drag as he stares ahead, tempted to go in but something else repells him. For the moment he just hangs outside, just by the door of a small convenience store where most went to get a quick meal after a couple of drinks. His head unconsciously perks up at the sound of the convenience store doors bell ringing as a customer walks out and he has to take a double take to make sure he wasn't imagining it, wiping the cigarette smoke from his face to get a clearer look. The person of interest only seems to recognise him as they walk down the stairs and are about to make a turn to walk in his direction. Stopping dead in their tracks as they make direct eye contact eyes as wide as his. Yeah it was her.
Spluttering slightly as he continues to wave his arm to clear the smoke before swiftly butting his cigarette on the brick wall. A coyish smile on his face as he steps towards her, rocking on the balls of his feet.
"Been a while huh?"
He'd been friends with you for years knowing each other from highschool to the end of college, he couldn't be asked to go to uni, you didn't seem surprised but the disappointment on your face was clear. It almost made him back out.
Considering all this he'd say you two have a good length of history together, memories too. One memory he could never seem to shake was in the second year of college.
It was lunchtime and he had come to your classroom to sit and bother you as usual. You knew the routine. He was ranting on about some guy that he claimed to be an "arrogant dick", talking your ear off as he faced you completely, his leg knocking into yours occasionally to catch your attention when he got to certain parts, he was content with you humming your acknowledgement as you ate your food. But then he suddenly stops mid story, making your head perk up confused. He smirked proudly finally knowing you were actually listening to his dumb stories after all before it solemned slightly.
"What do you think?" He said almost mumbling, tucking his hair behind his ear, a habit of his you found endearing.
"Think of...what?" You had said back mid bite of your food, staring into his eyes, a bit too deeply, so he ran his hand over his face with a sigh.
"...Of me." His voice quieter now, looking ahead instead of at you, he could sense your judging gaze without looking. He remembers how his heart pounded and his hands felt clammy.
"Of you?" You hummed in thought, placing down your food as you looked at his side profile, unimpressed with how he refused to look back at you. You had sighed before answering, resting your cheek in the palm of your hand, "You're nice, when you're not with your friends, I like you more when it's just us." Is all you had said before returning to eating.
He couldn't forget how genuinely taken back by your words he felt, his hair moving with his head as it snapped towards you expectantly. You only give him a pleased side glance as you chuckle and shrug slightly, refusing to let him have a deeper insight to your words. And being immature as he was back then he never figured it out and even now he wonders if he'd figured it out. He wonders even now as he stands opposite you after three, almost four years, if you'd still be interested in an "us".
You chuckle softly, an undertone of disbelief as you step forward him with a small smile on your lips as you finally recognise him. Huffing again in shock, the cold air condensing and forming white clouds with each exhale.
"Nam-gyu? It's been so long I didn't think I'd see you again?" There's a gladness to see him in your words, in your expression and he can't deny the fact it made him feel better about himself.
"Yeah...we never really saw each other again after you left for uni and stuff." He muttered awkwardly, he wanted to seem more confident, it was embarassing to realise he'll probably never be able to look you in the eyes if he's not rambling about something stupid."How was it?"
You sink further into the warmth of your jacket as you answer the question, "It was fun, had all the experiences I missed out on and got my papers." He can't help but chuckle alongside you, even if he's sharing your joy three years too late. "What about you Nam, what are you up to?"
His heart seemed to lift at the familiar nickname, one that you had decided him worthy of on a random Tuesday afternoon in your third year of high school. He didn't care for when others used it but when it was you, and after so long? He could already feel his ears growing hotter as he chuckles again as he tucks his hair behind them.
"Ah...ha, just working ya know." He pursed his lips, he didn't want you to know where he worked, after all your scolding of how he "had potential" but any drive he had left with mum when she abandoned him with his grandma after his dad's death. All of a sudden he was itching for another drag of that cigarette he had just snubbed out. Sucking it up with a slight smile as he gestured awkwardly behind him. "I, uh actually work here, at the bar."
You only nodded, understandingly it seemed, but his gaze wavers at how your eyebrows draw together slightly, he knew what you were thinking but he wasn't ready to confront that, not now. "I wouldn't recommend you come by though." He sighed as he rubbed his hands together, trying to seem as unbothered as he could. He honestly didn't want you near this place, or getting involved with the people in it. He was only here because the pay was good enough and he couldn't think of anywhere else to apply, maybe, just maybe if he had looked around. Sucked up his pride and asked you for advice he wouldn't be stuck in this place. But it was far too late to be considering that now.
He watches as you tilt your head at his warning before shrugging slightly "Not my scene anyway." He was grateful you didn't pry, it was too soon and too late to explain everything at once.
Now that the awkward introductions were over he had the mind to look at you more closely. He knew he found you pretty before but now you'd grown to be beautiful, round features, now more defined by age and experience, illuminated by the gentle glow of the store lights. His staring a drastic change to his demeanor before, he wonders if you notice the slight changes in him too. In his own honest opinion he's only grown taller and you've apparently stayed the same, he bites back a smirk once he notices, tucking his hands in his pockets as he snorts. And like you knew what he was thinking you scoff and roll your eyes. The situation felt all too familiar.
Suddenly you step closer nudging his arm with yours as you look him up and down questionably, "You're not as touchy as you used to be the old you would've been slung over me by now." He only scoffs as you giggle to yourself at the memories, feeling fairly embarassed, and even more so because he knew he had to mentally tell himself not to when he officially recognised it was you in front of him.
"Yeah? Well I grew up." He says sarcastically pushing his hair behind his ear as he stands taller earning another laugh from you which rings nostalgically in his ears. He wonders if the either of you even grew up. You were still connected by the memories after all, is that the same concept allowed for feelings? He felt selfish for entertaining the thought, but for now he was happy to see your face again, it was a breath of fresh air from the constant buzz of his life. A life he felt he could leave behind if you stayed as close as you were now.
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