#i like to think they threw ragers

[partiallypearl]

how many parties do we think the tv!btr boys threw in minnesota pre moving to la

[moonstruckme]

rooomate james. 😭😭 literally obsessed w himm!!

Me too I love him (and you!) sm <3

part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 808 words

You don’t recognize James’ car until he shouts at you. 

“Hey!” 

You give a little jump, turning midair to find James smiling out the rolled-down window. 

“Want a lift?” 

“God, you scared me!” You backtrack and open the passenger door. The seat looks to have been tidied in a hurry, receipts and takeaway containers tossed into the backseat. “How’d you even know I’d need a ride?” 

James refrains from responding to give you an expectant look. You roll your eyes and buckle your seatbelt. Satisfied, he puts the car in reverse, setting his hand on your seat to look behind him as he backs out of the parking spot. 

“You weren’t home when I got there,” he says, “and then I remembered on Sundays you usually get off at eleven, so here I am. Is Art not with you?” 

“No, he wasn’t working tonight.” 

James doesn’t seem too disappointed by this. He pulls onto the street. You watch him, looking almost unconsciously for signs of wear and tear. 

Now that rugby season is in full swing, he’s gone not just during the day for training but sometimes overnight for away games. You’ve been alone in your apartment for the whole weekend while he played in London and then Bristol. It was weird. You think you’ve accidentally grown used to having James around. You don’t fancy yourself a very tactile person, and the urge to hug him isn’t terribly strong, but it’s there. 

“How was work?” he asks you. 

“It was fine. How were your matches?” 

“They were fine,” he imitates you, grinning. “No, it’s like I said. Winning the second one’s always better than winning the first and losing the second. It’s nice to end on a good note.”

He’d texted continual updates while he was gone. You sat on your couch, pretending to yourself or perhaps to some invisible, judgemental observer that you were watching TV when really you were entirely focused on James’ texts. You imagined him sitting in his hotel room doing the same, or maybe in a pub with his teammates, smiling at his phone each time you responded. 

Your imagination has become terribly overindulgent lately. 

“Honestly, I was pretty disappointed you weren’t home when I got there,” James says, a familiar teasing lilt to his voice. “I was hoping to come in and catch you wearing one of my jumpers and staring tearily at a framed photo of me.” 

You roll your eyes, but your face burns. You did use his shampoo, once. In your defense, you’d run out of yours, but you thought that it wouldn’t be so bad to smell like him, nice and fresh and comforting. It had foamed more than you expected. It did smell really nice, but it made your hair feel dry (boy shampoo always does that, you’ve no idea how James’ curls seem to thrive under such poor treatment) and you felt silly about it for days, lovesick in the most derogatory sense. 

Didn’t stop you from sniffing your hair occasionally, though. 

“You weren’t gone to war,” you reply. “And where would I get a framed photo of you?” 

James looks affronted. “I assumed you already had one. How did you get through the weekend without even a photo? You brave, brave girl.” 

“I actually threw a rager,” you deadpan. “Rented out your room to six people traveling through with the carnival and let them invite over all their friends. Did loads of hard drugs.” 

“Well, we all have different ways of coping.” He reaches over to squeeze your shoulder consolingly. You pretend goosebumps don’t skitter all the way down your arm from the brief touch. “And what a marvelous job you’ve done covering up your escapades!” He exclaims as you pull up in front of the apartment. “I haven’t come across the cocaine dust on our bathroom counter yet, so you must have really done a thorough cleanup.” 

“Keep looking, it’s around there somewhere.” 

James laughs. You’re slower getting out of the car than he is, and by the time you emerge he’s in front of you, pulling you into a hug. You think your bones liquefy. He’s warm and strong and he smells like his shampoo, both arms squishing you heartily before he lets go with a little laugh. 

“Sorry,” he says, bringing his hands to your upper arms, “I didn’t even ask. I just missed you, you know?” James has this look on his face, smile brilliant and eyes wide open. So saccharine sweet you almost can’t look at him. “Guess I got used to having you around.” 

You do your best to smile back. “Yeah, me too.” 

He squeezes your arms before turning to go inside. “You smell like Italian food, too. I don’t suppose you’ve cooked anything recently that’s still in the fridge? I’m beginning to think about second dinner.” 

[chucky-vs-the-giant-tortoise]

clingy

Rafe Cameron x reader

(REQUEST): Hey. I just came across your tumblr and I lovedddd the Billy Hargrove x platonic sister reader it was sooo cute yet so Billy coded 😭. I was just wondering if you would write a Rafe x romantic gf reader based upon something along the lines of that they are at a party and Rafe despite being around his friends Topper and Kelce, he's just low key paying attention to the reader. A lil bit of separation anxiety if you catch my drift. Hope this request isn't too much trouble for you to write 😭😭😭

warning(s): sexually suggestive content!

a/n: i'm so glad you liked my billy snippet! your support means the world darling, and fulfilling your request is no trouble at all. i just hope that i did it justice.

Y/N hadn’t expected this from Rafe.

After all, Rafe Cameron was hardly the type to be so obvious. Y/N knew from experience that he preferred to keep things to himself, shielding his emotions from potentially prying eyes. He wouldn’t dare be caught in such a vulnerable position, yearning for his girl despite her standing only a few feet away from him.

However, that didn’t seem to stop him tonight as he watched Y/N from across the room, his eyes tracing her swaying hips as she threw her head back in drunken delight. Even in her state of intoxication, Y/N had felt Rafe’s eyes on her ever since they’d arrived at one of Topper’s infamous ragers. He’d long abandoned his conversation with Top and Kelce in favour of taking her in between shots of hard liquor, his fingers itching to find the small of Y/N’s back.

“Yo, you good man?” Kelce smiled, patting him jovially on his shoulder. Rafe turned to meet his friend's eyes, heat rising to his cheeks. He did his best to blame it on the alcohol.

"Yeah. Yeah man, 'm alright."

The words fell effortlessly from his lips, but Rafe wasn't even sure that he believed them. He wasn't used to this tightness gripping his chest, his body aching for the feeling of Y/N’s soft skin against his.

"He's fine, Kelce," Topper smirked over the rim of his drink. "Our boy here's just feelin' a little pussy-whipped. Aren't you, Cameron?"

Rafe's face hardened as the two boys laughed, his jaw clenching. "Fuck off, Top."

"Hey man!" Topper put his hands up in mock surrender, chuckling as he spoke. "No need to get all embarrassed. Just didn't know getting with Y/N would make you so soft, that's all."

Rafe gritted his teeth, forcing himself not to lose his temper. Y/N always hated when he thought with his fists and not his head, and he reckoned she wouldn't be pleased to watch him throw his best friend into the nearest wall.

Instead Rafe chose to stand with a slurred whatever, man, opting to leave Kelce and Topper behind in favour of the only person who could keep him calm.

"Hey," Y/N said softly, looking up as Rafe’s presence loomed over her shoulder. She couldn't help but smile as she felt Rafe's hands admire her figure from behind, shuddering as they found their way around her waist. Rafe pulled her close to his front, swaying with Y/N as she continued to dance on unsteady feet. "Got bored of Top already, huh?" She nodded over to where his idiotic friends were now busy offering shots to any girls unfortunate enough to cross their paths.

"Nah," Rafe said, his voice low and gravelly from the alcohol. "Just missed you, kid."

Y/N turned, resting her head on her boyfriend's chest, and Rafe brought his hand up to cup the nape of her neck. God, he'd been craving this all night. Y/N's weight against his chest, the addictive smell of her perfume—just her presence had a way of pacifying him like nothing else could.

Finally Rafe felt himself relax, his face buried in Y/N's hair.

"That so?" Y/N whispered into the sensitive skin of his neck. Rafe chuckled, using his free hand to move a few strands of hair from her face.

"What're you playin' at, hm?"

"Nothin'." He found himself lost in the sickly sweet tone of her voice, pooling like honey in his ears. "Just surprised. Didn't think the Big Bad Rafe Cameron would miss little ole me."

Y/N whimpered suddenly as Rafe's grip tightened around the back of her neck, his hair brushing against her cheek as he leant down to her height.

“Why don't we get out of here then, kid." Goosebumps broke out over Y/N’s arms as Rafe spoke, low and steady. "Let me show you just how much I missed you."

[sluttsumu]

DOUBLE TROUBLE

.ೃ࿐ feat. atsumu + osamu miya

in which: the twins have a little bet, and you’re their next target. who can make you cum the most on halloween night without anyone knowing, keep quiet virgin or you’ll get caught.

warning: 18+, college!au, fratboy!inarizaki, oblivious!reader, non+ dubcon/peer pressure, threesome, corruptive thoughts, misogyny (?), manipulation, drugs (molly), vaginal fingering, vaginal penetration, unprotected, petname: angel, oral (f!receiving + m!receiving), virginity loss, exhibitionism + voyeurism, implied orgy (with suna), sunaosa TEASE, they’re sleazy hoes. wc: 2k

ೃ࿐ ki’s note: this is fic was supposed to kickstart my kinktober series. i hope you love this as much as i do because i had the best time writing it! in my mind it’s still october 😭 divider: @cafekitsune

two devils, one angel, and fate. being a virgin sacrifice wasn’t necessarily on your halloween bucket list for this year.

— ♡︎ —

“can’t think of anyone to bring ‘samu ?” atsumu piqued, osamu is supposed to be the smart one.

the infamous twins had been thinking for some time on who to invite to their annual halloween party.

there were plenty of guests, but they needed someone special for the night.

atsumu’s fucked half of the bimbos from his fan club, meanwhile osamu was never satisfied with any of his groupies.

“well,” he starts. “i have an idea.” the light bulb in his head flickered before finally going off when he thought of the perfect girl. the dainty little college freshman whom he sees walking around campus all dolled up.

“who’s that girl that we always see with sunarin?” he ponders, in attempt to remember your name. atsumu’s eyes lit up when he realized. he knew exactly who his brother was talking about.

osamu really was a genius.

“y/n..” his tone was unsure, but curious nonetheless. osamu shot a finger gun “bingo.” indicating that his atsumu was right on the money. they paused, staring at one another as if they were reading each others minds. twin telepathy surely was a blessing. if they were both thinking correctly it seems like they’ve got a target.

*incoming facetime from; suna rintaro*

“yes suna?” you answer holding the phone above your face. “what’re you doing tomorrow?” the abrupt question never threw you off anymore, it was common for suna taking you on all kinda of spontaneous adventures on and off campus.

“ ‘m not doing anything, gonna watch horror movies and eat candy.” suna eyed you feigning disgust, what lame plans. “absolutely not..” he scoffs, “the twins invited you to their party tomorrow and you’re going.” the miya twins were mutual friends and have been known to throw some awesome ragers from time to time, how could you decline such an offer?

“i don’t have a costume???” honestly you were trying to find any excuse possible to lessen your chances of coming home wasted on halloween night. but suna had a solution to everything, even this. “wear white, i’ll sort out the rest.” he hung up after the condescending message, leaving you to piece together his surprise.

white, the colour of purity and innocence. nothing is innocent about a college party, especially because,

halloween was the one night a year a girl could dress like a total slut, and no one could say anything about it.

a firm knock was set on your dorm room door. “let’s go” his eyes fixated as you opened the door. suna mildly regrets not taking up the twins’ offer to join them on their escapade tonight, especially with the way that dress hugs your body. he quickly releases himself from the dirty thoughts.

“okay, what’s my costume? you said wear white.” suna’s hand rises from his side revealing a halo. makes sense why he told you to wear white now. it wasn’t until you took in his costume that really made you understand his choice.

he’s dressed in a red button up, except the buttons weren’t being used at all. the devil horns stuck in his hair confirmed the unoriginal costume idea. a few days back he mentioned matching costumes with the rest of his fraternity, and if you had to see the rest of them like this, than you were sure that attending this party was worth it.

the house was loud, as much as it was crowded, suna’s hand around your wrist is the only thing preventing you from getting caught in the ocean of people.

“sunarin! we’re over here.” pi kappa alpha (ΠΚΑ) was one of seven frats at your university, and was definitely the hottest. pretty, rich boys with the world at their disposal. everyone knew this but that never stopped girls from clinging onto them, after all osamu’s arms and atsumu’s abs— focus!

“ah, you made it.” osamu exclaimed opening his arms for a particularly tight hug. you hugged all of them, each cologne scent different from the last. “mind if we steal rin for a minute? won’t be long, promise.” atsumu’s tone of voice couldn’t have been more condescending, talking to you so sweet and saccharin. you nodded, shooting the quintet a small smile, before going to find a drink.

“an angel, cute.” atsumu watched your back was you walked away into a crowd of people. all that clouded his thoughts were all the things he wanted to do to you throughout the night. “get yer head intha game. what are the rules?” osamu chuckled, it was no doubt that he was having the same thoughts as his brother. that’s for sure.

“ ‘ts 10:30, whoever can make her cum the most before midnight first wins. unless you fuck her that is.. she’s a virgin so if you manage to to take her virginity you automatically win. get caught and you have to restart.” the night is young and the rules were set, but there was one question unanswered, whats the prize for a game such as this?

money of course. sex and money have been interchangeable for as long as mankind can remember, no difference here. a thousand dollars put up by each member, totalling to five thousand. winner takes all, loser gets nothing. may the best twin win.

atsumu wasted no time following you to the kitchen hearing the laughs from his friends behind. unfortunate for him bokuto caught your attention a little too quickly. he watched the two of you laugh and introduce yourselves to one another. it wouldn’t go on for much longer, not if atsumu could help it.

“bo-kun! do me a favor would’ya?” he said, slinging an arm over your shoulder. “get some more ice for the cooler, ‘ts intha basement.”

in boy world, this was a territorial interaction meaning; get the fuck out of here.

meanwhile in girl world, you didn’t think anything of it.

bokuto cheerfully agreed uttering “nice meeting you!” before sliding past the crowd of people to go fetch that ice.

“cute costume miya.” you look up to see him above your shoulder. he unhooks his arm from your side, leaning up against the counter. “not too bad yourself. you look,” he pauses for a mere few seconds. thoughts of you and how innocent you look plagued his mind, costume doesn’t help either. something in him was excited to taint that, you’d look so much prettier with your makeup smudged and begging him to make you cum, he thought.

“pretty,” he smiled, eyes shifting around your lips, and neck then back to your eyes. “you look really fucking pretty.”

“nights still young, you like games?” you tilted your head at the question. a suspicious question but how could anyone say no to him. “dependsss..” you drag out the word, tone laced with hesitation. this was all one big game, that you unfortunately didn’t know you were apart of, throwing another in the mix couldn’t hurt.

“how do ya feel about suck and blow?”

—♡︎—

suna forcefully offered up kita’s amex for the game, safe to say that he’s not happy about it.

the game rules were simple; suck and blow, on a card that is. pass the card mouth to mouth without dropping it. drop it and make out with the next person in front of everyone and spend an additional 10 minutes in an enclosed space. sounds easy right? it wasn’t a pi kappa alpha party without this tradition, they have a separate room dedicated for games such as these.

you watched intensely as the card made its rounds over and over you successfully received and passed it on. you were also standing between atsumu and bokuto, yikes! the card was making its way back around and like before it was just a matter of sucking and blowing, until you were locking lips with one of the hottest guys on campus. atsumu ‘dropped the card’ by accident, catalyzing the makeout sesh between the two of you.

it’s hot, it’s sloppy, it’s fucking miya atsumu.

you feel his smile on your lips as he slips his tongue in between yours, aiming for your bottom lip. the whooping, and whistling among the group was enough to encourage the egotism within you both to put on a nice show for everyone. your nails intertwining in his undercut, while his arms hug your waist.

“okay okay,” kita pushes, removing the two of you off of each other. “10 minutes, you know the drill.”

the frat brothers exchange a glance, one of many kita has shared with his little since atsumu started college.

the amount of girls that have survived that room, godspeed.

hearing the door close behind you was almost frightening, even after the spectacle you put on for everyone just now. it wasn’t until you took a few steps in you noticed this is a bedroom, not your average stuffy coat closet.

“suna teach you to kiss like that or what?” he teases, watching you stare at him in disbelief. “can’t believe he hasn’t fucked you yet.”

guess i’ll be the first, he thought.

suna? fucking you? confusion was an understatement really. unbeknownst to you they all thought you were sunas secret fuck buddy till he told them you were untouched.

atsumu almost forgot, and the realization ran through his blood with pure mischief. he was ready to get his hands on you and play with his toy of the night.

“let’s have some fun, yea?” he quips, walking towards you. “fun like what?” unintentionally you take a step back, the two of you flowing in a seamless b-line towards the bed as he goes forward and you go back.

“you’re a big girl right? in college now. ya know what big girls do?” his tone was informative signalling that there’s more to his mini monologue. “big college girls…kiss, and suck, and fuck boys.”

the smooth of your calves hit the sheets.

“a-atsumu i’m—” you’re a stuttering mess, and he finds it adorable.

“you’re what?” he mocks, lifting his voice up an octave to replicate you. it was only a matter of seconds before you were pushed onto the bed with his body caging yours beneath him.

it was all happening so fast, it’s not that you didn’t want to but this has never happened before. being stuck in a room with a guy especially an experienced one was never on you to-do list for today.

atsumu’s done this to many girls. he’s used to fucking bitches every week and you were no different. he never looses and he’s damn sure nothing will change that tonight.

“i’ve never done this before…” shame drowns your conscience as you confess what you thought was a secret. little did you know, he knew.

“s’okay,” his lips pecked against your jaw lightly, he could feel how tense you were but curious as well. “just wanna make you feel good, hmm?” you could feel atsumu’s hand creeping between your thighs though his eyes never leaving yours. this look on your face, the look of a virgin, never gets old for him.

the inquisitive look of “maybe it’s not so bad” staring back at him as he pulls your panties to the side running his fingers along your wet folds. you didn’t protest, or squirm, or defy, you just laid there beady eyes staring, legs spread for him awaiting his touch.

simultaneously, his fingers slide into you with ease while sharing a kiss to keep you quiet, earning a soft moan onto his lips. your body can’t help but concentrate at the foreign feeling of someone else other than yourself fingering you. “ahhh—! s-slow down ‘tsumu, too much!”

“no can do angel, got a lot ridin’ on ya.” completely dismissing your feelings, he continues to pump his fingers into your leaking cunt. “hurts..” you whine. “atsumu it hurts!”

“don’t lie ta me pretty, i can feel you clenching ‘round me.” your face flushed at his words, fluttering around his fingers. besides the slight discomfort it felt so fucking good, you really couldn’t get enough of it.

the humiliation you felt hearing the lewd squelching of his digits fingerfucking you was apparent. you watched in awe as he sped up, arm now jackhammering in and out of you at an ruthless pace. “fuckfuckfuck!” you cry, eyes brimming with tears.

atsumu traps your lips in a messy kiss, tasting a mixture alcohol on each others tongues. whines and whimpers escape fall from your lips onto his at the feeling of the coil in your stomach about to break. the euphoria that overcomes your body when your legs begin to tremble, thighs squeezing around his hand, your virgin cunny covers his fingers in sticky cum.

but his assault on your pussy doesn’t stop there, he’s still going; fucking you through your orgasm. “can’t stop there, you can give me another one baby, know you can.”

“no! c-can’t take it! i—” his hand quickly cups around your lips, muffling any sound that dares to come out of your mouth. time’s almost up and atsumu would throw more than a fit if he got caught and had to restart already.

he could feel it again, your pussy clenching around his fingers. atsumu continued at his gruelling pace, with a slick smile on his face. It was so cute seeing you like this, half an hour ago you walked into this party as an innocent little thing, and now he had you exactly where he wanted you — under him with his fingers buried inside of you, on your second orgasm.

“cumming… ‘m cumming—!” you mumble under the weight of his hand, eyes fluttering shut. “atta-fucking-girl angel.” your chest heaved and knees buckled while you creamed on the blondes fingers once more this time at full force, making you see stars before he pulled out of you.

“wasn’t so hard now was it?” he smiled sucking your slick off of his fingers. atsumu is now leading by two points and cocky was an understatement, he can feel himself growing hard watching your body go limp against the sheets. if he had the time, he’d take you right then and there but there was always an opportunity for that.

“make yourself decent before you come out.” was the last thing he said to you, chuckling while the door clicked shut behind him.

get yourself together! the sound of your own voice mentally cursing you was enough to spring you back to your feet, pulling your dress down, and fixing your hair. luckily for you, everyone continued their conversations, dancing, and games as you crept out the room exhaling heavily with relief.

a few eyes lingered, especially kita’s. he peered at you from afar, while atsumu whispered in his ear. he raised the red solo cup with an upward tilt of his head before smirking in your direction, taking a sip from the cup.

frat boys are just the equivalent to mean girls.

hell, it hasn’t even been five minutes and he’s already going around telling everyone. you couldn’t bare to see it really, causing you to relocate somewhere else in the house, the stairs.

you sat on the wooden steps, eyes glued onto your phone screen. the feeling of someone walking down was evident as the hardwood took a dip at the weight, it was osamu.

he pondered, swirling the liquid courage in his hand. how could he get you on his white linen sheets? he thought. osamu smirked at the idea that popped into his head soon after remembering the common denominator between his bed and that dress you’re wearing.

starring at your back from a few steps above, his eyes moveded to suna who was situated mere meters away from where you sat. he feigns tipping his cup, eyes pointing down to where you sat then back to the brunette.

it was genius, if he ruins that pretty little dress of yours you’ll have no choice but to take it off.

“do it.” suna mouthed covering his words with a cupped hand.

the weight of someone walking down the stairs returns after having paused, you didn’t think much of it until alcohol poured down your shoulder and into your bra from above you.

“sorry angel! that was my bad.” osamu quips, downing the rest of his cup.

“you’ve got to be kidding me..”

“relaaax,” he drawls before reassuring that “you can come change up here.”

—♡︎—

osamu scanned his closet looking for one of his old flings’ clothes murmuring, “no-no-no-too big-too small— damn i should call her..” as he looks through the assortment of clothing.

you waited on his bed partly disgusted at the fact that these clothes were equivalent to trophies.

“check that drawer ta’ your left for something.” he gestures a waving hand, pointing to the side table next to his bed.

the drawer was less then helpful, containing: condoms, an agent provocateur set (brand new, mind you), a bottle of dior sauvage, and a miniature plastic bag with two smiley face pills in it.

he has drugs just laying in his room?

“what’re these?” prodding at the drugs you ask, dangling the bag between delicate fingers.

he turns to face you, smirking when he sees what caught your curiosity. “a pretty girl named, molly.” osamu banged a girl with that name now that he thinks about it.

“you guys seriously take these?” eyes narrowing at the tiny pill analyzing it’s appearance, but wanting to know more at the same time. “are they fun?”

osamu closes the closet door, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. his attention is focused elsewhere when you display genuine interest in the party drug.

“wanna find out?” he asks with the tilt of his head.

fuck around and find out was an understatement, getting fucked after finding out was more accurate really.

“fuuuuck ‘samu..” your manicure runs through silver hair, as he messily laps at your cunt.

every flick of his tongue making your knees buckle, the pleasure was overwhelming your lower half as he teased your clit with the tip his tongue.

you couldn’t get over how good it feels, what was the point of staying a virgin when there’s men who will pleasure you like the miya twins.

“pussy tastes s’good princess.” he mumbles onto you, sending vibrations up your spine, continuing to eat you like you’re his last meal.

he could feel now eager you were to get off, grinding yourself against his face in hopes to chase the orgasmic high that your body was so close to.

the loud noises of his mouth smothered against your pussy and broken whimpers fill up the room.

loud enough for suna to hear through the bedroom door he’s standing on the other side of. he could feel his erection growing, listening to his best friend taint his virgin girl bestie on the most sinister night of the year.

“righthererighthere! ‘m cumming— oh fuck!” the euphoric feelings of the drug in your system enhanced every last nerve running through your veins.

you’re loud, high pitched whines falling from your throat as you throw your head back, eyes shutting tight.

osamu’s face pushed into your cunt with force, nose nudging at your clit. little did the two of you know, the brunette purposely walked into the room with you on the verge of a mind blowing orgasm and osamu’s mouth quite busy.

“you cumming?” suna asks, gripping your face with slender fingers.

your eyes shoot open to see one of his hands planted on the back of osamu’s head pushing his mouth deeper into your pussy, the other holding your face, taunting from above.

“oh yea, you’re fucked.” he taunts, pushing your lips into a kissy face forcefully moving your head from side to side, observing your features.

suna’s done his fair share to know you weren’t all there, your dilated pupils, flushed face and very vulnerable state gave it away.

“don’t be shy, go on. might be ‘samu going to town on ya but your attentions on me, hmm?”

seeing you tweaked out on the verge of your third orgasm of the night really did it for him.

it was torture, watching and hearing the twins have their fun with you meanwhile he had to watch.

absolutely no fair. he’s the reason you even considered coming to the party at all it wouldn’t be all that bad if he used you as a reward for his efforts, now would it?

“rin!!” you whine, “get out! this is embarrassing!”

suna doesn’t bother listening to your protest. he’s already slid his shirt off, unbuckling his belt watching osamu make you cum.

“move it.” he chuckles, tugging at grey locks.

“hey, i had her first.” osamu scoffs at his friends audacity.

“technically atsumu had her first, but it’s my turn. so, are you gonna keep bitchin’ or get your dick sucked while i fuck her?”

the two boys spoke as of you weren’t even there, like you were just an object for them to play with. this wasn’t about the bet anymore. this was about you, and the fact that they’d never get the opportunity to see your tweaked out, legs spread, off molly ever again.

a once in a lifetime opportunity with you in a position to not protest.

suna’s shadow hovered over you, manipulating your body to fit both of them on osamu’s mattress.

hazy eyes stared into his green ones with incoherent mumbles falling from your lips. seeing you fucked out made him want it that much more.

“hang in there for us pretty.” his voice sounding so sincere, meanwhile rubbing the tip of his cock along your slit.

he pushes into you without warning, stretching your cunt around his girth.

“shit..” he hisses through his teeth. “definitely a virgin, fuck.”

“ah—!” your hand flies to his chest in attempt to get him to slow down. “s’too much..”

“none of that,” osamu coos, grabbing your wrist.

you didn’t even notice that he slid his boxers off, smearing precum on your lips like lipgloss.

“hey ‘samu where’s the—” atsumu says, swinging the door open to the lewdest live scene he’s ever seen. “holy hell.”

“are you gonna stare or join?”

sluttsumu 2023

[tyuns-world]

⋆ ༘ Forbidden ⋆ ༘

Pairing: fem!reader x choi soobin x choi yeonjun

Genre: smut

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), threesome, stepcest

Summary: The tension between you and Yeonjun reaches a boiling point when he competes with your soon-to-be stepbrother, Soobin, for your attention at a party.

Wc: 2k

You knew what you were doing was utterly wrong. You knew he could hear you through the thin walls of your family's vacation home, but you didn't care. You needed to get off, and the thought of your brother's best friend, Yeonjun, hearing just made it all the more thrilling.

You even drew out some of your moans so he could hear better if he was listening in. Of course, he was. Yeonjun was on the other side of the wall, getting hard and riled up at your sounds. He cursed himself for even thinking about touching himself to this. You probably thought he was asleep, and it would be wicked to indulge in the lovely voice of his best friend's younger step-sister.

He was oblivious to your cunning plan. But after you moaned "Yeonjun," he couldn't take it anymore. He stripped himself of his boxers, his hand immediately gripping his leaking cock and stroking it. God, he could only imagine the dirty things you were doing to yourself, imagining it was him.

The morning after your lewd actions, you found yourself in the kitchen, making breakfast. It was just your step brother, his best friend, and yourself at the family vacation home, so it was practically every man for himself. Despite only the three of you staying there, the boys often threw wild parties during your stay, so you guys were never really alone with each other.

The second person to wake up and shuffle into the kitchen was none other than Yeonjun. A flush of embarrassment crept over you as you remembered your bold actions from last night. You silently prayed he had been asleep. "Morning," he said casually, and you hummed in response, trying to maintain a cool appearance.

"I think this place is haunted. I kept hearing moaning last night," Yeonjun teased as he casually raided the fridge for orange juice. Your eyes widened, and you tried to remain composed. Yeonjun was always teasing you, so you tried to convince yourself it was just his usual antics. "Ah, guess we should call the Ghostbusters," you retorted. It was a silly remark but the best you could come up with at the moment.

Yeonjun sauntered over to you, trapping you by placing his hands on either side of the counter. "I think I can deal with the ghost myself. I have something it needs," he murmured in a low, seductive voice, pressing his morning wood against your ass. He smoothly backed away just as your step brother entered the room, loudly yawning.

As you ate breakfast in silence, eyes scanning your respective phones, your step brother broke the quiet. "Oh right. That cute girl Yujin we met on the beach? Yeah, she's coming over with some of her friends, and we're gonna have a little get-together tonight." You huffed a bit, knowing that by "get-together," your step brother meant a rager.

As much as you loved parties, your step brother's were always loud and reckless. "Sweet," Yeonjun said, high-fiving your step brother. You rolled your eyes, and the action caught Yeonjun's attention. "You know, you can always stay in your room if you want," he suggested.

You scoffed at the idea—how could you possibly relax in your room with loud music and even louder people? "Yeah, well, how about I call the cops when I'm ready to enjoy my bed?" you threatened. "Binnie, your sister is being mean," Yeonjun pouted playfully, throwing his arms around soobin and acting hurt.

"Be nice to my friends, Y/N," your step brother Soobin played along. In reality, you and Soobin were practically strangers. Your mother had recently started dating his dad, and you'd only known your step brother for about a year.

This trip was supposed to be a bonding experience your parents had set up, but it felt more like they were tired of having two college kids disagree all the time and had kicked you out so they could honeymoon.

Your soon to be step brother didn't want to waste the trip, so of course, he brought his hot friend, Yeonjun, whom you'd been crushing on for ages. You all attended the same college, but you and Yeonjun were both music majors, so you saw him more often, which led to your hallway crush. You saw Soobin around sometimes when he was with Yeonjun. You even thought he was cute with his bunny like smile, but you disregarded that once your parents started dating.

The party was as loud as you thought it would be—get-together, your ass. You were a few drinks in, wearing a mini pink slip dress with a sweetheart neckline and lace trimming on the top and bottom. It was very flattering against your brown skin tone, and a lot of guys seemed to think so, as you kept getting hit on. Soobin, playing the overprotective brother, shooed them off with a stern "That's my stepsister."

You were a bit grateful for his protective act; the only guy you wished would flirt with you was Yeonjun, who was busy trying to charm a pretty girl across the room. You sighed at the sight and headed to the kitchen to refill your drink.

Your refill was interrupted when someone cleared their throat behind you. "You know I can't scare them all off if you wear clothing like that," Soobin remarked, gesturing toward your outfit. You rolled your eyes. "It's a cute dress, and I'm not asking you to do this," you replied. Soobin was obviously tipsy, leaning against the fridge for balance.

"You know, I thought you were cute when I used to see you around the halls," he admitted. You froze. "Me and Yeonjun had a bet... ah, I actually shouldn't talk about it," Soobin said, taking another swig from his drink. Your curiosity piqued. "So, you guys made a bet?" you asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

"Well, we bet on who'd get you first. Guess I lost, huh," he said, raising an eyebrow and smirking. You found the action unexpectedly attractive and quickly dismissed the thought. Soobin was admittedly attractive; he looked like a lead in a romance drama. But he was about to be your stepbrother, and that bridge was burning.

You two gazed intensely at each other, the air thick with unspoken tension, until a voice broke the spell. "Hope I'm not interrupting," Yeonjun said from the doorway. "Soobin was just telling me about a bet you guys had," you replied playfully, turning your attention to him. "Oh, I thought that was dropped since I'm obviously winning," Yeonjun said, grabbing your waist, pulling you in front of him, and resting his chin on your shoulder.

The sudden closeness made your heart race. Soobin pushed himself off the fridge and walked over to the two of you. "Who decided that?" he challenged, his competitive nature flaring up. Yeonjun had clearly riled him. You stood there, flustered by the situation. 

"How about we decide that right now?" Yeonjun murmured, holding you tighter and placing kisses along the side of your neck. You tilted your head slightly, giving him more access. "See? She wants me. She even moaned my name all last night," Yeonjun said cockily.

You were melting, powerless against his touch. You'd wanted this for so long, and you didn't want him to stop. Soobin stepped in front of you, trailing a finger up your thigh and under your dress. You let out a deeper moan when he made contact with your inner thigh.

"Well, you couldn't make her sound like that," Soobin taunted, egging Yeonjun on. You knew this was wrong—not only were you being touched provocatively by two guys in the kitchen where anyone could walk in, but one of those guys was your almost-stepbrother.

"Guys, we shouldn't do this out in the open," you warned as Yeonjun went from kisses to biting and sucking on your neck, while Soobin's hand trailed dangerously close to your panties. "Are you getting embarrassed now?" Yeonjun whispered in your ear, causing you to shudder with pleasure.

Soobin, not liking your attention being drawn away from him, traced circles on your already wet panties. You arched into Yeonjun at the sensation. The loud chants of "chug, chug, chug" from the party brought you all back to reality. "Maybe we should move this elsewhere," Soobin suggested, removing his hand.

Yeonjun quickly glanced around, making sure no one was watching before he took your hand and led you towards your room, with Soobin following closely behind. As you entered, Soobin clicked the door locked behind him. The noise from the party became a distant hum, your focus now entirely on the two boys.

"So, how about I have fun with Y/N here and you guard the door?" Yeonjun suggested to Soobin, pulling you into a kiss. Soobin scoffed at the suggestion, walking up to the two of you and positioning himself behind you, rubbing his erection against you. You moaned into Yeonjun's mouth, pressing your ass further against Soobin.

Yeonjun's hands roamed over your body, sliding down to the hem of your dress and lifting it slightly, turning the kiss more desperate and passionate. Soobin's hands traced the contours of your waist, moving up to cup your breasts through the fabric of your dress. His touch was warm, leaving you wanting more.

"You're so sexy," Yeonjun murmured against your lips, his voice laced with desire. He nibbled on your lower lip before trailing kisses along your jawline.

"He's not the only one who thinks so," Soobin whispered in your ear. His hot breath against your skin made you whimper.

You had never experienced such intense pleasure before, and it made your head spin. Soobin's hands continued their exploration, one sliding over your dress to caress your breast, gently squeezing and teasing your nipple through the fabric. A loud moan escaped your lips. You found yourself tracing the contours of Yeonjun's chest, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt.

"Let's take this to the bed," Soobin suggested, his voice low and filled with anticipation. Yeonjun nodded, breaking the kiss to lead you towards the bed. Soobin followed, his hands never leaving your body. Yeonjun quickly lost his shirt and unzipped his pants, the intensity of his gaze sending shivers down your spine.

"Looks like I go first," Yeonjun said playfully, laying there half-naked. "I don't think so," Soobin replied, still standing over the bed with you in front of him. He slid his hand up your thigh and into your panties, pushing them to the side as his fingers entered you.

The wet, intimate sound of your arousal, a soft squelch, filled the room as he did so.

Yeonjun chuckled but relished in the sight of your face twisted with pleasure. He crawled over to the edge of the bed where you were being fingered and dropped the straps of your dress, revealing your breasts. He began teasing them with his tongue. Your moans grew louder, and your pussy became wetter as you were overcome with the sensations.

Soobin started sucking on your neck, determined to leave more marks than Yeonjun. You couldn't handle all the pleasure and came all over Soobin's fingers with a loud moan.

"Aw, naughty girl," Soobin taunted. "You've ruined poor Binnie's fingers; they're all soaked," Yeonjun continued, gently parting your lips as Soobin put his fingers inside. "Suck," they commanded in unison. It was hot, and you obeyed, sucking Soobin's fingers clean of your slick.

"That's a good girl," Soobin cooed. Yeonjun moved out of the way as Soobin bent you over the bed, flipping the bottom of your dress up. His hard-on was very evident as he pressed it against your now-exposed ass. "Tsk tsk, don't get greedy now, Binnie. She already graced you with her cum all over your fingers," Yeonjun said. Soobin raised his hands in defeat and moved from behind you, letting Yeonjun take his spot. Yeonjun shoved your panties down and pushed his thick cock inside you. 

Your arms almost buckled under you from how big he was. Yeonjun started fucking into you slowly at first, but with your repeated moans, he couldn't contain himself and began slamming messily into you.

Your moans grew louder, and your arms gave out, but Yeonjun held you up, keeping his pace. "Yeonjun, I can't take it. It's too big," you whimpered, the pace and his cock leaving your body weak.

"You can take it." he reassured you in your ear. You glanced over to Soobin, who was positioned across from you two, jerking himself off at the sight of you. Eyes half-open, fully naked, his red needy cock was in full view.

You mustered the strength to rely on your arms again, sitting up a bit. You made a come-here motion to Soobin, and he obliged. You opened your mouth to suck him off, but he was already two steps ahead and grabbed your hair, shoving his cock in your mouth. Soobin did all the work, rolling and thrusting his dick into your mouth. 

As Soobin thrust into your mouth, you felt a surge of arousal coursing through you.

The sensation of being filled from both ends sent waves of pleasure through your body. Yeonjun's relentless pounding combined with Soobin's forceful thrusting left you in a blissful daze. 

Your moans became muffled around Soobin's cock, the sound vibrating against him, driving him wild. He gripped your hair tighter, urging you to take him deeper.

Meanwhile, Yeonjun maintained his unforgiving pace, his grip on your hips firm as he drove himself deeper into you. As your body was on the edge of climaxing once again, you felt Soobin's cock twitching in your mouth, a sign that he was close.

Sensing his impending release, you redoubled your efforts, sucking him eagerly, wanting to taste his cum. 

With a loud moan, Soobin reached his peak, his hot seed spilling into your mouth. You swallowed, savoring the taste of him as he rode out his orgasm. Yeonjun was close to his own climax; his pace grew sloppier, more needy with each thrust. With a final, powerful thrust, he was sent over the edge, pulling out to spill all over your back. His cries of pleasure mingled with Soobin's sounds of release.

Soobin gently pulled himself out of your mouth, collapsing onto the bed, his body glistening with sweat. Yeonjun planted a tender kiss on your neck before withdrawing.

"I think she said my name more times than you," Soobin teased, As Yeonjun wiped you clean with his own shirt. "No way in hell she enjoyed taking my dick much more than sucking yours," Yeonjun retorted, patting your ass as he finished and pulled your dress down.

"Is that so? She sure seemed happy enough to swallow my whole load," Soobin retorted, causing Yeonjun to scoff. He quickly redressed himself and threw Soobin's clothes at him. "We've deprived the party of its best guest long enough." 

You grabbed a fresh pair of panties from your dresser and slipped on a new dress, taking a moment to touch up your makeup in the mirror.

"Yeonjun, there's a shirt that should fit you in my bottom drawer," you said, leaving the room and stepping back into the wildness of the party.

[thoughtspresso]

Oshi No Ko was about Arima Kana all along.

And I think there’s a real possibility she may die at the end.

Or be placed in the way of grave danger.

I was reading some AquKane shippers say something about how they don’t understand AquaKana, and why the writers and directors keep clearly pushing Kana towards Aqua when they barely share any chemistry. Whereas, in their belief, his relationship with Akane is more honest, deeper, whatever. I’m not here to argue about that. But I get where they’re coming from. And the simple explanation is this:

It’s because this whole story was written for Arima Kana.

I’ve seen some Youtubers talk about how this whole story was meant to be fulfillment for Ruby/Sarina’s dream to become the next great Idol, something about Amaterasu favoring her.

And that’s near what I thought of it. But I really think if the God of Entertainment wanted to bless a child with cancer a second life as the world’s great idol, they’d also give her a great singing voice, y’know?

Spoilers for the manga, of course as we go along on this explanation. So anime onlies, get caught up before you start reading me ramble.

Here we go:

1. Arima Kana is the embodiment of Amaterasu, not Ruby.

Or at least, Amaterasu’s appointed representative, or her favorite daughter.

To give you a run-down of some of the core Shinto/Japanese Mythology that is important for the story, the Creator God Izanaki had three children:

Amaterasu, Goddess of the Sun.

Tsukuyomi, the Moon.

Susanoo, the Storm.

The story goes that Amaterasu and Susanoo had a competition about who could create better gods. So Amaterasu took Susanoo’s Totsuka-no-Tsurugi* (longsword) and split it into three, from which she birthed the three Munakata goddesses.

And woncha knowit, there are three great actresses born in that year?

*A reminder that Kana plays the character Tsurugi, which literally just means Sword. And Akane’s character Saya-hime just literally means Sheath or Scabbard Princess.

In this bet, Amaterasu got clever with the rules and won on a technicality. Susanoo went on a rampage, destroyed Amaterasu’s ricefield, and flayed Amaterasu’s favorite divine horse*, and then threw its body at her loom.

*The name Arima is spelled with the Kanji of Horse & Exist/Live. 

Amaterasu, in her grief, flees into a cave, believed to be Amano Iwato cave, right in the town of Takachiho, Amamiya Gorou’s hometown, and the death place of  Tendouji Sarina.

The being that draws Amaterasu out of there was the Goddess of the Dawn, known also as the Goddess of the Revelry & Arts, a being that Aqua says he knows well, and believes there’s a grain of truth to:

And how does Ame-no-Uzume draw Amaterasu out of her grief?

By throwing an absolute rager, and dancing really wildly that it catches her attention and makes all the gods around them laugh so hard. Just like:

Ame-no-Uzume will later on marry a diety who tried to block her passage before, Sarutohiko, who in Ise is worshipped as the god who illuminates the world.

That’s some divinity-level AquaKana shipping right there.

Just like how Aka Akasaka wrote the story of Kaguya-sama: Love Is War about two lovers who couldn’t be together just like in the myth of Kaguya, but having his characters overcome all odds to defy divine fate, I do believe that apart from the parallels to the mythology like he did in Kaguya-sama, there is very literal divine intervention this time in Oshi No Ko.

I think what’s happening is that the gods, particularly Amaterasu and Susanoo are quarelling again about who could create better gods, just like before, but now more of whose favored child will shine the brightest and be worshipped by the most humans. But just like last time, Susanoo may have been enraged, especially at the sexual assault of his chosen Hikaru Kamiki, that he possessed him with a corrupting force that urges him to destroy shining stars before they reach their peak, hence the murders of Himekawa Airi, Hoshino Ai**, and Katayose Yura.

Which by the way, the name Hikaru means Radiant Light!

And Hoshino means Field of Stars!

Whether it’s because Amaterasu is angry that every daughter she sends to earth is slaughtered by Susanoo’s chosen, or just because she wants to win their competition, she appoints Ame-no-Uzume to assist in safeguarding her new favored one from Kamiki’s clutches. Her new favored one being Arima Kana.

And therefore, Ame-no-Uzume takes the souls of two motherless humans who had passed before they could shine and sent them to become Hoshino Ai’s twin children. It was all anyway happening in her territory of Takachiho at the most opportune time.

Ame-no-Uzume is also known as The Goddess of Dance, as well as The Great Pursuader. And wouldn’t you know, that’s exactly the gifts that the Hoshino Twins received.

An energetic performer who takes the stage with dance:

And a deceptive, persuasive, extremely believable actor, who:

fooled his own sister into believing she had been rejected from an audition

pretended to scout an idol from a competing agency to research them

get Director Gotanda to raise him and train him

make Akane not just date him, but follow him down a destructive path

convince Kana and Mem to join IchigoPro

impersonate Pieyon for several days straight

Anyway, I truly, truly believe that unbeknownst to Aqua, his true mission is just to keep drawing Kana out of her darkness until she shines the brightest. Which is what he keeps doing anyway:

2. The Timing of the whole Oshi No Ko plot is aligned with Arima Kana’s rise to unprecedented stardom.

The story of Ai Hoshino’s pregnancy and meeting of Gorou Amamiya in a quaint hospital occurs at the beginning of Arima Kana’s life, just after she is born.

She meets Aqua Hoshino around age 4, already talented, and already extremely arrogant which could have easily been the demise of her career. But meeting Aqua and seeing his acting was a necessary wake-up call for her, that it brings her to tears. She never forgets this experience that she brought that lesson with her to her adulthood: that she can’t be satisfied and keep working harder, and to be a better communicator with her colleagues. At their first point of contact, Aqua already becomes the reason why Arima Kana’s acting career survives the slump.

They meet again in high school, when Arima Kana has one acting job in a lackluster production of Sweet Today. The ratings had plummeted, if not for the fact that Aqua came onto the set to draw out the best acting Arima Kana could deliver. After this, Arima receives much more respect and recognition from her colleagues in the industry beyond just being cast to bring some legitimacy to their production.

It’s because of Aqua and Ruby that Kana joins IchigoPro’s Idol Division, and her career is reborn anew. Such that, even after quitting B-Komachi, Arima states she never regretted the decision to join, because otherwise the career of Arima Kana would have been already over. 

It’s because of Aqua’s presence that Arima trains to become better and better as an idol. Aqua kept drawing out the light from Kana’s eyes, to the point that it catches the attention of the crowd who previously had no interest in her.

It’s because of her experience as an idol that she regains the confidence and sense of greed necessary to grab the attention of the audience when on stage, such that even Akane recognizes this change in her when Arima takes the stage as Tsurugi for the 2.5 Adadptation of Tokyo Blade.

And it’s because of all of these that she captures the attention of award-winning Director Masanori Shima, who lines up some roles for her when her acting schedule had dried up. It’s once again because of Kana’s dedication towards Aqua that Shima D finds her so interesting that he was most willing to promise her the best role possible.

It was as if Ame-no-Uzume-no-Mikoto appointed Aqua and Ruby to come draw Arima Kana out of her Cave, and bring the Sun out again, just like how the deity drew out Amaterasu.

If you think about the title of the show, Oshi No Ko, it literally means The Favorite Child. God’s favored child. Arima Kana had been born chosen by Amaterasu from the very beginning. And Ame-no-Uzume is sending Aqua and Ruby to aid on this quest.

Which explains why it seems like there had been a mission communicated to Aqua from the very beginning. And why Ai was never going to be reincarnated at all.

You would think that if The Crow Girl, which we assume is the divine guide Yatagarasu, was communicating with Aqua about his revenge plan or helping him find Kamiki, that Aqua would hold a more favorable relationship with The Crow whenever it appears to give advice, no?

But it’s exactly the opposite. Because The Crow is guiding him into something that is different from his personal goal that Aqua doesn’t understand.

And this is where I think Arima Kana could be put in danger.

3. Arima Kana is Hikaru Kamiki’s next target.

There were earlier theories that thought Kurokawa Akane was the one to die next, because of what people have now learned of Kamiki’s serial murderer profile targeting big celebrities before their peak, and because Akane had received a bouquet of white roses from him when she won an award.

The chapter when it was expected to happen was a fake-out from Aka Akasaka, and some people think it’s still possible that she’s the target. In fact, I keep seeing recent theory videos who discount Kana and say she’s “the safest”. Hah! If only!

The scenes with Shima D weren’t just a mere plot point to bring scandal to Arima’s name, and threaten her career and life enough that it pushes Aqua to reveal his mother’s secret in exchange. But it’s there because this is the upward path for Arima Kana. So far, the only people who have witnessed her dazzling star power have been fans of the Sweet Today manga, idol otakus, and people who attended Tokyo Blade. That’s not really masterpiece-of-the-century, performing-at-the-dome level. None of these gigs have placed her center stage in what could be Film of the Year, and a Best Actress spot. Now, the chance is here, and it’s real:

I think, The 15-Year-Lie will attempt to draw out Hikaru Kamiki, or that Aqua intends to reveal himself in the movie looking like him, and reveal the identity of his father.

But I also think what would happen is that they would be unsuccessful at taking him down completely. Instead, from the movie, he would be interested in Arima Kana, and target her through the course of her Shima D movie, and plan to kill her before an important awards night.

Alternatively, now that Kana is changing her focus to film, she may consider moving agencies, and ask Frill Shiranui about her agent. And if we’re right, she is likely represented by Kamiki Productions.

Either way, Kamiki will pay attention to her and try to kill her just before she reaches her highest.

But I don’t think Arima Kana will die. I think instead of being saved by Aqua, it’ll be Kana who takes Kamiki down. Echoing back to her getting mad at Aqua for thinking that avoiding her was protecting her, and Aqua believing that Kana doesn’t need help since she’s strong enough to take care of herself.

And then maybe, it’s Arima Kana who draws Aqua out of the darkness too.

And, just like with Kaguya and Shirogane Miyuki, Aka Akasaka is once again writing a story about two people who will defy a fate of divine tragedy, and come out of it being more truthful with each other than they’ve been with themselves all along.

[hawkeyeslaughter]

Do you have any (minor) headcanons that you have little to no evidence for but you just believe them as if they were the truth?

oh god of course i do

— the nurses taught klinger how to hem , alter , even make some of his own clothes ; he gets so good at it that sometimes they just come to him with their needs

— the uke ( ? ) that hawkeye has hanging in the swamp ? he knows how to play it surprisingly well , he just never does unless drunker than usual

— radar put soles in his boots one time that made him taller and it took even hawkeye like a solid week to figure out what was different about him ( once he did , though , radar had no refuge from the teasing )

— the nurses hold regular gossip sessions and sometimes compare notes on the guys of the 4077th

— margaret knows how to cut hair , taught herself how to cut her own ( because she got sick of barbers not cutting it the way she wanted ) . has more than once had to come to the rescue of nurses who have marred their hair by taking the scissors to it

— in college bj was a relentless and revered hazer ( which is funny considering he barely got through his own hazing )

— hawkeye’s use of petnames ( “ darling “ , “ sweetheart “ , “ baby “ , etc etc ) are all picked up from trapper . prior to meeting him he hardly ever used them

— when oliver got his orders home , trapper and hawkeye threw him a rager in the swamp and were very badly hungover for their actual goodbye the next day

— father mulcahy has that thing where he hears a tune and can instantly play it on the piano

— charles falls asleep regularly during movie nights hawkeye and beej drag him to , usually on hawkeye’s shoulder

— trapper is colorblind . not like , drastically colorblind , but hawkeye finds out one day and teases him absolutely relentlessly for it

— trapper and oliver always did this bit where they pretended they were whispering things and wouldn’t tell hawkeye what they were saying because it was funny to watch hawkeye get all huffy and annoyed with them

— henry has to do the right / left things with his hands all the time ( PLSASE ITS SO STUPID )

— margaret has a crazy sweet tooth + sometimes bj asks peg to send sweets back specifically for margaret

— potter’s horse or pet names in general very rarely alter because he just can’t be bothered to come up with new creative ones . besides , tried and true always works

— klinger is a pool shark . idk why he is he just is . he has pool shark vibes

— trapper briefly considered going into pediatrics

— charles sometimes has very serious conversations with the camp strays ( mainly just voicing whatever he may be thinking of at the particular moment )

— radar sometimes likes to imagine he’s the protagonist in a superhero world and i mean why not . little dude is literally psychic

— hawkeye has a habit of ripping at his nails , klinger regularly checks them and manicures them for him

— the nurses and swamp rats regularly get involved in prank wars . the nurses are far more clever than some people realize

— hawkeye and trapper stood back to back once to see who was taller and had radar judge ( hawkeye tried to bribe radar to say it was him )

— one time margaret made frank cry so hard he threw up . good for her

— bj has weirdly good reflexes and can catch things while barely looking up , he has a habit of saying “ i knew i should’ve gotten into baseball “

— charles does that thing where someone asks him to do something and he says “ no “ while actively doing it

— the swamp rats are all actively ready to swing on anyone who upsets one of the nurses and that goes double for margaret . sometimes they actually do

— hawkeye has a pair of roller skates . do with this information what you will .

— father mulcahy is a self - taught painter

— henry tells the same stories more than once and hawkeye , trapper , and radar have a mutual agreement to pretend they’ve never heard them whenever this happens

— hawkeye and radar have made many a pinky promise , and never once did one get broken

— charles is surprisingly a god awful secret keeper , he tells most secrets to margaret

— henry is scared shitless of cats

[ladykettlechips]

Beautiful Mess 2 - Ficlet

Turns out I wasn't done with 'Beautiful Mess' - I really enjoyed writing the first part of the ficlet that I ended up writing some more on my longer flight. It's not complete, either; I'm fairly certain there will be a part 3 to this as well because in my head it's not complete.

It's fun writing short snippets of Kanthony in this style! Just so laidback and easy while still showcasing how cute they are together even when Kate thinks Anthony is being annoying ahaha.

Anyway... ENJOY!

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

When Benedict threw an absolute rager for his birthday at Aubrey Hall, Kate found herself falling in love with Anthony a little more.

She’d been drinking – they had all been drinking – since about 2 o’clock so, by the time seven rolled around, Kate was absolutely rat-arsed. Truth be told, she could barely remember left from right, let alone walk straight.

Despite this, she still managed to find her way to the loo and spill her guts down the porcelain bowl.

She dimly remembered someone knocking on the door just moments after she heaved the first time. She recalled the door opening behind her, a deep sigh reverberating deep inside her bones. She had felt caring hands gather up her hair until cool air ticked the back of her sweaty neck and a soothing palm rub up and down her back while she sobbed, hating that she had done this to herself.

Once she was finished, she was half-aware of being picked up until she was slung over a broad back, her chin propped against a very nice shoulder. She allowed herself to fall into a lull of blissful sleep with every step the person took, the warmth of their back seeping into her like a welcoming blanket.

She hadn’t realised they had dropped her into the bed of her designated room until she woke up, nor had she heard them bring a glass of water and set it on the bedside table.

If it wasn’t for the tell-tale scent of sandalwood and pine that still lingered on her shirt and skin, Kate might not have known that it was Anthony who had been with her all along.

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

“You seem to have a penchant for getting me wet, don’t you?”

Heat rushed to Kate’s cheeks as Anthony stared back at her, a rueful grin plastered to his face as beads of Pinot noir rolled off his chin and droplets of red dripped from his hair.

This time it had been accident; how was she supposed to know Anthony would be rounding the corner to enter her kitchen?

Cursing under her breath, Kate slammed her wine glass onto the counter-top and went in search of a tea towel. She should have known it would be a bad idea to invite him to games night, but Benedict had put on a sob-story for his older brother, claiming him to be a lonely, boring loser who had no friends.

So, out of the kindness of her own heart – not a desire to see Anthony, no, no, no – Kate had agreed. And surprisingly, the night had been going as well as one could expect; charades had become chaotically competitive thanks to Anthony and Kate’s need to win and, during the first twenty minutes of Monopoly, Edwina only had to stare her down once for trying to throw a hotel at Benedict’s nose because he was lolly-gagging on whether or not to buy Old Kent Road, for Gods sake.

Around an hour into the game was when she had run out of wine. If she was going to get through a game that Anthony was clearly winning, well, she’d need more to numb the loss, so she’d poured herself a generous glass and grabbed some snacks.

And then Anthony had walked through the door just as she was exiting it.

“You should look where you’re going,” she had muttered, a feeble attempt at trying to regain the upper hand. “Next time it might just be coffee.”

Anthony laughed, clearly less peeved about this shirt than the last one as Kate fished out a printed tea towel Edwina had gifted her donkeys ago. Throwing it towards him, Anthony caught the cloth with one hand.

“You can’t blame me for this one, Kate,” Anthony chuckled, still grinning as he unfolded the towel. “I didn’t even have to open my mouth this time to be doused in… what in the world-”

Kate didn’t even try to hid her smirk as Anthony’s delight morphed into a look of perplexion. His brows drew in, the crease that was permanently nestled between them growing even deeper as he looked at the picture on the tea towel and began to scowl.

“You have to be kidding me- Kate, surely you have another towel on hand?”

Exasperated, Anthony looked between the towel and Kate, his own cheeks growing red. Shaking her head, Kate grinned towards him deviously as she snapped the kitchen drawer shit.

“Sorry, Anthony; the rest of my tea towels won’t be clean until tomorrow. That’s all I have left,” she replied all too sweetly. Grabbing her glass, Kate threw back the remainder of the wine before grabbing the bottle of Pinot noir. “You can leave it on the counter when you’re done, kay?”

And before Anthony could reply, Kate practically swanned out of the kitchen to leave him standing there, seething with quiet rage as he mopped his face with the towel that had been printed with2 a portrait of Newton’s fluffy, round butt.

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

Kate had quickly come to learn that, when invited to tea at Bridgerton House, you did not decline an invitation. Violet Bridgerton was a formidable woman when it came to hosting tea and come Hell or high water, she would somehow strong-arm you into agreeing for a brew with the family.

It wasn’t that Kate was opposed to tea, of course; she enjoyed spending time with Violet and the rest of the Bridgerton clan. It was more that she had been spending too much time with the family these days and, while that was not necessarily a bad thing, it did mean she was constantly in his company.

Him being the one and only Anthony Bridgerton who, at the exact moment Kate took a sip of the god-awful Earl Grey she had been handed, felt his foot nudge hers under the table.

She looked over at him curiously, one eyebrow arched as he glanced over his cup. Tilting his head, Anthony threw Kate the cockiest smirk he could muster before taking a long, drawn out sip of his own tea.

Rolling her eyes, Kate returned her attention to Violet. They had been discussing a party that Violet was planning – something to do with hearts and flowers – when Anthony had so rudely snatched her attention away. Doing her best to ignore him, Kate gave Violet her full attention as she nodded along and took miniscule, polite sips of her disgusting tea and smiled through her grimace.

Violet had began talking about the floral arrangements she had planned – “Lilacs, I think; a symbol of first love.” - when Kate felt another soft tap to the side of her foot, except this time he lingered, his gaze firmly set on her.

Tearing her gaze away from Violet who, thankfully, was gesticulating at some flowers that adorned her tea room, Kate shot Anthony the filthiest glare she could muster and offered him a pointed kick to his shin.

He winced at the force of Kate’s attack but, to his credit, swallowed down his grunt and instead coughed as a cover up.

“Stop kicking me,” Kate mouthed. Really, what had gotten into Anthony? Why was he acting like a child fighting their younger sibling?

Staring at her curiously, Anthony eventually offered her a shrug before draining the rest of his tea. Standing from his seat, he heaved what might have been the heaviest sigh Kate had ever heard and turned to his mother who, as luck would have it, was still happily discussing the flowers in the room to no one in particular.

“Mother,” Anthony said, his voice low and sounding somewhat… disappointed? Kate couldn’t quite place it. “It has been lovely having tea with you and Kate, but I have some work to do. Take care and have a lovely afternoon together.”

And with a kiss to Violet’s forehead and a nod in Kate’s direction, Anthony turned on his heel and practically marched himself out of the room. Unphased by her eldest sons quick departure, Violet smiled over at Kate and picked up the teapot.

“More tea, dear?” she asked, dragging her own empty cup towards the precariously poised spout.

“No, thank you,” Kate smiled with a shake of her head as sh8e took another sip of her half-full tea, wondering absently to herself why Anthony had left so quickly, and why he had been acting so strange.

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

The next time Kate came over for tea with Violet, Anthony was notably abesnt.

Surprisingly, so was her cup of Earl Grey.

“Anthony suggested you might enjoy some chai instead,” Violet smiled, handing Kate a freshly brewed cup of chai. “It took a little time for our staff to perfect it, but I think they have it right. It’s quite lovely, I think.”

Kate stilled in her chair, the tell-tale fragrance of a well-made chai enveloping her as she stared at Violet, her mouth slightly agape. To the Bridgerton matriarchs credit, Violet seemed to ignore Kat’s blatantly rude silence by instead taking a careful sip of her own chai.

“Yes,” Violet murmured, gently placing her cup back down onto its saucer with a small smile. “Quite lovely indeed.”

[ladykailitha]

The Eddie Munson Guide to Dating an Oblivious Jock Part 2

LOL! I am loving the reactions for this. This is going to be part fun, with a little a seriousness, because Steve does have to be built up a bit.

Part 1

*

Step Three and Four: Getting your crush alone and Building Their Self-Esteem

This next two are interchangeable depending on your jock. If you think building their confidence is needed before you get them alone, you’ll need to do that first. But you if think that getting them away from their peer group first is essential to building their confidence; get them alone first.

“I think with Lucas,” Max said, “I would need to get him alone first. Because I don’t think he realizes how much they look down on him.”

Eddie nodded. “I did the opposite way with Steve. I needed build his confidence in front of everyone else, so that they would stop picking on his intelligence.”

Max nodded. She had been there for a couple of those smack downs. And she approved.

Now that you’ve established a shared interest, you’ll want to get them alone with you as often as possible. It’s harder to make moves on oblivious jockus, when there are others around to block you, make fun of your attempts, or even catch on to what your doing. Because if they figure it out before the jock, then they’ll tell him and ruin your plans. You want him to come to you all on his own and not because his friends told him to.

But as I said, I had to build his confidence first.

“Look, I know what a gorgon is,” Steve complained. “And I know what a demogorgon is. But what you just said right now, the gelatinous cube thing? That sounds like something I did at a rager.”

“Can you not talk about your slutty past while we’re talking about D&D, please?” Dustin asked, rolling his eyes.

Steve threw his arms in the air. “I’m not! I’m just saying it sounds stupid.”

“It’s not stupid!” Mike cried. “It nearly ate me. And it destroyed my shield. And and part of my armor!”

“This isn’t real life, man,” Lucas said. “I know we’ve gone up against some pretty heinous shit, but in the game world it’s pretty scary.”

Eddie ran his tongue over his teeth and he grinned that closed mouth grin that made him look condescending. Steve raised an eyebrow, fully expecting Eddie to join in on the dog piling.

“It’s pretty lame, guys,” Eddie said, kicking back and putting his feet up on the table, interlocking his fingers behind his head. “In fact it was pretty pathetic you got caught in it all.”

Steve pointed to Eddie. “See?”

Eddie grinned. “I was bored. And we weren’t really moving forward in the campaign so I threw it at you to see what you would do. And Mike pretty much tripped and fell into it.”

Dustin, Mike, and Lucas all winced.

“And Steve is allowed an opinion,” Eddie growled. “Even to an outsider, a gelatinous cube sounds lame. Now everyone apologize to Steve.”

The three boys looked at each other in shame and they mumbled their apologies.

Steve straightened up.

Once you start building up his esteem, give your jock opportunities to show off his intelligence.

Steve was waiting for Eddie to divvy up gold and experience. He frowned at all the stats they were rattling off.

“How do you keep track of all this stuff?” he asked.

“Well,” Mike said with a sneer, “if you weren’t so slow...”

“Hey,” Will defended. “You try remembering all that stuff with three concussions.”

Eddie just shook his head. “It’s not about intelligence, Steve. It’s about interest.”

Dustin frowned. “No it’s not.”

“I can prove it,” Eddie replied. Steve had his hands on his hips, his mouth a firm line. “Hey, Steve whose team is arguably the best in the NBA?”

Steve’s frown deepened, but he starting talking about who had the best defense and whose offense was superior before landing on a specific team.

All four boys stared at him in shock.

“Now who understood that?” Eddie asked, gleefully rubbing his hands together.

Lucas raised a tentative hand.

Eddie nodded. “Because you’re interested, right?”

The boy nodded.

“Hey, Steve?” Eddie called again, this time Steve looked a little less leery. “Who do you think will win the World Series this year? Not your favorite team, but the best one overall.”

Steve’s eyes lit up. And he rambled on for about five minutes explaining who had the best chances of going all the way.

Again all mouths remained slack jawed and all eyes remained wide open.

Eddie grinned. “Now who understood that?”

Will raised his hand. “A little. My dad used to watch baseball.”

Mike nodded. “I understood that a little bit more than I did the basketball.”

“That’s because someone you know would watch it all the time,” Eddie said, “that you kinda pick up a little bit. But you wouldn’t be able to rattle off those stats yourself, right?” He leaned forward, putting his hands on the table.

Mike and Will shook their heads.

“It’s just like I can name all of Metalica’s albums or my five classes in D&D,” Eddie continued. “Steve isn’t slow or stupid. He just has different interests. And it’s not as though you had all that D&D stuff memorized when you first started. And I bet Steve didn’t either, but years of watching and playing gave him that knowledge.”

“How did you know Steve could do that?” Dustin asked.

Eddie laughed. “He and my Uncle Wayne get together on the weekends when I’m practicing with my band to watch sports. They are often argue stats.”

Steve stared at him in shock and then blushed. “I didn’t realize you were about paying attention.”

Eddie just smiled.

Once you’ve given him chances to show off his smarts, make sure you shut down further attempts from his friends to insult his intelligence.

Steve was cleaning up after movie night with the help of Eddie and some very reluctant gremlins.

“You guys made the mess,” Steve insisted. “You get to clean up. Except Max, who, you know, is still using crutches?”

Max smiled up from the couch. “I get to supervise!”

Steve laughed. “Which you won’t use to lord over us at all...” he said sarcastically.

She just grinned bigger.

Steve started by handing out assignments. Lucas was on garbage duty, Will and El were on dishes (the only two Steve trusted not to break anything), Dustin was on vacuum duty, and Mike was wiping down counters.

Mike rolled his eyes. “This isn’t a sport, Steve. Just tell us to clean up and we’ll do it.”

Eddie paused from where he was putting away the food in the fridge. “No you won’t.”

Dustin frowned. “What? Yes we will.”

Eddie scoffed harder. “No, you won’t. As evidenced by how you guys clean up after D&D.”

Lucas stopped picking up the garbage. “We help.”

“You do,” Eddie agreed. “Will, too. But Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum here,” he pointed to Dustin and Mike, “will sit on their asses and chat about the campaign, while the rest of us clean up.”

Dustin and Mike opened their mouths to argue, but Eddie leveled a glare at them and they closed them again.

“Besides,” Will said, “there’s nothing wrong with everyone being assigned a task. It gets everything done quicker so we can all go home.”

Steve smirked. “And order isn’t just about sports. Even you guys have an order in your game, right? Initiative, right?”

“But that’s different,” Mike whined.

Eddie grinned. “You remembered!”

The boys paused and then turned to Steve with open mouths.

“I told you guys it was about interest,” Eddie said. “Right, Steve?”

Steve grinned. “Right, Eds.”

“I still can’t believe he missed the fact that you paid attention to his interests,” Max said, rolling her eyes.

Eddie shrugged. “I think he was impressed, but didn’t want to get his hopes up.”

“I mean Steve gives as good as he gets most of the time,” Max said, “but even I didn’t realize what a number they’ve done on his self-esteem until you started calling it out.”

Eddie shrugged. “I don’t think anyone realized it was affecting him. Because like you said, he can bitch with the best of them.”

“It’s some times the questions are dumb,” she said, a bit defensively.

“You talking about the vampire/Vecna comment?” Eddie asked.

She blushed. “That’s one of them, yeah.”

“Is it really that outrageous that the Upside Down might have vampires?”

She paused and thought about it. She huffed a laugh. “No I suppose not.”

Getting your jock alone. Depending on their friend group this can either be very easy (offering to do something together that the rest of the friends don’t want to do) or very difficult (having friends that are willing to go outside their comfort zone to spend time with them).

“Steve must have been a hard one to get alone,” Max said.

“Very,” Eddie agreed. “And it wasn’t just people wanting to hang out with him, it was someone or several someones wanting rides. So I had to get get creative.”

Steve showed up the government funded house with Robin in tow.

“Buckley,” he greeted warmly. “I didn’t realize you were coming, too. I only got stuff for two of us.”

Steve blushed. “We looked up the movie at work and she thought it sounded interesting. I guess I should have called before we came over.”

Robin on the other hand looked unapologetic. “It’s fine, I brought my own goodies!” She held up a bag of Twizzlers and a bottle of soda.

Eddie sighed and let them both in. He put in the movie and sat in the middle of the sofa, forcing Robin and Steve to sit on either side.

“Why do you get the middle?” Robin asked.

“My house, therefore I get the best seat,” Eddie said smugly.

Steve looked around him to look at Robin in the eye. “He’s got a point, Robs. Plus, we did surprise him with your presence.”

Robin rolled her eyes and settled into watch the movie.

Eddie had seen it before so there weren’t even anything so much as a thrill, but Robin had her hands in front of her face, fingers spread so that she close them in a hurry if she needed to.

What Eddie loved was when Steve jumped twice. Because each time he jumped, he got closer to Eddie. By the time the ominous warning came at the end he was practically glued to Eddie’s side.

“Nope, nope, nope...” Robin said. “Never again. I don’t even like old horror, I’ve decided.”

Eddie shrugged. “I mean I was assuming that Steve and I were going to watch it together and he was going to preview it for you. Like he usually does.”

Robin’s jaw dropped as she looked at a smug Eddie and a Steve that had “I told you so” written all over his face. It wasn’t mocking or cruel.

She crumpled. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have crashed your movie night. It was mean and apparently stupid. I won’t be doing that again, that’s for sure.”

“How the hell did Steve not recognize his own moves when thrown directly in his face?” Max asked, rolling her eyes.

“Obliviousness is their best trait after all,” Eddie teased. But the smile slid from his face. “With Steve?”

“Yes,” she said, realizing he was about to drop something deep about the boy she considered her brother.

“I think it’s because in all the time he’s dated, he’s never once been the one that got taken care of,” he murmured. “He’s had to shoulder all the emotional burden. So cuddling up on the sofa watching a scary movie didn’t register because he’s always watched those kind of movies alone first and never had someone to lean on when he got frightened.”

“That sucks,” she deadpanned. “I’m glad he has you, Eddie.”

“Me too,” he said softly. “Me too.”  

Now that you’ve established that there won’t be any further interference from the best friend, set up a regular time to do the activity. That way it becomes a routine that when asked if they’re doing something at that time, they’ll say they have plans.

“Come on, Steve,” Dustin said. “We want to go to the arcade today, they’re having a two-for-one special on pizza when you buy a game pass.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I told you have plans. Ask someone else.”

Dustin let out an exasperated sigh. “We did. We asked Eddie, but he has plans, too!”

Steve raised an eyebrow.

“You know, we call our jocks oblivious,” Max said, “but their friends can certainly be dense fuckers too.”

Eddie laughed. “I know, right?”

She shook her head. “Who did they think you had plans with?”

Eddie shrugged. “My bandmates would be my guess.”

“But then you would have said that,” she said exasperated. “Who did they think Steve had plans with?”

Eddie laughed.

“Robin will be fine if you don’t spend every waking moment with her,” Dustin continued, rolling his eyes. “When was the last time you went to the arcade with us?”

Steve’s other eyebrow shot up. “Last week, dude. And the week before that. I have plans. Both Mike and Will have siblings that drive. Hell, now that Argyle is back in town, I bet he would love to try out the arcade, he’s never been.”

Dustin looked leery. Steve threw his arms in the air and stormed over to the phone. He pulled the rolodex of party numbers that he kept on the counter closer to him and hit “A”. It went to Argyle’s number and he dialed it.

“Bro!” Argyle greeted.

“Hey, it’s Steve,” he said with a smile.

“My dude,” Argyle said cheerfully. “How can I help you on this fine fine day?”

“Hey, the kids wanted to go to the arcade today,” Steve explained, “But Eddie and I have plans, so I was wondering if you wanted to go. They have a special on pizza today and they wanted in on that.”

“You said the magic word, my dude!” Argyle said. “Pizza is my middle name. I just don’t know where the nugs live.”

“You know where I live, though, right?” Steve asked.

“Of course, man,” Argyle said with a grin. “Biiiig house. Hard to forget.”

Steve laughed. “You can pick Dustin up here and then he can direct you to the other ‘nugs’ houses.”

“Sounds totally awesome, my man!” Argyle said happily. “I’ll there in fifteen.”

Steve hung up and turned to Dustin with a raised eyebrow. “Now was that so difficult?”

Dustin sighed. “No...”

“I remember that!” Max said. “Argyle brought Jonathan and they were way more fun then with Steve because they didn’t try and mother hen us.”

Eddie laughed. “He just gets worried because he’s seen you guys in way too many situations that were literally life or death. It kinda skews things.”

Max clicked her tongue. “That’s fair.” She paused for a moment. “So we’ve established a routine, what’s next?”

Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @this-is-mycrisis @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @chaoticlovingdreamer @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @artiststarme @steddie-there @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @thebrazilianatheist @rozzieroos @whalesharksart @mightbeasleep 

[brave-and-gentle]

Girl dad!Jean Kirstein - Happy Birthday Edition

In celebration of our man's birthday!

Pairings: Jean x afab! reader

Summary: Modern AU - You find out that you and Jean are unexpectedly going to be parents, and the baby is due on Jean's birthday.

Warnings: None, this is a continuation of super wholesome girl dad Jean

EB's Notes: I wish I could've fully fleshed this out, but alas, I'm working on two fics so a bulleted list is the best I can give rn <3 also I don't know what it's like to be pregnant or give birth so?? I did my best?? Plz enjoy and celebrate our Jean boy!

It's September when you find out that you're pregnant. One missed period isn't a big deal, but two? That plus how your stomach swirls every morning. You can't keep anything down until mid-afternoon. You silently blame the Fourth of July rager Eren threw every year. You and Jean had never been the patriotic type, but you two enjoyed the party (maybe a little too much thanks to Connie handing you drinks all night) and got a little careless after the night's festivities.

One night when Jean comes home from work, you decide to tell him. “Um, Jean?” Lacking words, you hold out the pregnancy test. Your hands shake. You had talked about having kids together, but it was always some distant future, certainly not now. He takes the stick and stares at it for what seems like forever. You wonder if you have to explain to him that it's a pregnancy test – is he really that dense? But then he looks up, hazel eyes glowing in the sunset streaking through the windows, and wraps you in his arms. “It's going to be okay, no matter what we do,” he whispers and kisses the top of your head. “I know it's not great timing and I'm not sure I'll ever really feel ready,” you begin, voice trembling, “but I think I want this. A baby. With you.” Jean leans down to press his forehead to yours. “Then I think we're going to have an adventure,” he grins.

Jean is overjoyed when you two find out that the baby is due in early April. “Do you think they'll be born on my birthday?” He asks, excitement rippling through his six-foot-two frame as he stares at the sonogram. You roll your eyes. “I didn't realize you could tolerate sharing a birthday with anyone.” Jean made a big deal about his birthday every year – mostly because he wanted to see what you would come up with for him. “Anything for our little one,” he affirms and caresses your slight bump.

Jean is the perfect partner to have a baby with – almost too perfect. It's almost irritating how much he dotes on you, but you remind yourself that he's doting on the baby too - “Baby K” or “little one,” he calls them interchangeably. He supplies you with all kinds of ginger snacks for morning sickness, researches all the baby stuff you'll need, asks a million questions at every appointment, gives you a massage every night, and takes over the majority of the household chores. Connie and Sasha tease that they never see him anymore because he's “whipped for two.”

You start to feel contractions on the evening of April 6th. Frantic, Jean calls the doctor, who says to wait until they're closer together. Neither of you fall asleep that night – you simply lie in bed, counting the minutes between contractions together. In the wee hours of April 7th, you decide it's time. Jean carries you to the car, packs the hospital bag, and hyperventilates all the way there. “For god's sake Jean, we're not even there yet!”

For all his hyperventilating in the car, Jean manages to calm down once your contractions and labor pains ramp up. It's pain unlike anything you've ever experienced – like someone is twisting all your organs together and rearranging them. All modesty is out the window. With so much sweat sliding down your body, you throw off the hospital gown and are stark naked in front of Jean and the nurses. Jean holds you hand the entire time and rubs your sweat-slicked back as you contort yourself into any position that will get the baby out as fast as possible. “C'mon baby, you're doing great! Almost there, almost there!” He encourages with confidence, but his face is as pale as the hospital bed sheets. You know Jean well enough to know that on the inside, he's border line having a panic attack.

You let out one final scream, one final push, and ear-piercing cries fill the room. “You have a baby girl!” The nurse announces and places your daughter on your chest. She's covered in all kinds of fluid and is screaming so loud your ears ache, but you don't care. You cradle her in awe that she's this little combination of you and Jean that will someday grow into her own. Jean pulls closer and wraps his arm around you and places his hand on your daughter's back. His entire hand is almost bigger than her. “She's so small,” he whispers. His earthy hazel eyes begin misting.

When Jean holds his daughter for the first time, his misty eyes give way to a rainstorm. “I can't believe we have a daughter – we made an entire human,” he blubbers and snuggles her close. “Don't forget who did most of the work,” you groan and roll over on your side to watch the two loves of your life. Jean lowers your daughter from his chest to gaze down at her. His eyes light up. “Hey babe, look, I think she's got my face!” You laugh because sure enough, she does have a longer face than most babies you've seen.

When the nurse takes your daughter to get cleaned up, Jean nibbles your ear. Heat flushes your face. “So when do you think we can -” You bat him away. “Don't even think about, Kirstein.” “C'mon babe, I'm starved!” He pleads. “NO. You don't even want to see my pussy right now, it's wrecked.” Jean crosses his arms. “I'll have you know that I saw everything, probably more than you did, and I still want your pussy. But alright alright, maybe in a month or so. Maybe we could make another one. . .” He trails off and grins. You widen your eyes. “If she's got your attitude? We stop with her,” you counter. “But,” Jean says, “if she's like you? We should have three more.” You groan and throw a pillow at him.

A few hours later, Connie, Sasha, and Marco come parading in with chocolate cupcakes. “When I asked Nicolo to make cupcakes for your birthday, I didn't realize there would be two birthdays,” Sasha laughs and hands a cupcake to Jean, who wolfs it down in one hand while cradling your daughter in the other. “More importantly,” Marco says and hands you a cupcake, “congratulations. I'm glad everything went well.” You grin and take the cupcake. “Thanks Marco.” Jean grabs another cupcake and holds it in the air. “To you,” he says your name, “for giving me the best birthday present I could've ever asked for.” Tears shimmer in his eyes again. Your heart blossoms at the sight of your best friends all here for you. “Who knew Jean boy was such a cry baby,” Connie mutters and munches on his cupcake. “Ouch!” He cries as Sasha hits him on the head. “Happy birthday Jean,” you laugh and roll your eyes because you know for the rest of your life, he's going to be insufferable about how great it is to share a birthday with his daughter. “You're never getting one like this again.”

[bordysbae]

can u do a luca blurb where there’s like an argument and it’s like luca and his gf vs someone else and it’s the two like sticking up for each other? i hope that makes sense

“a new side of you”

luca fantilli x f!reader

warning: profanity and underage drinking

despite the ending of frozen four not being what everyone was hoping, the boys still threw themselves a party as soon as they got back to michigan, just because of how far they had made it. it’s also a party to say their “formal” goodbyes to the seniors, and the boys who won’t be returning next year due to upcoming signings with the big league.

the party isn’t a rager, but it sure isn’t small either. there are people everywhere, but the only person you care to find is your boyfriend luca. you got caught up in a conversation with johnny while luca went to get another drink, not even realizing luca hadn’t come back in quite some time. you eventually find him in a conversation with one of his classmates. you’ve met the guy before but he’s nothing special. in your opinion he has a bland personality and thrives off of his daddy’s money, but since he’s friends with a few of the guys, you almost always see him at parties.

“jonah, hey!” you greet him, as luca wraps an arm around your shoulder.

“oh hey, y/n right?” jonah nods his head towards you as his form of addressing you.

“uh, yeah,” you say, annoyed by him already. you know he knows your name since you guys have met over five times, but he chooses to have a douche bag persona. “not like we haven’t met already” you mumble under your breath making luca chuckle.

“what’d you say?” jonah asks you, straightening his back. you look up from your cup at him, and chuckle at his new tough-boy stance.

“nothing, what were you guys talking about before i got here? i didn’t mean to interrupt,” you say in an attempt to change the topic.

“no, fucking tell me what you said,” jonah blurts out, startling both you and luca.

“dude relax. i didnt even say anything, chill out man,” you scoff.

“someone’s on their period. control your woman fantilli,” jonah jokes. your mouth falls agape at his statement.

“what did you just say to me? i’m on my what?”

“you heard me,” jonah chuckles before taking a sip of his drink.

“watch your fucking mouth douchebag. don’t fucking say that shit about my girlfriend! especially right in front of her or me,” luca starts up.

“oh it was a joke relax, you can’t even talk like you’re some big guy anyways! you warm the bench, and you guys lost in the frozen four. just chill out luca you’re not some hotshot,” jonah exclaims. your mouth falls agape, and lucas whole body tenses up.

before you can even think, your mouth just starts running, “oh you wanna talk about hot shots? you thrive on daddy’s money and think everyone is in love with you. newsflash, just because you never went d1 for hockey after high school, doesn’t mean being friends with the team makes you important. honestly, they all think you’re a dick. and so what if luca doesn’t get the absolute most playing time? he still went d1, unlike someone else in this conversation”

luca chuckles at your words, and this makes jonah even more pissed. “you think i’m gonna listen to you? don’t you have a fucking nail appointment to go to?”

“jonah you sound like an idiot. pulling out misogynistic ‘insults’ like that’s gonna do anything? just accept the fact you’re in the wrong, it’ll be the only good thing you ever did. notice how i’m the one in a relationship, and you can barely get a girl in your bed unless she’s intoxicated? which by the way is horrible in itself, but that’s a conversation for another time. just go home bud.” luca declares.

despite the topic of conversation, you can’t help yourself but be attracted to this side of luca. you’ve never seen him act out this way, and him defending you like this is only making the attraction worse. the heavily intoxicated jonah flips you both off and makes his way back into the pool of people, leaving you and luca alone in the kitchen.

“that was a new side of you. i liked that” you admit, making luca blush ever so slightly.

“oh yeah?” he laughs, and pulls you closer to his body so that you’re now against his chest looking up at him.

“i’m sorry about that, he’s an asshole.” luca says to you softly but loud enough for you to hear over the music.

“no i’m sorry. he said some rude things about you babe, don’t listen to him he’s just jealous”

“eh, i don’t mind. i get enough chirping from adam anyways,” luca chuckles and kisses the top of your head. you both embrace each other a little bit more before heading back to the swarm of people throughout the rest of the house. you guys went back to luca’s dorm afterwards and spent the rest of the night in each others arms, never forgetting the moment you two shared tonight.

[galexystern]

saving all my love for you

pairing; steve harrington/reader

rating; T

warnings; angst, fluff, mutual pining, not actually unrequited love, love confessions, accidental love confessions, getting together, no use of y/n, steve calls reader "peach"

word count; 5.2k

desc; “Um,” someone who doesn’t sound at all like Beth and a whole lot like Steve says. “Peach?”

You freeze, complete and utter dread filling your body. You slowly lower the phone and look at the caller ID. Staring back at you, in all caps, is the name Steve Harrington.

read on ao3 / masterlist

"Will you please, for the love of god," Beth interrupts your rambling, "either tell him all this or shut the fuck up?"

You close your mouth and look at her with a disgruntled pout.

She sighs. "Sorry, that was mean." You shrug. "I'm just trying to study and you know how important it is I do well on this test." You don't want to, but eventually nod a little. You do know. "I love you," she reassures, "and you know I'm always here to listen, but you do realize this is all starting to sound a bit...pathetic?" She says it not unkindly, with gentle eyes.

Your shoulders droop. It doesn't sound a bit pathetic, it sounds a lot pathetic. You've been complaining to Beth that you've been in love with Steve Harrington for oh...nine years now? Wow, it's been that long? You wince at the thought, and Beth rubs your shoulder soothingly.

It's not your fault you've been in love with Steve Harrington for nine years. He's the one who defended you from bullies in third grade, getting back the peach they'd stolen from your lunch. He's the one who gave it back to you with that sweet smile and hair that had just started growing into the luscious mane it is now. He's the one who became your friend from then on, turning into your closest (male) confidante and staunchest supporter. And he's the one who's been calling you "Peach" since then, making your knees go weak whenever he says it and gives you that smirk.

"I still can't believe you like him, to be honest," Beth says, breaking your reverie. "His King Steve phase was super disturbing."

You roll your eyes. Yes, Steve in his "king of high school" days had been hard to like—the constant rotation of girls he had on his arm, the ragers he threw that always got the cops called on them, the rude and slightly misogynistic behavior that made your skin crawl. But he never directed any of that at you. You were still his Peach, and the Steve you'd known since third grade came back around, complete with apologies and big gestures to make up for his actions. Sure, you'd been a little sad he hadn't wanted you to be on his arm, and you two hadn't been as close during that stage, but it was probably for the better. Being a "hit it and quit it" for the guy you're desperately in love with might've broken your heart for good.

"I can't go over that again with you right now," you reply to Beth. "You've got a test to study for." She gives you an unimpressed look. "And I," you continue, packing up the remains of your lunch, "have a tutoring session to get to."

You stand but Beth grabs your arm, stopping you. "Will you tell him?" She asks, almost pleadingly.

You know she knows the answer to that. You've been trying to tell him for a year now, since you realized high school is ending soon and he'll be gone. You won't see him every day, won't talk to him in classes you have together, certainly won't be tutoring him three times a week. But when you look at those honey-hazel eyes, long lashes brushing against his skin when blinks slowly at you, piercing you with his gaze, you always, without fail, chicken out.

"I'll try," you promise Beth and she half-smiles. It's the best she's gonna get and she knows that too well. She lets go of your arm and you walk towards the building, collecting your thoughts. As you enter and direct yourself to the library, you think maybe today will be the day you confess to Steve. Maybe it's really time. Maybe you can do it.

Opening the library doors, you spot Steve sitting at a table off to the side, daydreaming. He's tapping a pencil against his lips and leaning back in his chair precariously, staring off into space. You try not to smile at how cute he looks, instead staying quiet as you sneak up from the side. You drop your bag moderately loudly on the table and bite your lip to hold back laughter as Steve jolts, making his chair tip back and almost pitching himself backwards, before he catches his balance and sets the chair right again. He gives you a playful glare as you sit down, still trying not to burst out laughing.

"Not nice, Peach," he says petulantly, and you shrug. The nickname has stolen any words you'd had prepared, so you just pull out your calculus textbook and notebook, flipping to a fresh sheet. As Steve does the same, he asks, "And how are you today?"

"Alright," you reply with a small smile. "How are you?"

He makes a face. "I'd be better if I didn't have to worry about math so much." But then he smiles brightly and adds, "But seeing you makes up for it."

Your heart pounds. See, he says things like this that make hope blossom inside you and you think you're finally ready to admit your love for him.

But with the way he's gazing at you, grin on his face, body leaned forward over the table towards you, losing yourself in his eyes, the words die in your throat. He's not for you; you don't deserve him. You're just some girl he'd stood up for one time nine years ago, and he's Steve Harrington, the most eligible bachelor at Hawkins High. He has girls lining up to go out with him and what do you have? A hopeless crush and marching band practice after school.

"Well, with me here, hopefully you won't have to worry about math for much longer," you respond with feigned lightness. He chuckles. "Shall we?"

He nods and you two dive into calculus equations. He's a very diligent pupil, always has been, listening carefully and taking detailed notes. You can tell he really wants to pass this class. He's admitted to you on multiple occasions that he can't wait to get out of Hawkins. When you ask him where he wants to go, he always changes his answer—a little inside joke that makes your stomach thrill. Last time you'd asked he'd said Rome, so he could eat gelato and drink wine every day, and live in an ancient city. He has a soft spot for history.

Out of nowhere, the bell rings, and you and Steve both jump at the sound. You'd been so engrossed in learning math that you hadn't noticed how the time had flown by, an hour passing in what felt like a few minutes.

As you pack up, Steve says, "Hey, Peach." You look up at him. "You busy today?" You open your mouth but he beats you to it. "I know you have band. After that." Closing your mouth, surprised he remembered, you eventually shake your head. "Wanna hang? I've acquired some ah, mood enhancers." At his wink, you snicker.

"Sure," you answer. "I could use a mood change."

Steve smiles. "Great. Our spot? 4pm?" You nod; he nods back. "See you then, Peach."

With that, he gives you a salute and bounds away, out of the library and disappearing into the streaming crowd of students. You follow him, shaking your head.

;

You trample through the underbrush on your way to Skull Rock. Beth had asked if you wanted to hang after practice, to make up for lunch, but you'd blushed and said you were smoking with Steve. She'd given you a coy look and wiggled her eyebrows, making you shove her in embarrassment.

But then she'd gone serious. "It's time, okay?" She'd said. "This is the perfect time for you to confess."

You'd told her earlier that the tutoring session confession had not panned out. Looking at her, understanding the weight she was putting on her words, knowing she only wanted you to be happy, you'd nodded mutely.

"Good. Call me tonight," she'd added. "I wanna hear every detail." You'd promised to call her and given her a hug before parting ways and heading for the forest.

You've always liked walking through the trees to meet Steve, the tiny bursts of light through the foliage spontaneously warming your face. It'd rained last night and so the ground was damp and muddy, but you were wearing your gross pair of sneakers, since the field had been much of the same, so you didn't mind. Your socks were wet but it didn't matter. You were about to see Steve and maybe, hopefully, tell him the truth.

Skull Rock comes into view and a minute later, you could see Steve sitting underneath it. You internally scrunch up in girlish excitement at how he'd brought and spread out a mat for you two to sit on, so you don't get wet from the dirt.

He looks up and spots you, waving. You wave back as you tramp through the last of the growth and reach him. Throwing your bag to the side, you collapse onto the tarp as Steve licks and finishes rolling the joint he'd been working on.

"How was practice, Peach?" He asks.

"Ugh," you reply, and he laughs. "This new show is going to kill me. There are so many movements on the field, I'm not sure if I can remember them all."

"You always do though," he points out. "You get it eventually."

You shrug, hiding your delight that he knows that. He does make a point of watching the halftime shows at the football games and seeing you during third quarter, when the band is allowed to mingle. Of course, he goes to the games no matter what, as a certified sports lover, but still.

"Ready?" He asks, interrupting your thoughts. You nod, and he hands you the joint and lighter. You click it on and hold it up to the end, flaring as you inhale deeply. You hold the smoke in your mouth as you give the joint back to Steve, releasing it into the sky as he copies your actions. He outdoes you by making a ring of smoke out of his exhale, and you roll your eyes.

"Show-off," you mutter.

Steve smirks. "I can teach you, you know. You just always turn me down."

You look at him. You do turn him down each time. You're not even really sure why. You tutor him, why can't he? "Okay," you finally reply. "Teach me."

His eyes light up and he scoots towards you. He starts talking, about technique and mouth shape and how your tongue should be involved, but you're only half-listening. You're too captivated by how animated he is, how excited he seems to be by instructing you in something for a change. There are traces of pride in his voice, and you think he might be pleased at the idea of being so good at something that he can give that to others. He's mentioned that fear before, that he doesn't have anything to offer people, even though you always reassure him he has so much.

"Peach? Wanna try?" Steve asks. You clear your head and take the proffered joint. You inhale and try to do what he's told you, accomplishing a rudimentary half-smoke ring. He claps. "That's it! Now you just need practice."

So you practice. You two wear the joint away attempting more rings, Steve giving you pointers as you go. When the joint is just a nub, you take one last inhale and close your eyes, working hard to take all of his advice and try one last time. Steve makes an excited sound and you open your eyes, seeing a pretty good smoke ring floating away from you.

"You did it!" He exclaims excitedly, as you laugh in delight. "The student has become the master."

"I'm not sure if I'd go that far," you reply, but you're still smiling widely. Steve's face matches.

"Well, I have nothing left to teach you. You've got it now."

"You'll always have stuff to teach me, Steve," you say softly, remembering that fear that plagues him. He looks at you with a grateful expression. "Besides," you continue, "I still don't know how to drive."

"I can't believe you don't know how to drive!" He replies indignantly and you giggle. This is an argument you two have had ever since his parents had given him his BMW and he'd asked if you wanted to drive it. After revealing you didn't have a license, Steve had been properly shocked and bewildered. He's never understood why you don't want to drive.

It's not about not wanting to drive (though driving is scary). It's more about wanting Steve to keep driving you.

"You know how I feel about driving," you say back and he rolls his eyes.

"Driving is not that scary. I promise, Peach." An idea comes to him. "It's just like marching band!" At your raised eyebrow he adds, "Hear me out. You have to remember all the moves the car can do. You have to maneuver so you don't hit anybody else on the road. And it gives you a feeling of control."

You laugh. "You know I don't make up the movements, right?"

He rolls his eyes. "Whatever. You know what I mean."

You nod. Trying to stay light, you say, "Maybe you can teach me."

"Yes!" He shouts loudly, startling you. "Sorry. But yes. I can totally teach you how to drive."

"Okay." You're smiling at each other.

"Great," he replies firmly. "It's a date."

The words make you freeze. The small voice in your head that sounds weirdly like Beth is telling you this is the moment. This is your opening. Take it.

"Um, Steve," you start. He hums, still staring at you with kind curiosity. "I, um, I wanted to..." You trail off.

He nods encouragingly. "You wanted to...what?"

But as he gazes at you, the words won't come. You try to force them out, not caring how they come out, just that they do, but there's nothing. Your mouth gapes like a fish. Your throat is dry. And you just...can't.

"I wanted to," you manage with a croak, "thank you. For teaching me how to make a smoke ring."

He sits back and you think you see a flash of disappointment on his face before it's gone. "No problem, Peach. What are friends for?"

You nod miserably. Coward.

;

Steve takes you home. It's quiet in the car, both of you deep in thought. You don't know what Steve is thinking about, but you're admonishing yourself for backing out, again. God, you're such a loser. What will Beth say?

He pulls into your driveway and idles. You get out, thanking him again for the hangout, and he nods amiably. You close the door softly and walk up to your porch, turning around to watch him back out and drive away. You sigh as you unlock the door and go inside.

You put off calling Beth for a while. You know you have to, she's expecting you to, but you want to live in this moment where only you know how much of a chicken you are just a little longer. So you have a snack, and something to drink, and finish your homework. Your parents come home and you help make dinner to distract yourself from the day's humiliating non-events. You push your food around the plate as your parents chatter about work, thankfully not asking you too many questions. The three of you sit and watch TV for a bit, but you don't really see any of it, mind still stuck on Steve.

When your parents give you kisses goodnight and head upstairs for bed, you know it's time to stop procrastinating. You take a deep breath, pick up the phone, and dial.

As soon as the line is picked up, you start talking. "Hey, so I know you said today was the day but I chickened out, again. I know I'm a coward. You were right, it was the perfect time. I mean, Steve asks me to smoke in our spot, just the two of us? What better time to confess my love for him, right? There is no better time, that's the truth. But I just couldn't do it. I couldn't make myself speak the words. It's so pathetic, right? Ugh, I can't believe I let that perfect moment pass me by. I'm such a sissy. You don't have to tell me, I already know. I just wanted you to know, since you told me to call. But I can't really handle any scolding, yeah? I know what I did. I know."

There's a lull until...

“Um,” someone who doesn’t sound at all like Beth and a whole lot like Steve says. “Peach?”

You freeze, complete and utter dread filling your body. You slowly lower the phone and look at the caller ID. Staring back at you, in all caps, is the name Steve Harrington.

“Peach?” He says again, distantly. It breaks your trance and you immediately hang up the phone. It starts to ring almost instantly, and you stare at it, brain somehow going a mile a minute and not at all. The rings stop but then start up again. Unable to pick up the phone, you find your hand moving to the telephone jack. As the phone stops and then goes again for the third time, you pull it out of the wall. The noises stop. Silence fills the kitchen. And you finally understand what just happened.

“Oh my god,” you mutter, over and over, still holding the telephone cord, still gazing at the receiver. Your knees start to wobble and so you stumble backwards, grappling for a chair, eventually grazing the back of one and whipping it around so it can catch you before you fall. “What have I done?” You moan, burying your face in your hands and pressing down hard. Maybe when you open your eyes you’ll be in bed and this will just be some bad dream and you won’t have ruined everything. But when you move your hands away, you’re still sitting in the kitchen, phone disconnected, terror gripping you tightly.

Not a dream. You did ruin everything.

Digging for strength, you use it all to rush out of the room and upstairs to your bedroom, where you slam the door closed and pitch yourself onto your bed. What have I done? You ask yourself again. You stare unseeing at your headboard, clutching your pillow, as you helplessly think about what might happen next.

Well, for one, you can bet that Steve’s not your friend anymore. That’s a given. But will he avoid you forever, ignore you in the halls at school, not let your name pass his lips anymore? Or will he make fun of you for your confession, saying that he’d never be with anyone like you in a million years, that he was just friends with you out of pity? Will he tell everyone, spread it around that a loser like you thinks she has a shot with King Steve, let the rumor mill rip you to shreds?

Will you make it out of this? You’re not sure if you can handle any of these outcomes. It’s why you’d chickened out in the first place, why you’ve always chickened out. Maybe you’ll have to change schools or even districts. Oh god, what if you have to move states to get away from the torture of it all?

You’re spiraling further down when there’s a small plinking sound. You stop and listen, and it comes again. A third time and you follow the noise to the window. You watch in wonder as something hits it—a pebble. You hesitantly walk over and peer outside.

Steve is standing below on your front lawn, hand reared back like he’s ready to throw. But when he spots you, he drops the rock and waves. You raise a hand back without thinking, and he motions for you to open your window. As you do, you distantly think that he would be a good charades partner. You slowly poke your head outside.

“Peach!” Steve yells quietly.

“What are you doing?” You ask, stupefied.

“You wouldn’t answer my calls,” he replies.

Dumbly, you say back, “I unplugged the phone.”

“Oh.” He seems thrown by that. “Do you…want me to go then?” It takes a second, but eventually you shake your head. He smiles in relief. “Can we talk?”

“My parents are home,” you answer and Steve’s shoulders fall. “But can you climb a tree?”

“Yeah?” The word is laced with confusion.

You motion to the side of the house and move away from your first window, hoping he’s following. You open the second window, on a different wall, and see Steve below. You point to the tree whose branches extend over the house, one of which comes pretty close to your window. He nods and starts climbing, and you try not to stare at his ass. It takes him almost no time at all to get to the branch and inch down it. When he makes it to the ledge, you hold out a hand haul him inside. It’s not very graceful—he ends up on the floor, but pops up seemingly unharmed.

“Hi,” he says, breathless.

Realizing Steve Harrington is in your room after you’d accidentally confessed your love for him, you can’t move or speak. You just look at him, heart pounding, palms sweaty, eyes wide.

“Peach, about what you said on the phone—“

You interrupt. “Wait.” He dutifully stops talking and looks at you expectantly. Unfortunately, you didn’t have the rest of the plan thought out, so you’re speechless. You’d just wanted to put off the inevitable rejection for just a little longer. “I, um, I’m really sorry. For that. Like…obviously it wasn’t meant for you to hear.” You laugh awkwardly. “Well, it was but not then. But it also wasn’t because I chickened out. And that was meant for Beth. Who I meant to call. And obviously…didn’t.”

There’s silence until Steve asks, “Did you mean it?”

There it is: a way out. An exit ramp, where you laugh and say you didn’t mean it, where you play it off as a joke and go back to being friends. But you can’t make yourself take it. You’ve never lied to Steve, and you don’t want to start now. Not with this.

So you nod and answer, in a small voice, “Yes.”

You close your eyes so you won’t see the look of pity on his face, will only have to listen as he lets you down gently. But then there are hands cupping your cheeks and breaths brushing across your skin and lips pressing against yours. You open your eyes again with a start to find Steve’s in front of you, closed. His hands are on your face. His mouth is on yours.

Steve is kissing you.

You don’t know what to do, how to react, and Steve pulls back. His expression is apologetic and ashamed. “I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I should’ve asked—“

You cut him off by surging forward and kissing him. He’s surprised but regains his presence of mind faster than you had, and his hands go to grab your waist tightly. Yours tangle in his hair, the beautiful hair that you’ve always wanted to run your fingers through, and you marvel at the way Steve’s lips fit against yours, like they were made to. You two kiss until you can’t anymore, both pulling back to breathe in deeply.

Steve is smiling. You know your mouth is hanging open in shock. Thank god it’s already there, because what Steve says next would’ve made it drop.

He says, “I love you too.”

You make a weird sort of noise in your throat and Steve laughs a little. You flush bright red and make your jaw close. “That’s not exactly how I wanted to respond,” you say in embarrassment.

“What did you want to say?”

“Um.” Steve’s eyes are sparkling. It’s distracting. “Uh…why?”

“Because you’re my favorite person in the whole world, Peach.” He says it like it’s obvious. “Because you’re the first person I wanna talk to when I wake up and the last person I think of when I go to sleep. Because you teach me so many things and make sure I know I have things to teach you too. Because you’ve always been there for me. Because you’re my dream girl.” He’s looking at you with so much adoration it’s hard not to combust right then and there. “Why do you love me?”

“I’ve loved you since the third grade,” you blurt out. “When you stood up for me. When you first started calling me Peach.”

“Even during King Steve?” He asks tentatively. He doesn’t look away but you can tell he wants to. He doesn’t like to relive it.

You take his hand. “Yes, even then. I knew who you were underneath it all. I knew you would come back. And I was right.”

He chuckles. “You always are,” he murmurs, as if in awe.

“I wasn’t right about this,” you sigh, looking down at your intertwined fingers. “I never in a million years imagined you would love me too.”

Steve makes a soft sound. “I feel like I was so obvious about it. I felt like a lovesick fool who couldn’t stop following you around.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“I never wanted to scare you away. You’re too important to me. I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t in my life, Peach. I couldn’t take that chance. I would take you in whatever way you would give me, happily.”

You look back up at him. His face is intense, serious. You kiss him so his expression will clear. “Well,” you say lightly, “now you’ve got me like this forever.”

“Good,” he replies firmly, and tugs you forward into a hug. You wrap your arms around his back and clutch at his shirt. He rests his chin on your head and sighs happily. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

When you whisper back “Me too,” he holds you closer.

;

"Okay, baby. R means reverse, N is neutral, and D is obviously drive. You have to pull the gearshift to the right letter to do what you want. So let's try going backwards, yeah?" Steve asks.

You are in the driver's seat of Steve's BMW, with him in the passenger seat. It's your first driving lesson. You're sitting in the parking lot of the high school, after school so it's devoid of cars and you can't hit any of them. Steve had said that he didn't think you would, but better to be safe than sorry. You agree—you can't afford to replace this BMW if you wreck it.

You nod to Steve's question.

"Great. Foot on the brake," he reminds, and you put your foot on the brake. "Has to be there for the gearshift to work. Okay, pull it to R, angel." You slowly put the car into reverse. "Now, ease up on the brake. Just a little." You do so, and the car starts rolling backwards. Your eyes widen and Steve places his hand on top of yours. "It's okay. Just keep looking in your mirrors. You've got it." You look into the rearview mirror and watch as what's behind you slowly comes closer.

"Good!" Steve encourages. "Let's brake again." You press too hard and you're both jolted forward as the car comes to a screeching halt.

"Sorry," you say quickly, wincing.

But Steve is laughing. "No harm done, sugar. Just maybe brake a little gentler next time."

You nod sheepishly.

"Now, you're not gonna need N like, ever. I'm not even sure what use it has. So let's move on to D."

"That's what she said," you automatically retort, and Steve snorts. You're scared, but not too scared to pass up a chance for a euphemism.

"I walked into that one," he replies, shaking his head fondly. "But, let's drive, shall we, sweetheart?"

"Okay," you say, trying not to let the pet name distract you. He's been expanding his repertoire of them, trying to see which ones fit best. But you like all of them—like whatever he calls you as long as he still says it in that loving tone and kisses you after occasionally—so he's just been adding more and more without taking any away. It annoys Beth a little bit—she's glad you both finally got your heads out of your asses and got together, literally jumping for joy when you'd told her about Steve confessing his love for you too, but she regularly complains about being the third wheel and says Steve is too mushy for his own good—but you love it.

You pull the gearshift to D and ease off the brake like Steve had told you. The car rolls forward slowly.

"Okay, foot off the brake completely. Press on the gas. Gently, honey," he emphasizes and you nod. You do as he says and press the gas pedal softly, and the car speeds up a little. You reach a stop sign and so you dutifully brake. "Nicely done, princess," he says, and leans over to kiss your cheek. Before he can lean back, you turn your head and catch his lips with yours. He presses forward into it, hand coming up to cup your jaw softly.

"Alright, beautiful, turn signals," he says when you've parted. "Lever on the left, press up for right and down for left." You experiment, smiling as the signals flash. "Where do you wanna go?"

You look at him. What you wanna say is "Anywhere with you," but you know that's a little too cheesy for the moment. “Where do you wanna go?” You ask instead.

He hums, thinking about it. “What about…Sydney? The opera house and the beaches and the beautiful sunsets on the desert.” Then he looks at you. “You interested in Australia, darling?”

You always get a thrill when you ask him that now, because he always includes you. Like he’s not going anywhere without you either.

“Sure, as long as you protect me from all those huge bugs,” you answer. “And the kangaroos. I’ve heard they’re mean.”

Steve chuckles. “Haven’t I always been your knight in shining armor, Peach? Been serving you since third grade. I can handle some bugs.”

“I don’t know. You get scared when there’s a spider in your house.”

“I don’t like them!” He protests and you laugh. He looks at you with that adoring expression. “But for you? I’ll do anything.”

You try not to show outwardly how gooey you feel inside. You just lean forward and kiss him again, turning back to the parking lot and stop sign.

You choose a direction at random. "Right," you answer and turn on the signal.

"Good, Peach. Steering wheel to the right too, ease onto the gas, and off we go," Steve directs.

You move the wheel to the right, take your foot off the brake and onto the gas, and off you go.

[fromasgardandback]

end of summer party

•

masterlist | stranger things summer

it had been days since i last spoke to Eddie. i couldn’t face him since my outburst. i know it was wrong of me to ignore him, but the pressure just kept building. i understand how much my parents love me, but they would disapprove of my decision besides college. they would not approve of anything that wasn’t what their plans were. if i choose to do what makes me happy, then i’m alone and not with their help. if Eddie doesn’t want me anymore… i guess i’ll just have to please my parents.

“Y/N, Eddie is in love with you. He sees a future with you and I know you do too. Do you think he’d be mad at your decisions? You’ll make it work however you need to.” Robin sat on my bed as i anxiously paced in front of her. 

“I know, but what if-”

“No! No what-ifs. You need to talk to him. You can’t make this decision of his feelings for him. I know it’s an easy way out, but it’s your life. Your parents can dream all they want, it’s yours to do what you please. Don’t let your fear cloud your happiness. Eddie’s gonna be at the party, if I don’t see you I’m dragging you there.” Robin smiled hugging me close. i sighed shakily hugging her back.

“When’d you get to be so wise?” i chuckled

“Grandma Steve.” she laughed

Steve threw an end-of-summer party every year since freshman year. all his friends gathered in the house to have a rager before reality hits. drinks were flowing, snacks were passed, and the occasional hookup happened upstairs. this year would be different with a more relaxed ambiance. Steve was ready to say goodbye to those wild days. plus if Mrs. Henderson found out what went on, she’d kill him. i walked in with Rob before everyone arrived to help set up. Eddie smiled handing Steve the plate of meat. the sun glowing on his skin as his half-opened Hawaiian shirt blew in the breeze. the second he saw me, it was like a breath of fresh air filled my lungs. i shyly walked over while he took nothing to run and pick me up. i hugged him back closely, not realizing the breath i was holding in. he felt like that warm feeling of being home safe and secure.

“My babygirl. Can we talk?” Eddie set me down. I nodded holding his hand and leading him to the study. “Y/N. I love you. I don’t want to lose you. I also want you to be happy. Whatever you choose I support you. I don’t want you to be struggling with this decision alone either. I want to help you choose whatever you desire.” He rambled on. i looked at him lovingly, grabbing his face and kissing him deeply. Eddie relaxed into the kiss holding me close. i wrapped my arms around his neck pulling him deeper into the kiss.

“I want you. I want to stay here with you and our friends. I don’t want college. I love you, I chose us. I want us now, next week, next month, next thousand years. I love you, Edward Munson.” i smiled wide tears falling down my cheeks.

“I love you Y/N Y/L/N. I want you and chose you. I don’t care if you get sick of me, too damn bad.” we laughed. Eddie picked me up excitedly and twirling me around. Steve and Robin lurked by the door quietly whispering to each other.

“I did that.” they said at the same time, sharing a disapproving look.

[tainted-liquor]

'Kick The Radio!

Hobie Brown x BlackFem!Reader Ingredients: Sugar, kisses, and a lil bit of smiles! TWs: Chaotic Hobie, Cockney slang LMFAOO, cussin' W/C: 1.3k A/N: British ppl please correct the slang tyvm

"For the last time, I'm a good driver! Swear it!" Hobie reassured as he threw a smaller size suitcase in the backseat of his van. You had reluctantly agreed to go on a road trip with him across the country just a few days prior, but you weren't sure if you wanted Hobie to drive on account of him not having an actual license. "Babes, I can drive. I jus' don't 'ave an official card that says so!" he giggled, grinning ear to ear as if he wasn't just confessing to putting both your lives at risk. "'M not so sure I want you driving, Hobie..." You muttered, throwing your small suitcase in the back alongside his as you climbed into the passenger seat. "Relax, dollface! We'll be alright, jus' need'ta find my daisy roots..." he said, diving in the back seat for his extra pair of chunky black boots and blue laces.

He emerged a couple seconds later, a small grin on his face as he showed you his 'nature boots', the ones he only used for trails or hiking. "Baby, why are all your laces blue?" You asked, tilting your head to the side as Hobie started up the car. "Why do you think I don't have a license?" he 'answered', patting the side of your face gently as he backed out of his parking spot just a few feet away from the dock. You hummed to yourself as you got out on the road, mumbling song lyrics occasionally as you tapped away on your phone. "...I get my kicks on and I wanna start a rager..." you murmured, quickly shutting up when you heard an "Oi! No green day nonsense in my jam jar!" from Hobie.

"Damn nigga, well then turn on the radio!" You giggled, attempting to change the station and turn up the volume. "Y'gotta kick it" Hobie stated as normally as ever. "Huh?" you asked, eyes widening as a confused smile grew on your face. Hobie laughed, shaking his head as he gave the firmest kick to the car radio you'd ever seen him give. The car shook with the force of his boot, eyes widening as music suddenly began to play out of the speakers.

You both erupted in giggles, fighting for your life as you both realized just how bad Hobie's car was. He could always fix it anytime he wanted, he just chose not to. Spewing something along the lines of how it 'gives the car personality' and he doesn't feel like spending time on fixing something when it still...'works'. You let the music invade your ears, feeling your body vibrate slightly with each bass thump. Hobie used one hand to guide himself through the road, and another to drum his finger against your thigh as he found his natural comfort with the music.

"Chain-gang chainmail, I DON'T THINK AT ALL!" he sang, clearly in his own little world as you giggled at his cute self. You nodded your head to the music, staring at the cars and trees passing by through the window. "Hey, Hobie?" You began, slowly facing him as you realized you had no idea where he was going. "Yea, luv?" He answered, keeping his eyes on the road ahead of him as he turned down the radio to hear you better. "Where we goin'?" You asked as you reached back awkwardly into the backseat, snatching the fuzzy blanket Hobie purposefully kept back there for you and throwing it across your body.'

"No idea." He laughed, clearly driving around with no real goal. "We'll find out when we get there!" He smiled, turning up the heat in the car slightly as you nodded in disbelief. You both vibed to the music flowing from the radio, talking about various topics that appeared in your head. "Think 'm just a cat person, luvvie. Dogs get acclimated to a schedule, cats do whatever they fuckin' want, yea?" he explained while he made a sharp right, finding himself parking next to a random city you'd never even seen in your life. "Hobie...how the fuck did you know this was here" you gawked, becoming utterly confused as you cautiously climbed out of the car. "Didn't!" he shrugged, gently grabbing your hand and pretending to help you out of a carriage.

You set off down the unfamiliar city, purchasing various sweets and snacks from small businesses and thrift stores. "Hobie, look!" You squealed as you held up the rabbit plushie, a massive grin on your face as you displayed one of its floppy ears. "Look at tha'! Put it in the trolley n we'll get it, right?" he said as you handed him the small bunny, skipping off to hopefully find more of its variants in a further section. Unfortunately, you didn't find another version. So you made your way over to the counter, paid for your items, and left the store clutching a stitched and stuffed bunny. "Y'gonna name him?" Hobie asked, raising his shoulder as a form of pointing to the stuffed animal.

"Like a baby?" you giggled, rolling your eyes jokingly. "Yeah sure, I'll name our son. Hoppart Jr." You laughed, in danger of losing your footing as you stumbled due to your violent giggles. Hobie gave you a small look of disapproval before bursting out into laughter beside you. "Alright, alright. Your son, you can name him whatever" he shrugged with a toothy grin. "OUR son" you corrected as Hobie opened your car door, chuckling and snorting as he shook his head. "OUR son" he echoed as he dove into the driver seat.

You set off on the road again, conversing and joking about everything under the sun while holding your 'son' on your lap, examining the new plush you'd add to your collection. "I think we should give him piercings" Hobie commented as he drove with...one hand yet again. "WHAAAT!? You wanna give your baby piercings!" You joked, pretending to gasp and cover Hoppart Jr's ears. "People do it all the time! Plus, you can't tell me it wouldn't look cool on that plush" he explained as a smile crept up onto his features. "Yeah, you're right I think I'll put some on him when we get home" You nodded, turning the plush to face you as you mapped out what areas you'd pierce. You rested the plush back on your lap, covering the both of you with the fluffy blanket as you stared out the window.

The sky was turning a sugary shade of pink, the sun hanging low to your left, tucked in between fluffy clouds as you felt yourself mellow out. "Y'alright, luvvie?' Hobie asked, glancing over to see you leaning on the car window, staring at seemingly nothing as you got quiet. "Hmm? Oh, yeah, babe. Just a lil tired..." you answered, voice sounding softer and lower than usual. "Ah, Okay. Can you stay up for me a lil longer? Wanna show you something later" He cooed, gently rubbing your shoulder as you nodded. "Y'can sleep all you want after, dove I swear" he added as he sped up slightly.

You battled sleep for roughly 30 minutes, watching as the sky transformed from pink and orange to dark and blue. "C'mon, luv let's go" Hobie whispered as he scooped you up from the passenger side, parking the car in a random field. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning your head against his shoulder as he raised himself out of the van's sunroof. He found purchase on the roof of his car, turning you around on his lap so you could see the breathtaking view of the night sky with little to no light pollution. You watched in awe as the stars illuminated the night sky, finding refuge perfectly in every speck of empty space around the moon.

"Damn...'s fuckin' amazing, Bee. Can't tell me this wasn't planned" You smiled, staring up at the speckled inky black sky, grinning tiredly as Hobie wrapped both arms around your waist and rested his chin on your head. "This bit was, yeah. I wanted to show you since I know you love staring at the moon...for whatever reason" he sniggered. "Wow! Such a gentleman" you joked, pushing back on his chest to shove him without moving your arms.

"Thank you, my love."

"Ya welcome, lil Dove"

TAGLIST FORM HERE!! NEEDED TO ORGANIZE SOME SHIT MY BADDD

©Talia's Ish! Pls don't be a trifling thief !

[that-girl-cupid]

More lore bc it was requested

Start recording

its Rosie-

And James! Don't forget me

She laughs of course not jay, well today we-

End recording

Start recording

Oh my gods, today was insane, we threw a rager tod-

Rose where are you the voice sounded far away and like her dad

No, no no no I gotta g-

End recording

Start recording

Oh my gods, cal is just, he's just so- gods

Rose are you in there? It was Jack's voice

End recording

Start recording

Rosalie you need to stay here with me

No, no, no I wont

Yes you will or you will face the consequences

No- she screams, it cuts off mid scream

End recording

Start recording

It's my birthday, my friends are all doing things for me, their, their so amazing, I think I can finally be happy he-

End recording

(not long but)

@demigod-jack-hearth

@daonedaonlyskh

@if-chaos-was-a-boy

@this-is-homophobic

@chaos-pers0nified

@ariathemortal

@cass-daughter-o-ari

@love-lightning-forethought

[x0x0josephinex0x0]

take me to church | choi san

We’re back with another San work bc he’s hot and I love him. Genres: fluff, religious differences (but not like in an angst way, it’s really all fluff) Warnings: reader jokes about dying. Heavy discussion of religion, specifically Catholicism. Characters attend mass and confession. Brief sacrilege? Idk they kiss in a cathedral, so if you are Catholic and that’s offensive to you, probably don’t read this. San has unbelievable rizz (needs a warning) and is sometimes a bit suggestive.

“It took you long enough,” you tease, looking up from your book at the handsome young man holding two coffee cups and waiting for you to notice him. “You’ve been staring at me for a good long time.”

He grins at this. “Can I sit down?” he asks you, offering you one of the cups.

You take it and sip gingerly. “How did you know?” you ask him suspiciously.

“‘Apple cider with a shot of cinnamon and caramel syrup, warmed for one and a half minutes instead of two’,” he recites. “How long have we both been coming here?”

“Well, I’ve been coming here a month,” you tell him. “I don’t know how long it’s been for you.”

“It’s been a month for me as well,” he says. “The first time I saw you was my first time here.”

“Really?” you ask with an eyebrow raised. 

“Yeah, after that I just kind of decided it was my favorite,” he says, something wicked dancing in his eyes as he smiles at you. 

You shake your head with a scoff at the audacity of this man. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says. “They have good coffee too.” He leans back in his seat and takes a sip.

You size him up -- broad shoulders and a well-muscled chest under a white henley shirt and puffy jacket to protect against the wintery cold, square jaw, high cheekbones, those dangerous brown eyes, and black hair styled up and off his forehead in a swooping Clark Kent-esque style -- and the verdict is easy. Gorgeous. But for one thing, you’d never give him the satisfaction of knowing you feel that way. For another, you know his type. He has the air of the frat boys from college who threw ragers and took bets to see if they could get in your pants.

So you sip your drink again. “So, what’s your schtick? Tell me so we can stop wasting each other’s time.”

“Time spent enjoying yourself is never wasted,” he shoots back. “And I don’t have a schtick. I just want to get to know you better.” He seems unruffled by your aloofness, the hint of a smile still playing about his lips.

“There isn’t a lot to know,” you counter. 

“Everyone says that, but it’s never true,” he says. 

“How many other girls have you tried this approach on?” you ask him with narrowed eyes.

“Enough,” he allows with another smile. “Although this is the first time I’ve waited so long to make a move.”

“I’m flattered,” you deadpan. “Lost your nerve in your old age?”

“Maybe I learned the value of patience,” he says, undeterred. 

You weren’t expecting him to keep up with you for this long, so you simply look at him for a moment. “You got a name?” you finally ask, and his smile grows wider.

“Choi San,” he says. “You?”

“No,” you reply lightly.

For the first time, he looks taken aback. “No, like, you don’t have a name?”

“No like I’m not going to give it to you. Yet.” 

“Yet?” he complains. “Damn, you’re one tough cookie.”

“You have no idea,” you say. “Speaking of which, I have somewhere to be.”

“Let me join you,” he says immediately, standing as well. 

“Oh, as much fun as that would be, I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” you tell him with a laugh, putting on your hat and coat and making for the exit of the coffee shop.

“Why not? Are you going to a doctor’s appointment or something?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you reply as you push open the door, shuddering against the cold air. “I have six months left to live.”

San’s eyes go wide before he realizes you’re messing with him. “You’re awful,” he chides, nearly running to keep up with your quick stride. 

“And you’re persistent,” you say over your shoulder. “Seriously, I’m not going anywhere fun. You should go back inside where it’s warm. You’ll catch a cold.”

“Are you worried about me?” he asks with a teasing smile.

“Extremely. You seem very unhinged.” But you’re laughing at the way he’s dodging the crowd of people on the sidewalk walking the opposite direction so that he can keep sight of you, and this seems to spur him on. Even as San apologizes to an elderly group of women for colliding with them, there’s a determination in his eyes that makes your heart beat quicker than is strictly necessary.

“Oh, I am,” San retorts. “I need someone to take care of me.”

“Call your mother.”

“I would, but she lives in Korea.”

“Call a friend. Do you have any of those?”

“I have plenty, but there’s a very specific cure for my ailment that none of them can provide.”

You stop in your tracks and he nearly runs into you. “What do you want from me?” you ask, half annoyed, half impressed at all the smooth-talking.

“Your name, first,” he says. “And then maybe a phone number. That’s all. I swear.”

You consider him, biting back the thought that he looks even handsomer than normal because of the cool air tinging his cheeks pink and the sunlight in his eyes. “Tell you what,” you say. “You make it through this, and we can talk.”

San’s eyes follow your finger to where you’re pointing -- at a towering cathedral ornately decorated with statues of staring saints. He looks at you with wide eyes. “You’re a church girl?”

“Decidedly so, yes,” you say. “You sit through one mass and I’ll give you my phone number.”

He still doesn’t seem to be worried about any of this. “If I do confession, can I have a date?” he asks hopefully.

“I think if you do make confession, we’ll be in there so long we won’t have time for a date,” you tell him with a roll of your eyes. “Now come on.”

He grins. “You already know me so well. Take me to church,” he says.

The other regulars in the congregation eye you and San with interest as San follows your lead, watching how you dip your fingers into the water at the entrance and then cross yourself. He tries, but ends up crossing himself the wrong way, and you have to stifle a giggle as the little old lady who sits up front gasps loudly. 

San looks at you in alarm. “What did I do wrong?” he asks.

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassure him. “She just has a spiritual gift for seeing when someone is trying way too hard to get someone’s number.”

He shakes his head and follows you into a pew. “How long have you been Catholic?” he asks in a whisper.

“Officially, I’m not,” you say. “But I’ve been coming to mass for about a year, ever since my grandmother died. She used to come twice every week. It’s been…comforting. I feel closer to her this way.”

A light of understanding moves across his features. “I see,” he says. “That’s a good way to honor her.”

You are amazed at the sudden tears that threaten to spill over in your eyes. “And you? Are you religious at all?” you ask as a distraction.

“Not really,” he whispers. “I sang in a church choir once, but that’s about it.”

He notices how your eyes light up. “Do you sing, then?” you ask with interest.

“Yeah, a bit,” he admits. “Why? Is that a dealbreaker?”

You laugh quietly. “No, not at all. I just didn’t expect it.”

He shrugs. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

You roll your eyes again. “So do you believe in God?” you ask.

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly.

“Do you believe in anything?”

“I believe in plenty,” he replies. “Fate…love at first sight…”

“I’m being serious,” you insist. “I don’t know if I can see myself with someone who doesn’t have some kind of guiding principle that gives them integrity. It doesn’t have to be religion, but you have to have some kind of moral compass.” 

He thinks for a moment. “Well, I guess I believe that we should treat others well,” he starts.

“Why?” you ask.

He doesn’t answer right away — and you appreciate that he actually does seem to take the genuine questions you’re asking seriously. After a minute he replies, “I guess because I’ve personally found the highest level of satisfaction in my life when I’m in harmony with those around me. And that’s something I can control. I can’t stop others from disliking me or not sharing my opinions, but I can always treat them well regardless of those things, and we can coexist.”

The priest begins the processional just after San finishes talking, and so you don’t get to tell him how impressed you are with that answer. But you find yourself glancing over at him during the service, giggling softly when he repeats back to the priest later than everyone else, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks when he catches you staring and shoots back a subtle wink. 

And then when mass is over, and he leans over to you and you can smell the spicy-sweet scent of his shampoo, you have to catch your breath. “So, what now?” he asks with that same suggestive glint in his eyes.

“Now I need to go to confession,” you say firmly, although you can’t help a grin.

“I’ll come too,” he says, but you tug him down before he can fully stand up. 

“Hold your horses,” you say, and although you’re nervous in a way that makes you feel like your skin is on fire, you fix him with a stare, your expression serious. 

You take a breath. “Seriously, why me? I’m sure there are other pretty girls you’ve seen before, but it’s a little extreme to go to all this trouble.”

His smile softens. “You’re worried about my intentions?” he asks lightly, sliding across the bench to sit as close to you as he can.

“Shouldn’t I be? I mean, you’re a stranger who followed me into church,” you joke quietly. And you’re surprised to realize as you say it that even though he’s been persistent, you never felt unsafe. Indeed, you have the feeling that if you had ever seriously told him to get lost, he probably would’ve listened to you.

San seems to watch all these thoughts passing through your head, and he pulls one of your hands into both of his own. “Give me a shot,” he says softly. “If we’re talking about belief, let me tell you something else I believe in. I believe that sometimes you can get a sense about someone before you really talk to them. And this is going to sound crazy, but if there was such a thing as past lives, I’d be certain I knew you long before I saw you in that coffee shop.”

You draw in a shaky breath, your heart soaring in elation at this confession in spite of yourself. He’s playing with your fingers, his eyes flickering in the dim light of the church. And he looks so adorably nervous at the admission he’s just made that you can’t help but nod after only a second’s consideration. “Okay, Choi San. I’ll give you my phone number. A deal is a deal, after all.”

He hands you his phone. “For the record, mass was pretty interesting too,” he tells you.

You scoff. “Like you were paying attention at all,” you say as you type in your number, which you’ve saved under the name “church girl” with a black heart emoji.

“I might have been a bit distracted,” he allows, “but I do also like learning about things like this.” He takes his phone back from you and laughs at the contact name. “Wow, when do I get to know your name? At our wedding?”

“Maybe after our third kid, I’ll consider it,” you say dryly, standing up and tucking your jacket over one arm. “Now, I have some sins to confess.”

He stands up with you. “I’m coming too,” he says.

“Don’t you have everything you need?” you ask him with a grin, gesturing at the phone still in his hand. 

“Almost,” he says. “But I’ve done a lot of sinning in my life. Maybe I’ll have a religious epiphany if I talk to someone about it.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Are you in an anthropology class right now? Like, this has gotta be homework or something at this point.”

He laughs. “No, I am genuinely interested to know what confession is like,” he assures you. The both of you make your way to the confessional. “What do I say?” he whispers as you get close. 

“You start with crossing yourself,” you say, and you guide his hand in the correct motions. “Then you say ‘Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.’”

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” he repeats. “Then what?”

“List your sins,” you say. “But don’t say all of them. He doesn’t have all night.”

“Okay,” he says in amusement. “Anything else?”

“At the end say ‘I’m sorry for this and all my sins’.”

“What if I’m not sorry?” he asks.

“Then say it anyway,” you say with a shrug.

“Isn’t that lying, though? Which is also a sin?” 

You have to bite back another laugh at his question. “I think you’re taking this a bit too seriously,” you say. “Maybe only confess the sins you feel sorry for if it offends you to lie to a priest.”

He nods. “Fair enough. Can you confess sins you haven’t done yet?” he asks, feigning innocence, but you know exactly what he means.

You snort, swatting his arm. “Um, that’s called the sale of indulgences, and the church stopped doing that in the 1500s I’m pretty sure.”

He tsks in disappointment. “Oh, well. I guess it was worth a shot. Do you want to go first? I’m sure you’re going to take a lot less time.”

You raise your eyebrows at him. “I wouldn’t be so sure. There’s a lot that you don’t know about me, either.”

He shakes his head. “That was sexy,” he whispers after you as you move past him toward the confessional. 

You shush him. “Don’t say stuff like that in church. You’ll get struck by lightning.”

“That’s why I whispered it,” he says defensively.

“God can still hear you,” you say, giving him a little wave as you shut yourself in the booth.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” you say, crossing yourself. “It’s been a week since my last confession.”

“Hey,” the priest says casually behind the grille. You recognize the voice of your favorite priest, Father Paul. 

“Hi, Father Paul,” you say.

“Doing missionary work, I see,” he says. 

“Huh?” you say. 

“The young man you brought with you today,” he says, a hint of humor in his voice. 

“Oh, that. Um, I didn’t bring him, he followed me,” you say. 

“He didn’t seem to bother you,” Father Paul observes. “In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile so much in church.”

You blush. “Are you gonna let me confess my sins, or what?”

“Fine,” says Father Paul, and you can hear the eye roll in his voice. “But next week you’d better have some more interesting sins for confession.”

“Father Paul!” you exclaim. “Isn't it a sin to encourage others in sinning?”

Father Paul gives a derisive laugh. “My child, I sit here in this booth for four hours twice a week and listen to people confess their problems with a spouse or disagreements with a neighbor. And now you come in here with a man who looks like that? Is it a greater sin to give in to the natural man, or to refuse to acknowledge a blessing when it comes?”

“This is a conversation I absolutely did not expect to have...ever, in any place, but definitely not here,” you say, your whole face redder than a tomato.

“Well, let me give you some revelation from beyond, then. If I were your grandmother, God rest her soul, I would tell you that seeing you alone for so long has been difficult for people who care about you. It may be time to let someone in.” He clears his throat. “Now, you may make your confession.”

Shaken, you do this quickly. Father Paul absolves you, and you clear out the booth. 

San is waiting right outside. “So, you’re forgiven,” he says, in the tone of someone observing the weather.

“Spic-and-span,” you say. “Your turn. You remember what to do?”

“I’ll figure it out,” he says, heading into the booth.

You head from the confessional into a tiny room where votive candles and a small statue of Mary Magdalene are kept, keeping the door open so that San will be able to see you after he leaves confession. You sit at the small bench, breathing deeply, trying to calm yourself. 

You aren’t used to being affected so much, but the man making what is certainly one of Father Paul’s more interesting confessions has upended everything normal in your life. You know what your grandmother would say -- “God likes to keep us on our toes.” “Well said, Granny,” you murmur to yourself, watching one of the flames flicker mesmerizingly in the otherwise dark room.

“Hey, Church Girl,” says a voice behind you. 

You jump and turn around. It’s San, standing there in the doorway watching you carefully. You stand, suddenly flustered. “Uh, hey. You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he says, looking at you strangely. He steps into the room and shuts the door behind him. “You okay?”

“Yes,” you reply breathily. “Um, just thinking about my grandma.”

“Got it,” he says, empathy at the corners of his tone. He comes to stand beside you. “I’m sorry to have interrupted.”

You give him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, really. So, you didn’t take very long in confession.”

“Nah, I don’t regret very many of my sins,” he says easily. “Father Paul seems cool, though.”

“He introduced himself?” you ask, surprised.

“Yep,” he says. “He talked about you.”

“Oh, did he?” you ask nervously. “What did he say?”

“He told me to take care of you,” he says simply.

“And what did you tell him?” you ask suspiciously.

He hesitates. “My sins,” he says finally. “Which turn out to be my failings as a romantic partner. I just told him all the ways I was worried I’d disappoint you.” He gives a soft laugh, and you look him up and down, fixating on his hands. 

They’re shaking.

Before you can think, before you can talk yourself out of it, you grab him by the front of his coat and pin him against the wall closest to the door. And then you tell him your name before pressing your lips to his.

He catches your face in his hands as you do, the pads of his fingers slightly rough but warm against your cheek and jaw and the back of your neck. His lips on yours are hungry but gentle, and his hands pull you back whenever you try to come up for air. You have to clutch at him to stay upright as the room starts spinning, and he moves his arms to your waist to support you as he kisses you again and again and again, until your lips feel bruised and you can hardly remember anything but the feel of his skin under your fingertips.

Finally, you break apart, gasping for breath. San’s chest heaves against your own, and he leans his forehead to yours. “What was that for?” he asks breathlessly.

“That was the trade-off,” you say with a laugh. “Phone number for mass, kiss for confession.”

“For real? What do I get if I go every week?” he asks eagerly.

“I guess we’ll see,” you say, brushing a stray strand of hair off his forehead.

“I like the sound of that,” he says, his arms tightening around your waist.

You lean against him, letting your head rest on his chest. “Me too.”