#it was my third top song in less than 24 hours

[mrcarmenile]

this is my current spotify stats.

of all time.

this has to be mental illness at this point

[restlessmaknae]

until i found you // hyunsuk

When a cute, handsome stranger helps you out at your favourite 24-hour bookstore, you have no idea that he’s actually a rookie actor from Korea who is currently shooting a drama in Taiwan.

➳ Characters: rookie actor!Hyunsuk x last year uni student!female reader/you

➳ Genre: meet cute, fluff

➳ Words: 3k

➳ Warning: mentions of food, drinks, unhealthy sleep schedule, thesis stress

➳ A/N: This story is the third and final installment of my 'love map' multifandom series which features 3 different idols and 3 different stories that take place in 3 different countries. The stories can be read on their own though.❤️

Header taken from this cover, title is because the 'until i found you' song reminds me of this story

➳ Dedicated to: @dat-town ❤️

➳ Taglist: @s00buwu, @tsunchani, @wccycc

As a busy university student, your sleep schedule was so messed up that your favourite pastime activity was going to the 24-hour Eslite bookstore at the crack of dawn when you couldn’t fall asleep, and your first class wouldn’t be until the afternoon.

People said that you needed to have a life outside of uni classes, assignments and working on your thesis, and you did have one, but your self-care activities usually included crying to your favourite singer’s new album at 4PM, having dinner around midnight or as mentioned above, going to the 24-hour bookstore to chill and read something that wasn’t an overly referenced academic article. It was definitely not healthy and not sustainable, but you just needed to pull through the next month, and you would be done with your thesis either way.

Besides, if there was something that you liked about this nocturnal life, it was having way less people around you at this time than during the day. The convenience stores were open but way less busy, the underground might have run less frequently but it was still running, and your favourite bookstore was also not as crowded as during the day when tourists often flocked in.

That day (or well, night) was no different. You wandered down the enormous and well-structured aisles, looking for something to pick up after getting some tea from one of the three cafés of the bookstore (see, you were trying to squeeze something into your system other than coffee), but that specific book just had to be on the top shelf. Usually, there was a small ladder beside the shelves which you could use to reach the top shelves, but today, there was none in sight.

Letting out a huff, you tiptoed before the shelf and reached your arm as high as possible, but it was not enough to grab the book, only the bottom of the upper shelf. You tried to make the book fall with your piercing gaze, but to no avail… It didn’t budge at all.

You were ready to admit your defeat when a long arm reached above your head, and casually grabbed the book before reaching it out to you. You blinked up at the stranger in awe, taking in his warm, chocolate-brown eyes, the fringe that fell into his orbs, his tall built and model-like proportions. The only thing you did mind was not being able to see the rest of his face because he wore a black mask that covered most of it. You wondered if he was smiling because his eyes seemed to be.

“Oh, thank you so much,” you bobbed your head gratefully before reaching out and getting the book from him. That’s when you caught sight of the vlog camera in his other hand, and you couldn’t stop yourself from asking. “Oh, are you filming something?”

Now you were really curious how he might have looked without the mask because his eyes turned into little crescents as if he was shy, and you had a feeling that his cheeks would be turning pink, too.

“Ah yes, it’s for a vlog,” he explained in a surprisingly deep voice, and maybe it was the weariness getting to you or maybe it was just his charisma, but he appeared so dreamy, for a moment, you wondered if you made him up in your head.

“Are you a Youtuber then?”

“No, no,” the boy shook his head after letting out a little giggle. It was cute, his giggle. It sounded so joyful yet shy. “I’m actually a rookie actor, so it’s for my agency’s channel,” he explained coyly, scratching the back of his neck.

He looked so adorable, but all the social skills you had abandoned you right then and there, and you didn’t find it in you to speak up. So you just stared at him and his crazy proportions, inwardly squealing like a child because oh my gosh, you were helped by a rookie actor! Maybe one day, he would make it big, and you could say that you knew him from the start. Only if you got to know who he was, but you were too shy to ask about it, and also, you didn’t want to inconvenience him.

“Well then, I won’t bother you,” you blurted out after much thinking, and gestured for him to go freely, you wouldn’t mind. “And thanks for the book, again,” you added, your cheeks flushed when you caught sight of another eyesmile of his. Gosh, why did he have to have such beautiful eyes? Aaand he even had a mole under his left eye, how cute!

“You… didn’t bother me, but… don’t mention it,” he replied equally shy, and it was just so amusing that there you were as a 20-something, giggling and blushing as if you had never interacted with a boy before, and there he was with all his probably 180+ centimetres, his face covered with a mask, but you could also feel the same kind of awkwardness radiating off of him.

You couldn’t even keep yourself from glancing as he walked away, talking quietly to his vlog camera while picking up some books. On the other hand, you didn’t want to be a creep, so after buying a book, you headed back to the student hall instead of stalling there because you were afraid that you would keep staring at him if you didn’t leave.

Another day, another visit to the 24-hour bookstore.

This time though, you arrived closer to 8PM than the break of dawn because you had just submitted the final draft of your thesis, awaiting your thesis consultant’s feedback, so you could finish earlier that day. You didn’t necessarily look for a certain someone, but you did look around and snap your head back when you heard people walking by because you were curious if the cute boy from before came by again. Maybe he had a schedule though. Maybe he was already sleeping. Who knew? It’s not like Taipei was small enough to definitely run into him again.

However, when you were turning a corner, you stopped dead in your tracks when you caught sight of a tall figure in a beige coat, wrapped up in a big scarf. He was trying to balance his vlog camera on one of the shelves, but it kept falling down, so without thinking twice about it, you walked up to him.

“Can I help?” You inquired with a friendly smile, but the poor boy got so startled, he literally jumped a bit in his place and a sentence in a foreign language came out of his mouth. “Sorry about that. I didn’t want to scare you,” you pointed out, desperately holding onto your handbag as if it could save you from further embarrassment.

“Oh no, it’s okay. I just didn’t hear anyone coming,” the actor justified sheepishly, running his hand through his ruffable hair. He let out a little giggle, and although you heard it last time as well, it was just as adorable as before.

“So do you need help with your camera? I could hold it for you,” you suggested after pulling yourself together for a coherent sentence. You realised it was difficult to function like a normal human being beside him, but you tried to cover it up by acting confident. You could only hope it was working.

“Ah… yes, thank you. That would be great,” he gave in, and so he instructed you how to record him while he was browsing the bookshelf. You could guess that he wasn’t from around here, and not only because of that sentence that left his mouth when he got surprised, but also because he was looking for the right words to say when talking about the camera. Either way, you got what he was trying to say, and recorded him from the back and from the side.

In the meantime, you tried to focus on the smaller version of him in the frame, not his real-size version because you were already malfunctioning as it is. You didn’t even know what took a hold of you to walk up to him, you weren’t usually this proactive. However, you weren’t even looking for boys at bookstores much to Allen’s - your best friend’s - dismay who said that meeting the love of your life at a bookshop would suit you so much.

“Thanks. That will be enough, I think,” the actor walked up to you after a few minutes, bringing you back to reality, and you handed the camera back to him swiftly. Your fingers touched for a brief moment, and as short as it was, you had a feeling that your whole face lit up like a torch.

“Do you… have some time now? I would like to get you a drink in exchange for your help,” he offered gently, and you just gaped at him like a fish because what was going on? Was it real life? “If you don’t, that’s okay, too. I-”

“No, it’s fine. I’m fine. I have some time now,” you cut him off before he could overthink your silence, and so you went to one of the cafés within the bookstore. You got yourself a lemongrass tea and he got himself a decaf latte, and only when he got rid of his mask to take a sip from his drink, did you catch sight of his features.

He had those squishy cheeks that grandmothers would like to pinch, and when he smiled, his dimples popped off, something that always melted your heart. He had distinctive features, and they were both boyish and manly as he seemed to be dancing between his teenage features and his adult ones. He didn’t even wear any make-up, and even though you could see some pimples and darker circles under his eyes, no one had ever looked as ethereal yet humane to you as he did then.

You don’t remember who started asking questions, but you talked about your major, your thesis and your classes, and he told you that he was here to shoot a drama where his character was a Korean exchange student coming to Taiwan. So even though he had to learn Mandarin for his role, it wasn’t perfect, and he offered that you could correct him anytime. You both laughed when you realised that you had met last time at the crack of dawn because of similar yet different circumstances; he had just finished shooting and couldn’t go to sleep, and you had just stopped writing for your thesis and couldn’t sleep either.

He was a fun company, and somewhere along the way, you blurted out that if he needed any recommendations for places to check out here, he could let you know. You wouldn’t take advantage of it and have his fans come by, something that he mentioned was unlikely since he was just starting out in the industry.

“Oh, come on! I’m sure you’ll make it big,” you encouraged him with a thumbs-up, and there it was, that shy smile playing on his lips, something that you had only fantasised about before when he had been wearing the mask. It was even more beautiful than you would have imagined, and you couldn’t help but blush seeing his reaction.

Time flew by so fast while you finished your drinks, and you said goodbye at the metro station, but only after exchanging social media handles. Seeing him again was already like hitting the jackpot for you, but even having his contacts?

You were floored.

Hyunsuk was the loveliest guy, you swore. He held doors for you, he pulled you closer to save you from cyclists passing by, he helped you carry your bags, and of course, he continued to help you reach for books (or rather, instead of you).

Even though the 24-hour bookstore was your secret little getaway at first, after a while, you started going to other places - some more, some less popular -, and even came by the bubble tea place where Allen worked. He and his friend (plus co-worker) - Nicholas - couldn’t stop teasing you about never bringing a guy to their place before. They even said it out loud in front of Hyunsuk, the audacity!

Despite the fact that Hyunsuk wore masks sometimes in more crowded places, you didn’t mind because his company mattered more than his face. Though when you could see his adorable moles and even more adorable dimples from up-close, you melted inside. You didn’t know that you could feel this way before, but beside him, it was easy to feel so light and cared for. Before you knew it, you were falling for him, and there was no stopping it.

You didn’t want to pressure the boy into going to places with you because he was the busier one out of you two once you finished your thesis, and started looking for jobs. Yet, you couldn’t hide your excitement whenever he suggested something, let it be a stroll alongside the Tamsui River or a drink at a café. You didn’t mind where you went or when you went, you just enjoyed your time together for as long as it lasted.

Though you couldn’t deny that there was this looming uncertainty regarding his departure and where you stood, what would happen next if he left. You didn’t even want to think about it, but after Hyunsuk shared with you the date of his departure, you found yourself wondering about it more and more often. In front of him, you tried to act like your usual self, but at nights, your thoughts circulated back to your worrywart questions: what if he doesn’t want to keep in touch with you; what if this is the end for you two, and what if you just made yourself believe that you were someone special, but it was all in your head?

Hyunsuk might have taken note of the change in your behaviour the day before his departure because when you sat down at your usual bench by the riverside, he asked you if you were okay. At first, you contemplated whether you should lie to him and say that you were totally fine, but then, you decided to share with him what was on your mind.

“I’m okay, it’s just… it’s a goodbye, you know. And I’ve never been good with goodbyes,” you admitted with a feeble smile as you stared at the tranquil waves in front of you.

“I mean, it doesn’t have to be a goodbye,” Hyunsuk counterattacked, his voice gentle and soothing. You averted your eyes from the river to the boy’s face, and there was a bittersweet smile playing along his lips when your eyes met. You had a feeling that he was feeling the same way as you did, and since you didn’t protest, he continued.

“Sure, it’s a goodbye in a way because you won’t be there tomorrow to bid me farewell at the airport, but it doesn’t have to mean that we won’t see each other again,” he added before you could fall deeper into the pits of uncertainty, and for the first time in a while, your heart heaved a sigh.

“I want to see you again, and not just on the screen, watching your drama,” you told him with a lighter tone, and his lips curled upwards at the shift in the atmosphere.

“You can see me in interviews as well, and not just in the drama. Oh, and the Youtube videos, too!” He teased you with a grin, and you reached out to push his shoulder playfully. You didn’t mean it like that, but fine, you could play along with him.

“I hope you will give credit to your camerawoman.”

“Of course. I will specifically ask my agency to do so.”

“Now we’re talking!”

It was easy like this with him, before and now, and since you knew he didn’t want this to be a definite goodbye, your heart was lighter for the rest of the night. You walked alongside the river, shared some snacks and chatted about anything that came to your mind - from childhood bedtime stories to constellations. You only realised how much time passed by when you unlocked your phone to show Hyunsuk a photo from your gallery, but it’s not like you haven’t met close to midnight for the very first time.

“I think it’s time for me to go,” Hyunsuk announced when he checked his own phone, and received some messages from his manager. You purposefully didn’t want to accompany him to the airport because you didn’t want to get him into trouble if his manager didn’t know where he went when he was seeing you (though you had a feeling his manager knew). Plus, if he got famous, you wouldn’t want to give anyone a chance to use your farewell moments at the airport against him.

So you had your farewell at a metro station, heading in two different directions, and when he stepped closer to hug you, you melted into his embrace. The first teardrop rolled down your cheeks when he let go of you, and even though he teased you about being a crybaby, you could see that his eyes weren’t completely dry either.

“Take care until we meet again,” you wished with a genuine smile, your heart feeling light and heavy at the same time.

“Take care. And don’t forget to watch my content!” Hyunsuk reminded you as if you could ever forget. He kept waving with that adorable dimpled smile of his as you hopped on the metro and took a seat, feeling like you were in a movie because gosh, everything happened so fast! Both meeting him and saying goodbye to him, but you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

You needed this night, you needed him to act like his usual self to be able to let him go, carrying a piece of your heart with himself until you would meet again.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this story of mine! Let me know what you think!

Click here for my CIX masterlist

If you want to read more stories of mine, let it be for CIX or for other artists, consider signing up for my taglist here.

Hope you have a lovely day/night! Take care! ❤️

[thisselflovecamebacktome]

Hm i love you?? Cause Age of Pleasure and SOS are perfect albums but i agree, the racism is strong in the grammy (sadly). (Still cant believe After Hours was treated the way it was).

But if Taylor win is good too for me, is just not my favorite. And Guts is fine, i guess but Liv has time to win in the future with a stronger album (imo).

(In the R&B i need to Janelle or Sza to win. If Sza doesn't win big categories, she can sweep the R&B and Rap thx)

(Also, i like Anti Hero but i kid you not when i say that What Was I Made For changed my life so i'm kinda rooting for it ngl)

The way After Hours was treated genuinely shocked me ngl. Like was I expecting it to win given the industry's racism? No unfortunately. But the lack of nominations really caught me off guard at the time given how massive it was. Like there were no grounds that it shouldn't have been nominated on imho and it being snubbed was like the most noticeable snub of the grammys ever for me personally.

But yes! Age of Pleasure and SOS are arguably my top two albums of the nomination period (I have about 10 projects that all rotate in and out of that spot, but these are the only two that made the album of the year nominations lmao) so I'm really hoping for them.

Midnights is a bit of an interesting pick for me now, not because it's unexpected, but weirdly I think it has more of a chance now that I considered before given no country artists were nominated. Like do I think that Taylor is gonna win it 4 times so quickly? No. But that's a far less confident no than I had 24 hours ago. But yeah I tend to agree that while I understand why it was chosen, it's personally on the lower half of my Taylor rankings (not saying it's bad, and hell 1989 is my lowest Taylor ranking and it won so yeah) and I personally think SZA and Janelle had much stronger albums, with SZA having the commercial success to rival Midnights, so again they're my top two picks for right now.

Olivia would either be my third or fourth pick (it flips with Midnights). Like this may be a bit of a hot take, but I think Guts is underrated due to its comparison with Sour and the unnecessary hate Olivia gets in general. Like to me it is a perfect teen album. Does that make it album of the year? No, but I see the vision and I wouldn't blame anyone else for voting for it.

And just because we're here, I may as well give my quick thoughts on the others:

Miley: - I'm a little surprised she was nominated to be honest. Like I genuinely feel like Flowers and to a lesser degree Jaded hard carried here. Like I expected her to flood the song nominations which she somewhat has, but I am a little surprised at the amount of album love. Don't get me wrong, the album was decent, it just was a little forgettable to me and felt like it didn't gain much general public attraction outside of Flowers.

Everyone else: - Just isn't for me. I get why they were nominated, I'm not saying they're bad, I just haven't found the right song/project from them for me.

As a whole, I feel like it's a very mainstream album of the year category this year, and I do wonder how that's going to play out, but yeah again, ultimately while I'm not going to be upset with any of them winning, I really do hope it's SZA or Janelle because they have the best two albums on the list in my honest opinion.

As for Billie winning, yeah I'm kinda rooting for her for song of the year too (I know I know, Taylor is long overdue, and I'm still bitter that All Too Well didn't get it but Anti Hero is not a fave for me) and for Kill Bill by SZA or Vampire by Olivia to get record of the year to be honest.

[vash-the-trans-catboy]

Just One of Those Days

Summary: Virgil is having a rough day but Roman is there to comfort him

Taglist: @diamondwind99 @c1rcus-c0re @thatboiblastey @nightmare4thebroken2 @ivaryn0 (Let me know if you want to be added)

Word count: 1398

Ao3

TWs: Mental health, anxiety mentions

“Maybe he needs some space.” Patton took a sip from his decaf tea as he watched Roman frantically reach for his phone, again.

“I know Virgil pretty well. If he needed space he would have texted me, not ignored all my texts from the past 24 hours,” Roman let out a sigh of desperation, “I just need to know that he’s okay.”

‘Hey, Stormcloud’ Sent: 4:56 pm

‘How was your day?’ Sent: 7:06 pm

‘Do you wanna see the cutest kitten and puppy cuddling I found on insta?’ Sent: 9:43 pm

‘It’s getting pretty late. Have a good night my Stormy Prince. I know you’re probably already asleep, but if you see this please respond I’m worried’ Sent: 1:35 am

‘Morning Virge!’ Sent: 11:57 am

‘Are you alright? You usually answer your texts pretty quickly’ Sent: 2:39 pm

The first six texts went unread without a response but Roman was willing to attempt a 7th time.

‘It’s not like you not to answer for this long. I’m coming over to make sure you are alive. If you hear the door open in around 15 minutes that’s just me.’ Sent: 4:36 pm

Roman dashed to his bedroom and grabbed the first shoes he could find. The left one was a red sneaker with gold specks on the side and the right one was a maroon slip-on. There was no time to worry about matching shoes.

On his way to the key rack, he collided head-on with his roommate.

“Watch where you are going, kiddo!” Patton playfully rolled his eyes as Roman gathered his things. “Are you going to Virgil? I thought I told you he needs space.”

“If he needs space he can kick me out once I know that he is alive. Virgil is practically glued to his phone. There is something off about him not responding.” Roman gave Patton a quick half-side hug before rushing out the door.

Upbeat Disney songs blasted through Roman’s earbuds as he jogged to Virgil’s apartment. Normally it would take Roman 20 minutes to walk there but his adrenaline got him there in less than 10 minutes.

He glanced at the broken elevator before murmuring a curse under his breath. Seven floors straight up, this ought to be fun he thought.

By the third floor, he could feel his heart quickly beating. By the sixth, he was ready to give up. The journey up the last flight felt like it took years. He finally arrived on the dreaded top of the building, floor seven.

Roman took the spare key that Virgil gave him for emergencies and opened apartment 714.

He glanced around, “Virgil? It’s me, Roman.” Finding no one in the living, he checked Virgil’s bedroom. The door was open ajar. The tv stood frozen with a sign that read “Are you still watching?” Virgil was curled up in the middle of his queen-sized bed looking dreadfully awake.

“Oh, Virgil,” Roman’s voice had a hint of softness to it, “Are you alright?”

Virgil blankly stared at Roman, seeming completely disassociated.

“Can you hear me?” Roman moved slowly to the edge of the bed and sat on the corner, giving Virgil a lot of space.

Virgil’s eyes shifted slightly upwards towards Roman, a sign Virgil could hear him.

“Blink once if you can talk, twice for signing, or three times if you rather not do either.”

Virgil blinked twice. He shifted to free his hands from underneath him.

“Would you rather us both sign, or you’ll sign and I’ll talk?” Roman asked Virgil.

‘You speak. I sign’ Virgil signed back to Roman.

“Ok, that works.” Roman pointed to the bed, “Can I join you?”

A flash of desperation spread across his face as he signed ‘Please.’ ‘Don’t leave me alone right now.’

Roman climbed into the bed. He shifted Virgil to lie down with his head in his lap. “This alright?”

Virgil nodded yes.

He wrapped his arms gently around Virgil. Virgil nuzzled into his chest. For a second, a sense of calmness brushed over Virgil. He looked up at Roman, ‘You smell nice.’

Roman leaned down to kiss his boyfriend’s temple, “I’m glad you find it comforting.”

……….

Buzz buzz buzz.

Roman’s phoned vibrated on the coffee table. His screen lit up with a picture of him and Virgil on a date.

“Hi, Dark and Stormy.” Sounding as cheerful as ever Roman answered the phone.

Virgil’s tone was very somber, “We need to talk…”

Roman paused then stuttered into the phone, “A-are you br-breaking up with me?”

“No, but I need to tell you something.” Roman sighed in relief, “Can you come over as soon as possible.”

Roman hung up the phone and then ran to Virgil’s apartment. The working elevator dinged open as soon as he reached to lobby. After two minutes of uncomfortable small talk with strangers in the elevator, he knocked on the door.

Virgil peeped through the small opening on the door. Once he saw his boyfriend on the other side, Virgil opened the door and led Roman to the couch.

“Is everything alright?!?!?” Roman said in one gasp. He quickly checked over Virgil to make sure he wasn’t injured.

Virgil patted Roman’s arm, “Don’t worry I am fine.”

“Why did you call me here? Not that I’m not happy to see you, it just sounded very urgent.”

Virgil took a deep breath before taking Roman’s hands in his own. “You know how sometimes I’m unable to talk for periods at a time.”

Roman nodded his head yes, not sure where Virgil was going with this.

“I have selective mutism. I started when I was adopted by my parents at around 5 years old. They took me to a psychologist and they were told I have a pretty bad anxiety disorder, general and social. After a few years of speech therapy, I started to talk a few words at a time.” Roman could sense this was hard for Virgil to tell him so he gave Virgil’s hands a light squeeze. “My anxiety disorders are much more under control than when I was a kid but sometimes I still find it too difficult to talk. Luckily my adoptive parents were the best. They never pushed me to talk when I wasn’t ready. All three of us started to take sign language lessons. My parents figured this would be the best solution for when I am unable to talk.”

Roman pulled Virgil into a hug, “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me this.”

“After talking to my therapist for a few years, I was finally ready to tell you. That’s why I urgently called you over here. I wanted to tell you before I chickened ou-"

Before Virgil could finish his sentence, Roman blurted out “Could you teach me sign language?”

Tears welled up in Virgil’s eyes.

“I’m sorry. Was that offensive?”

Virgil pulled Roman closer and sobbed on his shoulder, “No it’s just that except for my parents no one has ever been nice enough to learn an entirely new language for me.”

“I’d do anything for you.” Roman’s eyes sparkled with love.

“You’re the best,” Virgil whispered under his breath before leaning in to give Roman a soft but sweet kiss on the lips.

……..

“Would you like to tell me what’s wrong?” Roman asked Virgil.

Virgil shook his head no.

“I understand. It’s just one of those days. I promise you, it will get better.” After years of dating Virgil, Roman learned his favorite form of affection was butterfly kisses. Roman leaned down and brushed his nose against Virgil’s.

The despair in Virgil’s eyes went down a level.

“Is there anything else I could do to comfort you?”

‘Cuddles. A lot of cuddles, please.’ ‘You’re so warm’ Virgil signed to Roman.

“That I can do!” Roman adjusted both of them so he would be spooning Virgil, “Now get some rest. If you need anything and I mean absolutely anything, remember I’ll be right here.” He pulled the comforter over Virgil and himself.

Virgil hummed in contentment.

Roman brushed his fingers through Virgil’s hair in a soothing motion. After a few minutes, Virgil’s body relaxed and he fell deeply into well-needed sleep.

Not sure if Virgil could still hear him, he whispered in his sleeping boyfriend’s ear, “I love you.” Not very long after, Roman drifted off into a deep sleep.

[pascalpanic]

Caffeine Rush: Chapter Three / Cappucino

Summary: Javier shows up to your coffee shop again, at an ungodly hour.

W/C: 3K

Warnings: food/eating, coffee, implied age gap (reader is about 25)

A/N: I don’t have anything to say I just hope you guys enjoy :)) OH JK YES I DO: I’ve decided that Caffeine Rush will come out on mondays or tuesdays, alternating every week!

previous chapter || next chapter || masterlist

Cappuccino: two-thirds frothed milk, one-third espresso. Light and airy, full of fluff. Has a stronger coffee flavor than a latte.

As you drive him back to the hotel, you smile over at him. He looks so gorgeous, his dark hair dampened from the snow, his lips soft and extra pink from being pressed to yours. “How long did you say you’re in town for?” You ask him.

“A month,” the man tells you with a nod. “There’s a whole policy with vacation time. Use it or lose it, basically. They told me I had to use it now, so I told them to give me a month. I really have about… three months saved up now,” he chuckles.

The thought makes you grin. Javier will be here for Christmas. He’ll be here for New Year’s- that is, if he’s staying.  “And what are your plans for it?” You ask softly. You hope whatever they are, they won’t take him away from you.

Javier is eating the second red velvet cake in the passenger’s seat, and you giggle at the sight before turning back to the road. Crumbs gather on the top of his shirt and in his mustache, flecks of red in the warm brown.

He smiles at your laughter. “I have none. I have no work to do. I can’t go back to Colombia early- well, I could, but I won’t be working so it wouldn’t be worth much,” he sighs, thinking aloud. “I could go home and visit my father, but I couldn’t stay there for very long. My hometown is a place you only want to stay for two or three days, at most.”

Your eyes watch his face, that surprisingly soft skin and how it moves with his expressions. Your eyes are holding a question, even if you don’t ask it aloud. Javier can read it without your words as he turns to look at you. “I’ve heard D.C. is nice over the holidays,” you offer softly. It’s less of an offer and more of a silent question: please stay. I want you to stay.

Turning back to you, there’s cream cheese frosting in his mustache and an adorable smirk on his face. Just when you thought it was impossible for this man to be any more beautiful. “I think that sounds like a wonderful idea. Then, like I said earlier, I have time to properly romance you.”

You grin and stare at the road. “I don’t normally kiss on the first date. I don’t think it’ll be hard for you to romance me,” you tease. “I can be your personal tour guide to the city. I only work mornings, so we can do whatever we want all day and night. Which is good, because the Smithsonians are only open during the day, and I want to take you to all of them.”

You ramble when you’re excited. Javier can already tell, can see you slowly leaving that shell you’ve hidden yourself in through all of your time in D.C. Your eyes glimmer in excitement as you consider the things you can do, the places you can take him.

Javier smiles back. “You’ll have to show me everything. I’ve never been here for anything other than work.”

“Oh, trust me,” you laugh. “I know all the best parts of the city. You’ll never be bored with me around.”

Javier’s immediately certain that’s true.

-

You told Javier last night that you work from 5:00  to 10:30, and he told you he’d swing by for a coffee. What else did he have to do without you?

What you didn’t expect was for the door chime to jingle at precisely 5:34, and for the customer that enters to be none other than the newest head of the DEA’s investigations into the Cali Cartel.

Rushing around the counter, you laugh and throw your arms around him. “Hi, Javi,” you chuckle and bury your face into his neck. He wears a warm red flannel and dark blue jeans, boots beneath them and a thick black coat over it all. He smells like soap and aftershave.

“I’m starting to like the fact that you’re a hugger,” he laughs as he hugs you back, resting his head on top of yours.

You break away and brush off your apron. “When I said you should come visit me, I meant, like, at normal human functioning hours. Like, maybe 9 or something.”

Javier frowns a little as he looks at you. “This is when I normally get up. Later than normal, actually,” he shrugs and puts his hands in his pockets. “You got a dark roast this morning?” He asks as he nods his head to the side, gesturing to the big vats of brewing coffee.

You smile at the question, chuckling a little. Of course he’s observant and remembers little details- it’s his literal job. “We do. Large redeye?” You ask, already heading behind the counter and back to the ceramic mugs.

The man tilts his head. “Actually… I think I changed my mind. Can I do another peppermint mocha?” he asks, a shy look on his face.

Looking up at him, you bite your lip at his expression. He’s so goddamn cute, really, even when he’s being ashamed for something stupid. “You don’t have to be shy about it,” you tease and nod. “There’s nothing less manly about you for ordering something sweet. In fact, most of the sweet drinks we make here are ordered by the business guys or Congressmen.”

Javier chuckles and leans forward on the counter on his elbows. “Oh, yeah?”

You nod and laugh at the memory of other customers. “Matthew, he works at the senators’ offices downtown, he’s a regular. He orders a caramel frappe with marshmallow and vanilla. Full shots of both.” As always, you happily chat as you make the recipe you know by heart.

Javier’s brow furrows. You’ve known the man maybe 24 hours, but you’re starting to get a good read on him. You can tell when he’s confused or worried or happy or stressed by the way his eyebrows position themselves. This one is a lighthearted confusion. “What’s a frappe?”

Your eyes glimmer with uncharacteristic excitement for so early in the morning. “Wait. So you’re telling me you’ve never had one?”

He shakes his head, pulling his leather jacket tighter around him. The shop is cold this early in the morning, before the body heat of customers and the steaming espresso machines warm the building. “No. What is it?” He asks again.

“It’s delicious, oh my god,” you grin. “It’s kind of like a coffee milkshake. It’s frozen and creamy, blended with ice and coffee. It’s my favorite in the summer, when hot drinks just feel too much.”

“So it’s light?” He asks, gratefully accepting his ceramic mug when you hand it over. It’s peaked with foamy white cream and pieces of candy canes. Javier thinks it reminds him of you. Soft, warm, sweet and indulgent. Energizing. Not like anything he’s ever had before, but he’s already addicted.

“Not really. Like I said, it’s really creamy. It’s like a milkshake, really. That’s the best way to describe it. Do you want me to make one and you can try some?” You offer as you stir the spare espresso shot with a little cream and sugar in a to-go cup for yourself. The warm sugary scent rises and you smile to yourself.

Javier shakes his head. “Not if it’s a cold drink. It’s too cold outside anyway. And in here. You do have heating in here, right?” He asks dryly as he sips the hot drink. You can see his broad shoulders soften, the tension rising into the air with the steam from his mocha.

You roll your eyes but shrug. “It’ll get hot in here later. I just appreciate that it’s cold now,” you chuckle and chug the espresso shot, tossing the paper cup into the garbage. “What can I get you for breakfast?” You ask as you nod to the pastry case further down the bar.

He shakes his head. “Don’t eat breakfast.”

You frown. “That’s going to have to change. You seem like the type who doesn’t take care of yourself, thinks he’s too good for it,” you tease and fold your arms on the countertop, leaning into it.

Javier scoffs. “I am not too good for breakfast,” he says, amused.

“Then eat.”

The mustached man rolls his eyes. “Fine. Maybe I don’t take very good care of myself, but I don’t need you to take care of me.”

That makes you frown. “Well, that’s too bad, because if you want to kiss me like we did last night, you’re going to have to let me take care of you, Javi.”

Javi. No one ever calls him that. He’s always Agent or Agente Peña, usually just Peña for the sake of convenience. Those who know him better call him Javier, people like Steve or Trujillo. True, he asked you to call him Javi, but the name is like a song from your lips, as soft as calling him baby. He absolutely fucking loves it. Can’t get enough of it.

You begin to babble on about the baker here and his skills, talking about the various treats beneath the glass case. There are muffins and scones, donuts and sweet breads, croissants and various puff-pastry delicacies. Javier is overwhelmed. He normally doesn’t eat many sweets, even though he loves them.

A cinnamon-sugar sprinkled pastry twist calls to him. He asks for one of those and insists that he pay for it, even as you wander away from the cash register to prove he can���t pay.

Javier stands at the bar as you make yourself your own hot drink, chatting as you stir the syrup with the espresso. God, you love that mustache, you think as you smile to yourself and look down. “So. How did the mustache come to be?” You ask him, smiling and tilting your head to the side in question.

Javier raises an eyebrow. “This?” He laughs, smoothing it down with his forefinger and thumb. It brushes out some sprinkles of cinnamon and sugar from his pastry and you bite your lip to hold back a laugh.

You both have to talk a bit louder as you begin steaming the milk for your cappuccino, but it hides your giggle as you say your next words: “Yes, the porn stache.”

“Hey,” he frowns and sips his drink, setting it back down and smiling again. “It was a thing with my father. When I turned 30, he told me I was a real man now, and real men wear mustaches. He always had one, so I said okay. He shaved it for me and taught me the right way to do it and everything. I liked the way it looked, and it stuck, I guess,” he shrugs and chuckles.

“Really? Because that thing looks straight out of 1975, but I don’t think you’re old enough for it to be that old.” You giggle. The mustache is very retro, certainly behind the times and the fashion of ‘93. “You can’t possibly be… what would that make you from ‘75… 45?”

Javier shrugs. “Well, you’re not far off. I’m 40.”

Your brow furrows. You certainly hadn’t expected that. He looks so young, really. 40 wasn’t even a thought in your mind- maybe a stressed-out 30. “Really?” You ask, though you doubt he’d lie and make himself seem older. He should probably know that you’re around the proper age you are, seeing as you’ve told him about just finishing grad school.

He frowns too. “Is that a problem?” He asks hurriedly, standing up straight from his hunched position, where he leaned over the counter to be closer to you.

“No, no,” you shake your head, and his body relaxes. “Of course not,” you smile and put your hand over his. “You just look really young for 40.”

Javier shakes his head, smiling a little at the compliment. He doesn’t get many of those, the ones where people tell him he looks young or he’s cute or any non-sexual compliments in general. “No I don’t. You’re just being cute.”

“No!” You laugh happily. “You saw my face. You’re a special agent of the D-E-A,” you say, drawing out the letters. “Head of the Calí Cartel investigations. You can read me like a damn book, Javi,” you smile at him. “Tell me, do I look like I’m lying?”

Javier shakes his head, the smile growing wider and his cheeks turning a slightly warmer shade. These kind of honest, pure and uncomplicated compliments make him almost embarrassed. “Yeah, yeah,” he sighs, brushing it off.

You’re absolutely beaming by now. “You’re not used to this, are you?” You tease as you scoop the foam from the milk pitcher into your ceramic mug, with chocolate and almond syrup in the bottom already. Mandy’s in the back stocking something, and no one else is in the shop yet. With this privacy, you lean across the counter, and Javier matches your position.

His face is painfully close to yours. You can feel his coffee breath, and you giggle softly. “Hey. Javi.”

“Yeah?” He asks teasingly.

“I like you a lot.”

Javier laughs genuinely, kissing you softly for a moment before breaking away and standing up straight again. “I like you too, abejita,” he says and finishes off his peppermint mocha.

“What does that mean?” You ask him. You’re nearly fluent in Spanish, from having studied it for years, but the word is unfamiliar.

“Little bee,” he chuckles. “You’re fluttering around this coffee shop like you’re on an adrenaline rush and it’s 5:30 in the goddamn morning.”

Little bee. It makes your heart race in your chest like a bee’s wings, a million beats per second. Goddamnit, this Javier knows what he’s doing, you think to yourself. He must be doing this for the sole purpose of stealing your heart; why else would he be this fucking sweet and sexy and flirtatious?

“It’s the caffeine rush,” you shake your head and wave a hand dismissively. You’ve already chugged a few shots of espresso, and your chocolate-almond cappuccino is about halfway gone now. Either way, Javier makes your resting heart rate double just from looking your way.

“Sure,” he teases and raises an eyebrow. “I’m gonna hit the bathroom. Be right back.” He sticks his hands in the pockets of his heavy wool coat as he heads to the restrooms, near the front of the store.

You take his mug back and Mandy wanders out from the back. “Wow. Who’s got you so chatty?” She asks out of genuine curiosity. She didn’t see Javier come in or go to the bathroom.

You’d talked with Mandy while you prepared the store, filling her in on all of the details of last night’s date with Javier. “It’s, uh, Javi, actually,” you laugh softly as you pull more espresso shots to make him another peppermint mocha.

“You’re kidding,” the woman squeals, her curls flipping over her shoulder as she tosses them back. “Why is he here so early?” She asks in confusion, making herself a drink on the machine next to you.

Your foot taps out a quick rhythm against the tile floor beneath you, the energy already flowing through your body. “Beats me. He says he wakes up this early normally. I don’t know if I believe it, but…” you shrug and stir the shots into the peppermint syrup, scooping chocolate chips into a steaming pitcher with milk and putting it under the steaming wand.

“He’s in the DEA, isn’t he?” She asks. “Maybe they start work really early in the morning. I’ve heard they work really long hours.”

“Well, he did say he works a lot,” you nod. “I don’t know. Doesn’t matter. He’s here now and he’ll get to see me cry my way through the morning rush,” you say sarcastically.

Mandy nudges your shoulder. “Says the most competent barista who works here,” she scoffs. “You have everyone out the door in under three minutes. That’s no easy feat.”

“Okay,” you roll your eyes and pour the chocolate milk into the syrup and espresso, stirring it with a long, twisted spoon. “I doubt that, but thank you.” You swirl a perfect peak of whipped cream on the top, then sprinkle the candy cane pieces on.

“I think she’s right,” you hear Javier’s voice from the other side of the counter.

“Stalker,” you tease and put his mug in front of him.

“Am not. Just think you’re good at what you do.”

“I made you a refill,” you say, ignoring his compliment. “Oh, Javier, this is Mandy. You might remember her from yesterday. Mandy, this is Javier.”

She nods and shakes the hand that Javier offers. “Nice to meet you- well, again,” she says with a bright smile. “You got the prettiest girl here.”

“Mandy,” you roll your eyes. She just laughs as she makes her way to the back of the store again.

Javier watches her then turns back to you with a smile. “I think she was right on both of those,” he comments with a smile on his face.

“Go sit down, stop flirting with me, and drink your damn coffee, Javi,” you teasingly scold him with a smile, turning away to go wash the steaming pitcher and spoon you used to make his drink.

Another customer walks in the shop. You can tell from the jingle of the bells on the door. With that, Javier finds a table in the lobby and sits at it, reading the daily newspaper and sipping his peppermint mocha. He’s starting to see why you’re so addicted to these. To him, they taste like you. -

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[clouditae]

First Love | 13

Yoongi x reader | 18+ | college au | tattoo artist au | angst | fluff | swearing

Word: 3.3k

You first saw him in the multi-purpose room. Later learn his name, and on your third year, as he becomes your neighbor, you discover his lifestyle. Knowing your crush on him was nothing but that, you wanted to find the courage to look for love. Asking your friend for help, you’re pointed in the direction of the expert. Your neighbor, Min Yoongi

Chapter Index

“So you and Hanbin?” 

You jump and blurt out, “What?” You turn around to face the source of the voice only to meet gazes with Yoongi. 

“You. Hanbin. You’re a couple now?” he says in a nonchalant tone as he looks at you with a lazy gaze. 

You can feel the heat on your cheeks and stomach flutter at his name. “No,” you answer. “We’re just friends.”

“Just friends?” He walks past you and up to his door. “From what I saw, that kiss wasn’t “just friends” for him.” He leans against his dorm door, crossing his arms over his chest. “You got someone already?” The way he says the last word irks you. It’s like he’s mocking you—or something else but he just irritates you.

“Why does it matter?” you ask, walking past him to stand next to your door. “Plus, how do you know about the kiss?”

“Well for starters you always tell me you’re not brave enough to do anything. Turns out you’re either lying or you’re really good at getting someone like him to fall for you. And I know about the kiss because you were extremely loud.” 

“Well I apologize for the noise and you should be proud that I don’t need you anymore if I can get someone like him—whatever that means,” you state matter of factly.

He stares at you with that stupid blank stare you’re beginning to hate so much. “Yeah. Okay. We’ll see how long that lasts before you end up in the bedroom with him.” He puts his key in the hole and turns the door knob. 

He enters his room, letting the door close behind him but you’re faster. Slamming your hand on his door and pushing it open. You ignore the stinging feeling on your hand as you say in an outraged tone, “I am sick and tired of you belittling me. Ever since we started this whole thing, you've only judged and acted rude towards me. I’m sorry for what happened to you, but you do not need to push your anger towards her onto me. I am not your distraction and I am not the reason you’re so angry.” You release the door and make your way towards your room. You hear the sound of his door closing as you open yours and enter your room. 

Ari is staring at you wide-eyed as the door closes behind you. “What?” you ask, tossing your backpack on your bed. 

A smile slowly grew on her lips. “Did you just tell him off?”

“Tell him off? I didn’t tell him off.” 

Ari laughs, “You so did! You were mad and you let him have it with how he was towards you.”

Your eyes widened a bit. “You heard me?” You plop on your chair. “Was I that loud?”

Ari shakes her head. “You weren’t loud, but I could hear you a bit. I didn’t hear everything, but just enough to know you set him straight.” 

You shrug, grabbing your backpack that is luckily close to the edge of your bed. “He was rude to me, and I guess I finally snapped.” 

“I can’t believe you brought Sam up in the conversation,” Ari states in awestruck. “You go girl.” 

You can’t help but sink in your chair a bit. “I can’t believe I said that when he doesn’t even know I know about her.” 

Your roommate laughs again, “Fuck that, and fuck him. He treats you like shit, you make him feel like shit. That’s that, Y/N. No guilt.” 

You let out the air you were holding. “No guilt,” you say more to yourself than to her.

“That’s my girl,” she says in a cheer like tone. “No guilt just dick.”

You turn towards her. “What?”

It’s her turn to shrug as she answers, “I don’t know. I heard some girl say it at a party once. It doesn’t make sense, but it kind of does if you’re trying to get laid? You’re not trying to get laid right now.” She shakes her head. “Just ignore the whole thing.” You can’t help but smile as you open your backpack and pull out your items to begin your homework. 

You’re about two hours in of doing your homework, Ari giving up twenty minutes after starting, when your phone dings, the screen lights up and shows the small message icon. Putting your pencil down, you pick up your phone and unlock the screen, clicking on the message. 

[3:17 pm] Hanbin: Hey Y/N. Are you free later tonight?

You feel your heart’s beat pick up as you reply.

[3:18 pm] Me: Hey. I’m free later. What’s up?

Locking your phone, you put it down to distract yourself from your mind going crazy, but it seems Hanbin is a quick texter as your phone dings once again. 

[3:18 pm] Hanbin: Would you like to meet up and have dinner together? We could eat at the dining hall if you prefer.

Maybe it's because she's your best friend, or maybe it's because you let out the biggest gasp—it's probably the gasp, but Ari asks, "What happened?" You turn to her with the widest eyes you think you can ever have. No words are forming, so you can only stick your phone out to her. She gets up from her chair and takes your phone, reading the message. Her eyes grow big, a shocked smile growing as she says animatedly, "You better go."

"I can't," you blurt, taking your phone back.

"You can, Y/N. If you like him, and he's asking you to hang out with him, take advantage of this! Who knows! Maybe he'll like you back and the two of you will go out and act like a cute couple. The jock and the shy girl. It's your typical teen movie!" She sounds so excited, as if she’s telling her favorite book to you.

"What makes you think he's a jock? You and I technically barely know him."

"He looks like he works out. He could play baseball? He hits those home runs like he can hit your home run right after—"

"Ari," you groan, covering your ears, no longer wanting to hear her perverted comments.

She cackles, "Okay, okay. I'm done." It's quiet between the two of you as you remove your hands from over your ears. "But I do think you should go. You never know what could happen. It could turn into something more, but it could also turn into a friendship."

You let out a long sigh. "Okay," you mumble, replying with shaky hands.

[3:23 pm] Me: Sure! If you want to come here and eat, or we can meet at the food court on campus.

[3:23 pm] Hanbin: Great! I'll meet you on campus if you don't mind

"What did he say?" Ari asks, no longer by her bed but looming over your shoulder to try and read your texts.

"He wants to meet at the food court," you answer, thumbs hovering over the keys with no way of replying coming to mind.

"Tell him you'll meet him there! Pick a time and we'll dress you cutely," Ari chimes, voice in a sing-song tone. You can only ignore her happy toned comment as you reply to his text.

[3:24 pm] Me: I don't mind

[3:25 pm] Hanbin: See you at 5? :)

Your heart races.

[3:25 pm] Me: See you at 5 :)

Ari squeals, "My Y/N is going on a date!" Grabbing your arm she pulls you to your feet. "You have almost an hour to get ready, so we need to work."

You turn to her. "Why do you make it sound like it's going to be a mission to make me look nice?" you ask in an offensive tone.

She lightly smacks your arm. "You know what I mean. We have less than an hour to make you more cuter than you already are. I feel like Hanbin is into cute girls while Yoongi is into hot girls, so cute is going to be so much easier because you're already cute. We just have to find the perfect outfit and apply some light make-up. Maybe put your hair up in a bun?" she rambles, opening her closet to look through her endless line of clothes.

"I don't want to look like I'm actually trying," you announce, watching her as she pulls out a light pink tank top and holding it out towards you to see how it would look.

"This is cute. Take it." Grabbing the top from her, Ari goes back to her closet and digs through it once more. "You won't look like you're trying. I'm going to dress you like you were in school a few hours ago. Cute outfit, light to no make-up, and hair in a messy bun." Ari brings out an olive colored cardigan. "Put this on and keep the jeans you're wearing."

You roll your eyes, take the clothing article and walk to the bathroom. After a quick top change, you come out to see her setting up her make-up station. "Sit, sit." For the remaining short time that you have, Ari works effortlessly to do your make-up perfectly and get your messy bun to look obviously messy but cute. By the time she is done, you have ten minutes to make it to the shuttle stop before it takes off and you have to wait another thirty minutes. She looks at you with such satisfaction. “You are so freaking cute, Y/N. If no guy dates you, I will.” 

You chuckle. “Thanks Ari.” 

Grabbing your wallet and bag from Ari, she grabs you by your shoulders to spin you around towards the door. She pushes you as she rushes, "Now go eat and have fun, and call me if something is fishy! I'll get there in a blink of an eye and beat the shit out of everyone that hurts you." She opens the door and pushes you out, pushing the door close before you can say anything. You can only sigh. How long will it take before Ari realizes your phone and keys are still on your desk. The door opens, Ari shoving your keys and phone at you. "Love you!" she says as you take your belongings.

The door closes leaving you alone. "Love you, too," you mutter, putting your wallet and keys in your bag. Doing a quick dig you luckily found earphones. You do a small cheer and put in your earphones, connecting it to your phone as you begin your walk towards the stop. You mouth the words to the song as you leave the building, make your way down the stairs and once again follow a group of people across the parking lot and towards the shuttle and bus stop.

You enter the shuttle seconds before the driver closes the doors and takes off towards the campus. You take a seat by the window and watch the scenery go by at a somewhat fast pace. Your favorite song comes on. It’s a somewhat romantic song and you can't help but wonder if this is a sign. A sign for you to move on and let your feelings grow for Hanbin?

You shake your head. You don't know if he has feelings for you. He kissed your forehead—it's not like he kissed your lips or cheek. Plus he was drunk so he probably doesn't remember it or if he just did it out of a friendly manner. Maybe he kisses all his friends who are girls like that. Maybe all his friends.

The campus comes into view as the shuttle drives past the main entrance to enter through the side where the driver will stop at the first stop. A few get off as a few enter the shuttle. After a few seconds of waiting for the cars to drive by, the shuttle continues its route. As the second stop begins to appear, the vehicle slows down, coming to a stop behind a bus. You grab your bag and follow one other student off the shuttle, thanking the driver as you step off the last step.

A few people run past you to make it to the bus that looks like it’s about to leave. You hope they make it as you make your way towards the main food court. As you begin to pass the student union building, you wonder if he meant the food court next to the bar and grill, or the food court that’s on the floor in the building you are now passing. Turning the corner that will lead you towards the escalators to the higher level of the campus you meet eyes with Hanbin, who’s exiting the same building you’re walking by.

He smiles. "Hey," he says, slipping his backpack on.

Taking in a quiet, shaky breath, you say, "Hi."

He walks alongside you as the two of you make your way towards the escalators. "I wasn't sure if we were meeting at this food court or the one by the bar," he laughs.

You smile, relieved he feels the same way you felt just moments ago. "Yeah. I wasn't sure either, so I thought the main one would be where you would be."

"Me too. I was on the first floor watching people bowling and I spent a good five minutes deciding if I should just go to the second floor or meet you at the one up here." He points to the building at the top of the escalator. "Guess I chose correctly."

You giggle, "I guess I chose correctly, too."

As the two of you step onto the escalator, letting it take you to the top, Hanbin asks, "What are you in the mood for?"

Crap. He put you on the spot. Now you actually have to think about what you want. You don't know—you didn't have time to think about it. You were so worried about meeting up with him and the whole kiss thing that you totally forgot about what it is that you two are going to eat. What do you say? Greek? Chinese? Japanese? A burrito? A burger? What. Do. You. Say? "I'm not sure yet," you blurt. Close enough.

"Shall we flip a coin?" he questions, fishing out from his pocket a coin. You nod. "Heads are whatever is up here, and tails is whatever is on the second floor." You nod again, watching as he gets the coin into position and tosses it into the air. The two of you watch the coin flip over and over again before landing back in his hand as he does one more flip and reveals the result on the back of his hand. "Tails it is." He gestures to the escalator behind you. "Guess we should go back down."

You smile turning around and following the line to the escalator and going down. "So what are you in the mood for down there?" you ask him, hoping he'll take the bait and pick rather than ask you again because you still do not know.

Hanbin taps his chin in thought. "They have a sub shop as well as Mexican I think?" He seems to have a eureka moment as he snaps his fingers. "There's a pizza shop outside the main entrance. Are you in the mood for pizza?"

Ah. Sbarro. "Yeah. Pizza sounds great."

"Okay, we'll just go through the court and head outside," he informs, taking the lead and entering the student union building. You follow in suit, walking inside and following him past all the tables and chairs that are taken up by students eating and chatting. You enter the lobby of the building where in the center of the room is the student information center. Walking out the front entrance door, you see it’s a bit similar to the outdoor seating by the food court. Along both walls are different stores. Hair parlor, a bank, and so much more along with the pizza shop to your left. Running along the shops are tables and chairs for students.

Walking towards the shop and entering the small building, you place your orders, arguing with Hanbin for a minute about paying, but he pays and the two of you wait at a small table. "Uh," Hanbin begins, adjusting in his seat across from you, "The reason I asked to meet you is because I wanted to talk about that kiss."

You swallow. "Okay."

He looks at you guiltily. Oh boy. What is he going to say? There are so many ideas that are running through your mind, but you don't want to listen to it. You don't want to let that get to you any longer. That fear of maybe it isn’t meant to be. Hanbin interrupts your thoughts, "I wanted to apologize for kissing you. I know it was sudden and I should not have done that—especially drunk, but..." he trails off, looking away. Scratching the back of his head, he mumbles, "I have a crush on you, and in the heat of a drunk moment, I kissed you. However, that doesn't excuse my actions."

You’re frozen in shock. Did you hear that correctly? No... Right? "What did you say?" you ask, voice just above a whisper.

"I'm sorry?"

You shake your head. "No, after that. The... uh."

Hanbin seems to catch on. The color on his cheeks change to a pinkish color. "I"—he clears his throat—"I have a crush on you."

"When?"

"When?" he repeats and you nod. "I guess since we met at the party. You were kind and pretty, and drunk you were even cuter." You're totally hallucinating. Right? "I just wanted to meet to apologize. I'm not looking for you to like me back or anything—plus we just met. I barely know you really," he rambles, and continues to ramble that you’re not even listening anymore.

Take advantage.

"I like you, too," you blurt, voice completely uneven.

Hanbin stops talking and is now staring at you. "What?"

You can't meet his eyes as you repeat yourself, "I like you, too." You look back up at him.

It’s like a weight is lifted off his shoulders and the slight fear in his eyes disappears. Hanbin smiles the biggest smile he can and it causes you to smile as well. "Shall we get to know each other more?"

You nod, and for the rest of the day the two of you sit, eat and talk about everything and anything. You discover his favorite color, why he decided to become a film major and so much more. From just his stories you love his older sister, and his mom is just an angel.

Sadly the sun is going and the shop is closing, so that means it’s time for you to go. The two of you continue to talk as you make your way towards the bus stop. When the two of you reach the stop, you see your shuttle idling by. Most likely waiting for time to go by before it takes off towards the dorms. You made it just in time.

"Well," Hanbin begins as you turn around to face him, "I guess I'll see you later."

You smile, acting like a schoolgirl as you twirl your finger around a loose string on your bag. "Yeah. I'll see you later."

Hanbin chuckles. "Bye, Y/N."

"Bye," you reply, waving as you turn around and enter the shuttle, showing your ID as you take the first seat. You can't see who else is in the vehicle, but you see a few heads. Thankfully they're all back seats kind of people so they can't see all your giddiness. Your phone rings and you quickly pull it out of your bag, forgetting you never put it on vibrate. You frown, answering the phone and looking out the window to Hanbin.

"Would you like to go on a date this weekend?" he asks, gaze towards the door where you had entered.

You chuckle, shining the light from your phone on the window. His attention is now where you are. "I'd love to."

[carlatsukinamistolemyhamsandwich]

Diabolik Lovers Survey 2020 Results

This year I got 138 responses in total, which is close to double the number I got in 2019 (74 responses) so a big thank you to all of you for taking part and for those who helped to promote it! Now onto the results:

Question 1. Who is your favorite DL character?

1. Subaru Sakamaki (18 votes) (3rd in CL poll, joint 4th in 2019 survey) 2. Shu Sakamaki (16 votes) (1st in CL poll, 1st in 2019 survey) 3. Ruki Mukami (13 votes) (4th in CL poll, joint 6th in 2019 survey) 4. Laito Sakamaki (12 votes) (8th in CL poll, 10th in 2019 survey) 5. Ayato Sakamaki (11 votes) (2nd in CL poll, 3rd in 2019 survey) 6. Reiji Sakamaki (10 votes) (9th in CL poll, 2nd in 2019 survey) 6. Carla Tsukinami (10 votes) (11th in CL poll, 4th in 2019 survey) 6. Kanato Sakamaki (10 votes) (6th in CL poll, joint 6th in 2019 survey) 9. Azusa Mukami  (8 votes) (12th in CL poll, 13th in 2019 survey) 9. Yui Komori (8 votes) (7th in CL poll, no votes in 2019 survey) 11. Yuma Mukami (7 votes) (10th in CL poll, joint 6th in 2019 survey) 12. Shin Tsukinami (6 votes) (14th in CL poll, joint 11th in 2019 survey) 13. Kino (3 votes) (13th in CL poll, joint 11th in 2019 survey) 14. Kou Mukami (1 vote) (5th in CL poll, joint 6th in 2019 survey) 14. Richter (1 votes) (did not feature in CL poll, no votes in 2019 survey)

Note: 3 people said they didn’t have a favorite character and 1 person skipped the question. Karlheinz, Beatrix, Cordelia, Christa and Yuri were all available options but they did not receive any votes. I’ve included where they came in the CL poll (the most recent official popularity poll) to show how the results compare. Below you can also see how the voting breaks down compared to the 2019 survey.

While I was a little surprised that Subaru managed to dethrone Shu as the fandom’s overall favorite, I was not surprised by him, Shu, Ruki and Ayato all featuring in the top 5 considering their rankings in the CL poll. Laito also managed to sneak his way in there but considering that he was the winner of the 2018 survey, that wasn’t much of a surprise to me either.

The thing that I really don’t understand is what on Earth happened with Kou. Up until 24 hours before the survey closed, he didn’t have a single vote (lone Kou fan, thank you for stepping up), despite doing pretty well in the CL poll and the 2019 survey. If anyone has any theories on where all the Kou fans have gone then let me know because I am baffled.

Anyway, onto the rest of the survey, because this post is extremely long, I’ve put the rest below the cut.

Question 2. Who is your least favorite diaboy?

1. Kanato Sakamaki (42 votes) (1st in 2019 survey) 2. No least favorite (15 votes) (2nd option in 2019 survey) 3. Kino (14 votes) (3rd in 2019 survey) 4. Ruki Mukami (12 votes) (joint 6th in 2019 survey) 5. Ayato Sakamaki (10 votes) (4th in 2019 survey) 6. Carla Tsukinami  (9 votes) (no votes in 2019 survey) 7. Reiji Sakamaki (7 votes) (joint 6th in 2019 survey) 8. Shin Tsukinami (6 votes) (joint 6th in the 2019 survey) 8. Azusa Mukami (6 votes) (joint 10th in 2019 survey) 10. Shu Sakamaki (5 votes) (no votes in 2019 survey) 11. Kou Mukami (3 votes) (5th in 2019 survey) 11. Laito Sakamaki (3 votes) (9th in 2019 survey) 11. Yuma Mukami (3 votes) (joint 10th in 2019 survey) 14. Subaru Sakamaki (2 votes) (no votes in 2019 survey)

Note: I discounted one vote for Subaru on this question, as the participant had also voted for him as their favorite character so I assumed they misunderstood this question.

Every single year I’ve done this, Kanato has come first in this category by a massive margin and (while I will admit he’s my own least favorite) I am still no closer to understanding why he gets so many votes. If anyone does have any theories then do let me know.

Other than that, Kino’s placement certainly isn’t a surprise given his place in the 2019 survey and that he was the villain in all of the other characters LE routes, which I suspect has not endeared him to many. I do find it interesting that Ruki and Ayato (who did well in the popularity poll) were also in the top 5 for this question. 

I also wasn’t expecting Shu, golden boy of the fandom, to actually rank higher than some of the other characters in this question and to only have one less vote than Shin (who is considerably less popular and did some fairly deplorable things in the other character’s DF routes). 

Question 3. What is your favorite type of DL media?

1. The games 60 votes (1st in 2019 survey) 2. The drama CDs 46 votes (2nd in 2019 survey) 3. The character songs 9 votes (3rd in 2019 survey) 3. The merch (e.g. plushies, badges, straps etc) 9 votes (4th in 2019 survey) 5. The anime 8 votes (5th in 2019 survey) 5. The manga 6 votes (6th in 2019 survey)

I don’t really think there’s much to comment on with this one, the results are pretty similar to last year and given that the drama CDs and the games collectively provide most of the story content for DL, it’s not at all surprising that they’re the fan favorites.

Question 4. If you have played and/or read translations for the games, which is your favorite?

1. Dark Fate (39 votes) (1st in 2019 survey) 2. Haunted Dark Bridal (27 votes) (2nd in 2019 survey) 3. More Blood (13 votes) (3rd in 2019 survey) 4. Vandead Carnival  (10 votes) (7th in 2019 survey)  5. Lost Eden 8 votes (5th in 2019 survey) 6. Chaos Lineage 8 votes (4th in 2019 survey) 7. Lunatic Parade 6 votes (6th in 2019 survey) Note: 20 people said they had not played the games or read translations of them.

DF, HDB and MB all remain as the top 3 games of franchise. I was a bit surprised to see VC jump up so much though, although I know some more translations for it have been posted recently, and a game being translated will always help to boost it’s popularity within the fandom.

Question 5. If you have listened to and/or read translations of the drama CDs, which set of CDs includes your favorite?

1. Bonus CDs (19 votes) (4th in 2019 survey) 2. Para-Selene (18 votes) (2nd in 2019 survey) 3. Bloody Bouquet (14 votes) (1st in 2019 survey) 4. Zero (13 votes) (joint 5th in 2019 survey) 5. The original do-s vampire CDs (11 votes) (3rd in 2019 survey) 6. More Blood do-s vampire (8 votes) (joint 5th in 2019 survey) 7. Verus II (7 votes) (joint 5th in 2019 survey) 8. More, More Blood (6 votes) (not an option in the 2019 survey) 9. Dark Fate (4 votes) (no votes in 2019 survey) 9. Born To Die (4 votes) (joint 9th in 2019 survey) 11. Verus I (3 votes) (joint 9th in 2019 survey) 12. Eternal Blood (2 votes) (no votes in 2019 survey) 13. Versus III  (1 vote) (joint 8th in 2019 survey) 13. Versus IV (1 vote) (no votes in 2019 survey) 13. Chaos Lineage  (1 vote) (joint 8th in 2019 survey) Note: the Lost Eden CDs (joint 8th in the 2019 survey) did not receive any votes and 26 people said they had not listened to or read translations of the drama CDs, 6 more than those who had not played or read translations of the games. 

I was pretty surprised to see the Bloody Bouquet CDs bumped down to third place considering that they won far and away in the 2018 and 2019 surveys, especially with the Zero CDs coming so close behind them. Para-Selene (my own personal favorite set of drama CDs) is still a fan favorite, and while I know many people enjoy the bonus CDs, I certainly wasn’t expecting to see them take the top spot.

In terms of other things to note, I do find it interesting that the Eternal Blood CDs (which feature the Mukamis) are less popular than the Born To Die CDs (which feature the Tsukinamis and Kino), considering that in this survey, the Mukami brothers got more votes combined than the Tsukinamis + Kino, and I’m pretty sure all of the Eternal Blood CDs have been translated, while to my knowledge, no English translations exist for the BTD CDs (although you can find a summary of Shin’s on this blog), so I would have expected this to be the other way around.

Question 6. How long have you been interested in DL?

1. More than 4 years but less than 6 years (55 votes)  2. More than 2 years but less than 4 years (26 votes)  3. More than 6 years but less than 8 years (15 votes)  4. Up to six months (9 votes)  5. Over 8 years (7 votes) 6. More than 6 months but less than 1 year (6 votes) 7. Less than 1 month (2 votes) Note: 6 people said they couldn’t remember how long they’d been interested in DL for.

It seems the majority of us have been here for years (truly, there is no escaping diahell) but it was nice to see so many newcomers to the fandom take part this year, especially as we haven’t really had that much new content. 

I mentioned this in the 2019 survey results post but I do wonder whether the release of the MB anime (a little over 5 years ago), may have some correlation with a large chunk of the fandom (or at least the portion that took part in this survey) being into the series for between 4-6 years.

Question 7. If you answered the survey I did last year, have any of your choices changed since then?

Note: Multiple options could be selected here.

My favorite character has changed: 21 votes

My least favorite diaboy has changed: 17 votes

My favorite DL game has changed: 9 votes

My favorite drama CD has changed: 18 votes

There were definitely more changes this year compared to last year (although given the much larger sample size, that’s to be expected), but it does seem most are fairly firm in their favorites. 

Question 8. If you purchased one of the More, More Blood CDs, which version did you get? 

Deluxe edition: 7 votes (5.22%)

Regular edition: 4 votes (2.99%)

Deluxe edition from Animate: 7 votes (5.22%)

Deluxe edition from Stellaworth: 2 votes (1.49%)

Deluxe edition of the same CD from Animate & Stellaworth: 3 votes (2.24%)

Multiple MMB CDs (some regular, some deluxe): 5 votes (3.73%)

Did not buy any of the MMB CDs: 106 votes (79.10%)

Note: 4 people skipped this question.

I mostly asked this question because I was curious as to how many people bought the deluxe edition versus the normal edition, especially as after listening to Shin’s (and from the comments I saw online) I feel like you really need the bonus CD you get with the deluxe edition to nicely wrap up the story.

I was sort of expecting most people to go for the deluxe edition, as I think if you’re ordering your favorite's CD, you’re going to want the maximum content with them possible, even if it does come with a bigger price tag.

As for why so many people went for the Animate bonus over the Stellaworth bonus, I imagine this was because Animate has an international online store (although I think whether you can actually get the bonus drama CDs from them is variable) while Stellaworth only ships in Japan, which means if you order from them, you have to use a proxy service which really hikes up the price.

Question 9. Out of the following things released within the last year, which has been your favorite?

1. 4-panel More, More Blood comics (28 votes) 1. Winter of Lovers merch (28 votes) 3. More, More Blood CDs (24 votes) 4. Masquerade Jewel merch (18 votes) 5. My Melody collaboration merch (15 votes) 6. Other (14 votes) 7. Merch from Rejet 2020 Fes (10 votes) Note: 1 person skipped this question.

I thought for sure the More, More Blood CDs would win this one but I seriously underestimated just how popular the More, More Blood comics and merch lines were. I suppose given that the bonus drama CDs came first in the Drama CD category and the MMB comics are much in the same vein (as in they both contain humorous content), it isn’t that much of a surprise, especially as the comics are posted online and are therefore much more accessible to international fans than the drama CDs.

As for the merch lines, Winter of Lovers is the most recently released set, so it may be possible that this is partially responsible for it’s popularity (i.e. it’s the merch line freshest in people’s minds).

Question 10. Which of the upcoming DL releases are you the most excited for?

1. Young Blood manga (64 votes) 2. Daylight CDs (25 votes) 3. Releases that have yet to be announced (20 votes) 4. Count Off (9th anniversary song) (7 votes) Note: 22 people went for the “Can’t choose/ Not excited for any of these” option.

The Young Blood manga won here by a massive margin, which is pretty interesting considering that the DL manga ranked lowest in question 3. That being said though I suspect this manga will be more popular than the others as it should give us more of the boys’ backstories.

I’ve seen several people hoping for the unannounced release (that we should find out more about April) to be a new game. Personally I’m not super convinced that’s going to be the case as new game announcements tend to be done at Otomate party (as was the case with CL in 2018), which is scheduled for July. However, I do admit that I think a new game would be a really good way to celebrate DL’s tenth anniversary (which is coming up December next year), so I don’t think it’s completely outside of the realms of possibility that we may get another game at some point. 

Either way I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what happens in April.

And that’s it for the 2020 survey. Again, thanks to everyone who took part, I’d be interested to hear your thoughts on the results, was there anything that surprised you?

[geekywritings]

JUNGKOOK X READER PART 2 - Is this real life or am I in a drama?

Part 2 of my little Jungkook x Reader story. For all who need a recap of Part 1: You are a young vet, just trying to make your way home from work when suddenly Jungkook falls right into your car, taking refuge from a group of sasaengs. You give him a ride home and he exchanges contact details with you, promising to stay in touch.

The prompt for part 2 is: “It’s pouring rain, why are you here?”

For the next few days, all you could think about was that meeting. It still seemed so very surreal. And you didn’t even dare tell anyone about the incident, because who would really believe you? Even your best friends and work colleagues would just raise and eyebrow and shake their heads most likely. Such things simply didn’t happen to people. They were part of k-drama scripts or popular web toons and after a week, you did start to wonder if it had all been some kind of strange dream.

But exactly that evening, when you had just come out of the shower to enjoy a cup of tea and a new episode of your favourite show, your phone beeped with a new Kakao Talk message. You gave your phone a lazy glance and then almost dropped your mug when you saw it was from none other than Jungkook.

JK: “I’m sorry for the late reply, Miss Vet. Things got kinda hectic. But I have not forgotten my promise. I still owe you that thank you.”

You had to reread that message a few times and for a second you wondered if it was a scam perhaps, but who else would now about that event but him? For a second you wondered what to answer before typing:

Y/N: “No problem. You are an idol after all. And you did already thank me.”

It took only a few seconds until his answer popped up.

JK: “It still doesn’t feel like enough.”

Wow, did he know how cool that sounded? 

Y/N: “You don’t have to worry. Really. I’m glad I could help.”

This time he took a bit longer to reply.

JK: “Do you like flowers?”

Y/N: “Yes of course. Who doesn’t?”

JK: “Which ones are your favourites?”

That one was harder to answer. You liked quite a few and just named them all, allowing him to make the final choice.

JK: “Great. Can I send them to your workplace? I don’t think florists deliver late in the evening.”

It was sweet that he was so dead set on sending you flowers as a proper thank you and while part of you was delighted, the other part wondered how to explain the bouquet to your colleagues at the vet office. Still, you typed in your adress and sent it out. 

From then on you thought the conversation would end, but apparently Jungkook was in a talkative mood. He revealed that he had a free evening and was just relaxing on the couch with a good meal, before asking you what you were up to. You told him about the drama and he suggested watching at the same time, sharing comments through text. 

You had never done anything like it before, least of all with a stranger, but Jungkook seemed so nice and it didn’t feel so intimidating to write with an idol over messages. And after the first few shared comments, you actually started to really enjoy it. You two ended up talking throughout the entire episode, which was almost an hour long and then even half an hour on top until Jungkook announced that he was heading to bed. Noticing the time, you realized it was time to hit the pillows yourself. 

But as you laid there in your bed, you kept reading through the chat history, as if making sure it was still real. Especially that “Goog Night” with the cute little emoji brought a smile to your face, before you finally turned off the night light.

____

For the next two weeks, he kept writing texts every other day. Sometimes it was just a random “How are you?” or a comment to your recently posted Kakao Story that he didn’t dare post publicly. But sometimes he would ask if you were watching that drama again to share comments in real time. It had become kind of a ritual when the third week started and a day without his messages felt weird. You still couldn’t tell anyone about it, but your friends and colleagues did start noticing your smiles and your eager grabs for the phone. But whenever they teased, you just said it was some guy online. Their would never believe the truth and you didn’t want to put Jungkook in trouble either. You had seen how crazy his fans could be, so the last thing he needed was your chats to become the topic of online gossip. Besides, it was kind of exhilarating to have a secret like that. At this point, you had already totally forgotten about the flowers.

During the fourth week of knowing Jungkook, you were staying late at the clinic, taking your regular night shift to take care of your little patients. You had just made your rounds, giving all the animals their medicine and checking on their bandages, before sitting down in the reception area, in case of emergencies coming in. But it was a super quiet evening, so you took out your phone. Almost on cue, a message popped up: “Finished work?”

Y/N: “Nope, having a night shift today.”

JK: “Oh, sounds tough.”

Y/N: “Not really. It’s quiet tonight.”

Nothing came after that and you put the phone away again, turning your head to the entry, the glassdoor giving you a perfect view of the rain shower outside. It really was coming down hard today. Bored, you took another round visiting your furry patients, giving them an extra round of cuddles. Suddenly the sound of the door tore through the hallway and you were quick to place the cat with the broken paw down to go and check on the new arrival.

You were utterly stunned to see Jungkook standing in the half opened door, dripping wet and with a huge bouquet of your favourite flowers in hand. 

“It’s pouring rain! Why are you here?!”, you exclaimed, approaching him with a shake of your head. 

“Well, florists dont deliver at this hour.”, he said cheekily with a shrug. “So I came personally.” 

He held out the dripping bouquet to you, which you took gratefully, enjoying the heavy fragrance of the flowers.

“You really shouldn’t have, but thank you. They are gorgeous.”, you said, sending him a smile, before inviting him to the staff room. 

“Let me make you a tea and grab you a towel.”

“You got coffee instead?”, he asked, running a hand through his hair. It had changed color, you noticed, though you also instantly thought that you prefered it black. 

A few minutes later you came back with a small towel and a steaming cup of coffee, taking a seat across from him at the small table. The entire room was tiny, but it was enough for the team.

“So this is where you work, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s a good place. It has nice people and I like how we truly take our time for each patient.”, you explained. You knew that not every clinic was like that, having done internships elsewhere during your studies. 

“Aren’t you busy though?”, it was now your turn to ask him a question.

“I am most nights, but we do get our time off as well.”, Jungkook replied. “Our agency is a good place too.” You nodded, having read up a bit about Big Hit since your meeting with one of their idols. You also realized that you did know and enjoy quite a few of BTS’ songs, even though you had never been able to put a face to them. Now you enjoyed them even more.

“Do you want a tour?”, you asked, after a minute of silence fell between you, during which Jungkook tried to dry his hair. He agreed with a nod, before following you around. There wasn’t much to show, but he did spend some time in the patient rooms, giving the animals some pets and cuddles. He was good with them, you notcied and they seemed to like him in return.

“You have two cats at home, right?”, he asked, his hand still stroking a fat tabby, who was at the clinic because of stomach problems. The owner insisted something was wrong with him, even though you had determined that he just needed a change in food and a consistent diet. 

“Yeah, Mr. Paws and Pogi.”, you replied. “I got them both from here, when the owners didn’t want them anymore.”

Jungkook’s eyes snapped to you, one of his eyebrows raised. “People do that?”

“Sometimes, unfortunately. Mr. Paws has a missing paw, ironically. We had to amputate it and the owner thought his cat would need special treatment because of it. And Pogi just needs regular medication and special food.” Small things really, but some owners just couldn’t handle it. 

“I saw pictures of them and I never notcied the missing paw.”, Jungkook said.

“I don’t make a point of making it the focus on pictures.” 

You ended the tour back in the staff room, where Jungkook took his coffee for a few sips, the drink instantly helping to warm him up. 

“I have to miss our drama this friday.”, he suddenly announced. “So you have to give me detailed updates or at least a good summary.”

“You could just watch the rerun online.”, you suggested.

“It’s no fun alone. So unless you can wait a day for the new episode...”

“I make no promises, since the last episode ended on a cliffhanger.. but I’ll try to be patient.” He smiled at your humor, but you were serous. The show was more enjoyable with him. 

“How did you get here?”, you eventually asked.

“I took a cab, but told them to let me out in front of a restaurant nearby. From there I walked.” In the pouring rain no less. Probably so the cab driver wouldn’t tell where he went. It was a clever ruse, but it was a shame that it was even necessary. 

“Need a ride home?”, you asked. “I think I’m not a bad driver and I have some minor experience with idol passengers.”

His smile grew even wider at that. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“But I do stil have to work for an hour before I can take my break.”, you said, glancing at the clock on the wall.

“Just a break? What time do you go home?”

“This is just like a hospital with normal night shifts. Usually they are covered by our senior staff, but because some are on holiday, the task falls to me. So today, I’m staying till 7am. But I get the next day off.”, you explained. Those almost 24 hour shifts were draining, but rare, so you didn’t mind them at all. 

“Oh, I think I will need loads of coffee to make it until 7am...”, he said.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I might as well keep you company. That will be the perfect way to show my gratitude.”

“You really don’t have you...”; you started. 

“I have a free day tomorrow as well, so I don’t mind.”, he insisted casually. “Besides, we get a chance to talk about that drama in person. It’s easier than typing.”

You still didn’t get why he wanted to stay. Somehow you could not imagine that it was because he simply started to enjoy your company through your online talks.

For almost the whole night, you just talked and drank copious amounts of coffee. He followed you on your patrol rounds, helping you with minor tasks whenever he could. And although it was strange, it was the best night shift ever. Most of the time, it didn’t feel like you were hanging out with an idol, but just with a really nice guy. A really handsome one at that. 

“This is nice.”, Jungkook said, voicing what you had been thinking. “But I do need another coffee.”

“You could also just take a nap.”, you offered. “I’ll wake you before it’s time to go.” It was already 4 am at this point. 

He seemed to think about the offer. “Ok, but we will grab some breakfast together to make up for lost time.”

Did he really feel like he owed you all this time? You weren’t quite sure what to answer, so you just nodded and went to grab him a blanket. There was a small sofa in the staff room specifically for the nightshift or patients who could not see blood. 

“Goodnight, Jungkook.”

“Goodnight, Y/N”

Hearing it live was so much better than reading his text you decided. And with a smile you made yourself another coffee to last the remaining hours. 

[bytheangell]

Take Me With You

(For my @shadowhunterbingo square: Traveling | Jimon, Rated Teen, referenced alcohol but no archive warnings/other warnings) (Read on AO3) “I don’t need a bodyguard,” Simon insists. “It was one stupid letter.”

“The letter wasn’t stupid,” Jace says, already regretting his appointment to this job. “It was a death threat, by someone who’s sent multiple things to your unlisted apartment.”

“Well, no one knows where I live on the road, which is where I’ll be for the next three months,” Simon points out.

“Oh, yes, the total inability to track you from a list of cities you’re going to and the dates and times you’ll be there. You’re right, no one will ever find you that way,” Jace says, his tone dripping with sarcasm and more than a little condescending. Simon isn’t a no-name, but he isn’t famous-famous either, and Jace hoped that’d make him a little less awful to put up with than Jace’s usual high-profile assignments. So far it’s the opposite - Simon isn’t taking this seriously at all, which is somehow more frustrating than too much importance being put on minor perceived threats.

Simon sighs. “Fine.” It certainly doesn’t sound like he’s fine with it, but Jace isn’t here to argue. He’s here to do a job.

“Great,” Jace says. “You won’t even know I’m here.”

---

That ends up being a complete lie. Of course, when Jace first imagined blending into the background of Simon’s tour life he hadn’t taken into consideration the fact that Simon drove his own van, which would just be the two of them for extended periods of time.

Jace can tell that he’s putting a damper in the way Simon normally functions during his tours, mostly because he’s quiet while they drive. Then he’ll say something, start to ramble, catch himself rambling, and fall abruptly silent again in a repeating pattern.

“Sorry if I’m cramping your style,” Jace says after one of these repetitions, speaking loud enough to be heard over the music playing in the background.

“You’re not,” Simon insists.

Jace is dubious. “What would you be doing if you were alone?” Jace asks.

Simon doesn’t even hesitate before answering, “Scream-singing at the top of my lungs with the windows down. It’s like, my tried-and-true road trip routine.”

“...so do it. Don’t let me stop you,” Jace says.

“My manager hates it because he’s convinced one of these days I’ll end up losing my voice before a show. It’s probably for the best I’m not,” Simon says before falling silent again.

Jace doesn’t push it, nor does he comment when Simon starts to sing to a song that comes on about half an hour later, his voice growing louder and louder until all the windows are down and he’s shouting lyrics into the cool night air.

Jace has to fight the urge to join him. Normally he doesn’t have an issue staying focused on a job but Simon has this disarming way of making Jace want to relax around him. Somehow what he thought would be his easiest job to date continues to throw surprising complications his way.

Still, he keeps his mouth shut and enjoys Simon’s singing as they continue driving into the night.

---

Watching Simon with his fans is nerve-wracking. There’s no telling who might be a threat, not when everyone seems so down-to-earth, much like Simon himself. There aren’t any obviously obsessive fangirls and normal tells like knowing too many personal details is just the norm, with multiple people casually asking Simon about how his Bubbie Helen is doing or about the cat he left at home with Clary during his tour, or the most recent book he’s been reading and chatting about online. It’s difficult to pick out a potential stalker when everyone knows what Jace would typically consider more personal details than usual about Simon.

Jace watches these pre- and post-show encounters with a feeling more like he’s observing conversations between old friends rather than a musician and his fans, signatures and photo ops aside. Simon knows some of them by name, remembers birthdays mentioned over social media or live chats, and even recalls previous conversations. It’s impressive.

Dressed in plain clothes so he blends in with the crowd, Jace grows increasingly impressed with Simon the more time he spends with him. Plenty of people claim to be humble, but few often are in practice. Not Simon. Simon is everything he told Jace when they first met. He’s the same way with his fans that he is in private with Jace, which is the same way he is with his family and friends - Simon’s just, well, Simon, honestly and earnestly and unapologetically.

It’s refreshing. It’s also just another thing for Jace to push to the back of his mind, because he doesn’t need to like the guy - he just needs to protect him. Simon looks up from the table he’s signing CDs at and shoots Jace a beaming smile, and Jace has to actively force himself not to smile back and simply nod his head in acknowledgment instead.

“It’s an assignment, Herondale. Get your shit together,” Jace mutters to himself from the corner of the room. It’s a reminder he repeats more often over the upcoming weeks than he’s comfortable admitting.

---

“Please,” Jace begs after the first two weeks of shows. “I will pay for a better hotel. Let me pay for a better hotel.”

Simon is shaking his head in response before Jace finishes the request.

“Why?!” Jace glances critically around the room. “Do you want to get murdered in a shady motel? Just because I can keep you alive doesn’t mean we have to actively test it every night when we could have a door that doesn’t look like my 11-year-old brother could kick it in.”

“You have a brother?” Simon asks, ignoring everything else Jace said as he tosses his duffel bag (because Simon doesn’t even have a proper suitcase) onto a bed Jace feels the instinctive need to run a blacklight over.

Jace hesitates to answer because this is a job and he isn’t meant to share personal information about himself with his assignment. It’s strange because normally the people he’s tasked to protect are such self-absorbed assholes they barely spare Jace a second glance, let alone casual conversation.

He’s aware that the pause he takes after what should be a simple question is way too long when Simon frowns, brows pinching together.

“Two brothers, actually. One older, one younger, and a sister,” Jace finally decides to share. It’s all he intends on saying, not wanting to be rude and not answer at all, but when Simon brings up his own sister and keeps talking, keeps asking curious, harmless questions, Jace finds himself answering without thinking.

Simon is easy to talk to - maybe a little too easy to talk to, because the next thing they know it’s 1am and they need to be up and back on the road at 6.

“Get some sleep, Lewis,” Jace says finally, taking a few extra minutes to secure the door before doing one last perimeter sweep. When he gets back he pretends he doesn’t notice Simon, still awake, hastily close his eyes and pretend to sleep the second Jace gets back in the room.

---

After the third week, Jace insists that staying at nicer hotels is a matter of security and finally convinces Simon to pull into the parking lot of a proper hotel. One with room service instead of vending machines, plus a gym and a pool. Jace tells himself it’s a matter of security as well, and not a reaction to Simon complaining about having several nights of terrible sleep and some back and neck pain from the old, cheap mattresses.

Jace certainly doesn’t correct Simon’s assumption that this is covered in the contract when in reality Jace is fronting the extra cost himself. After all, this is as much for his own benefit as it is for Simon’s, right?

That’s what he tells himself as he opens up more around Simon as well, sharing a drink or two when Simon insists (never anything enough to impair his judgment, and only ever when they’re back in a room for the remainder of the night), telling a few more personal stories, and… flirting?

Jace isn’t sure, but occasionally when Simon impulsively runs into an ice cream shop in a new city and gets a cone for each of them, or points out a storefront display with a leather jacket he thinks Jace might like, or leans his shoulder into Jace while laughing at something sarcastic Jace says… yeah, sometimes Jace gets the feeling that Simon might actually like him.

Then Jace just as quickly tells himself that it’s just Simon being nice, because Simon is nice, and because of course Simon’s going to be on good terms with the guy he’s stuck with 24/7 for two months. Jace is working for Simon, and their relationship is strictly professional, however pleasant it may also be.

It’s that hard line Jace knows they won’t cross that allows him to continue to open up more, because Simon’s safe. He’ll never see the guy again when all of this is over.

“You’re a good person, Jace,” Simon says one night after a lengthy conversation.

“...what?” Jace isn’t expecting that.

“You know that, right?” Simon’s tone is just shy of insistent, and certainly not rhetorical.

“Why do you say that?” Jace asks instead of agreeing, because… well, because he doesn’t know that. He tries, but he’s made some shitty decisions in his past, and hurt a lot of people, intentionally or not. And Simon doesn’t even know him, so Jace really doesn’t know where this is coming from.

“Just… the way you talk about yourself sometimes. Like you always have something to prove, or make up for... or like you have to justify everything you say. Sometimes I get the feeling you don’t think very highly of yourself even when you’re acting like God’s gift to mankind,” Simon adds with more accurate insight than Jace is comfortable with.

And now Jace really doesn’t know what to do with that.

“What are you, a philosopher now?” Jace mutters, still avoiding any sort of direct commentary on Simon’s way-too-close-to-home observation. “Go to sleep, Simon. I don’t need you too tired to focus on the road tomorrow.”

Simon looks like he’s going to argue but doesn’t in the end, leaving Jace alone with his thoughts in the newly settling silence of the hotel room.

It feels surprisingly pleasant to hear those affirmations from Simon, and Jace considers for the briefest moment what it’d be like to just be friends with Simon outside of their circumstances, to have these discussions and delve deeper into both of their pasts, humoring more of Simon’s personal questions and--

--and everything he can’t let this turn into over the next few weeks. Fuck.

Maybe there’s some harm in opening up after all.

---

They’re a little over halfway through the three-month tour when Jace realizes that perhaps his harmless crush on Simon is stronger than he realized. Jace watches from his usual spot in the corner as Simon signs CDs and sells band t-shirts and poses for photos, which is what he always does. But with every flirtatious laugh and every arm Simon drapes over someone’s shoulder or wraps around someone’s waist, Jace feels the desire to pull Simon away... and it isn’t because he’s in danger. It’s because Jace is jealous.

Jace grows sullen at the realization, arms crossed in front of him as he forces himself to watch Simon with his fans, because this is his job. The more he watches the more he doesn’t even think Simon realizes he’s doing it. Jace knows what active, intentional flirting looks like, but this is just Simon being his natural charming self, and Jace isn’t sure if that makes the whole thing better or worse.

Because it starts to dawn on him with a bit more meaning now that the way Simon’s been with him is the way Simon is with everyone. Jace just gets to experience it more often than everyone else right now. That doesn’t make their conversations special. It doesn’t make Jace anything special to Simon. And hell, maybe it’s just been a while since Jace spent this much time with someone else, too. Maybe he should work on writing off his own motivations as easily as he’s writing off Simon’s because his feelings are far from professional right now.

When the crowd disperses and Jace goes to help Simon wrap up his gear and load it back into the van (something that’s become routine for them, though not strictly in Jace’s list of expected duties) Jace is quieter than usual.

“Everything alright?” Simon asks, catching the shift in mood.

“Yeah. Fine,” Jace says curtly.

Simon doesn’t look like he believes him but doesn’t press the topic as they toss the last of the equipment into the van and head out.

---

The nicer Simon is toward him, the more closed-off Jace gets. He’s quiet during dinners Simon insists on paying for, stops sharing so much about himself when they do talk, and when Simon gives Jace a guitar pick he fashioned into a necklace for him Jace pockets it with a muttered ‘thanks’ without putting it on. He doesn’t have the heart to totally push Simon away, but he can’t keep growing closer to him knowing it’s all going to end in three weeks.

Jace wears the necklace every day but he keeps it tucked underneath his shirts where Simon can’t see.

Simon eventually stops trying to talk to him entirely, and they spend more and more time in uncomfortable silences. Sometimes Simon insists he needs privacy to work on his music and Jace sits at the end of the hallway of their hotel room listening to the faded sounds of Simon’s strumming.

There are three weeks left in Jace’s assignment when he gets the call that the police managed to track the letters to a girl back in New York: she’s in custody and getting a restraining order put against her, and Jace can come back as soon as he arranges transportation.

Jace hangs up the phone feeling surprisingly upset. This is great news for Simon, and he should be happy for him if nothing else, but that means this is the last night he’ll have to spend with Simon.

The last night he’ll get to spend with Simon.

“Hey Simon, good news. I just got a call from Luke and they tracked down your mystery stalker. You’ll get all the details once you’re back home but they’re already putting the restraining order into place, so you’re good to go.”

“What? That’s amazing!” Simon grins automatically, but it falls back into a frown just as quickly. “Does that mean you…?” his words trail off in question.

“I’ll be able to leave in the morning,” Jace confirms.

“Guess you’ll be happy to get out of here,” Simon says, his smile entirely gone.

“I do miss New York,” Jace carefully avoids the answer he knows Simon’s fishing for. The lie he should give, but can’t bring himself to.

Simon looks Jace up and down, his gaze finally resting on Jace’s face for a long couple of seconds, searching for something there before turning away without another word.

---

Jace knows he shouldn’t go to the show, but he does. He hangs in the back, a real drink in hand now that he’s no longer on duty, and listens to Simon sing the songs Jace knows by heart now. Jace knows from experience standing by the side of the stage that there’s no way Simon can make out any faces where Jace currently sits back by the bar. He plans on leaving before the end, before the lights come on and Simon knows he was there.

He’s a few drinks in when he hears Simon break his usual format.

“How does everyone feel about me trying out a new song I’ve been working on?” Simon asks. The crowd claps and cheers, and Jace shifts in his seat to fully face the stage. “This is a song about feeling a connection with someone, and not knowing when things went wrong, only that they did. And wondering if maybe it was all in your head the whole time...”

Jace feels his throat tighten at those words. He doesn’t have to be a genius to piece together the lyrics Simon starts to sing, fitting them to their lives the past few months, the hope of getting to know someone you’re starting to like, the confusion of being shut out, the uncertainty of wondering if they ever felt the same way you did or if they were just humoring you.

Jace knows Simon well enough to know that this isn’t a coincidence. It can’t be.

Against his better judgment, Jace stays. He stays until the set is over and the lights come on and Simon looks out around the crowd and makes direct eye contact with him.

Because fuck it. He’s leaving in the morning, and if this is all for nothing then he’ll never see Simon again and it won’t matter. But if he’s right…

Jace hangs back, watching Simon smile and laugh and sign CDs and take photos, acutely aware of every time the musician’s eyes wander over to where Jace lingers by the bar. Outside of the fading buzz from the alcohol it almost feels normal: hanging back after the show, watching Simon and waiting for him to make his way over once the crowd disperses. Hell, even the butterflies in Jace’s stomach aren’t new.

“You’re here,” Simon says when he finally makes his way over. “I didn’t think you’d come, since… I mean…”

“I heard your new song,” Jace forces the words out before he can change his mind. “I’d say I liked it, but that seems like the wrong response from the guy who made you think you did something wrong.”

“Not everything is about you,” Simon argues, but the intent falls flat beneath the nervous tremor the words are spoken with.

“No,” Jace agrees easily. “But that song is.”

Simon hesitates, then sighs. “It is.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize for not liking me, Jace. You were doing your job, that’s-”

“No. I’m sorry I was going to leave without telling you that I like you. I thought I’d leave and you’d never see me again, that it’d be pointless to get attached. I thought you were just… being nice. Because you’re a good person.” The words spill out of Jace before he can overthink them.

“You like me,” Simon repeats incredulously. “That totally makes sense with, you know, the way you completely stopped talking to me.”

Jace can hear the anger in Simon’s voice and winces slightly. Just because it’s entirely deserved doesn’t make it easier to hear.

“I figured it’d be easier to walk away once this was all over if we weren’t as friendly.” It’s still a shitty thing to have done, and Jace wouldn’t blame Simon for holding it against him. But after hearing that song he couldn’t walk away with Simon thinking it was over anything he did wrong. No matter the cost to Jace’s pride, Simon deserves that much. “And… maybe I was a little afraid that if I got much closer I’d want to cross a line I knew I couldn’t.”

“So you felt it too?” Simon’s words and expression are full of so much hope that Jace almost panics again. What if he isn’t half the person Simon thinks he is after getting to know him in this little bubble of theirs from the past few months? What if he messes this up?

...what if he doesn’t?

“I did,” Jace finally admits. “I still do. And I know I probably ruined any chance I had before, but if I haven’t fucked things up too badly, maybe once you’re back in New York we could meet up for coffee?”

Simon smiles, brighter than the house lights that fill the small venue now.

“Or… or you could stay with me for the last few shows? I wasn’t just being nice for the sake of being nice - I like you, Jace. I changed my hotel routine for you! I wouldn’t do that for just anyone. I don’t know if you have to go back right away for work, or something, but if you don’t I definitely wouldn’t mind the company. Your company.”

Jace considers it for a few long moments, then nods. It’s fitting, he thinks, to drop the formalities and the professional distance in the same setting he started to fall for Simon in. The same setting in which Simon started to fall for him, despite Jace’s best efforts to dissuade him, only this time with no excuses to hold him back. And if Simon’s willing to give him an actual shot after everything, he’d be a fool not to take it.

“Well, I can’t very well leave you to lug all your equipment around by yourself, can I?” Jace says, smiling. “Let me check back in with the office tomorrow morning but I don’t have anything scheduled. It shouldn’t be an issue.”

There’s a pause then, the air between them filled with an almost electric buzz of anticipation. Simon takes the first step closer, bridging the gap between them. There’s no questioning what Simon’s thinking when his eyes dart down to Jace’s lips and back up to meet his gaze again before speaking.

“Can I-”

Before Simon can finish, Jace’s lips are already on his in response. It’s slow and tentative, with each of them feeling the other out, but it’s nice. It’s really nice. When they pull away after a few moments Simon can’t keep the smile off his face. “That was even better than I imagined.”

Jace quirks an eyebrow, smirking fully now. “You imagined us kissing?”

“Shut up and help me load the van.”

The familiar banter and Simon’s easy smile are such an immediate comfort for Jace that he can’t help the light laugh he gives in response. As Simon looks back at Jace it’s with an expression so soft and full of kindness that Jace knows now isn’t the same look he reserves for everyone else.

Jace knows it’s a look reserved only for him this time - and with any luck, for many more times to come.

[themoonsings]

hi y’all! my name’s blue and this is my good sis luna! you can find some info on her below! 

luna song was spotted in the fashion district adorning red bottoms , with some airpod pros on . they’re most likely listening to love me 4 me by rina sawayama . you may know them as @lunasong or as that rosé lookalike . their twenty-third birthday just passed . while living in tribeca , they’ve gained a bit of a reputation . they’re known to be ruthless but on the other hand captivating . wonder if they’ll be the next person to hit the headlines . [ ciswoman / she/her + blue / 24 / she/her ]

she’s 2nd gen & gave her parents gave her a korean name mainly to appease their parents and one in english. her korean name is ae-cha while her english name is luna. pretty much everyone calls/has always called her luna except her grandparents and sometimes her fanbase in korea.

she grew up in one of the boroughs and her family was middle class.

grew up knowing/speaking korean and english.

she had three best friends growing up, and they did practically everything together. they were in their tweens when luna got the idea that they should start a girl group, like so many that they always listened and looked up to and her friends readily agreed. 

they were still young so people didn’t take them seriously at first, much to a 12-year-old luna’s chagrin. but they were actually pretty good. in the beginning they didn’t know how to read sheet music super well yet and mostly did covers so luna would help with figuring out which parts each of them would sing and scheduling rehearsals, even pestering classmates into getting them gigs. (sidenote: luna’s group/bandmates are a wanted connection and on the main if you wanna know a little bit more you can click here! I’d love to have some/all of her groupmate spots filled!)

her parents were always super supportive of the group and were driving them to competitions, auditions, etc. luna was driven and annoying as hell in the way she pestered all these grown ass adults and even recording labels into trying to hear them/let them in to no avail. 

it wasnt until luna was 16 (about seven years ago) that they were able to actually get signed to a record label. at first no one took them seriously and no one wanted to sign them because people insisted that girl groups didn’t do well, didn’t last long, that people didn’t like them, etc. and there was a lot of back and forth over creative differences, as by that point the girls wrote their own music. 

BUT, their debut album actually did surprisingly well and better than even their management expected. soon they were having their music videos features on disney channel tv breaks, playing on the radio, getting lots of views on youtube. they were everywhere and people seemed to like the “realness” of their story--it made for good interviews and whatnot. 

they continued on like that, dropping three more albums which broke records, lead to worldwide tours, won grammys, lead them to several tv cameos, and even their own movie (think spice world but like better/funner plot, although still not super serious cinema) and documentary. they’re absolutely HUGE now, think peak destiny’s child type shit. they had their own reality tv show at one point, perfume, and even a make-up line with different shades and colors to match each girl’s “personality”. 

the aspects of their personality were played up a little bit to make them more marketable, i.e. one was the more “sporty” one, one was more “free-spirited”, etc. and how they’re styled usually reflects that, although now that they’re pretty established and older, they’ve been able to kind of be less characterized and more themselves. 

luna’s personality was always kind of the diva/primadonna meets relatable girl next door type role. basically she was just always dressed usually very hyper-feminine and has always publicly been considered/seen as kind of the “leader” of the group. 

that doesn’t come from nowhere because she’s very driven. she’s work hard play hard but you gotta tear her away from her email account enough for her to play hard. she’s nice and friendly but can be kind of intense. her biggest fear is not growing into her full potential. 

she knows how to play basic guitar and piano but her two main talents are her singing and ability to harmonize and understand different parts of music and her lyricism. 

can definitely be a drama queen at times. 

very adamant about using her platform to speak up for things when she can. her and her group faced a lot of hardships and discrimination within the industry because they were made up of a group of young women of color and she wants to make it easier for others to achieve their dreams, even if they weren’t born famous or rich. 

can definitely be judgement and bossy at times but will also 100% be there for you and supportive of you when you need her. 

she’s bisexual but the media hasn’t really caught wind of that yet. in the past, her management was adamant that she hide it but now it’s a thing where even if she is spotted with a girl, it’s very “just gals being pals” type headlines that usually come from it. 

she’s smart about her image and pretty much everything she does can make headlines. she’s usually pretty good about keeping her shit in line. she’s had advantageous relationships, both for pr and forreal and she’s something of a trendsetter in a lot of cases. luna dates someone and they’re hollywoods hottest couple, luna wears something and suddenly everyone on instagram is wearing it too. 

does a lot of philanthropy and likes to travel whenever she can. 

she’s friendly and open but don’t piss her off or stand in her way or be on some bs ‘cause she’s helped her and her girls fight their way to the top and she can be ruthless to her enemies, though only when she absolutely has to be. she probably has a little too much fight in her for her own good. 

constantly rumors of her going solo. her and her bandmates have an understanding where they’re chill with doing some individual work (i.e. releasing a single, doing a movie or tv show, starting their own fashion line, etc.) because they know the group’s more important and they’re always coming back to it but luna lately has been kind of worried they’re going to split up and she doesn’t want them to because they’re basically like sisters to her at this point since they grew up together. 

admittedly, luna does want to release her own solo album and she has been brought other projects but the group comes first and they’re working on their fifth studio album together. 

can probably find her working late or running off in the middle of something because she suddenly gets an idea. she also carries this cute lil notebook around with her for jotting down ideas and yes she could technically use her phone but she likes the tangibility of physically writing stuff down.

she always grew up in a house that was very much a home--always open to other people and her parents always willing to bring in food and entertain for the holidays, etc. and that’s how she likes her place now. she’s made her house just how she likes it and the door’s always open if you need someplace to crash for the night and no matter the hour, she’ll put the kettle on, whip up or order some food, and get the guest room ready. 

that’s luna! i’m working on a connections/wanted connections page now but in the meantime, my messages are open to plot or if you like this i can come to u!

[illneverrecover]

is that so? (M) | jwy

➛pairing: Jung Wooyoung x Reader ➛genre: non idol!AU, established relationship, fluff, smut ➛word count: 5,094 ➛rating: M ➛warnings: oral sex (female receiving), food play if you squint?, marking, biting, slight roughness, praise, anal play (female receiving), butt plugs, unprotected sex, wooyoung being a loud sweet man. ➛summary: You’ve had a rough few days - hell, weeks - at work, and your new boyfriend Wooyoung knows just how to show you how much you’re appreciated.  ➛notes: EEEE, My first Ateez fic! I’ve been following Ateez since debut and fell completely in love with them, so I was excited when one of my fave clowns ladies, @thiccasswonhoruinedmylife​ commissioned me to write a Wooyoung piece. She requested something with Wooyoung cooking for an anniversary present with smut and fluff, which fits him perfectly tbh. Love you Bri, I hope you enjoy! 🖤 ➛song: Try/Effortless - DVSN  & Say My Name - Ateez 

Fuck, you’re tired. 

You’re always tired.

You can’t remember the last time you didn’t feel exhausted, where you felt well rested by the time your alarm went off at the crack of 5 am. Work was draining you to the dregs, long hours with even longer meetings (that could have been EASILY summed up in an email) and copious hours spent hand holding grown men on how to do their jobs (but getting paid infinitely less than them.) They take their toll, and now you dread going - hell, even looking at the building could kill your mood.

The only saving grace was your amazing boyfriend.

You hadn’t been dating too long, about two months, but it was one of those things where you had an instant connection, the click of two puzzle pieces fitting just right. It had been at one of your friends house parties (the ones you normally skip due to wanting to catch up on sleep) but this time she had insisted you come, adamant that you met her boyfriend’s friend who had recently moved back into town. You had brushed her off; knowing her for as long as you had, there was a solid chance that whomever her and her long time beau, Seonghwa, were trying to set you up with was either not your type, a fuckboy, or a combination of both. 

However, she had badgered you enough that you agreed to go, if only to get her off your back for the next few soirees (and to get her to lay off the dramatic gifs she had been spamming you with). Running late from work, you showed up in your business casual a few hours after it had started, the place eerily quiet as you could see silhouettes of guests mingling on the back porch. Taking advantage of not being noticed quite yet, you had decided to make yourself a strong glass of liquid courage before facing her and whatever fuckery was afoot for the evening.

You had just reached into the back of the fridge for the bottle of strawberry soju you knew was waiting for you when a voice had you jumping. 

“Anything good in there?”

Whirring around, you had found a blonde man eyeing you, hair swept off his forehead to show off his glistening skin. Your eyes dropped to his mouth, his plush coral lips curved up into a sly smirk as he leaned his forearms down against the counter. 

“Yes, as a matter of fact,” you swallowed, raising a brow at the stranger. “I know Red always keeps a bottle of strawberry soju in her fridge for little old me, hidden in the back so Seonghwa doesn’t steal it.” You had popped open the lid, choosing to chug straight from the bottle instead of fussing with a glass. “I promise I’m not just rummaging through there.”

He had laughed then, his voice pitching higher than you had expected, and it had made you smile. 

. He held his hands up in a surrender, palms out, a toothy grin on his face. “Hey, no judgment. I was about to do the same - but for food. Seongie is out there trying to grill but he’s such a perfectionist it’s taking forever, even Red is threatening to call for take out.” 

Chuckling, you shook  your head. “Sounds about right. I’m Y/N, by the way,” 

Holding out a hand, you had waited until he placed his palm in your own, giving it a firm nod.

“I’m Wooyoung, Seongie’s friend. I just moved back into town.” 

Ah, so he was the mysterious unofficial blind date.

You had eyed him then, fully taking him in from head to toe, assessing him as if you’d be able to tell his character from undressing him in your mind. He had been wearing some kind of dark button down, the top buttons open to bare some of his tanned chest, a jean jacket thrown over top to keep it casual. A few black chokers circled his neck, emphasizing the muscles there, matching the wash of his inky skinny jeans that were so tight you weren’t totally convinced that they hadn’t been painted on. 

His eyes had widened at your appraisal, but he hadn’t spoken a word, instead giving you another smirk while waiting for you to comment.

“It’s nice to meet you, Wooyoung.”

And it really was. From that point on, you two had been inseparable, even once rejoining the official party. Staying hip to hip, you talked about anything and everything, from the most mundane to the downright unexpected (you don’t think you have ever seen a grown man discuss Harry Potter with such wonder in his eyes), and you found yourself not wanting to go home, even as everyone else cleared out.  It was only natural to accept his invitation to continue your evening, to  be squeezed into a 24 hour diner booth discussing movies until the bleary hours of early morning over a plate of french fries. You just didn’t want the moment to be over, for the night to end, for the spell to dissipate. 

Luckily, you had both been on the same page.

Fate had taken its course from there, and there wasn’t a day that passed that you and Wooyoung didn’t see each other, even if it was just over FaceTime as you warmed up leftovers after work. He was so attentive, so sweet, so funny, bringing back a spark into your life that you hadn’t even been aware of that was missing. 

Maybe you had moved a little fast in the perception of others, but to you, it had just felt instinctive to exchange love declarations after the third week, to swap apartment keys sometime during the fifth. 

Unfortunately, your work schedule has been relentless, your days still painfully long and showing no signs of stopping. Wooyoung is understanding, always offering to run your errands for you and asking how he can help make your life easier. Even when he can’t help, when the load gets too heavy to bear - he holds you, lets you rage cry out your frustration, rubs soothing circles into your back until you feel a weight lifted once more. “I’d do anything to see your smile, Jagiya,” he’d tell you with a wide grin, light in his eyes.

And he went out of his way to make that promise come true as often as possible, from little notes left on your door when you come home at night, to silly dance moves in your kitchen as a Britney Spears song blares from your Bluetooth speaker. He even made sure to make your one month anniversary special by having  your favorite flowers waiting for you when you got home, your bedroom turned into the vision of comfort with blankets and pillows and a large bowl of popcorn, perfect for a movie marathon.

He was truly the perfect man, the reason you got out of bed in the morning, the inspiration to fight through the longest of shifts - and  you were so thankful to have him, always hoping he could feel how much his love meant to you.

So it wasn’t a surprise when you came home to him cooking inside your apartment one Friday night after work. 

You had actually gotten off work at a decent time for once, feet crossing the threshold just as the clock showed it was a quarter after 5, and you had sighed heavily with relief when the smell of sauteed garlic hit your nose. Kicking off your heels, you wandered towards the kitchen, your heart skipping a beat when you saw your boyfriend standing at the stove. 

He has a bright red apron tied around his neck, a flash of words on the front though you couldn’t quite read them. Instead, you were too focused on the ingredients piled onto the counter, the slight flush in his cheeks from working over a hot stove. Candles were placed everywhere, setting the room into a soft glow, and there was a bottle of wine aerating next to twin glasses on the table, plates waiting to be filled. 

He spins when he hears you, grinning at the soft look on your face. “Hey, Jagi. How was work?”

You click your tongue. “Don’t ‘how was work’ me, what’s all this for? Are you trying to spoil me?”

He moves towards you then, giving you an eyeful of his “May I suggest the sausage?” apron, complete with an arrow pointing down to his crotch, making you snort. 

“First of all, how dare you. I’m always trying to spoil you.” Sliding his arms around your waist, you rest your face on his shoulder, melting into his touch. “Second of all,” he murmurs, lips pressed to your crown, “it’s our two month anniversary, so I thought I’d surprise you.”

“You are too good to me, Woo.”

Humming, Wooyoung sways, keeping you trapped in his arms for a beat longer before moving to plant a peck on your cheek. “No such thing as too good for you. Now, go sit down, rest, let me finish up. I’m just about finished.”

You do as ordered - moving to sit at the table, deciding to wait until after dinner to change, not wanting to take your eyes off of him. Instead you poured yourself a glass of wine, sipping it slowly as you watched him cook. It was endearing; seeing him work around the kitchen, brow furrowed in concentration when he would double check the recipe on his phone screen, tongue poking out the side of his mouth when he measured out a spice. He seemed to be taking it so seriously, making sure each step was perfect before moving to the next, which in comparison to the mess he was leaving in his wake, is amusing.

For what he lacked in skill, he makes up in confidence, wielding the knife with ease as he made the final slices to the meat, tossing them in a pan to saute. With a final stir, he adds them to the pot, gathering the sides with oven mit clad hands before sitting it down on the table.

A quick glance told you it was some kind of ramen, noodles and vegetables simmering in an aromatic liquid, steak lined on the top with some hard boiled eggs nestled next to it. Moving to the fridge, he grabs a few more bowls and side plates wrapped in plastic, bringing them to join the other dishes.

“I thought we could have my world famous ramen for dinner tonight,” he explains, tearing the plastic off to reveal the side entrees. “It’s a bit of a mashup of Korean kimchi ramen, but I also wanted you to have options on what to add to yours.” 

He seems nervous, vibrating with untapped energy. Smiling, you reach out and squeeze his hand. “It’s perfect, seriously. Thank you, Wooyoung.” 

Like a true gentleman, he fixes your initial bowl, walking you through all the side entree options and flavors, giving suggestions based on your preferences. Only once you are settled does he prepare his, grinning like a madman when he finally takes a seat. 

Instead of tearing into the food like you expected, he stares at you, eyes dancing with mischief. Your hand hovers over the bowl, spoon suspended half way between your food and your mouth, and you raise a brow at him. “What?”

“Nothing! It’s nothing.” he leans back, placing both hands behind his head. “I just want to see the look on your face when you taste it, is all.”

“And why is that? Is there secretly an entire ball of wasabi in here or something?”

He giggles, head shaking. “No!” he protests, voice echoing off the walls. “No, I would never! How dare you!” you join his laughter, despite your spoon still being frozen, waiting for him to continue. “I just want to see your face when you taste the excellence and decadence that is Jung Wooyoung’s cooking.”

“Is that so?” you purr, cheeks starting to hurt from all the smiling you were doing. You couldn’t help it, he was just so cute. 

Nodding, he slides his hands under his chin, propping his face up to look at you. “Yes, it is. Some would even liken it to a religious experience. Please,” he gestures a hand out, waving it. “Humor me.”

Without dropping his eyeline, you bring the spoon to your mouth, pursing your lips to blow a puff of air onto it before it reaches your tongue. It was the perfect blend of flavor and kick, the kimchi adding a satisfying crunch. 

“So?” he prompts, practically bouncing in his seat. “What do you think?”

“I think this might be the best thing I’ve ever put into my mouth,” you sigh, already scooping your next bite. 

He shouts victoriously, throwing his arms in the air. “Yes! I knew you would love it! You aren’t just saying that, are you?”

Swallowing the warm liquid, you lean forward then, grabbing his arm to leverage yourself as you plant a wet kiss to his cheek. “I’m not just saying it, Woo. It’s delicious, thank you so  much for making it for me.”

His eyes crease as a wide grin takes over his face, adoration shining and mirrored within your own gaze. “Of course, Y/N. I’m glad you like it.”

The rest of the meal is shared over tales of your days, you filling him in on all the craziness of the office, while he tells you about the appointments he had and how his dance class went. It was always relieving, to come home at the end of the day and have someone to lament to, to share your life with, especially when they were so willing to do the same, and there isn’t a moment of silence as you and your boyfriend finish your dinner together.

You move to stand and clear the table, reaching for his bowl when he smacks your hand. “Absolutely not, Jagi. I am here to spoil you, and that includes cooking AND the cleaning. Sit back down.”

Giving him your best glare, you try to protest, but he isn’t having it, swift hands pushing you back into your seat as he grabs your bowl and heads to the sink. “Plus, who said the meal was over yet?” he calls over his shoulder, placing the bowls down.

“Oh yeah?” you chuckle, crossing your arms. “What else do you got for me?”

His expression changes then; previous playfulness melting away and leaving an edge to his smirk, a darkness to eyes. “Well, dessert, of course.” 

You continue to eye him as he moves to the fridge, pulling out a domed container before walking it back to the table. Placing it in front of you, he removes the top with a flourish, kneeling down to your seated height. “I made your favorite,” he husks, voice low. “Peanut Butter Chocolate cheesecake.”

The cheesecake itself was beautiful; he had attempted to decorate it with some chocolate syrup and crushed Reeses, and the evident effort softens you once more. “It looks amazing!” you gush, looking to meet his gaze. “You really have gone all out, haven’t you?”

Instead of answering, he serves you a piece on a small plate, handing you a fresh fork. Grinning, you immediately cut into it, shoving a bite into your mouth inelegantly. Closing your eyes, you let out a groan at the richness of the flavor, chewing slowly to savor it. It really was delectable - the cheesecake a perfect dense yet fluffy texture, peanut butter swirling with the chocolate in harmony.

You were so lost in thought you didn’t pay attention to where Wooyoung had gone; why the room had fallen so silent as you revered your treat. You move to cut another slice off your serving, placing the fork between your teeth when you feel a palm slide up your thigh.

“W-Woo?” snapping your eyes open, you look to the side, expecting your boyfriend to still be kneeling there, but coming up empty.

Peering down, you instead see him crouched between your legs, wicked devilry glittering in his gaze. He slides both hands up your bare thighs, fingers tracing patterns right above the seam of your skirt. 

Before you can say a word, he grips your legs and bows them out, making more room for his body, his mouth dipping to press a wet kiss to the flesh above your knee. 

“You had such a long day. You work so hard, you’re always working so hard, Y/N. I thought it would be a nice little treat if while you enjoyed your dessert, I could also enjoy mine?” his voice was honeyed with molten lust, but it was still a question - still seeking your comfort. 

Groaning, you lick your lips, breath hitching at his touch. “Of course you can,” you rasp, eyes closing once more when you feel his fingers caressing closer and closer to your core.

Dropping your fork, the cheesecake is all but forgotten when Wooyoung continues to trail his lips up your inner thighs, digits reaching for the now dewy panties at the apex, sliding them off your legs. Hand fumbling, you move to work at the side zipper of your skirt, wanting to give him more access, when thick fingers circle your wrist.

“No, Jagi. I want you to leave it on,” he murmurs, hands now moving to bunch your skirt up around your waist. “Like this, you’re so perfect like this.”

Whining, you rake your fingers through his blonde hair, tugging gently at the roots in a silent plea to have him move closer. Chuckling, he acquiesces, pupils wide as he takes in the sight of your dripping cunt. 

He hovers for a moment, hot breath fanning over your sensitive flesh, and just before you could beg he drops his mouth to your center. Tongue flicking out, he swirls it around your already engorged clit, tracing the lines of your labia down and back at an unhurried pace, tasting you. Repeating the movements, he groans against you, lips sliding to suckle at your bundle of nerves until your thighs were shaking against him.

He coos praise at you in between long licks against your core, his finger dipping into your wetness briefly before being pressed inside of you. “You taste so sweet, feel so good, Jagi,”

 Crying out at the sensation, your hand pulls at his hair once more, wanting the friction, wanting him deeper.  He gives in for a moment, tongue rolling against your clit, pulling it between his lips and suckling harshly. You feel your high building rapidly, tension rolling from your bones to deep in your gut, threatening to snap at any moment.

Instead of hurtling you over the edge, he pulls back with a moan, resting his head against the cushion of your thigh. He watches his finger disappear inside you one last time before pulling it out, immediately popping it into his mouth.

Wooyoung looks up at you then, lips shiny with your arousal and eyes blackened with need. “I thought I’d have the patience to finish you off like this, but I don’t. I want to be inside you, now.”

Before you can even finish nodding your head in agreement, you're pulling him to you, cupping his face and pressing your mouth onto his. The kiss is hungry, desperate, dripping in passion, his tongue sliding against yours so deliciously that you feel like you’re drowning in him.

He pulls away enough to trail small kisses down your jaw line, your pulse, until he laves the tender skin at the base of your throat, making you whine. As he sucks and bites his claim onto your neck, you feel his arms grab your legs, guiding you to lock them around his waist before he’s shifting you up into his hold.

The low growls he makes while working over your throat have you distracted, arms coming to brace yourself around his neck as he carries you towards the bedroom. You’re gasping into his mouth when he spins to push you against the wall, pinning you in place under the lithe lines of his body. Throwing your head back, your fingers come to tangle in the hair at the base of his skull, hips grinding against him.

“Fuck, Wooyoung,” you pant as he alters his attack to the other side of your clavicle, insistent on leaving twin marks to claim you. His anguished desire excites you, has you clenching around nothing when he returns to peck at your lips. 

He ruts up against you, and for a moment you think he’ll take you right here against your bedroom wall - not that you would mind - but then he slows his hips, releasing his tight grip on your legs as he pulls you towards the bed. 

It's there that he undresses you completely, kissing each inch of bare skin as it’s revealed to him, murmuring words of love  until you are naked and flushing before him. Sitting up on his knees, he quickly joins you - pulling his shirt off and throwing it haphazardly, kicking off his jeans and boxer briefs. 

He stares at you reverently, eyes and hands always roaming the lines of your form. “I have another surprise for you tonight, if you’re up to it,” he husks, lips quirking into a grin.

“Is that so?” you repeat your words from earlier, unable to stop yourself. He chuckles lowly, leaning over you to open the drawer on the bedside table where typically you house your small collection of sex toys. You follow the movement, curious to see what would grab, but your eyes widen when you see him holding something you weren’t familiar with.

It was stainless steel, bulbed at one end before tapering out and flaring into a large circle at the base. The base had a beautiful violet jewel in it that twinkled when the light hit; a small bottle of lubricant nestled beside it in his large palm.

He had bought you a butt plug.

Seeing your expression, Wooyoung chuckles nervously, dropping the items onto the bed in order to hover over you. “I know we’ve discussed trying this in the past, and just thought that after the time we used my fingers, that this might be a good next step…” he trails off, eyes imploring yours. “However, if you don’t want to or don’t feel comfortable, that’s perfectly fine, Jagi. I don’t want to pressure you at all.”

Excitement tore through your nerves, your body lighting up at the idea of doing this with him. He was so thoughtful, so sweet, and you knew in that moment that you trusted him explicitly. 

“I want to,” you purr, leaning up to bite at his collarbone. “I want to try this, with you…”

His face illuminates with a smile as he moves to sit up on his knees once more, grabbing the plug. “I want to try this with you too.”

Ignoring the lube for now, he closes the plug in his fist as he moves to lay down between your legs. For a while, he just kisses you everywhere, lets his fingers drag through the slick of your slit, gently rubbing at your nub until you are panting and relaxing against his touch. When your eyes start to close, he grabs for the bottle of lubricant, squeezing a generous amount onto the plug before doing the same against your tight ring of muscles.

Jumping at the sensation of cool gel against heated skin, you take a deep breath, letting yourself get lost in the sensations he was providing you. A thumb was still rolling your clit, while another finger was gently massaging the puckered skin of your ass. Your body felt like wildfire, molten and burning too hot, and yet all you wanted was more. 

“I-I think I’m ready, Woo, please,” you whine, hands fisting in the sheets. “Please put it in.”

He groans, fingers stuttering at the wanton sound of your cries. He wanted to drag this out, to tease you until you were blubbering and begging, but between his throbbing cock and your sinful noises, he didn’t think he could wait any more. 

Slowly, he starts to push the bulbous end of the plug against you, thumb of his free hand still working against your bundle of nerves. You tense when you feel some pressure, but Wooyoung is there to talk you through it, guiding you to breathe and relax as he takes care of you, edging the plug in. 

You sense when it’s pushed in to the hilt, the jeweled edge nestled against your rim, and you sigh in relief at the pleasant buzz of the stretch.

Wooyoung slides to sit up on his knees, a hand coming to smooth circles on the flesh of your inner thigh, while the other palms at his hardened length. 

“How does it feel, Jagi? You feel okay?” he breathes, slotting himself between your legs and closer to your center. 

You nod, reaching out to grasp at his hips. “I feel so good, baby,” you praise, guiding him until his cock was dragging against your dripping cunt. “Now I just need you inside of me too, please,”

He hisses at your words, pressing the thick head of his length until it was slipping inside the welcoming heat of your walls, slowly moving to bury himself deep inside of you.

The fullness was overwhelming, delicious, his pelvis resting flush against your own. His brow was furrowed, mouth agape in a silent moan as he started to swivel his hips.

“F-Fuck,” you groan, nails dragging down the skin at his sides as he began to pump in and out of you, slowly at first, as if he wanted to make sure you were feeling every inch of him against your engorged walls. The plug was the perfect size to enhance each movement, the dual sensations making you mewl. 

“Does it feel good?” he husks, voice impossibly deep as his thrusts increase. “Does Jagi like being so full of me? Likes having that little plug in her ass?”

Whining at his words, you chew at your lip, hands reaching out to tug him closer to your mouth. “Yes, I do, Wooyoung. Just for you, all for you.”

He growls then, hips moving at a punishing pace, basking in your sweet cries of his name, wanting to make sure you were fully wrecked and falling apart for him. He could feel you squeezing against him, so impossibly tight, and knew you were close to unraveling. 

Dropping his lips to yours, he licked into your mouth, swallowing your moans as he slid a hand between your bodies to rub at your apex once more.

You broke the kiss to sob, head thrown back against the mattress. “Fuck, I’m gonna come, baby,” your orgasm so close you felt your cunt pulsating, your vision going white. After a few more pumps of his cock and probing circles of your clit, you finally come undone, walls constricting as electricity shoots through your veins, gasps tearing from your throat.

Wooyoung doesn’t last much longer, burying his face in your neck as he finally releases deep inside you with staccato thrusts, only stopping when he was sure every drop was nestled into your tender core.

Catching your breath, you lay for a few soundless moments, fingers tracing patterns on his back while he steadily came down from his high. When he finally moves to get cleaned up, he insists you stay put - instead bringing a wet washcloth and removing the plug for you, wiping you clean.

“Happy Anniversary,” he quips, slapping playfully at your ass, and you can’t help but laugh along, rolling your eyes at him.

After a quick trip to the bathroom you’re back in bed - and his arms - snuggled against his chest, eyes closed in contentment. Wooyoung is so tender, asking every few moments how you felt, if you needed anything. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were luckier than you ever thought was possible, and you told him so.

“What do you mean, Y/N? I’m the lucky one here. You are so beautiful and smart and successful, and you let me be in your life, let me support you. It’s all I could ever want.” he murmurs, eyes intense as he presses a kiss to your nose. “Plus, you laugh at all my jokes, eat my cooking, and are willing to try new things in the bedroom. You’re basically my dream girl.”

You laugh then, slapping at his arm. “Well, that’s good to know, and right back atcha.”

“What? I’m your dream girl?”

Giggling, you snuggle closer to his chest once more. “Yes. You’re my dream girl and I’m so glad I get to be in your life.” Leaning up, you meet his eyes. “I love you, Wooyoung.” 

The responding smile is so bright you think it may blind you, but his joy was infectious as he whoops loudly. “I love you too, Y/N. So much.”

For a moment, there was nothing but peaceful calm, twin hearts beating rapidly as you let him lead you in a chaste kiss, pulling away to rest your forehead against his own.

“Even if your dirty talk could use some work, I love you and I’m still glad to be here-”

“HEY!” he yells, pushing back to look at you, face incredulous. “What do you mean my dirty talk could use some work?! My dirty talk is perfect!”

You shrug, a sly smirk on your face. “Is that so?”

Scoffing, he tries to slide out of your grasp, pout heavy on his lips. “Yes, that is so! What, was I supposed to call you ‘my greedy little ass slut’ right out of the gate? I mean, I knew you were a freak, Jagi, but I was trying to be a gentleman.”

Choking back your laughter, you lock your arms around him, bringing him back against you until you are spooning him tightly, cooing apologies in his ear. It took several minutes of cuddles and reassurance before he would turn to look at you again, his gaze still hard.

Grinning, you cup his face, your finger resting against the plush fullness of his lower lip. “Oh yeah? And what if I don’t want you to be a gentleman?” 

“Then I guess we’ll have to go for round two.” he growls, before claiming your lips once more.

[ashketchup119]

Musicality

Ok I LOVE this story!! I made a whole story based off a lil convo @jemtoka and I had, and I made oc’s based off each of us and went to town. It was very fun to write, and I got to combine my music knowledge with my writing skills.

Enjoy!

When Benji had first set out to find the ghost of Beethoven, he wasn’t actually sure that he’d be able to do it. His brother had once called him “all bite and no bark”, a reference to the fact that out of the four brothers, Benji had been the only one to not outgrow his infant habit of biting things- or people- when stressed. But in this situation, he definitely felt like he’d bitten off more than he could chew.

He absentmindedly chewed on his chewing necklace as he drafted a grant proposal with his friend, Mujika. Muji was drawing in a notebook, something for his art classes, though he looked up when prompted to review the words that had appeared on Benji’s screen. Muji had done his fair share of research, and though he did want to help with the writing of the research paper, it had been agreed that Benji was the more… academic writer. The two of them had met through social media a couple of years ago, and once they’d started direct messaging, had become close friends quickly through a mesh of shared interests, similar humor, and a half-baked scheme to take over the world.

Which led them here, to a table in the back of a 24-hour McDonalds, Benji chewing the head off a stiff chewable bat pendant and Muji using his nocturnal tendencies to do things like “make sure his friend drank water and didn’t forget that he was a person.”

“Fo you fink ish bit avou duh Immoruhl Bewuved ith done? Ish kinda duh hoh vashis of arr puhposal so…” Benji trailed off, jaw absentmindedly moving over the poor bat, whose head was holding on by sheer force of will to the rest of its body.

“What?” Muji asked. He did not speak bat-in-mouth.

Benji pulled the pendant out of his mouth with an audible pop. “Y’think this bit about the Immortal Beloved is finished? It’s like, the whole basis of our proposal n shit.”

He turned the laptop towards Muji, who closed his notebook, set it to the side, and pulled the laptop in front of him. He read it quietly, and Benji began to tap out the beat to the song playing on low volume in his earbuds. He began to hum, too, murmuring lyrics under his breath as he stared off into the distance.

“I think it looks good.” Muji finally replied, turning the laptop back toward Benji and grabbing his notebook again. “I can’t think of anything else we could add to that section.”

Benji gave a little half shrug. “I guess you’re right.”

The two of them once again worked in solitude, only broken by Benji ordering fries at about 1 AM. At 3, they decided to call it quits, though Benji seemed more wired than ever and voiced some apprehension about “going to sleep when there’s so much work to be done, Muji!” Muji chastised him slightly and promised that they could come back the next day- or rather, later that day- to finish up. There were only slight revisions to be done, then it could be sent off to the Music Master Scholars, an organization dedicated to the care and keeping of the ghosts widely considered Music Masters, which included household names like Mozart and Beethoven, but also lesser-known composers like Joseph Bologne and Francesca Caccini.

Ghosts were, of course, a commonplace occurrence, though one could theoretically live their life without interacting with one. That was rare, though; ghosts had a tendency to wander, though they could only appear in places that held significance to them in life and graveyards, but even living in a house increased the average person’s chances of encountering a ghost exponentially.

But these ghosts were special, because of the knowledge they possessed and the lives they’d lead. The Music Master Scholars were the only people in the world who both knew and had access to the location of every ghost, and to join their ranks, one had to find the location of one of the ‘hidden’ Music Masters- of which Beethoven was the most hidden. Their non-administrative members were unknown, but said to be most, if not all, of the foremost music scholars in the world. How could they not be, with the Masters themselves guiding their research?

Benji and Muji really, really wanted to be Music Master Scholars.

When he was 10, Benji had been given some sort of “young musician” scholarship to visit Europe for a month. He was a double bassist, a dying breed in the modern age, and the fact that he had progressed from monotonic exercises to Baroque sinfonias in the span of four months had impressed his teachers.

His parents had gone along, too, mostly because they knew their child, and Benji did have a propensity to get into trouble. Devil’s luck, his mother had tsked, and that had been that.

He’d managed to escape the group in the middle of a museum, though he didn’t wander far. He just wanted to look at everything without feeling like people were constantly breathing down his neck.

Well. HE didn’t consider “the park near the museum” to be far. His parents did, though, he found out later.

At the park, he found a man. Well, not a man. A ghost. The ghost was staring wistfully at the museum in the distance, and started when he noticed a small child staring at him.

“Hi! Who are you?” Benji asked, clutching the stuffed animal his parents had gotten him at another museum the day before.

The ghost cleared his throat. “I’m uh…” He started in a raspy voice before pausing and clearing his throat again. “I’m,” He sighed. “I’m Johannes Brahms.”

“Yo-hahn Brahmzzzz.” Benji repeated, drawing out the last “s” sound. “Oh! You did music, right?”

Brahms smiled slightly, and nodded.

The two of them talked for a while before Benji’s parents arrived, harried and frustrated. They apologized profusely to the ghost, who insisted it hadn’t been a problem.

The whole experience left Benji starry-eyed, and with the help of a friend he’d made in Germany, he would call and converse with Brahms for hours, asking about counterpoint and meaning and technique and just in general picking his mind. The composer took this with grace, and seemed more than happy to answer the young musician’s questions. When he’d told Benji about the Scholars, Benji had immediately decided that he was going to be a Music Master Scholar.

Muji had played violin until he’d dropped out of high school to take care of his mom, and hadn’t resumed it until after him and Benji had been talking for a while. He didn’t know much about composition, but he loved music history, and after getting his GED and enrolling in college, had even majored in it. Plus, he just kinda just thought the whole thing was cool.

They’d been researching for a year and a half, with pointers from Brahms, and tips from a professor Benji’d had two years ago, a Classical scholar named Dr. Chang. Benji had once emailed her and asked, point-blank, if she was a Music Master Scholar, but she’d only sent back a cryptic winky face emoji in response.

The next day, after three more hours of sitting in McDonalds, revising the proposal (most of which was Muji saying “Benji it looks fine!” and Benji responding with “No, no, this comma in paragraph seven just makes it sound better! Ties it all together, don’t you think?”), it was sent off in an email, and Benji resolved not to think about it while Muji resolved to mention it at the most inopportune moments, just to mess with his friend a little.

They were approved a month later, and three months after that day at McDonalds, they were sitting on a plane heading to Austria, Benji mouthing practice phrases in German as Muji slept. They had about a month to traipse all over Europe in search of a ghost very few people had been able to find, and they were excited to start.

The first week was spent in Austria, visiting Beethoven’s own grave (a nonstarter; the ghosts there hadn’t seen Beethoven since he was buried, and none knew where he’d gone), his childhood home and the area surrounding.

Nothing.

The second week was spent in Vienna. There, they visited the ghost of Mozart, who was a fidgety, flighty sort. He was known for being somewhat immaterial, and often took to jumping on top of objects in a manner that caused the people around them to panic for a few seconds before realizing he was too immaterial to do anything more than whisper vaguely about his childhood. He’d tried to pet Muji’s hair and got annoyed when nothing happened, so it wasn’t a particularly long visit.

They tried to visit Haydn, but while the location of Haydn’s ghost was well-known, only Music Master Scholars were allowed to see him, as he claimed the crowds exhausted him, and he wanted to be able to give his full attention to those visiting him. It made sense, since ghosts used massive amounts of energy to communicate and interact with the world around them, and the more energy they expended, the less time they were able to spend on earth. Despite this, the two  of them did make an effort, but were summarily barred from entering.

“Next time!” Benji declared confidently as they walked to their next potential Beethoven hot spot.

They visited Brahms, who had resolved to meet them in Vienna upon learning they were coming, and spent a whole day with him, visiting locations which had been important to him and letting his impromptu history lessons wash over them with a look of awed reverence.

Beethoven wasn’t in Vienna, and by the third week the two friends were feeling the threat of rejection hot on their heels. They began keeping odd hours, trying their hardest to figure out their next move.

“Maybe we should reread our proposal? Clearly the Scholars saw something in it, right?” Muji theorized from the bed he’d claimed as his their first night in the hotel.

“Mmmm.” Benji responded from his position on the floor at the foot of his bed, still feeling the after-effects of a well-deserved mental breakdown.

“Come on, Benji!” Muji tried to motivate him. “We can do it! You’re a super cool music spy, remember?”

Benji huffed at the reminder of an old, inane conversation between the two. “I don’t know, Muji. I think it’s kinda pointless.”

“Come on, Benji!” Muji tried again. “This is like, your dream! It’s now or never! Put our mutual brain cell to use so we can find Beethoven!”

Benji sighed and got up. “Fine, fine.” He murmured as he got off the floor, grabbed his copy of the proposal from his bag, laid down on the bed, and stuffed another chewable pendant into his mouth. “Wet’s fee.”

Silence reigned for a few, brief seconds, before Muji suddenly exclaimed, “Hey! We never checked out anything about the Immortal Beloved, right?”

Benji sat up straight on his bed and spit out the pendant. “Holy shit, we never checked out anything about the Immortal Beloved.”

After a quick Google search, two train tickets, a couple of sandwiches, and a dash through the rain, they arrived at the Frankfurt Main Cemetery. There, they asked after the name they’d listed in their proposal as the possible Immortal Beloved, and the ghosts pointed them towards the back of the cemetery.

In a ghost grotto, they found a woman, calmly humming the tune from one of the Diabelli variations, though in their excitement neither Benji nor Muji could name the tune.

“Are you-“ Benji paused and took a couple of deep breaths. “Are you the Immortal Beloved?

The woman stopped humming and smiled at them.

“Ah, that is a moniker I have not heard in some time.” She arose and walked away from them, lifting her skirts elegantly in a manner which conveyed a sense of class. “Come; I think you are the ones I’ve been expecting.”

The two followed after her eagerly and looked confused when they stopped at a mail office in town. There, she reached into a P.O. box, pulled out a silver envelope, and gave it to Benji.

“This is yours.” She murmured. “Please do come to visit; it’s rare that I receive visitors.”

With this, she disappeared.

The two stared at the envelope for a couple of seconds before Benji eagerly opened it, accidentally ripping the envelope in half. He then read it, brow furrowing in confusion.

“What’s it say?” Asked Muji, eagerly, from over his shoulder.

“It says… it’s just numbers? I don’t get it.” Benji gave him the paper, trying to puzzle out what it meant.

Muji frowned, then plugged the numbers into Google.

“It’s a location!” He burst out, excitedly shoving the phone in Benji’s face.

The two of them hurriedly called a taxi, listing the location Muji’s phone had given them. They were dropped off in front of the building, and saw someone standing at the entrance. They showed the person (a Scholar!) their letter, and with a large smile, they were taken inside, their guide walking confidently as Benji and Muji trailed behind them. The interior of the building was long and winding, which left the two feeling as though they’d been deceived by the outward appearance of the building. The building had looked small and unassuming, and this place was built like a maze. They were sure they’d be lost if they tried to head back without a guide.

Near the end of the path they heard the sound of a piano playing, and warm light spilled into the hallway. They eagerly rushed ahead, much to the amusement of the Scholar.

There, facing the wall, conducting half a beat behind the sound coming from the recorder behind him, stood Beethoven.

Benji gasped, and clutched Muji’s shoulder. He pointed ecstatically at the figure in the room. “It’s Beethoven!!!” He stage-whispered.

Muji smiled widely as he nodded back. “Yeah!!”

The two of them turned around when a voice behind them cleared. The Scholar gave them each a thick letter with the recognized seal of the Music Master Scholars on the back, and the two of them stared at it, unsure of what to do.

“Well?” The Scholar prompted, rocking back and forth on their heels. “Aren’t you going to open it?”

Benji ripped into his envelope first, completely abandoning the flap as he tore the side off. His hands shook as he pulled out a letter on creamy white stationary. He skimmed the words and began crying, clutching the letter and envelope to his chest.

Muji was slightly more careful, removing the letter from the envelope via the flap and pulling out the other contents of the envelope. A laminated membership card, a list of locations of other ghosts, and an alphabetized list of other Scholars with contact info and a small bio were also in the envelope. He pulled out each one, looked at it, and put it back in the envelope. He then stopped and held the envelope in his hands, staring at it.

After about ten minutes, the guide worriedly asked Muji, “Is Benji alright? He’s been crying for a while.”

Muji nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah, he cried for like two hours after I finished streaming Crisis Core for him.” At the guide’s look of confusion, he added, “Video game.”

The guide made a small noise of understanding and nodded.

When Benji’s sobs finally faded into sniffles, the three of them began the trek out of the building.

“Sorry this route is so long.” The Scholar apologized. “Oh! Also! I forgot to introduce myself.” They paused and turned, offering their hand. “I’m Soraya Cham! I was the last person to find Beethoven’s ghost. When I heard about you guys, I got excited, really. I was rooting for you!”

The two of them shook her hand and nodded, unsure what else to say.

Soraya continued, then hailed a taxi when they reached the road. They waved goodbye to Benji and Muji as the two of them got in the backseat.

“We did it!” Benji shouted once they were back at their hotel.

[ssa-sapphic-inactive]

thank you for the tag @scandinavian-punk

rules: answer 30 questions and tag 20 blogs you are contractually obligated to know better (answers under cut)

tagging (no pressure): @ssa-santiago @dimitrescus-bitch @lanalikesnobanana @pagetsimp @temilys @moreidsdaughter @orbitluke @criminalmindsvibez @yipyipjemily @rxcklessly-bratty @sc4rletw1tch @lesbriens @jemilyology @vhsrights @drinkingcroissants @top-jj-rights @makaylajadewrites @romanoffprentiss @joodeduarte @ssa-badbitch [*i apologize if you were already tagged*]

1. name/nickname: harley (there’s not much nicknames for that tbh)

2. gender: female

3. star sign: capricorn (i’m not into astrology tho)

4. height: 5’5” or 5’6”

5. time: 2:55 am

6. birthday: jan 18

7. favorite bands: m83, pvris, twenty one pilots, the score, bts, nothing but thieves, arctic monkeys, the 1975, the neighbourhood,

8. favorite solo artists: harry styles, billie eilish, meg myers, tate mcrae, carlie hanson, bishop briggs, grandson, bohnes

9. song stuck in my head: golden by harry styles

10. last movie: ocean’s 8

11. last show: the 100

12. when did i make this blog: november, 2020

13. what i post: emily prentiss/criminal minds edits and fics etc.

14. last thing i googled: “what time does kung fu tea close?”

15. other blogs: @goodluckharley (photography, travel lust, lgbt+, occasionally nsfw 18+) @rail-me-romanoff (natasha/black widow/marvel)

16. do i get asks: mostly yes, but from the same few users, which is more than okay because i love them <3

17. why did i choose my url: emily prentiss is hot af in the red tank top, and she is a lesbian in my book so it’s also a little “girl in red” reference lol

18. following: 260

19. followers: redacted

20. average hours of sleep: 5-7 hours, depends on the day. sometimes less.

21. lucky number: i don’t have a lucky number but 14 is my fav for some reason idk

22. instruments: acoustic and electric guitar, clarinet (yes, i was a band kid lol), ukulele

23. what am i wearing rn: sports bra & sweatpants

24. dream trip: road trip across the 50 states, and travel through europe

25. favorite food: idk, i enjoy a lot. i do love me some good quality fries tho, like from the beach boardwalk. if you know, you know ;)

26. nationality: american

27. favorite song: idk lol

28. last book read: pillow thoughts by courtney peppernell

29. top three fictional universes: marvel, criminal minds, (i can’t think of a third rn lol)

30. fav color: yellow (although i love wearing white or army green)

[adhdvane]

Talking about GW/U&F Under the Cut because it’s gunna be a long ramble

S here’s my rankings (I want to save these and post them in this entry for myself, I want to better keep track of how much I do so I can keep a log of how much stupid effort I end up putting into this godda.mn event each time to see how my progress goes) Individual:

i’m like both proud and dead (ignore dark team, this was fire favored but final rally zeus is light, so kill him with dark team). i could solo nm 100 just fine, like much better than pervious events, including the last wind gw in June 2020 (which does tell me hey, you’ve improved a lot on your fire team in the past year), it’s just soloing nm 100 took like ~10 minutes and required me paying attention. by day 3 burn out was real (despite there being no 24 hours interlude this year because of server issues delaying prelims, lol let me tell you when i went to check the prelims on my break to find out oops sorry we’re delaying prelims a day bc ppl had issues last night when we started at 3 am your time, rip). nm 95, you see, that i could make a full auto team for and just summon the devil and skill cast a couple of the skills click attack and then full auto, and ignore the game for like 4 to 4:40 minutes. so while i did do some nm 100 runs, i mostly defaulted to nm 95 (on another note i could 1 turn nm 90 with my break/od team bandit tycoon/5* tien/summer bea/5* zeta and so during prelims and round 1 that felt really good). on the one hand it hurts that i ignore my main fire set ups for favor a full auto team (rb/sieg/heles/izmir) but like how else do i survive doing that many godda.mn raids without total burn out (and i mean the only difference is playing relic buster instead of lumberjack so no using my prized ullikummi and swapping tien out for heles bc tien is less full auto friendly bc you don’t want her buff skill activating before her damage. also i mean it was nice to let heles get exp so i got her to lv 100 during the event bc i’d leveled her to 95 prior. she has some good damage nukes, and her additional atk/def down stackable meant coverage when sieg or izmir’s didn’t land properly). besides i still got to use my main fire set up and ullikummi when i did the nm 100 runs (look i love my fire ullikummi + lumberjack i will never shut up about how good it is and how happy i was i went through with it originally for a harp memeing only to discover WOW ITS JUST REALLY GOOD FOR MAINHAND PERIOD EVEN WITHOUT HARP MEMEING GRID). sure running nm 95 was. technically not optimal in terms of time/meat/tokens/honors but it was fckin optimal for my SANITY.

crew (day 4 at top - day 1 at bottom):

first of all slkdfsjk can’t believe i actually stayed above top 30,000. WOW THAT IS DEFINITELY A FIRST. third slkdjgsldf 3 of 4 won, one day i’ll get 4 of 4. tbh surprised i managed to win the last one (THE ONE AT THE TOP) (i was... i was raiding from 3 pm - 4:40 am it was bad... i wanted to hit the 400mil individual mark for the reward bc i was close and like it would suck if i was only a little bit away)... it did feel good to actually win some though, i haven’t had victories in a while because despite the fact every gw i was definitely getting more honors than i had the previous one it was getting harder to solo shit when i’m against crews with multiple ppl participating. (HELL LAST GW, THE WATER BOSSES, WAS THE FIRST TIME I ACTUALLY MANAGED TO GET BACK INTO FCKING MAKING THE SOLO C TIER AFTER SEVERAL GW WHERE IT DIDN’T HAPPEN BECAUSE THERE WAS A BIG LEAP IN HOW MANY HONORS THAT 36,000 CREW HAD AT THE BOTTOM. also like lol at work so i can’t really start doing prelims until i get home bc i decided i wanted sleep in the morning)

other:

:) oh boy a single sunlightstone shard that’s going to sit there forever and never do anything bc how the fck am i ever going to do this 10 times. draw box fcking 50 is what i’m on. it takes 10k to empty. i would need 8k more tokens. i would get 100 tokens per extra zeus run.... im not doing 80 more zeus runs... i’ll .... just have to hit “toke draw 100 times” 21 times to use the rest of the tokens which is annoying. i guess. AND NOW WE COME TO THE REASON WHY I PUT SO MUCH GODDAMN EFFORT INTO THIS GW. gbf is a bastard man that wants me to 5* the rest of the eternals (5 of them) before i can transcend shisu to 140 ( ´•̥̥̥ω•̥̥̥` ) i hate it. so in order to get enough rev weapons to work on my next 5* i needed to 36 box for fif (i have 1 fully uncapped copy of her rev from when i was initially going to have to recruit her normally but then seeds of redemption happened in 2020 and i got her free + 50 five-star fragments, since i already had a fully uncapped copy i thought fine she’ll go next bc less weapons needed and also i have one of every other element 5* so i wanted to do her or song either way. plus maybe if i can 5* her i can actually go do that gilbert quest lol). i WOULD HAVE LOVED TO BOXED NW QUARTZ. I WOULD HAVE LOVED TO HAVE BOXED NW QUARTZ AFTER I 36 BOXED HER. BUT I KNEW IF I DID THAT, I WAS PROBABLY GOING TO INEVITABLE HIT BOX 46 BC OF THE RATE I WAS GOING AND IT WOULD FORCE ME BACK TO REV STAFFS AND I’D END UP WITH EXTRA COPIES WHEN I COULD HAVE BEEN STARTING THE NEXT SET I NEED. so instead of boxing the quartz i wanted after i switch to harps and IT sUCK. also depending on if i get the harp draw from the 2000 token i have left... i might continue zeus farm until i get it bc then at least i’ll have an even uncap on my harps (4 fully uncapped, bc i actually had a 1* harp in stash already.... bc those were FROM RANDOM DROPS I’D GOTTEN FROM GW IN THE PAST)

uhg anyways... this was like one of the first times in like a very long time that i didn’t fully burn out by day 3/4. i pushed through to the end like a godda.mn maniac. even in my early days i often just went lol im done on day 4... last gw i thought i was insane bc i got like ~158mil total honors (and EARTH IS LIKE ARGUABLY MY LEAST DEVELOPED). and this time i got over 400mil :) next one is going to be hell because my wind has be improved to 100% double tia crit and i have a my developed full auto team. oh fcking boy. 

[bananaofswifts]

IT’S A SUNDAY AFTERNOON in Tribeca, and I’m in Taylor Swift’s loft, inside a former printing house that she has restored and fortified into a sanctuary of brick, velvet, and mahogany. The space is warm and cozy and vaguely literary—later, when we pass through her bedroom en route to her garden, 10 percent of my brain will believe her wardrobe might open up to Narnia. Barefoot in a wine-colored floral top and matching flowy pants, Swift is typing passwords into a laptop to show me the video for “You Need to Calm Down,” eight days before she unleashes it on the world. I have a sliver of an idea what to expect. A few weeks earlier, I spent a day at the video shoot, in a dusty field-slash-junkyard north of Los Angeles. Swift had made it a sort of Big Gay Candy Mountain trailer park, a Technicolor happy place. The cast and crew wore heart-shaped sunglasses—living, breathing lovey-eyes emoji—and a mailbox warned, LOVE LETTERS ONLY. Swift and a stream of costars filmed six scenes over about a dozen hours. The singer-songwriter Hayley Kiyoko, known to her fans as “Lesbian Jesus,” shot arrows at a bull’s-eye. The YouTube comedian-chef Hannah Hart danced alongside Dexter Mayfield, the plus-size male model and self-described “big boy in heels.” The Olympic figure skater Adam Rippon served up icy red snow cones. Swift and her close friend Todrick Hall, of Kinky Boots and RuPaul’s Drag Race, sipped tea with the cast of Queer Eye. The mood was joyous and laid-back. But by the end of the day, I wasn’t sure what the vignettes would add up to. There were shoot days and cameos I wouldn’t observe. For security reasons, the song was never played aloud. (The cast wore ear buds.) Even the hero shot, in which Swift and Hall sauntered arm in arm through the dreamscape at golden hour, was filmed in near-total silence. For weeks afterward, I tried to sleuth out a theory. I started casually. There was a “5” on the bull’s-eye, so I did a quick search to figure out what that number might mean. Immediately I was in over my head. Swift has a thing for symbols. I knew she had been embedding secret messages in liner notes and deploying metaphors as refrains since her self-titled debut in 2006—long before her megafame made her into a symbol of pop supremacy. But I hadn’t understood how coded and byzantine her body of work has become; I hadn’t learned, as Swift’s fans have, to see hidden meanings everywhere. For instance: In the 2017 video for “Look What You Made Me Do,” a headstone in a graveyard scene reads NILS SJOBERG, the pseudonym Swift used as her writing credit on Rihanna’s hit “This Is What You Came For,” a Swedish-sounding nod to that country’s pop wizards. After an excessive amount of ad hoc scholarship—a friend joked that I could have learned Mandarin in the time I spent trying to unpack Swift’s oeuvre—I was no closer to a theory. Pop music has become so layered and meta, but the Taylor Swift Universe stands apart. Apprehending it is like grasping quantum physics. My first indication of what her new album, Lover, would be about came just after midnight on June 1, the beginning of Pride Month, when Swift introduced a petition in support of the federal Equality Act. This legislation would amend the Civil Rights Act to outlaw discrimination based on gender identity and sexual orientation. (It has passed the House, but prospects in Mitch McConnell’s Senate are unclear.) Swift also posted a letter to Senator Lamar Alexander, Republican of Tennessee, asking him to vote yes. The request, on her personal letterhead (born in 1989. LOVES CATS.), denounced President Trump for not supporting the Equality Act. “I personally reject the president’s stance,” Swift wrote. Back in the kitchen, Swift hits play. “The first verse is about trolls and cancel culture,” she says. “The second verse is about homophobes and the people picketing outside our concerts. The third verse is about successful women being pitted against each other.” The video is, for erudite Swifties, a rich text. I had followed enough clues to correctly guess some of the other cameos—Ellen DeGeneres, RuPaul, Katy Perry. I felt the satisfaction of a gamer who successfully levels up—achievement unlocked! The video’s final frame sends viewers to Swift’s change.org petition in support of the Equality Act, which has acquired more than 400,000 signatures—including those of Cory Booker, Elizabeth Warren, Beto O’Rourke, and Kirsten Gillibrand—or four times the number required to elicit an official response from the White House. “Maybe a year or two ago, Todrick and I are in the car, and he asked me, What would you do if your son was gay?” We are upstairs in Swift’s secret garden, comfortably ensconced in a human-scale basket that is sort of shaped like a cocoon. Swift has brought up an ornate charcuterie board and is happily slathering triple-cream Brie onto sea-salt crackers. “The fact that he had to ask me … shocked me and made me realize that I had not made my position clear enough or loud enough,” she says. “If my son was gay, he’d be gay. I don’t understand the question.” I have pressed Swift on this topic, and her answers have been direct, not performative or scripted. I do sense that she enjoys talking to me about as much as she’d enjoy a root canal—but she’s unfailingly polite, and when we turn to music, her face will light up and she will add little melodic phrases to her speech, clearly her preferred language. “If he was thinking that, I can’t imagine what my fans in the LGBTQ community might be thinking,” she goes on. “It was kind of devastating to realize that I hadn’t been publicly clear about that.” I understand why she was surprised; she has been sending pro-LGBTQ signals since at least 2011. Many have been subtle, but none insignificant—especially for a young country star coming out of Nashville. In the video for her single “Mean” (from 2010’s Speak Now), we see a boy in a school locker room wearing a lavender sweater and bow tie, surrounded by football players. In “Welcome to New York,” the first track on 1989, she sings, “And you can want who you want. Boys and boys and girls and girls.” Two years later, she donated to a fund for the newly created Stonewall National Monument and presented Ruby Rose with a GLAAD Media Award. Every night of last year’s Reputation tour, she dedicated the song “Dress” to Loie Fuller, the openly gay pioneer of modern dance and theatrical lighting who captured the imagination of fin-de-siècle Paris. Swift, who has been criticized for keeping her politics to herself, first took an explicit stance a month before the 2018 midterms. On Instagram, she endorsed Democrats for the Tennessee Legislature and called out the Republican running for Senate, Marsha Blackburn. “She believes businesses have a right to refuse service to gay couples,” Swift wrote. “She also believes they should not have the right to marry. These are not MY Tennessee values.” Swift says the post was partly to help young fans understand that if they wanted to vote, they had to register. To tell them, as she puts it, “Hey, just so you know, you can’t just roll up.” Some 65,000 new voters registered in the first 24 hours after her post, according to Vote.org. Trump came to Blackburn’s defense the following day. “She’s a tremendous woman,” he told reporters. “I’m sure Taylor Swift doesn’t know anything about her. Let’s say I like Taylor’s music about 25 percent less now, OK?” In April, spurred by a raft of anti-LGBTQ bills in Tennessee, Swift donated $113,000 to the Tennessee Equality Project, which advocates for LGBTQ rights. “Horrendous,” she says of the legislation. “They don’t call it ‘Slate of Hate’ for nothing.” Swift especially liked that the Tennessee Equality Project had organized a petition of faith leaders in opposition. “I loved how smart it was to come at it from a religious perspective.” Meanwhile, the “Calm Down” video provoked a Colorado pastor to call Swift “a sinner in desperate need of a savior” and warn that “God will cut her down.” It also revived heated debate within LGBTQ communities about the politics of allyship and corporatization of Pride. Some critics argued Swift’s pro-LGBTQ imagery and lyrics were overdue and out of the blue—a reaction the new Swift scholar in me found bewildering. Had they not been paying attention? Nor did it strike me as out of character for Swift to leverage her power for a cause. She pulled her catalog from Spotify in 2014 over questions of artist compensation. She stared down Apple in 2015, when the company said it would not pay artists during the launch of its music service. (Apple reversed itself immediately.) As a condition of her record deal with Universal Music Group last year, the company promised that it would distribute proceeds from any sale of its Spotify shares to all of its artists. And this summer, Swift furiously called out Scott Borchetta, founder of Big Machine Label Group, for selling her master recordings to the music manager Scooter Braun. (When I ask Swift if she tried to get her masters from Big Machine, her whole body slumps with a palpable heaviness. “It was either investing in my past or my and other artists’ future, and I chose the future,” she says of the deal she struck with Universal.) Swift’s blunt testimony during her 2017 sexual-assault case against a radio DJ—months before the #MeToo reckoning blew open—felt deeply political to me and, I imagine, many other women. Swift accused the DJ, David Mueller, of groping her under her skirt at a photo session in 2013. Her camp reported the incident to his employer, who fired him. Mueller denied the allegation, sued Swift for $3 million, and his case was thrown out. Swift countersued for a symbolic $1 and won. In a Colorado courtroom, Swift described the incident: “He stayed latched onto my bare ass cheek” as photos were being snapped. Asked why photos of the front of her skirt didn’t show this, she said, “Because my ass is located at the back of my body.” Asked if she felt bad about the DJ’s losing his job, she said, “I’m not going to let you or your client make me feel in any way that this is my fault. Here we are years later, and I’m being blamed for the unfortunate events of his life that are the product of his decisions—not mine.” When Time included Swift on the cover of its “Silence Breakers” issue that year, the magazine asked how she felt during the testimony. “I was angry,” she said. “In that moment, I decided to forgo any courtroom formalities and just answer the questions the way it happened…I’m told it was the most amount of times the word ass has ever been said in Colorado Federal Court.” Mueller has since paid Swift the dollar—with a Sacagawea coin. “He was trolling me, implying that I was self-righteous and hell-bent on angry, vengeful feminism. That’s what I’m inferring from him giving me a Sacagawea coin,” Swift says. “Hey, maybe he was trying to do it in honor of a powerful Native American woman. I didn’t ask.” Where is the coin now? “My lawyer has it.” I ask her, why get louder about LGBTQ rights now? “Rights are being stripped from basically everyone who isn’t a straight white cisgender male,” she says. “I didn’t realize until recently that I could advocate for a community that I’m not a part of. It’s hard to know how to do that without being so fearful of making a mistake that you just freeze. Because my mistakes are very loud. When I make a mistake, it echoes through the canyons of the world. It’s clickbait, and it’s a part of my life story, and it’s a part of my career arc.” I’d argue that no heterosexual woman can listen to “You Need to Calm Down” and hear only a gay anthem. “Calm down” is what controlling men tell women who are angry, contrary, or “hysterical,” or, let’s say, fearing for their physical safety. It is what Panic! at the Disco singer Brendon Urie says to Swift in the beginning of the “ME!” music video, prompting her to scream, “Je suis calme!” I cannot believe it is a coincidence that Swift, a numbers geek with an affinity for dates, dropped the single—whose slow, incessant bass is likely to be bumping in stadiums across the world in 2020 if she goes on tour—on June 14, a certain president’s birthday. It’s enlightening to read 13 years of Taylor Swift coverage—all the big reviews, all the big profiles—in one sitting. You notice things. How quickly Swift went from a “prodigy” (The New Yorker) and a “songwriting savant” (Rolling Stone) to a tabloid fixture, for instance. Or how suspect her ambition is made to seem once she acquires real power. Other plot points simply look different in the light of #MeToo. It is hard to imagine that Swift’s songs about her exes would be reviewed as sensationally today. I wonder if, in 2019, any man would dare grab the microphone out of a young woman’s hands at an awards show. I stared into space for a good long while when I was reminded that Pitchfork did not review Taylor Swift’s 1989 but did review Ryan Adams’s cover album of Taylor Swift’s 1989. I ask Swift if she had always been aware of sexism. “I think about this a lot,” she says. “When I was a teenager, I would hear people talk about sexism in the music industry, and I’d be like, I don’t see it. I don’t understand. Then I realized that was because I was a kid. Men in the industry saw me as a kid. I was a lanky, scrawny, overexcited young girl who reminded them more of their little niece or their daughter than a successful woman in business or a colleague. The second I became a woman, in people’s perception, was when I started seeing it. “It’s fine to infantilize a girl’s success and say, How cute that she’s having some hit songs,” she goes on. “How cute that she’s writing songs. But the second it becomes formidable? As soon as I started playing stadiums—when I started to look like a woman—that wasn’t as cool anymore. It was when I started to have songs from Red come out and cross over, like ‘I Knew You Were Trouble’ and ‘We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together.’ ” Those songs are also more assertive than the ones that came before, I say. “Yeah, the angle was different when I started saying, I knew you were trouble when you walked in. Basically, you emotionally manipulated me and I didn’t love it. That wasn’t fun for me.” I have to wonder if having her songwriting overlooked as her hits were picked apart and scrutinized wasn’t the biggest bummer of all. Swift: “I wanted to say to people, You realize writing songs is an art and a craft and not, like, an easy thing to do? Or to do well? People would act like it was a weapon I was using. Like a cheap dirty trick. Be careful, bro, she’ll write a song about you. Don’t stand near her. First of all, that’s not how it works. Second of all, find me a time when they say that about a male artist: Be careful, girl, he’ll use his experience with you to get—God forbid—inspiration to make art.” Without question the tenor of the Taylor Swift Narrative changed most dramatically in July 2016, when Kim Kardashian West called her a “snake” on Twitter, and released video clips of Swift and Kanye West discussing the lyrics to his song “Famous.” (No need to rehash the details here. Suffice it to say that Swift’s version of events hasn’t changed: She knew about some of the lyrics but not others; specifically, the words that bitch.) The posts sparked several hashtags, including #TaylorSwiftIsASnake and #TaylorSwiftIsCanceled, which quickly escalated into a months-long campaign to “cancel” Swift. To this day Swift doesn’t think people grasp the repercussions of that term. “A mass public shaming, with millions of people saying you are quote-unquote canceled, is a very isolating experience,” she says. “I don’t think there are that many people who can actually understand what it’s like to have millions of people hate you very loudly.” She adds: “When you say someone is canceled, it’s not a TV show. It’s a human being. You’re sending mass amounts of messaging to this person to either shut up, disappear, or it could also be perceived as, Kill yourself.” I get a sense of the whiplash Swift experienced when I notice that, a few months into this ordeal, while she was writing the songs that an interpolation of a ’90s camp classic, Right Said Fred’s “I’m Too Sexy.”) Nonetheless, most critics read it as a grenade lobbed in the general direction of Calabasas. One longtime Nashville critic, Brian Mansfield, had a more plausible take: She was writing sarcastically as the “Taylor Swift” portrayed in the media in a bid for privacy. “Yeah, this is the character you created for me, let me just hide behind it,” she says now of the persona she created. “I always used this metaphor when I was younger. I’d say that with every reinvention, I never wanted to tear down my house. ’Cause I built this house. This house being, metaphorically, my body of work, my songwriting, my music, my catalog, my library. I just wanted to redecorate. I think a lot of people, with Reputation, would have perceived that I had torn down the house. Actually, I just built a bunker around it.” In March, the snakes started to morph into butterflies, the vampire color palette into Easter pastels. When a superbloom of wildflowers lured a mesmerizing deluge of Painted Lady butterflies to Los Angeles, Swift marked it with an Instagram post. She attended the iHeartRadio Music Awards that night in a sequin romper and stilettos with shimmery wings attached. Swift announced the single “ME!” a month later, with a large butterfly mural in Nashville. In the music video for the (conspicuously) bubblegum song, a hissing pastel-pink snake explodes into a kaleidoscope of butterflies. One flutters by the window of an apartment, where Swift is arguing in French with Urie. A record player is playing in the background. “It’s an old-timey, 1940s-sounding instrumental version of ‘You Need to Calm Down,’ ’’ Swift says. Later, in the “Calm Down” video, Swift wears a (fake) back tattoo of a snake swarmed by butterflies. We are only two songs in, people. Lover, to be released on August 23, will have a total of 18 songs. “I was compiling ideas for a very long time,” Swift says. “When I started writing, I couldn’t stop.” (We can assume the British actor Joe Alwyn, with whom Swift has been in a relationship for nearly three years, provided some of the inspiration.) Swift thinks Lover might be her favorite album yet. “There are so many ways in which this album feels like a new beginning,” she says. “This album is really a love letter to love, in all of its maddening, passionate, exciting, enchanting, horrific, tragic, wonderful glory.” I have to ask Swift, given how genuinely at peace she seems, if part of her isn’t thankful, if not for the Great Cancellation of 2016, then for the person she now is—knowing who her friends are, knowing what’s what. “When you’re going through loss or embarrassment or shame, it’s a grieving process with so many micro emotions in a day. One of the reasons why I didn’t do interviews for Reputation was that I couldn’t figure out how I felt hour to hour. Sometimes I felt like: All these things taught me something that I never could have learned in a way that didn’t hurt as much. Five minutes later, I’d feel like: That was horrible. Why did that have to happen? What am I supposed to take from this other than mass amounts of humiliation? And then five minutes later I’d think: I think I might be happier than I’ve ever been.” She goes on: “It’s so strange trying to be self-aware when you’ve been cast as this always smiling, always happy ‘America’s sweetheart’ thing, and then having that taken away and realizing that it’s actually a great thing that it was taken away, because that’s extremely limiting.” Swift leans back in the cocoon and smiles: “We’re not going to go straight to gratitude with it. Ever. But we’re going to find positive aspects to it. We’re never going to write a thank-you note.” Though people will take the Perry-Swift burger-and-fries embrace in the “You Need to Calm Down” video as a press release that the two have mended fences, Swift says it’s actually a comment on how the media pits female pop stars against one another. After Perry sent Swift an (actual) olive branch last year, Swift asked her to be in the video: “She wrote back, This makes me so emotional. I’m so up for this. I want us to be that example. But let’s spend some time together. Because I want it to be real. So she came over and we talked for hours. “We decided the metaphor for what happens in the media,” Swift explains, “is they pick two people and it’s like they’re pouring gasoline all over the floor. All that needs to happen is one false move, one false word, one misunderstanding, and a match is lit and dropped. That’s what happened with us. It was: Who’s better? Katy or Taylor? Katy or Taylor? Katy or Taylor? Katy or Taylor? The tension is so high that it becomes impossible for you to not think that the other person has something against you.“ Meanwhile, the protesters in the video reference a real-life religious group that pickets outside Swift’s concerts, not the white working class in general, as some have assumed. “So many artists have them at their shows, and it’s such a confounding, confusing, infuriating thing to have outside of joyful concerts,” she tells me. “Obviously I don’t want to mention the actual entity, because they would get excited about that. Giving them press is not on my list of priorities.” At one point, Swift asks if I would like to hear two other songs off the new album. (Duh.) First she plays “Lover,” the title track, coproduced by Jack Antonoff. “This has one of my favorite bridges,” she says. “I love a bridge, and I was really able to go to Bridge City.” It’s a romantic, haunting, waltzy, singer-songwritery nugget: classic Swift. “My heart’s been borrowed and yours has been blue,” she sings. “All’s well that ends well to end up with you.” Next, Swift cues up a track that “plays with the idea of perception.” She has often wondered how she would be written and spoken about if she were a man, “so I wrote a song called ‘The Man.’ ” It’s a thought experiment of sorts: “If I had made all the same choices, all the same mistakes, all the same accomplishments, how would it read?” Seconds later, Swift’s earpods are pumping a synth-pop earworm into my head: “I’d be a fearless leader. I’d be an alpha type. When everyone believes ya: What’s that like?” Swift wrote the first two singles with Joel Little, best known as one of Lorde’s go-to producers. (“From a pop-songwriting point of view, she’s the pinnacle,” Little says of Swift.) The album is likely to include more marquee names. A portrait of the Dixie Chicks in the background of the “ME!” video almost certainly portends a collaboration. If fans are correctly reading a button affixed to her denim jacket in a recent magazine cover, we can expect one with Drake, too. Lover. “We met at one of her shows,” says McCartney, “and then we had a girls’ night and kind of jumped straight in. In London we’ll go on walks and talk about everything—life and love.” (Swift has no further fashion ambitions at the moment. “I really love my job right now,” she tells me. “My focus is on music.”) Oh, and that “5” on the bullseye? Track five is called “The Archer.” Yet something tells me the most illuminating clue for reading both Lover and Reputationmay be Loie Fuller, the dancer to whom Swift paid homage on tour. As Swift noted on a Jumbotron, Fuller “fought for artists to own their work.” Fuller also used swirling fabric and colored lights to metamorphose onstage, playing a “hide-and-seek illusionist game” with her audience, as one writer has put it. She became a muse to the Symbolists in Paris, where Jean Cocteau wrote that she created “the phantom of an era.” The effect, said the poet Stéphane Mallarmé, was a “dizziness of soul made visible by an artifice.” Fuller’s most famous piece was “Serpentine Dance.” Another was “Butterfly Dance.” Swift has had almost no downtime since late 2017, but what little she does have is divided among New York, Nashville, Los Angeles, and Rhode Island, where she keeps homes—plus London. In an essay earlier this year, she revealed that her mother, Andrea Swift, is fighting cancer for a second time. “There was a relapse that happened,” Swift says, declining to go into detail. “It’s something that my family is going through.” Later this year, she will star in a film adaptation of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Cats as Bombalurina, the flirtatious red cat. “They made us the size of cats by making the furniture bigger,” she says. “You’d be standing there and you could barely reach the seat of a chair. It was phenomenal. It made you feel like a little kid.” But first, she will spend much of the summer holding “secret sessions”—a tradition wherein Swift invites hundreds of fans to her various homes to preview her new music. “They’ve never given me a reason to stop doing it,” she says. “Not a single one.” Speaking of: Inquiring fans will want to know if Swift dropped any more clues about how to decode Lover during this interview. For you I reviewed the audio again, and there were a few things that made my newly acquired Swifty sense tingle. At one point she compared superstardom in the digital age to life in a dollhouse, one where voyeurs “can ‘ship’ you with who they want to ‘ship’ you with, and they can ‘favorite’ friends that you have, and they can know where you are all the time.” The metaphor was precise and vivid and, well, a little too intricately rendered to be off the cuff. (Also, the “ME!” lyric: “Baby doll, when it comes to a lover. I promise that you’ll never find another like me.”) Then there was the balloon—a giant gold balloon in the shape of a numeral seven that happened to float by while we were on her roof, on this, the occasion of her seventh album. “Is it an L’?” I say. “No, because look, the string is hanging from the bottom,” she says. It might seem an obvious symbolic gesture, deployed for this interview, except for how impossible that seems. Swift let me control the timing of nearly everything. Moreover, the gold seven wasn’t floating up from the sidewalk below. It was already high in the sky, drifting slowly toward us from down the street. She would have had to control the wind, or at least to have studied it. Would Taylor Swift really go to such elaborate lengths for her fans? This much I know: Yes, she would.

[star-spangled-steve]

His New Partner

Chapter 24: The Last Night Of Freedom

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: 3402

Warnings: Smut, vaginal sex, oral sex, fingering, nudity, Daddy!Kink, Dom!Steve, sub!Reader, dirty talk, cussing, alcohol, implications of female strippers.

A/N: Just so you know, Y/F/N means Your Friend’s Name and Y/C/N means Your Cousin’s Name; both female in this case. Though if you aren’t close with any cousins, you can just imagine another friend. Enjoy this chapter!

“May your bachelorette party be filled with and fun, love, laughter, and most importantly, lots and lots of liquor.” Natasha spoke with a smirk before shouting “To Y/N!” as a closer to her Maid of Honour speech, or what was at least a shorter version. The real one would take place in exactly a week, but instead of being in front of five other ladies, it would be in front of about two hundred wedding guests.

The small circle of women all cheered and clinked their glasses together, repeating “To Y/N!” with huge smiles before tipping their drinks back.

A group of people from a table nearby started to clap, making the bride-to-be blush and give them a small wave after she finished her sip.

Y/F/N turned around to the look at the supportive Las Vegas bar patrons before facing back to Y/N with a smile. “Ooo, N/N. Looks like that one guy over there recognizes you.” She discretely nudged her head towards the handsome brunette who was sitting right across from them. “He’s cute, you should go for it.”

“Dude, I’m getting married in literally a week.” The actress stated, shaking her head at her friend’s silliness.

Maria smirked. “Still, it’s never too late to call it off.”

Y/C/N laughed at the comment, completely knowing that it was a joke. You’d have to be completely blind to not see the pure love between Steve and Y/N. “Ya, then that way I could have the Captain all for myself.”

“Oh please.” Y/N playfully shook her head. “We all know that Natasha would have next dibs.”

The assassin scoffed in response. “Says who?”

The woman of the hour raised her eyebrows. “You, ‘ya big fiancé kisser!”

The table erupted in gasps and giggles.

“Wait, wait, wait, what happened?” Pepper chimed in.

Maria chuckled. “Oh ya, I heard about that!”

“She kissed Steve when they were in Washington like a year ago.” Y/N explained, pretending to be mad when in reality she was completely over it. “He wasn’t technically my fiancé yet, but you still kissed my boyfriend.”

“It was for a mission! The guys could’ve killed us if we were recognized! I did what I had to do to hide our faces.” Natasha stated, throwing an arm up and down in exaggeration. “How did you even find out? Did Steve tell you?”

“Well, duh!” Y/N said with a laugh. “The man apologized to me like five times.”

“But you kiss a ton of actors all the time for your job.” Pepper pointed out with furrowed eyebrows and tilted her head. “Do you apologize?”

The girl in question nodded her head. “At first, for sure. It was pretty hard for him to deal with, and that’s why he felt so guilty doing the same back to me.” She took another sip of her drink, watching Natasha’s expression from over the rim of her glass. The redhead had an uncharacteristically ashamed look on her face. “Relax, Nat.” Y/N spoke after putting her empty glass down on the glossy wood table. “I’m not really upset, I was just kidding.”

Y/F/N grinned. “So... free dibs to kiss Mr. America then?”

“Absolutely not.”

*****

“To Steve!” Sam cheered, urging the other four guests to repeat him, while the one man of the hour just stood there and beamed.

After taking a long sip of his beer, Clint slapped a hand on the Captain’s shoulder. “May your bachelor party be one to remember.”

“Your last night of freedom.” Rhodes added.

Steve shook his head with a smile. “Well, we can’t exactly call it my last night of freedom. The wedding is a whole seven days away.”

“Still,” Tony cocked his head to the side, “the last night where you’re not tied down to the responsibilities of becoming a husband.“

And it was exactly that. Y/N and the wedding planner had reserved the entire upcoming week to set things up for the ceremony, reception, and photoshoot in between.

“Come on,” Thor, who came back to Earth specifically for these festivities, let out a deep chuckle, “you can tell by the look in this man’s eyes that he truly loves all the weddingly duties.”

Sam nodded. “We all know that Cap would rather be snuggled under the covers with Y/N somewhere than be here with us.”

Steve gave them one of his half grins. “Regardless of what I’d rather or be doing right now,-”

“Or who you’d rather be doing.” Tony interrupted, making the circle of men laugh and the groom-to-be roll his eyes.

“Anyways, I really do appreciate you guys bringing me here.” Steve stated, glancing around their private room at one of Las Vegas’ fanciest bars. It was something that only the big names of the Avengers could book, and the big wallet of Tony Stark could afford.

“The evening’s only beginning though, right, Stark?” Clint waggled his eyebrows up and down with a cheesy smirk.

“Most definitely.” Tony snickered before checking the time on his very expensive watch, seeing that it was now 9:56 at night. “And in a little less than five minutes, the show will finally start.”

Steve furrowed his eyebrows. “What show? I thought we were just going to go back down and gamble some more.”

In order to avoid the man’s eyes, Sam and Tony glanced at their shoes as Clint took a sip of his drink in hopes to hide his smile. Rhodes started to chuckle a little bit, meanwhile Thor was just as confused as the super soldier.

“What did you guys plan?” Steve questioned, suddenly bringing out his special Captain America voice that was only reserved for missions; sometimes the bedroom.

Stark just shrugged mischievously.

“Tony, guys, I swear to Go-”

Roger’s words were interrupted by the sound of squealing women, high heels thumping down the hallway, and a big speaker that was playing some new sensual pop song that he had never heard before.

“You didn’t.” Steve ground his teeth in frustration, eyeing each of his friends. “Whose idea was this?”

Sam sheepishly raised his hand. “It’s my duty as Best Man to give you the best night ever!”

“I thought that we had discuss-”

The double doors suddenly burst open, revealing a large clan of attractive women wearing very, very little clothing. “Oh, Captain!” They called before skipping into the room and circling around the seemingly uncomfortable man.

Steve just sighed as he glanced around the approximately ten pretty faces surrounding him, eyes not daring to stray any lower than their chins. “Oh boy.”

*****

The music of the bar club just seemed to get louder and louder, clouding all of her senses as she took another sip of what was probably her third drink of the evening. Y/N wasn’t exactly drunk yet, but tipsy enough to not really care that she’d been sitting alone for the last half an hour.

Las Vegas was pretty fancy, the girl would have to give it that. The bars were lined with more liquor bottles than she could count, not a finger smudge on any of them, and she was pretty sure that her hotel room was at least 50% marble.

But of course, that could’ve just been Tony’s miraculous planning skills; or Tony’s miraculous stack of money. Y/N couldn’t even imagine what it would cost to bring all twelve people in the wedding party to Las Vegas for the weekend, let alone stay in the two nicest casino hotels in the area.

Yes, two. One for the men, one for the women. Sam and Natasha took great responsibility in their Best Man and Maid of Honour roles, deciding to have the two groups bunk separately, almost ten blocks apart. It was Steve and Y/N’s bachelor and bachelorette parties after all, one of their last nights being two singles. Everyone wanted the pair to spend it to its full extent.

Vibrations coming from her clutch broke Y/N out of her slightly tipsy haze, making the girl take out her cellphone and instantly smile when she saw that it was Steve calling her. “Hello?” She spoke after answering it.

“Hey, sweetheart.” The man said from the other end.

“Honey.” She greeted as she sat up straighter on her barstool, becoming excited at the sound of his voice, “What’s up?”

“Just miss you, that’s all.”

Y/N beamed. They had only been apart for half of a day, and he had already wanted to see her. “I miss you too, Stevie. You having fun?”

“Uh,” the Captain puffed out a breath, “ya, ya, tons of fun. T-Tame fun, nothing too crazy.” He told her, trying to hide the fact that there had just been plenty of almost-naked women dancing around him. “What about you?”

“Well,” Y/N looked around the noisy bar that she was in, still seeing none of her friends around, “it’s been okay.”

“Only okay?”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, it started out great.” She explained. “But, uh, everyone ‘sorta went off to do their own thing.”

“They ditched you?” Steve sternly asked, mad at the fact that Y/N was all by herself in the busy city of Las Vegas.

“No!” She shook her head back and forth, even though he couldn’t actually see her. “Pepper and Y/C/N we’re doing so well in the casino that I just let them keep going, last time I saw Nat and Maria they were playing pool, and Y/F/N went off somewhere to hook up with this random guy.”

“Awe, doll. I’m so sorry.” Steve comforted.

Y/N gloomily tapped her nails against the sleek wood bar top, her other hand still holding the phone to her ear. “It’s alright. You know that these clubs and all aren’t exactly my scene anyways.”

“Here,” the man spoke up, coming upon a realization, “I have an idea. Why don’t you go down to the lobby, and I’ll meet you there?”

“You ‘wanna come over here?”

Steve answered like it was obvious. “Of course.”

Y/N was confused. “But hon, it’s your bachelor party. The whole point of the night is to be away from each other. I don’t ‘wanna ruin your fun.”

He shook his head at her words, telling even from blocks away that there was a sheepish look painted on her face. “You honestly think that you’d be ruining my fun? Baby, you are my fun.” Steve looked around the room that he was in, making sure all of his friends seemed alright on their own. “Just meet me down there, N/N. Then we can go up to your room, and I’ll give you the best bachelorette party that you could ever ask for. That’s a promise.”

*****

Y/N fumbled with her hotel room key card as she struggled to unlock her door, getting the red light instead of the green light every time. Though to her defence, there was a major distraction grinding up against her backside.

“Better hurry up, baby girl. I’m getting impatient here.” Steve whispered huskily into her ear, leaving her shivering.

The girl finally managed to unlock her door, and the moment she did, it was closed from the inside and she was shoved against it. Y/N’s legs around Steve’s waist, his lips against her neck. She let out a high-pitched moan.

“Oh, you like that, baby? You like it when your daddy’s rough with you?”

Another whine in response.

“I need an answer, baby.” The man added with a particularly harsh bite to her neck. Y/N instantly knew there’d be marks the next day, worrying that they’d still be there for the wedding, but was too turned on to say anything.

“Yes.” She managed to let slip past her lips.

“‘Yes’ who?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl.” Just as every time, the word ‘daddy’ went straight to Steve’s dick; the evidence was extremely prominent against Y/N’s thigh. 

He had-had enough by now. And so, he grabbed on to the neckline of her olive green dress and ripped it straight down. His plump lips instantly attacked her chest, which to both his surprise and delight, was not clad in a bra.

“I knew it.” Steve rasped. “Have you been braless all night, my naughty girl?”

“Yes, daddy.” Y/N said shakily. But who could blame her for not wearing one? It was a strapless dress and the top part was double-layered anyways.

“I bet you aren’t wearing any panties either.” He said in between sloppy kisses to her breasts. “I think I have to check.” And with that, he strongly pressed the fingers of his right hand against her clit, being correct about the lack of underwear. But once again, who could blame her? The bottom part of her bodycon dress was very thin, and she definitely couldn’t have panty lines.

“Daddy.” The girl whined.

His fingers then slipped inside her tight, aching hole, repeatedly thrusting in and out.

Y/N’s legs turned to jelly, instantly hanging against Steve’s sides. Luckily though, due to his brute strength and the sturdiness of the hotel’s door, she stayed upright as he continued fucking her with his fingers.

“Cum for me baby, cum for your daddy.” He ordered, his thumb and forefinger instantly pinching her clit.

So with that, Y/N let go of any last bit of control she had left, and came. Hard.

The room was filled with the sounds of whines, panting, and the squishing of Steve’s fingers inside of her wet opening.

“Shhh, shh.” He cooed as she came down from her high. “You did so great, my precious girl.” Right as Y/N felt brought back down to Earth, he started counting in a low voice “That’s one.”

Uh oh, she though to herself. It was one of those nights. Those nights were Steve repeatedly made her cum until she was so sensitive that she couldn’t even move. And it’s not that Y/N didn’t enjoy these nights, because she sure did, but she also knew that once he was getting started, there was no way of getting him to stop.

Steve brought his right hand up to his mouth, slowly and sensually licking the juices off each individual finger as if savouring the taste of her. The man adjusted his hands underneath Y/N’s thighs before he quickly walked them both to the bed, throwing her onto it.

Just as quickly, Steve took off his sport coat and crawled overtop of her with a low growl; this just added to her wetness. “Let’s see how many more you’ve got in you, little girl.” He said with quirked up lips. But that sly smirk was soon out of Y/N’s field of view, as his mouth descended to her dripping pussy.

“Oh, Jesus.” She said as she felt his tongue against her.

He peered up from between her legs. “That’s not my name, princess.” 

“I’m sorry, daddy.”

Steve went back down and continued his delicious assault on her core. With every stroke of his tongue, Y/N felt as if she was being pulled further and further away from her coherent thoughts. The only two things on her mind being the feel of his mouth on her vagina, and the slight brush of his nose against her clit every time he shifted his head.

“Daddy, I-I-I’m going to cum again.” Y/N stuttered.

The words “Do it, babydoll.” vibrated against her pussy, pushing the girl over the edge for a second time.

Steve lapped up every last drop that Y/N had to offer, and once he went up the bed so that they were eye to eye, licked his lips. The man looked every bit as much as a cat who just got his cream. “Two.” He proudly rumbled into her ear.

Y/N was still in her post-orgasm bliss as she heard the sound of Steve’s belt being undone and dropped to the floor. She turned her head just in time to see him finish unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his sculpted chest and abs. Next to go was his pants and boxer briefs, Steve’s large hands pulling them both down all at once. 

Y/N’s mouth watered at the sight of his delicious cock. No matter how many times that she had seen it and felt it before, the size continued to overwhelm her.

As if the man had read her mind, “You like what you see, my baby?” He took the handy condom out of his wallet, rolling it on and stroking himself in the process.

Too caught up in the sight of what was him, all that Y/N could do was nod her head.

Once again, Steve made his way to hover above her. One moment, the girl was staring up into his beautiful blue eyes, and the next, she was moaning out in surprise at the sudden impact of him inside of her. 

Just as suddenly, his dick started to thrust in and out of her at a slow, leisurely pace. Steve was doing it specifically to drive her insane. It had worked.

“Faster, daddy.” Y/N whimpered.

“Baby girl, is that how you ask daddy a question?” The Captain retaliated as he continued to move in and out of her wanting hole.

The girl was almost crying at this point, “Please, please daddy, can you go please faster?”

Steve, starting to get impatient himself, began to fuck her more quickly. He could see how easily she was falling apart underneath him by each squeeze of her walls around his member.

And with a gasp, Y/N was cumming again.

“Three.” Steve groaned out as he was slowing his thrusts. The man then pulled out of her, his dick still as hard as ever.

Without warning the girl was tossed onto her stomach, Steve’s big hands harshly grasping her hips and bringing them closer to his own. There would definitely be bruises the next day, matching the ones he already made on her neck and chest. But she decided she’d wear them all with pride, and maybe a bit of concealer if necessary.

Steve entered her a second time, his pace being even quicker than before; if possible. He could see Y/N’s hands strongly grasping the sheets from his place behind her, just loving how desperate she was for him.

Between the feeling of her tight pussy around him and the continual sounds she was making, the man figured that it wouldn’t be long before he finished. But, he knew he could give her one more first. Steve was the type who got off on getting her off. Y/N had no complaints.

As he started to rub circles on her clit, she loudly moaned out into the vast expanse of her hotel room.

“Come on little girl, give me one more,” Steve huffed. “Cum once more for daddy.”

With that last bit of encouragement, the girl came again; her biggest orgasm of the night triggering his own.

“Y/N, baby.” He groaned out as she collapsed on the bed from exhaustion. Steve swerved just in time to avoid crushing her, running a hand through his damp golden hair. “Best. Bachelor. Party. Ever.” He spoke in between pants of breath.

The girl turned onto her back and nodded her sweat-covered head. “Agreed.”

The man only stayed on the bed a minute before he was up and heading to the ensuite bathroom. He returned with a wet, warm washcloth and began to rub in between Y/N’s thighs, cleaning her up.

“Thank you.” She said hoarsely, her voice practically wrecked after the night’s activities.

“Of course.” Steve replied with a sincere smile. How in less than five minutes he went from a dominant sex god to a sweet and wholesome boyfriend would forever remain a mystery to Y/N.

He returned the cloth to the restroom before making his way back to the bed, turning off the room’s lights along the way.

“I love you so much.” The Captain stated as he tucked them both underneath the covers and pulled her into his arms.

The effect that this man had on her never failed, as Y/N was blushing at the simple phrase they’ve said over a thousand times. “I love you more.” She added cheekily.

“Not possible.” Steve contradicted, just as usual. And before she could counter back, he placed a loving kiss right on her lips.

“Goodnight, Stevie.” Y/N spoke as she turned in his arms, having him spoon her.

“Goodnight, my love.” But, it only took about three seconds before he was speaking up again. “Oh, and babydoll?”

“Mm-hmm?” Y/N replied, almost asleep.

“Four.”

Next Chapter

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