#i also thanked him & he says i can start of tuesday which is great

[freesomebodybyluna]

...

[f1goat]

his masseur x lando norris

In which you're Lando his best friend and masseur, but your feelings start to cause a bit of trouble.

Requested: yes Warnings: small mentions of sexual content / not proof read

Tuesday - August 2022

“Maybe you can sleep in my bed this time?” Lando asks you. 

You look up surprised. This is new.

“What’s wrong with the guest room?” You ask still surprised.

“Nothing!” Lando quickly exclaims, “but I’m tired but I also don’t want to stop cuddling like this. So I thought we could sleep together.. Maybe?” 

You notice that Lando is rambling now. You smile at him. “That sounds great,” you say with a genuine smile.

Lando leaves his earlier position to get of the couch. You think about what’s happening. Maybe it’s weird for friends to cuddle as much as you and Lando do. Maybe it’s even weirder that you’re going to sleep in the same bed as him. But it’s not like you mind. You have been crushing on Lando forever, so every little thing you can have you take willingly.

Thursday - November 2022

“Happy birthday Lan!”

You kiss him on his cheeks. Lando pulls you even closer to him so the two of you can hug properly. After a bit you release yourself from his hug so you can give him his present. You hand him over the present you carefully wrapped with an orange wrapping paper. You watch how Lando unties the golden ribbons. 

His face lits up when he sees the present. You smile as well from his happy reaction. It’s safe to say he loves the new microphone you got him. It’s themed with everything he likes. The Quadrant logo and colors are covering the stand part, while the mic itself is a bit more McLaren themed. 

“I thought you could use a new one for your streams,” you tell him. 

“You’re amazing!” Lando exclaims enthusiastic. He pulls you closer to himself again. It doesn’t take more then a few seconds before he’s hugging you once again. 

“I love it,” he tells you softly, “You know me the best!”

Sunday - December 2022

“Finally a well deserved break,” Lando says. 

You nod. “You were amazing this season,” you tell him. 

Lando smiles gratefully. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” he tells you even more grateful. 

“Don’t say that,” you say quickly, “It was all you. I’m just massaging you.”

“I’m glad you’re on my team,” Lando says, “so I might have a tiny surprise to thank you for that.”

“A tiny surprise?” You ask.

“I booked us a hotel here, so we can spend a week together. We can do some fun things! Like exploring the city and go buggy riding in the desert.”

“That’s not a tiny surprise,” you tell him while laughing.

“Oops,” Lando just says.

“Are you thanking everyone on your team like that?” You ask.

“I send the rest a nice thank you card,” Lando replies.

You laugh.

Sunday morning - January 2023

“I can’t wait to spend the whole year with you again,” Lando softly says. The clock just stroke midnight. Lando is sitting next to you on the couch. You’re with friends, but everyone is busy with wishing each other a happy new year. Something you should do as well, but you’re enjoying your small private moment with Lando. 

“Me too Lan,” you say, “and a happy new year to you!”

“Happy new year!” Lando replies happily.

He comes closer to you. You want to press a kiss to his cheek, like you always do with friends while wishing them a happy new year. Lando seems to have the same idea. You don’t know how it happend, but in some way Lando his lips end up on yours.

“Oh fuck,” you say.

It didn’t even last two seconds, but it feels like an eternity. 

“Sorry!” Lando quickly says.

“It doesn’t matter Lan, nothing happened. I’m going to wish the others a happy new year as well.”

Lando watches you when you walk away. He sighs. “Yeah, nothing happened. Just my feelings for you,” he mutters annoyed. 

Thursday night - February 2023

“Thanks for picking me up,” you tell Lando.

“It’s nothing, how was the date?” Lando asks you.

You sigh. “Since I texted you a few hours earlier then we discussed I think you can conclude that it was bad.”

“I don’t get it. Why do you keep going on dates with types like this?” Lando asks you.

“I don’t know either,” you sigh. You think about who you really want. The guy next to you who’s currently driving you home in his McLaren. Lando is silent, he’s thinking about how it shouldn’t feel this way. Every time he picks you up he’s happy that your date didn’t go well. He can’t be like this. His jealousy is rising up way too much recently.

“I think I’m going to stop dating for a while,” you tell Lando after a bit of silence, “Maybe I’m not ready yet,” you add.

Lando can’t stop himself from smiling. It’s insane how relieved he feels suddenly.

Friday night - March 2023

“Would it be weird if we kissed?”

You look up at Lando. Does he even know what he’s asking you right now? It’s not like you can blame him right now. He’s drunk. But still, you let out a small sigh when you think about his question. Yes it would be weird, but you wouldn’t care about that. 

“I kinda want to kiss you,” Lando continues.

Butterflies are all over the place inside of you. You don’t have to check the rear mirror in Lando his car to find out your cheeks are red. You feel flustered. You try to focus on driving, but Lando is making it hard for you. For the second time that evening you remind yourself about Lando his condition. He’s drunk. Carlos and Max texted you before to warn you and when you picked up Lando you quickly noticed it as well. You can’t take his words serious right now, he’s drunk. 

“You’re drunk Lan,” you tell him after doubting for a bit, “but yes, it probably would be weird. We have been friends forever.” You don’t tell him that you don’t mind the weird aspect. You also don’t tell him about your feelings from the last years for him. 

“If you say so,” Lando sighs. 

You hope Lando doesn’t asks questions like this again. Or not like this. He can ask questions like this, but not when he’s drunk and his words are meaningless. 

Saturday morning - March 2023

“Fuck,” Lando grunts, “That was just what I needed.” 

You release a bit off the harsh pressure you used earlier. Slowly you massage further. Since you graduated last year, you’ve become Lando his personal masseuse. You’ve been lucky when McLaren hired you for it. Since then you join Lando and his - and your - team to every race. Meaning you can spend a lot of time with Lando. 

“I thought so,” you tell Lando smilingly.

Lando lets out a soft moan. Something that can give you weird butterflies sometimes, but now you’re getting used to it. It’s just because your massaging him. 

“You seemed pretty drunk last night,” you add.

“Oh god,” Lando grunts, “Please don’t remind me. I have no memories left. Sorry that you needed to pick me up like that.” 

You let out a soft disappointed sigh. You already expected this, but still. It would be nice if Lando remembered what he told you last night. It’s nothing new. Things like this happen way too often. 

“It doesn’t matter Lan, that’s what friends do,” you tell him to comfort him.

“Hm, friends yeah,” Lando sighs. 

“What do you mean?” You ask.

Lando doesn’t really respond anymore. You put a bit more pressure on his abs while massaging him. While you do so you think about multiple weird situations you had with Lando. 

“Maybe we can have a night in tonight? After qualifying,” Lando suggests after a bit. “We can watch some movies or something, whatever you like,” he adds.

“I kinda planned a selfcare night,” you tell Lando, “but maybe we can combine it?” 

“I’m in,” Lando tells you happily. 

“Great!”

Saturday - April 2023

“Y/n, it’s time for my massage.”

You look up surprised. Lando is standing in front of you and Pierre. What is he talking about? You just massaged him earlier. You’re free for the rest of the day. 

“Let’s talk further another time,” Pierre tells you.

You just met him. He seemed nice. Maybe you can finally find some other friends on the grid as well? 

“That sounds great,” you tell Pierre excited. 

You almost start to think that Lando lets out a scoff, but you’re probably wrong. You walk closer to Lando and he takes you with him to his drivers room.

“I already massaged you Lan, what was that about?” You ask him confused.

“I just got a bit of pain in my shoulder,” Lando mutters.

“Okay, can you pull of your shirt?”

When Lando feels your hands on his painless shoulders, he feels happy again. Maybe it was childish, but he didn’t see another way to get you away from Pierre and back to himself.

What’s going on with him?

Wednesday - May 2023

“I think I’m in love with y/n.”

“No shit,” Max sighs, “It took you forever to find out.”

Lando looks at his friend. Was he that transparant?

“So when will you tell her?” Max asks.

“Never!” Lando says quickly. He almost shouts. “What do you think that’ll happen? She doesn’t return my feelings, everything will become awkward and then I will lose her.”

“For fuck sake,” Max sighs, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Max, you have to keep this a secret,” Lando almost begs, “I can’t lose y/n.”

“You’re such an idiot.”

Saturday - June 2023

“Fuck, that feels amazing,” Lando moans.

You slowly apply more pressure to his body. Your hands roam around Lando his necks and shoulders carefully. When you come closer to his neck, Lando can’t withhold another soft moan. You start to feel the well known butterflies flatter around in your body.

Lando doesn’t stop. He keeps letting out soft sounds that show you exactly what you’re doing to him. After a bit you notice that you’ll get an even bigger reaction when you massage him on a specific spot close to his neck. You can’t help yourself and don’t stop touching him there. Can it be his sweet spot? You wonder what will happen when you let your lips touch his neck right on that spot. Fuck, you shouldn’t think like this.

“Can you lie down on your back Lan?” You ask a bit later.

Lando shuffles a bit, but he doesn’t move to lie down on his back. You wonder what’s going on. 

“Lan?” You ask.

“Give me a few minutes,” Lando tells you. 

“Is something wrong? You need to tell me if you feel uncomfortable or painful when I do something,” you say.

“No!” Lando quickly replies, “It’s far from wrong.”

You don’t get it at first, but then Lando lies down on his back. You notice the bulge that formed itself in his pants. Lando doesn’t look at you. Something that comes in quite handy right now, because you’re smile isn’t really professional anymore.

Sunday - July 2023

Lando his qualifying at Silverstone went amazing. He got the second place and that as his home race. This is amazing. Currently the two of you are laying on the couch. You’re feeling relaxed while spending time like this with Lando. 

“Maybe I can massage you a bit?” Lando suggests, “Reverse the roles  for once.”

“That seems nice.”

Lando helps you to find a comfortable position on his lap. His hands slowly find your shoulders. He’s quick to apply a bit of pressure on them. You let out a soft sigh of relaxation. It’s been way too long since someone massaged you. That’s the disadvantage of being a masseur, everyone always expects you to massage them and not the other way around. 

“How does this feel?” Lando asks you. 

It feels like his hands are touching you everywhere at once. You haven’t felt this relaxed in a long time. He’s slowly massaging your neck and you can’t stop yourself from letting out a soft moan. 

“Like you should do this more often,” you answer Lando jokingly.

You don’t tell him that you already feel yourself getting wet. Fuck. Why does he have to have such big, strong hands? That also feel insanely good on your body?

***

A few hours and a movie and some YouTube video’s later you’re still laying against Lando. The two of you are cuddled up on the couch in your hotel room. Lando plays with your hair while he focuses on the television in front of him. You can’t seem to focus anymore. Your mind keeps filling up with thoughts about Lando. 

“I’m glad you’re on my team,” Lando tells you suddenly, “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“You’re the one who’s racing this good,” you reply. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Lando says slowly, “but I couldn’t have done any of this without your support. It means the world to me that you’re always here.”

“There’s no place where I would be rather.”

“Promise me you’re in for a long time?” Lando asks you.

Without even thinking about it you stick out your pink. Lando is quick to wrap his own around yours.

“I promise Lan and if you join another team, I’ll do everything I can to join them as well.”

“I’m not going anywhere else if you can’t join me,” Lando says, “If they want me, they get you as well.”

You laugh. 

Sunday - July 2023

You haven’t seen Lando for a while now. The two of you are in some sort of night club with a lot of the other drivers. Earlier today Lando got his second place. His first podium of the season. He even drove a couple laps as race leader. Things were amazing. You haven’t been proud, excited and happy like this for a long time. It feels insanely good. That’s why the both of you wanted to celebrate. 

“Hi!”

You notice that Pierre Gasly is standing in front of you and just greeted you. 

“Hey,” you greet him back.

Pierre and you have know each other for a while now. You can say that you’re friends with each other, but not really close friends. During race weekends you’ll talk with each other, but that’s about it. Still, when you talk to each other it’s nice and comfortable. 

“In the mood to dance?” Pierre asks you. You’re quick to nod. Pierre gives you his hand and takes you with him towards the dance floor. 

When Lando searches for you, he’s surprised to find you on the dance floor. Until he sees with who you are. Fuck. He lets out an annoyed sigh. Why does Pierre always come close to you? Lando thinks about a way to get you away from Pierre, but he can’t figure out something right now.

“Congrats on the podium!” 

Without even realizing it, Lando is hugging with Yuki Tsunoda. He makes a bit of small talk with him, but Lando his eyes never leave you and Pierre. It annoys him that you’re still dancing with him. He needs to figure out a way to get you back to himself.

“Don’t you find them cute together?” Yuki asks him after a while.

Is Yuki talking about you and Pierre as well? Before Lando can say anything, Yuki continues talking.

“Pierre has been planning on taking her out for a while, maybe he’ll finally ask her now,” Yuki tells Lando. 

“He likes her?” Lando asks.

Yuki nods.

“Fuck, I knew it,” Lando mutters annoyed. 

Without a plan he walks towards you and Pierre. When he stands in front of you two, he’s quick to grab your arm. You are quick to look up. You’re surprised to see Lando in front of you. 

“We’re going back to the hotel,” Lando tells you quickly, not knowing any better excuse right now. 

“Why?” You ask surprised.

“I’m not feeling well,” Lando lies. 

He notices the way your facial expressions change. He starts to feel like a terrible person when he sees your concerned face. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask him. 

“I’ll explain in the car,” Lando answers with the lack of a better answer.

“Wait, y/n, before you go, can I ask you something?” Pierre asks you.

Lando his grip on your arm firms. He pulls you with him softly. You look at him, still concerned about his well being. “I really want to go,” Lando tells you. He knows what’s coming next, Pierre is going to ask you out. Fuck. He needs to get you away. 

“Maybe you can text me it?” You suggest to Pierre, “Lando isn’t feeling well, so we’re leaving now.”

“I’ll just ask you later,” Pierre sighs.

When you’re sitting in Lando his car, you notice that the boy is looking a lot better already. His weird facial expressions from earlier are gone, he almost seems relieved now? Maybe he was overwhelmed with all the attention and loud music? 

“What was wrong?” You ask Lando. 

“I uh,” Lando stutters a bit, “uh, I uh, I had a.. a uh, a headache. But it’s already getting better now.”

***

“Sooo,” you let out. You have been waiting for a moment to ask Lando something and maybe now is your chance? 

“So?”

“Why don’t you like Pierre?” You ask him. 

Since you and Pierre have gotten a bit closer, you have noticed Lando his strange behavior against Pierre. He always tries to get you away from him with excuses (?) about more massages. Or he joins your conversation and makes things awkward. What seems on purpose sometimes. 

“You always try to get me away from him,” you add while waiting for Lando his reaction. 

Lando sighs. Maybe he should just tell you everything. But he doesn’t. 

“There’s nothing wrong with Pierre,” Lando replies.

Wednesday - July 2023

“Want to lunch together?” Lando asks you. 

“I’m sorry Lan, Pierre asked me to get lunch together earlier today,” you reply a bit disappointed. If Lando only asked you earlier…

“Oh allright, then I’ll see you later. Right?” Lando asks disappointed.

“Yeah, after lunch I’ll be back,” you reply. 

“Okay, have fun.”

Friday - July 2023

“We’re still on for tonight, right?” Lando asks you. 

“What do you mean?” You ask surprised. 

“It’s Friday!” Lando exclaims loudly, “we always have your self care night on Friday.” 

“Oh fuck,” you whisper. You totally forgot. Or better said, you didn’t know Lando saw it as a weekly thing. “Pierre asked me out for dinner tonight, I’m so sorry Lan,” you explain, “but I can cancel?” 

“You don’t have to,” Lando sighs, “just have fun with Pierre.” 

***

Y/n: uh hi 

Y/n: can u pick me up?

Lando: where?

Y/n: *location*

Lando: where is that? Who lives there?

Y/n: Pierre

Lando: can’t he bring you home

Lando: you seem to be dating him

Lando: not me.

Y/N: please lan

Lando: Omw

***

“Thanks for picking me up,” you tell Lando when you step into his car. 

Lando is quick to notice your sad expression. He wonders what happened inside Pierre his house. When he sees a small tear rolling over your cheek, he knows for sure something happened.

“What’s wrong?” Lando asks you. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you sigh. 

“Babygirl,” Lando sighs, “What’s going on lately? We barely see each other and now I’m picking you up from Pierre’s while you’re all sad?” 

You let out a small sob. 

“I fucked things up,” you cry out. 

Lando increases his speed, he wants to get home as soon as possible so he can talk to you properly. He puts his free hand on your thigh and slowly draws some figures on it. When you use both of your hands to hold his, he can’t resist a small smile. 

When you’re inside Lando his home, you know Lando still wants answers. He deserves them as well. Together you sit down on his couch. You try to look at Lando, but you can only sob when you do. 

Pierre asked you to be his girlfriend tonight. You told him no. Of course you said no. You thought things between you two were just friendly. And there’s Lando. Maybe if Lando wasn’t here, you would have given Pierre a chance. But he’s here. He’s always on your mind. Even when you tried to forget about him, he’s always present in your thoughts. 

“What happened?” Lando asks you again. 

“I uh,” you stutter, “Pierre uh.. He, he asked me to be his uh.. his girlfriend.” 

“Then why are you crying? Isn’t that what you wanted?” Lando asks confused. His body is heating up. He can’t handle it if you’re officially Pierre’s. 

“I said no,” you state. This time the words come out a bit calmer. 

“Didn’t he accept that?” Lando questions.

You just nod your head this time. When you think back about Pierre his reaction, you shiver. 

“Want to talk about it?” Lando asks you.

“Later,” you suggest. 

Lando opens his arms for you. It doesn’t take you long before you find your comfortable spot back. You lean on his chest. You’ve missed this. 

“I’ve missed you,” you sob.

“I never left,” Lando states, “I just gave you some space with Pierre.” 

“I don’t want space,” you sigh. 

“What do you want?” Lando asks you confused, “I thought you wanted to date Pierre, so it seemed logical to give you a bit of space while figuring things out with him.”

You don’t think about your answer.

“I want you,” you state. 

When the words leave your mouth, you realize the impact of them. Fuck. What did you just do? This is going to be the moment that you’ll lose Lando. You already feel him straighten up, sitting more straight then before. Slowly you seat yourself different as well. Lando looks in your eyes and you can’t look away. 

“That’s a dangerous thing to say,” Lando replies.

“I can’t unsay it I guess,” you sigh, “This is just great. I fucked up something even more important now.” 

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Lando comforts you, “but you need to explain what happened and what you mean.” 

You sigh again. 

“I told Pierre I didn’t want to date him, I thought our ‘dates’ were friendly. Then he got mad. He started to talk about all the money he spend on me,” you explain slowly, “I told him I could pay him back, but that wasn’t what he wanted. I don’t know what happened, but I do know I lost a friend.” 

“And then I started thinking about you. How I blew you off multiple times because Pierre asked me to do something, I was afraid that I lost you as well.” 

“Pierre’s a dick,” Lando scoffs, “and you can’t lose me. No matter how hard you’ll try, you can’t lose me.”

You let out a couple sobs. Lando pulls you closer to himself again. 

“What do you mean with wanting me?” He asks you.

“Fuck Lan,” you sigh, “I’ve been in love with you for like forever.” 

Lando doesn’t know what he just heard. He asks you again. And again. You keep telling him the truth. 

“Fuck,” he says after a while.

“I’m sorry,” you sob, “I knew telling you was a mistake. Please stay my friend.” 

“Max was right,” Lando says.

You look at him, confused by the deeper meaning behind his words.

“I should have told you,” Lando continues, “Then all of this would never have happened.” 

“Told me what?” You ask confused.

“I’m in love with you,” Lando confesses, “I’ve been for the longest time. That’s why I didn’t like all of your dates, including Pierre.”

Saturday - August 2023

“It always turns me on when you massage me,” Lando confesses. 

You laugh softly. 

“Remember than one time you massaged me?” You ask Lando. He’s quick to nod. “We both have that problem.” 

“Maybe I can massage you again tonight?” Lando suggests. 

“That sounds amazing.”

[asbealthgn]

(the thrilling conclusion. also posted on ao3! here's some art of the kitten i did. part 1, 2, 2.5, 3)

The Corroded Coffin fan base find out about Steve entirely by accident.

It starts, of course, with the kitten. After Eddie’s had her for a few days he decides to make an official post on his Instagram, which is a big deal because he normally just lets his PR people handle posting. All he normally does is post shit to his story, but the kitten deserves more formal recognition than that.

So he picks his favorite pictures of her (his camera roll is filled to the brim at this point) and posts them with the caption meet the light of my life, Lemon Verbena Deathclaw Goblikon Munson (Lemon for short). It’s like kicking a wasp’s nest, but, like, the good version: everyone and their dog shares the post to their stories, edits set to any number of Corroded Coffin’s hit songs are spread across TikTok, coffintwt is in an uproar.

Several hours later, Eddie posts a video to his story. He films Lemon on the couch and asks her, “Miss Lemon, how does it feel to be the best, most famous cat in the world?” She responds by meowing loudly and trying to bite his camera. Steve is sitting on the couch, so part of his thighs end up in the video.

Aside from having great thighs, the odd sliver of Steve’s legs or torso or arms showing up in various photographs and videos that Eddie puts on his story over the next few days does not draw a lot of attention from the Corroded Coffin fanbase. If Eddie were to guess, he would probably say they assume it’s just Eddie or one of his bandmates. It’s not until Eddie posts a video of Lemon trying to climb onto the couch on her own and Steve’s hands make an appearance steadying her that people take notice. More specifically, the Twitter account that’s dedicated to posting close-ups of the members of Corroded Coffin’s hands posts a screenshot of the video with the caption those hands do not belong to our boys.

From there, it becomes a wild source of controversy on Twitter as coffintwt tries to figure out for sure if those hands belong to anyone in the band. There’s a lot of back and forth, but ultimately they seem to agree that the original poster is The Authority on the matter. Then it becomes a game of going back through other pictures of Lemon and trying to figure out if the guy showing up the background of so many of them is also someone outside the band. A lot of screenshots start flying around with captions like none of the corroded boys would wear yellow or the rest of the band other than eddie were in LA when this one was posted and so on and so on. 

A consensus is reached: Eddie has been spending a lot of time with someone not in the band, quite possibly a boyfriend.

On a rainy Tuesday three weeks after they met, Eddie lays back on his couch with Steve laying on his chest and Lemon laying on his chest. “They’re onto you, Stevie,” Eddie says. 

“Who’s onto me?” Steve asks, not looking away from the basketball game on the TV. He’s terminally offline and has been blissfully unaware of the saga unfolding. 

“Twitter,” Eddie explains. “My fans have noticed you in the background in a lot of pictures of Lemon and they’ve started putting the pieces together.”

Steve scratches Lemon under her chin and she purrs happily. “Why are they looking at me instead of her?”

“Hell if I know,” Eddie says, reaching around Steve to rub Lemon’s head. “It’s not like you’re super drop-dead gorgeous or anything.”

Grinning, Steve turns his head to kiss Eddie. “Thanks, baby.”

Before Steve can turn his attention back to the game, Eddie hooks his finger under his chin to keep Steve’s eyes on him. “I have a question for you,” he says, “Well, two questions.”

“What’s up?” Steve asks. 

“First, do you want to be my boyfriend?” Eddie knows that three weeks is kind of ridiculously fast, but Steve has practically moved in already, spending all his free time here and sleeping in Eddie’s bed most nights. So Eddie’s not super worried about what his answer is going to be.

Sure enough, Steve smiles. “Yeah, I do,” he says. He kisses Eddie before asking, “What’s the second question?”

“Well, since you said yes, do you mind if I post something about us to stop the speculation?”

“I don’t mind,” Steve says, “But can I tell Robin first so she finds out from me?”

Eddie nods. “Yeah, of course. Do you want to go ov—?” But oh, Steve is already pulling out his phone and calling Robin. Okay then. 

“Hey, Robbie! Just wanted to let you know that Eddie’s my boyfriend now….No, he wasn’t already….Well, we hadn’t talked about it….Okay, that’s kinda mean….No, it’s okay….Yeah, Lemon is great! Do you want to talk to her?” Steve holds the phone up to the kitten and she bites the microphone. Steve puts the phone back to his ear. “That was her….Okay, I actually have to go. I just wanted to tell you….Bye, love you!”

Steve puts his phone back in his pocket and then grins at Eddie. “Alright, I’m ready.”

“If there’s one thing about you, baby, you’re a go-getter,” Eddie says, laughing. He gets his own phone out and holds it out to take a picture of them. Lemon, who is fascinated by phones, looks up at the camera as he snaps the photo. Perfect. 

Eddie posts the picture with the caption the rumors are true, Lemon has two dads. she gets her looks from Steve’s side. Then he puts his phone down and wraps his arms back around Steve. He can worry about his fans’ reaction later. Right now, he has other plans.

“What do you say, boyfriend?” he murmurs in Steve’s ear. “Should we go put Lemon in the bathtub?”

tagging: @nburkhardt @stargyles @csinnamon-fox @manda-panda-monium @silly-jellyghoty @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @starquirk @lightwoodbanethings @dramaticwriter @adaed5 @freyaforestafay @roaringgoodshow @sherrylyn628 @stevesbipanic @stevethehairington @henderdads @artiststarme @softboisteve @gregre369 @korixae @kokoshka67 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @piningapple @iwouldsail @thesuninyaface @aftermidnightwriting @hamiltonsteele @brassreign @bitchysunflower @homosexual-having-tea @adelicioustragedy @trashpocket @dramaticwriter @eddiemunsonswife @blackpanzy @bitchysunflower @adelicioustragedy @thegingerrapunzel @overhillunderhill @beckkthewreck @glittergluekintsugi @elyondelannoy @somegirlsomewhere @pluto-pepsi @shinekocreator @goodomensgurl @savory-babby @blues-tunes @babyblender @221b1tch

(tagging is having issues so i'll tag the rest in a reply)

[peachymilkandcream]

Fraud | Part 1 | Yandere All Might x Hero!Reader

(A/N: So I decided to start this instead of the Reiner one (which I have some drafts off for the future don't worry. But I'm currently rewatching the show right now so I'm just particularly more inspired by this one. So if/when I do the AOT one I'm not sure. Most likely not for a while unless I feel super inspired by it. And if so I'll probably write it all out and then post it on an additional day once a week. Since I usually post Break Me Slowly on Monday and now this on Tuesday, if I decide to do it I most post it on a Wednesday basis. I'm not sure. Also this won't follow canonical story line! For a little background, reader's hero name is Shade, and their quirk is that they can create shadow copies of their enemies. But thank you for reading and comment to be added to the taglist!)

WARNINGS: implied noncon, dubcon, manipulation, domestic abuse, yandere themes, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, graphic depictions of violence, mind breaking, misogyny, power imbalance, age difference, etc.

==============================================

The world's symbol of peace and justice, a hero for all. Great and mighty. People all across the world knew him, he was the ultimate authority on this planet. Respected and revered.

All Might. The Symbol of Peace.

As a pro, Shade of course respected him above all other heroes, he was the ultimate role model that everyone should look up to and adore. Admittedly that had to do with her desire to become just like him since she was a bit of a fangirl. But regardless, there was nothing so bad about wanting to follow his ideals, was there?

She was determined to meet him one day and make an impression. Hopefully, he would see her talent and invite her to be one of his sidekicks. It wouldn't be totally uncommon, Sir Nighteye was already his right hand man, surely a hero as busy as him could use some more help to keep Japan in its state of reigning peace.

Ever since she was little she dreamed of becoming a pro just like him, she enjoyed watching his battles and keeping up with the news of his latest feats to inspire herself even on her daily commute, who wouldn't want a chance to impress their idol by embodying the same ideals he has?

Besides, her success as a pro was...lacking, to say the least. Her quirk was impressive enough, creating shadows of her enemies and even comrades to fight with her in battle. However the problem lied with the fact that some people believed her quirk seemed rather villainous from outward perspective, apart from some of the teens who enjoyed more intense heroes she had a small fanbase. Most of the ones who did follow her stopped after they discovered her personality didn't match her hero persona at all.

A boost from All Might's agency would really help her brand.

Eventually she could go out more on her own and maybe in form a team with her new found friend and mentor.

"Wake up Shade! Unless you want to be sprayed with acid in the face!?"

On the scene of the crime several pros faced off against a dastardly villain, his quirk was to spew acid from his mouth, and the power of it was disintegrating her shadows. It always seemed like the moment she had a chance to make a name for herself it was against a villain who completely outmatched her quirk type.

"I'm awake, okay? I've got it."

Nothing was able to touch this villain, all hope seemed to be lost until the laugh she had gotten so familiar with filled the air.

"Fear not citizens, hope has arrived!"

An expression of wonder and awe comes across her face when the gust of wind followed by the monstrous form of the Number One Hero steps into the scene.

"Because I am here."

One punch is all it ever took for the criminals to surrender and admit defeat, but this was the first time she had seen him in a professional setting, he was even more amazing then she ever could have believed!

Now was her chance to become a hero just like him.

============================================

"Well done fellow pros, that evil-doer was certainly a heavy hitter, but all of your valiant efforts to keep the peace are much appreciated." His smile never wavered.

"You were amazing All Might, I think I can speak for all of us when we say thank you for saving our butts back there. None of our quirks were really suited for it." Shade's giddy expression never left, truly in awe of the man before her.

"Anytime, but I don't think I've seen you before, still a newbie I take it."

She blushes ever so slightly. "Yes sir, I'm just starting out, my hero name is Shade, it's super nice to meet you-"

"The pleasure is all mine ma'am," His stare was piercing, as if deciding if she really was a hero. "now I must be off, a hero's always got somewhere to be!"

With that he flew off, leaving her behind even more inspired than before.

"He's the most amazing hero in the universe, one day I'll be just like him-"

==============================================

All Might returned to Nighteye religiously pouring over his computer screen, only around his sidekick could the hero's mask fall slightly. His smile disappearing.

"Excellent work on that takedown, your approval rating keeps going up."

"I want you to do something for me. There's a new hero in town, goes by Shade. A newcomer. Find out everything you can about her."

"Why? Another one of your little projects?"

"You could say that."

"All Might this is twice this year now."

"Does that matter? It's not my fault the last ones couldn't handle me."

He rolls his eyes. "I'll find what I can. But go easy this time, alright? I barely was able to cover it up last time."

"Agreed. I'll be more careful."

He shut the door behind him to his personal quarters, staring down at the city below. Being the strongest in the world came with a deep sense of dissatisfaction, he was untouchable, unbreakable.

He needed something to break.

[effortandmore]

tuesday moon | knj (18+)

summary: being “just friends” with kim namjoon sucks

pairing: namjoon x f!reader

rating: explicit (18+ please)

genre: fluff, smut

au: university, co-workers to lovers to friends to lovers again (they're oblivious)

warnings: it's mostly fluff i think. they're oblivious. smut: minors should not be interacting/reading, namjoon has a big dick, a lil praise kink, oral sex (f!receiving), penetrative sex, the usual suspects i think. drinking (but not before they sleep together), tae is into new age jazz... and they were roommates!

word count: 7.7k

a/n: so... i had this dream a couple months ago and couldn't get it out of my head, so here you go. thanks, sleep brain. the title is from a neutral milk hotel song (but tbh the '23 album isn't great). thank you to @ugh-yoongi and @the-boy-meets-evil for reading this over. and then for doing it again when i couldn't even find the mistake you told me was there 🙃

read on ao3

You’ve learned a lot in university—which given how much money you’ve spent to be there is a relief. But amongst business classes and writing workshops and statistics, the most important knowledge you’ve gained is that of small things. 

Of small things and how they can change your life in unbelievably big ways. 

Kim Namjoon isn’t exactly small. But the events that put him right in the middle of your life are. The first day you meet him is a Tuesday. Tuesdays have always been for non-events: for meetings and your least favorite classes… For snagging a coveted dryer on the third floor of the dorm building because Jeongguk saves it for you when he’s finished with his seemingly endless laundry. Tuesdays are for your first real uni friend, Taehyung, to show up to the laundry room unannounced and make you listen to weird new-age jazz on his phone that you hate, but love how much he loves it.

And then your work-study starts. A job in the library is supposed to be easy, has better hours than a lot of the jobs that are available, and pretty much only requires you to understand the Dewey decimal system so you can reshelve things quickly. You can count and read, and those seem to be the only things the head librarian cares about. Cake. 

Your first training day is a Tuesday. It’s a rainy afternoon, and in one of the conference rooms in the back of the law floor are you and three other new employees. Right away, it seems like Yoongi, Hoseok, and Namjoon are already friends. They joke and whisper throughout the orientation videos and absolutely make you feel like a fourth wheel. At your first break, Hoseok extends the invitation for you to sit with them when he notices you still sitting by yourself in the back of the room, and it's then that you learn they for sure already knew each other—music majors and all in the same class even though Yoongi is a little older than the other two. They signed up for all the same work-study assignments hoping they’d be placed together, hoping they could have a chance to work on music during slow times at the slowest work-study assignments. Namjoon, though, who has been quiet the whole time, finally speaks up at this. 

“Well, I also like books,” he says softly, one side of his mouth turned up in a grin. “So, I guess I had an ulterior motive.” 

“Of course you did, Namjoonie,” Hoseok replies. 

Yoongi turns to you, explaining, “Namjoon’s a double major. Smartest guy we know. Literature and music.”

You talk more with them after the ice is broken—Yoongi’s a double major, too, math and music. Hoseok raps and does street dancing in his free time, and around the three of them, you feel like you’re woefully underachieving just at life in general. 

“What about you?” Namjoon prompts after you get some background on all of them. 

“Ah… nothing impressive. Economics major. Just what my parents wanted, you know. But I like books, too. I volunteer at the public library already, but it doesn’t exactly help with tuition.” 

“You volunteer?” Namjoon repeats, looking surprised. 

“Oh, yeah… It’s no big deal. I just read books to kids sometimes.” 

“That’s awesome,” he says, and the look on his face tells you he might actually mean it. Next to him, Yoongi snickers and Hoseok smiles brightly at you. 

“Namjoonie here has wanted to volunteer doing park clean up for a while, but Yoongi and I are always dragging him to the studio on the weekends, so he doesn’t have time.” 

Namjoon shrugs. “It would be nice to feel like I’m helping, I think.” 

“It is,” you agree, sharing a look with him across the table. “The purpose of life is to be useful…” You mumble the quote under your breath, assuming they wouldn’t know what you meant anyway. 

“Emerson?” Namjoon asks. 

“Oh! Uh… yeah, I mean… That’s what people think, but probably not. It’s most likely from a speech someone else gave when they gave Emerson an award, but most people think it’s him—” you cut yourself off when you notice Namjoon’s eyes gone wide.

“Self Reliance is one of my favorites,” he says, leaning forward, excitement playing in his voice. 

“Same! No one ever knows what I’m talking about, but ‘Nothing at last is sacred but the integrity of one’s own mind’ is maybe my whole life philosophy,” you ramble, just happy that someone might finally know what you’re talking about. No one in your economics classes ever shows any interest in philosophy, anyway. Your roommate calls you a nerd every time you bring stuff like this up, and Jeongguk just stares at you with big eyes like he wants to drink every word you're saying but doesn’t understand a drop of it. But Namjoon actually looks… interested in what you’re saying. More than interested, even.

Yoongi elbows Hoseok and smirks. “Namjoon’s in trouble,” he says. 

But before you can ask what that means, the head librarian interrupts to tell you it’s time to get back to training. You have to partner up for training to use the library’s reservation and shelving programs, and Namjoon comes right up to you, grinning shyly, and asks if you want to be his partner while his friends whisper on the other side of the room. You know immediately how this is going to go. Or you think you do, anyway.

And you’re right. By the end of the first week of your work study, you’re in Kim Namjoon’s bed. 

It’s just like it sounds. 

You’re naked, legs bent at the knees and open with his head between them. You noticed his brain first, but it only took that first afternoon to realize that not only was he smart, but stupid hot and kind and sort of funny in the sarcastic way you like, and he seemed to like something about you, too.

On Saturday, you work a slow shift together, both of you using most of the time to catch up on homework, and when it’s over, he asks if you want to come back to his place and keep studying. You agree quickly, but as soon as you get there, you realize you’re both on the same page about being more interested in studying each other than your class work. One thing leads to another, and here you are, moaning into your own palm as he flicks his tongue over your clit in a steady rhythm. 

“Namjoon, I–” You’re pathetic, you think, gasping and barely able to make words come out of your mouth, but fuck if he’s not good at this. Better than you’d thought he would be, actually. He came across as a little on the shy side during work, like he might be one of those guys who needs you to tell him where the clit is. Eager to please, but not quite sure how to go about it. Willing to take direction. 

He is not that.

“Gonna come, baby? You like my tongue that much?” Namjoon lifts his head to ask, and his lips are slick with you and his voice is deep and his fingers just don’t stop moving… It's so much. 

“Yeah, so close…”

At that, Namjoon smirks and ducks his head back down to finish the job. He makes quick work of you, sucking on your clit and twisting one of your nipples with his free hand. The other has two fingers fucking into you in just the right way, just shallow enough to hit your g-spot each time he pushes in. 

The orgasm builds fast, pressure from the inside, pressure from the outside… Everything feels so, so good, and you try to tell him so, but all you can do is whimper through it, clenching your thighs around his ears when you come on his tongue and he tries (bless him) to keep licking your core as your knees shake. 

“Fuck,” you say on an exhale, arm tossed over your own forehead.

“I’m down,” he teases. 

You’re about to say something sarcastic back, but when you lift your arm and look down at him, you lose that train of thought. He looks fucking incredible: flushed, a little sweaty, chin shiny with your orgasm and he’s grinning with those stupid dimples out… How could you not give him everything he wants? Maybe it’s the orgasm talking, the sweet rush of dopamine affecting you when you say, “I want that. Fuck me…” And for emphasis, when he stares at you a little stunned, you add, “Please, Namjoon?” 

He only nods, enthusiastically and a little dopey with it, a little like the boy you saw in the library. But when his cock is out—big… like, really big. Why even have a cock that large, really? What’s even the point of that?—he’s smirking and appropriately (you hope) confident again. 

“That is…” you look down and make a vague gesture in the direction of his dick, which makes him look down, too. 

He shies almost instantly. “Yeah, it’s okay if it’s too much or whatever…”

“No! That’s not what I meant. I just… You look good.” You scoot up so you can have level eye contact. “Want you to fuck me. I can handle it, promise. I want to.” 

Namjoon swallows, visibly nervous, but agrees anyway. 

You knew it would be fine. Any partner who makes sure to tell you you’re beautiful, who makes sure you come first, who pays attention to your body the way he has for the last couple hours is probably going to keep doing that, you decide. And he does. He’s careful, even though you think it might actually be killing him a little to not move once he’s over halfway inside you. He checks in with you, makes sure the consent is still there, and then when you ask him to “actually fuck me, Namjoon… want your cock… all of you,” he does. And he delivers. 

You’re essentially sitting in his lap, his palms spread on your hips as he moves you on his cock and it is… Well, it’s unequivocally the best anyone’s ever fucked you. His lips are on your neck, your breasts, the swell underneath them where they meet your ribcage… He keeps talking to you in his raspy whisper, making sure you feel okay, telling you how good you feel to him. There are times when he gets a little porny, telling you how tight you are (you’re sure a cock that big hasn’t seen anything not tight), and then he says, half out of breath, “Knew you would be a good girl. Knew it from the first time I saw you.” And you didn’t even know you wanted to be a ‘good girl,’ but suddenly you very much do. 

Before he comes, he makes sure you do again, too. His thumb finds your clit and his lips are hot against your ear, whispering filth when you tighten around his cock and shudder in his lap. He’s not far behind you, pulling your hips down when he thrusts into you a little harder, sweat beading on his forehead with the effort. He’s quiet when he comes, just a low moan of your name as he stills under you. 

After, it’s the small things he does that you like. It’s nice that he doesn’t try and move right away, just runs his hands up and down your back—soothing, almost. The closeness is nice, his head resting against your collarbone while you stroke your fingers through his hair. It feels intimate, more than a first time or a one night stand with your coworker should. But neither of you make a move to change that, so maybe it’s alright. 

For now. 

You haven’t exactly been the most social university student, but you know how these things are supposed to go. You clean up, you get dressed, you make awkward small talk about your classes or your work study and then you go your separate ways. You go back to your apartment and you don’t talk about what happened. He might look at you like he knows what’s underneath your hoodie next time you see him, but you know it won’t happen again. That’s not how it works. Not for you, anyway.

Kim Namjoon is a good guy, that you’re sure of. He’s a hard worker, he’s smart, he has lots of friends and hobbies and between that and school and work, you know there’s no way he’s looking for a relationship, and you also know he’s going to do his best to let you down easy if he thinks that’s what you’re after. 

But, he’s your friend. And your co-worker, and the sex was great, so you want to at least spare him the effort of all that. So, when he gets up to dispose of the condom and find a washcloth, you get dressed quietly, pack your textbooks, and do your best to look mostly put together by the time he comes back. 

“So,” you start as he returns to his room, “that was great… Really great, Namjoonie. Thank you.” 

He looks… confused. “You’re thanking me for sex?” 

“I uh… yes?”

Namjoon gives you a dimpled smile with an eyebrow raised, clearly amused. “Okay… Well, you’re welcome, then. And thank you.” He gives you a teasing bow, and with it, you feel a little relief. Because he’s obviously ready to move forward and this can just be a fun thing that happened and you don’t have to make him worry about letting you down, and you don’t have to worry about how much you fucking like him already. You can just be friends. 

The problem, you realize quickly, is that being “just friends” with Kim Namjoon sucks. 

It’s like sending your poor, delusional heart through a cheese grater with each of your work-study shifts. It’s swallowing down every dream of happiness when you have to sit next to him at a party and watch him nod along in agreement as Hoseok tells him how hot the new guy in his dance class is. (The guy is hot, with at least a 6-pack, big, pouty lips, and biceps like cannons. So, even you have to agree they have a point.)

Okay, that’s probably dramatic. Incredibly dramatic according to Taehyung and Jeongguk. Which, honestly, says a lot coming from them. 

So, you do your best to forget your crush and just be cool about everything. You both make a frankly commendable effort to never talk about what happened between you, and after a few weeks, things don’t feel quite so weird. Namjoon’s probably relieved you never mentioned it again, didn’t expect him to be your boyfriend or anything. 

You think you’ve done well. 

At one party, halfway through the semester, you meet Namjoon’s friend, Seokjin. He’s quiet at first, polite with a big smile and a nervous laugh. He sticks close to Yoongi and Namjoon, and it doesn’t take long before he’s being shuttled across the large backyard in your direction. 

“Hi,” he says simply. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” 

“Oh! That’s good… I think?” 

“Yah, Namjoonie here—”

“Well, that was great!” Namjoon interjects. “Glad you two finally met. We’re late for something, though. So, bye!” And then he’s pulling Seokjin behind him through the yard in the opposite direction. It’s so weird. 

In his protests, you’re pretty sure you hear him say, “You’re ridiculous,” to Namjoon. If you were more sober, you would have recognized it as the first small thing that should have tipped you off. 

The second thing happens right before summer break. Your whole group, consisting of your and Namjoon’s friends, are sitting around at lunch discussing everyone’s plans for the summer. Hoseok and Jimin (the hot dancer he wouldn’t shut up about who is now his new boyfriend) are going to a dance clinic on the other side of the country. Jeongguk is going home, promising you he’ll leave you a list of acceptable laundromats in his absence. Seokjin and Taehyung are working—teaching acting classes to teenagers at summer camp. 

Yoongi’s got an internship, so he’ll be around, but barely since it’s in the city and your university is a little outside of town. It’s a long subway trip, so he’s got a sublet up there he’s moving into for the summer months. 

And then it’s Namjoon’s turn. 

“I’m staying. Not on campus, obviously. But I found an apartment and I’m looking for a roommate.” Everyone nods along except Jeongguk, whose eyes dart from Namjoon to you and back several times. 

“What about noona?” he finally says, hooking a thumb in your direction. “She’s staying, too.” 

“Oh, I don’t think—”

“That’s not a bad idea…” 

Namjoon and you look at one another. He’s flushed, and he’s doing that thing he does when he’s nervous where he rubs his throat. 

“I’m sure Namjoon has plenty of people in mind already,” you say, trying to give him the out he clearly wants. 

“Not exactly,” he mumbles. 

“This is perfect!” Seokjin exclaims. “Don’t you think this is perfect, Namjoon?” 

You lean over to whisper to Namjoon, “You don’t have to, it’s really alright.” It feels like you’re making him nervous, you can feel his muscles stiffen where you’re touching his arm, and the flush he was sporting is spreading to his neck now. 

“Would you even want to?” He asks softly.

You’re not sure, actually. It’s already hard work trying to put your stupid crush out of your mind most days. And now, you only see him a few days a week. Your brain (a logical friend) is telling you that living with him will be terrible for your heart. Your heart isn’t as smart and is pounding faster just thinking about spending more time around your crush. Friend, you correct yourself. 

The problem is that only Tae and Jeongguk know about your feelings, and none of them know you and Namjoon have already slept together. So, if you say no, it might be weird. As far as they know, you’re just friends, good friends. Why wouldn’t you want to live with him?

“Yeah,” you reply brightly, swallowing down your nerves, “it’ll be great, Joonie. I can cook and you can help me study for my summer classes.” You’re nodding along as you speak, trying to convince yourself that what you’re saying is true. 

“Okay… sure. Roommates,” he says, looking a little stunned.

“Roommates!”

You stick your hand out to shake his. You’re the least sexy person to have ever existed, you decide, as he laughs and shakes your hand. 

“It was a terrible idea,” you whine into Taehyung’s lap. “He’s just here… all the time. And sometimes…”

“Yeah?”

“Sometimes he doesn’t wear a shirt!” You slump further into your friend, making what you know are pitiful whining noises into his thighs.

It’s not like you’d go as far as saying moving in with Namjoon for the summer was a mistake. But it wasn’t great. Actually, it was really fucking great, and that was the problem. Or part of the problem anyway. 

The apartment is nice—nicer than you’d envisioned when he told you about it. Not too big, but on the corner of the building so you got nice light throughout the day. You each have your own bedroom (thank god) and they aren’t large, but Namjoon gave you the one with the room for a chair by the window, even though you knew he’d been planning to write lyrics there. As promised, you cook for both of you in your small kitchen and Namjoon helps you with your summer classes. 

With all of your friends gone or busy, you two don’t see much of them, and it feels like you build your own little world: late nights listening to the records he brings home, eating simple meals by the window and complaining that you don’t have a balcony, getting dragged out on bike rides when the sun falls and it’s cool enough outside, hunched together on the floor of the living room scrolling webtoons and drinking one too many cheap beers, and the worst (best) of all—falling asleep on the couch together before you wake up with a jolt realizing your head is on him and it’s far, far too much to realize his chest is in your face… so you scramble to your room like a coward and don’t fall back asleep, too keyed up. 

Seokjin, when you do see him, adds in more and more “old married couple” jokes as the summer goes on. He makes fun of your chore lists on the fridge, cutely decorated with whatever doodle has been occupying Namjoon’s mind that week. 

(Jin doesn’t even know that when all the chores are done, you save the little post-it notes, snatching them off the fridge when Namjoon’s not around or not paying attention, and putting them carefully into a little box in your desk drawer with all the other scraps and mementos of your friendship you’ve kept over the almost-year you’ve known him.)

Jin teases you when he lets himself in, late in the mornings, and finds the two of you still asleep, tumbled atop each other on the floor, record-listening session gone too late, the needle still digging into invisible grooves at the center. 

It’s not his fault it doesn’t feel like a joke to you, he doesn’t know that you feel like the 45 and all of the jokes and all of Namjoon’s smiles and all of the little notes he leaves and the way he blushes when you come out of the bathroom in your robe like maybe maybe there’s just a chance you’re not the only one still thinking about that one time… that those are the needles, and you’re here, spinning in place while they poke and prod and dig for a melody that just isn’t there. 

Namjoon, to his credit, is the very definition of a good friend and roommate. He does all the little things. He brings you breakfast sometimes when he’s been out all night and knows you’ll be waking up shortly after he comes home. He cleans, so that even though he’s got so much stuff (endless records and books and figurines and things he just thought were cute), your apartment never feels dirty, just lived-in and homey and a little cluttered. Buys toothpaste when you forget—before you forget, even. Puts your favorite flavor of soju in the fridge every week even though he hates it. 

And it’s not just what he does at home (your home. with him. which you try not to think about because the way the thought makes your heart swell and almost burst is dangerous and confusing, and you hate that you can’t stop thinking about it entirely.) he takes you out, too.  It helps that he’s more social than you: gets you outside in the real world between classes and studying. Makes sure you touch grass. Does stupid dances with you to bad music at worse clubs. Buys you hotteok at 2am because he knows you want it even though you won’t admit it so he says both pieces are for him and lets you argue that it’s bad for his heart and you’re willing to take one off his hands just for the sake of his health… because you care for him. 

You don’t let yourself think about the way it seems like he flushes and his eyes twinkle a little when you say that. It’s got to be in your imagination. 

He doesn’t know that each time he goes out of his way to do something nice for you hurts a little. Doesn’t know that each time he’s a touch too sweet, you wish you’d stayed that one time. Can’t possibly relate to the way you wish that one night turned into a date turned into something more, maybe. 

And you know he can’t relate, because he’s started doing this thing while you’ve been living together: talking about someone. Someone that he likes. 

It’s devastating and you try so hard not to cry on the nights when it comes up. You succeed in never crying in front of him, but if you drip snot onto your pillow trying to hold back your sobs once you’re alone in your room, he doesn’t have to know. 

You don’t know who she is, but you’ve overheard Namjoon on the phone with Yoongi talking about her. She sounds great, if Namjoon’s probably clouded judgment is any indication. He thinks she’s smart and talented, says she sells herself short and he thinks she’s as close to perfect as anyone on the planet. He doesn’t go out without you too often, and you don’t ask where he’s been if he doesn’t offer, but he must be spending time with her because you catch him on a video call with Hoseok saying she can cook and she’s brilliant and she’s everything he’s ever wanted. 

She also sounds like she doesn’t know what she’s got, because Namjoon’s convinced she doesn’t like him back and that she’s out of his league—you finally ascertain that the reason he’s been going to the gym more was because one time she said she thought another guy had nice biceps and he knows they were bigger than his. 

One time, you come home late, catching Tae at a bar near campus after he’s done with classes and drinking a little too much. You’re not drunk, but you’re in that warm space past sober where everything is a little softer and funnier and Namjoon looks dangerously pretty sitting at his desk with headphones on working on a song. 

You plop on his bed, as you do now, and wait for him to notice you’re there. It doesn’t take long. 

“Hey,” he says as he pulls off the headphones. He’s giving you the double-dimple smile, which is especially effective when you’re tipsy like this. Throws you more off-kilter than another cocktail would have. “Have fun with Tae?”

“Hmm… yeah.” You lay back on his bed and don’t let yourself worry about your shirt riding up or your hair spilling around you in a haystack. It’s just Namjoon, and you know he doesn’t think about you like that, know he’s already seen you with more skin showing, hair messier. 

“Need me to get you some water?”

“No,” you sit up on your elbows, “s’okay. Didn’t drink too much. What’re you working on?” 

Namjoon is staring right at you, something indiscernible on his face. He looks almost like he’s in pain or something. “You alright?”

He shakes his head and looks embarrassed. You have no idea why. “Yeah, fine… I’m fine. Just a song, nothing too special.” 

“Can I hear it?” 

“It’s personal… Kind of silly. It’s not done yet… I’m not sure you’d like it,” he says. 

“I like everything you make.” It comes out too honest, you’re not sober enough to hide the tenderness in your voice, to wrap it in something less vulnerable.

There’s no response to that, and you worry you’ve given too much away for a split second before he unplugs his headphones and hits play on the song. And if you thought the sight of him working, bathed in moonlight and neon, was beautiful, this song is truly something else. 

It’s lovely—sweeping melody and building building with layers until it crashes all around you, his voice low and quick, persistent with words of love. It’s a love song disguised as wordplay, or maybe the other way around. It’s him in music: smart and beautiful and selfless and breathtaking… You want to keep it, you want it to be yours, you want the words to be about you or for you or just written with you in the back of his mind. It’s too much, it’s so so beautiful, and you know it’s about her. It’s for her. She’s the one who has his attention and who gets his words and it makes you want to crawl under your blankets and never come out like a petulant child. 

You’re laying down again, so you don’t know what he’s looking at as you listen. When it ends, you’re asking the question even though you don’t want the answer, even though him saying it will make it too real. “Is it about her?” you whisper. 

“Yeah,” he answers, just as quietly. “It’s about her.” 

You sit up quick, make sure you’re turned away from him so he can’t see the tears that are beginning to drip down your cheeks. 

“It’s pretty,” you say as you head toward the door, hopefully not giving yourself away, not looking back in his direction. “Really pretty. She’s lucky, Namjoonie.” 

You don’t see the confusion on his face as your bedroom door closes behind you. You don’t hear him tell you goodnight in a small, concerned voice. 

After song-gate, you do your best to put a brave face on and move forward. It’s more for him than you, you have to tell yourself. Because you, your heart, you don’t want to let him go, can’t stand the idea of watching him be happy with someone else. But you, Kim Namjoon’s best friend, you want nothing more than for him to be happy, even if it’s not with you. And it’s hard, but for the most part, you let that version of you win. 

You give him broad smiles and you keep not asking where he’s going when he leaves without you. You try really hard not to overhear his calls with Hoseok and Yoongi and when you do, you give him a ridiculous double-thumbs up and tell him to go for it, that she’d be a fool to turn him down. You’re pretty sure you’re the only one who ends up looking foolish in that moment though, even if you really, truly mean it. 

One day (of course it’s a Tuesday), you come home from class, and you’re sorting through the mail when you spot a card on the counter that wasn’t there in the morning. Namjoon must’ve left it when he came home, you can hear the shower running from down the hall. It’s rare he beats you home on Tuesdays, always saying he’s got “something” to do “across town” and you just assume it’s with her, so you don’t ask. 

But what’s more interesting than him being home early is what the card is: a temporary driver license issued to one Kim Namjoon. It’s got a picture of him, dimples out and glasses on, dated that day. You hadn’t even known he’d taken the class or the tests. You wonder why he wouldn’t tell you… It’s a big deal to him—he’d always said he didn’t need it, liked taking the bus and the metro. Thought cars were bad for the planet and that there were too many of them in the city anyway. But here’s the card, proof that for some reason he thought it was time for a change. 

“Oh! You… I didn’t mean for you to find that…” 

You look up. Namjoon’s standing by the couch, watching you examine his license, wrapped in a towel because if there’s a god, he only wants you to suffer. 

“You got your license?”

“Ah… the temporary one, yeah. Still need to take the road test.” 

He seems nervous, fidgeting with the blanket on the back of the sofa. You don’t know why he’d be nervous, it’s cool, you think. One more thing to add to the seemingly endless list of things Namjoon can do. 

“Proud of you, Namjoonie. But… why? I thought you didn’t want to drive.” 

He shrugs. “Don’t really, but… I just thought… Well, I thought if I got up the nerve to ask someone on a date, it would be nice to drive her. Just once or twice. Make it special, I guess. It’s probably stupid, but I thought y—” He cuts himself off and pauses. Looks out the window and scrunches his forehead up like he’s scolding himself. “I thought she might like that,” he says, finally. 

“Did she tell you to get a license?” You’re sure you sound as outraged as you feel when you ask. 

“No! She wouldn’t… No. I just wanted to try.” 

“Okay. Okay, good. You shouldn’t change yourself for anyone, Joonie.” And then you do that thing again, where you say too much, where it comes out too fond. “You’re more than enough just the way you are. If she doesn’t know that, she’s not good enough for you.” 

Namjoon smiles softly. “I’m starting to think she does,” he says. 

And the look on his face… It’s happiness and warmth and fuck you wish it was for you. Those nagging feelings of wanting more more more from him are welling up in your chest. “Good,” you say, still too tender as you set the card in his palm and scoot past him to your room, mail forgotten. “That’s the very least of what you deserve.” 

Later that night, you’ve tucked the soft and vulnerable parts of you back inside, showered, ordered food, and sent Namjoon down to pick it up with a stop at the convenience store for soju and beer. You can do this, you tell yourself in the mirror, psyching yourself up for the first time you both will hang out with all your friends in months.

The summer is drawing to an end. Seokjin and Taehyung are done teaching, Jimin and Hoseok got back over the weekend, Yoongi’s internship ended the week prior, and Jeongguk is back from his visit home, everyone returning in time to buy books and settle in for the new semester. 

You and Namjoon have decided to keep the apartment: close enough to campus, affordable enough, and you both bashfully agreed you liked living together, an arrangement sealed with the secret handshake greeting from a drama you’d watched together over the summer. So, you have the biggest apartment out of all your friends (which doesn’t say much), and they’ve all decided in your group chat that the group “welcome home” party would take place in your living room. 

Seokjin and Taehyung arrive first, Jeongguk in tow. They’re pouring through your door play-fighting and laughing and for a minute, you forget your crush on your roommate, you forget he’s pining after someone else, and you just feel so much joy that your friends are back as they pull you into a crushing group hug. 

“We brought wine,” Seokjin says. 

“Ew!” (A twin chorus from you and Jeongguk). 

“Fine, you two have your cheap soju and leave the good stuff for the rest of us.”

“Hyung, that bottle was only six—”

“Shh! Have some respect!” Seokjin says, slapping in the air in Tae’s general direction. 

They file into the kitchen to drop off snacks and cheap wine while you leave to dig around in Namjoon’s room for some records to play. It’s a hassle, finding enough that you like and then having to flip them every fifteen minutes, so you finally give up and resign yourself to just playing a playlist off your phone. Or anyone’s phone except Taehyung’s anyway, because “experimental jazz night” was not a hit last time he suckered you all into it. 

When you come back down the hall, your kitchen is suspiciously quiet. There is whispering and you can’t hear what they’re saying but you know anytime Jeongguk and Seokjin are colluding that it means trouble. 

“What’s going on in here?” You ask as you make it back to the kitchen. 

The three of them are reading the notes on your fridge and they all hop around immediately. Jeongguk and Taehyung have the decency to look guilty, but Seokjin just looks like he’s unearthed the lost city or something. 

“What are these?” he asks, eyebrow raised. 

“Our shopping list? Chore list?”

Seokjin grins. “No, not those… These.” He plucks a sticky off the fridge and starts reading it aloud. 

“...And greet the all auspicious day,

Whose privilege permits my song—”

You can feel your face like a wildfire, hot and persistent, as you snatch the piece of paper out of his hand and tuck it in your pocket.

“That’s nothing. Just a poem” 

“That’s not nothing, that’s a love poem.” 

“We just leave each other quotes sometimes,” you mutter, fussing around the kitchen, opening the bags of snacks and setting them on the counter. “It’s no big deal. Just a small thing.” 

Jeongguk looks at you with wide eyes. “And you sometimes leave each other love poems?” he asks cautiously. 

“I guess… It’s whatever,” you say. 

“What’s whatever?” Hoseok’s bright voice drifts into the room. You snap your head up to see that he’s with Jimin, and they’re followed in by Yoongi and Namjoon, carrying all the food and drinks. 

“Namjoon hyung and Noona leave each other love notes on the fridge!” Jeongguk says brightly. “It’s so cute.” 

Your jaw actually drops, and you see in your periphery, Namjoon’s is doing the same. 

“They’re not love notes!” You protest. 

“They’re poems,” Namjoon adds with indignance.

“Besides,” you add, “he’s got a girlfriend or whatever.” You know you sound a little annoyed, and you don’t want to, but it’s worth it if it gets them off your backs. 

“Wait, what?” Yoongi finally joins the conversation, peeking his head around the corner into the kitchen. 

Six pairs of eyes are on you, and one (Namjoon’s) is anywhere but. You get the offputting feeling that something is happening, but you don’t know what. That the boys staring at you know something you don’t. 

“Namjoonie… He’s got a girl he likes. So, they’re not love notes. They’re just quotes we like.” 

Yoongi stares at you like he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing, and then Hoseok says, “Oh my god, they are that bad.” 

Seokjin nods. “The worst, actually.” 

“What? What is going on?” You ask. The question is directed at anyone, but you’re looking straight at Namjoon, who still won’t look at you. 

“I’m just gonna open some soju,” Jimin says. “Come on, guys.” 

The statement is clearly directed at Seokjin, Taehyung, and Jeongguk, who are all still huddled by the fridge, clearly amused at whatever is unfolding in your kitchen. One by one, they file out. Namjoon tries to follow them, but Yoongi unceremoniously shoves him back into the kitchen with a hissed, “I don’t think so, Namjoon.” 

“I’m so confused,” you say quietly. Namjoon finally lifts his gaze to meet yours, and he looks so so nervous. Just like the day you’d agreed to be roommates. You have no idea why, because you’d never do anything to make him feel that way, not on purpose. “Is this about her? I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have—” 

“No! I mean… yeah, it’s about her. Or you, I guess?”

“Me?”

Namjoon nods. He takes a deep breath and shoves his hands in his pockets. “You. You and her.” 

“I don’t even know her, Namjoonie.”

He sighs. “You are her.” 

You’re every meme of confused people trying to do math. You think you probably have a literal question mark above your head. You think you heard him right but… but there’s no way that it’s what he meant.

“What?”

Namjoon looks like it’s almost painful to keep speaking, also a little apologetic. “I like you,” he says, shrugging. “I like you so much, and I’m a dick for agreeing to be your roommate when I felt that way, and I thought after that one time… Well, I thought maybe you needed more and that’s why it never happened again, so I started going to the gym more and trying to… I don’t know. Be more?” He runs a hand through his hair and slumps against the counter. “I just like you so much and I wanted you to like me, too. But I—”

“You like me?”

“Oh, fuck, so much.” It’s almost out like a breath, floats through the space between the two of you, waves itself in front of your face. 

“That’s why you thought it would be weird to be roommates…” you say, pieces clicking together. 

“Yeah,” Namjoon agrees. “And why I tried to get biceps like Jimin and why I leave you love notes on the fridge, and why I wrote you a whole song about how incredible you are, how you make me feel, and how much I want you even though you don’t want me back…” 

“Biceps like Jimin?” 

“You said they were nice…” 

“Oh my god.” Little details of the past few months since you slept together all start floating around in your head and you see it so clearly now, it all starts to make sense, all the silly little things Namjoon does for you because it’s you, because he likes you… and oh no…

“Namjoon.” 

“Yeah?” He’s painfully cute like this—nervous and a little shy, hair falling into his eyes like it can protect him from looking right at you. 

You take a couple of steps closer to him. “I like you, too.” 

“You what?” 

“I like you, too. Just the way you are. I like all the nice small things you do for me, I like how you think, I like how you smell like soap all the time ‘cause you take a million showers… I like living with you… I like your records and your books and… And it’s stupid probably, but I save all your doodles like a teenager would ‘cause I just like you so fucking much… And I’m the bad friend, the one who moved in with you even though I liked you like this. I thought I would get over it.  I thought… I don’t know. I thought after we slept together you just wanted to be friends, so I’ve been trying so hard, but…”

“It’s awful,” he says, a giant grin on his face as he watches you stumble through your confession. “I thought you just wanted to be friends, too. You left before I could ask you to stay.” 

“Yeah, it is awful. Liked you since that first day in the library.” 

“Fuck, me too. We’re so ridiculous.” 

“Jin was right, we’re the worst,” you whisper. 

“You are!” You hear Jin call from the living room.

You let your head fall forward and bury it in Namjoon’s chest as he wraps an arm (with a perfectly sized bicep, you note, reminding yourself to tell him later) around you and laughs into your hair. 

“You’re listening to us?” you protest. 

“Hard not to,” Yoongi answers, “small apartment.” 

“You fucked?!” Hoseok yells.  

“Oh my god,” you moan into Namjoon’s shirt. 

“I bet they made love,” you hear a dreamy-voiced Jimin chime in.

You can feel Namjoon’s laugh rumble through his chest against your ear. It’s the best feeling you’ve felt in months. 

“So,” you start, pulling your head off his chest, but letting him slide his arm down yours until you’re loosely holding hands. “What now?” 

“Well, we should probably talk.” 

You peek around him to see your friends all staring at you. “Maybe later?” you ask. 

“Later is good.” Namjoon smiles so so big. You love knowing that you’re the one making him feel happy, you think you’re a little ridiculous for being jealous of some other non-existent girl this whole time.

“We like each other,” you say, still a little in shock. 

“We do.”��

Then, because you’re you, and you have not ever once been cool in front of Kim Namjoon, you lift your palm up. And because he’s him, and now you know he probably thinks he has never once been cool around you, he gives you a high five, his palm connecting with yours and then lingering there while you look at each other and you try not to lift up on your toes and kiss the shit out of him. 

“Did they just high five?” Hoseok asks, incredulous. 

“They’re so weird. Do you remember when they shook hands on being roommates when it was so obvious they wanted to jump each other on the couch? They probably kissed no tongue and called it sex,” Seokjin says, unhelpfully. 

“Hey!” you shout. “We can hear you!” 

“The sex was really great, for your information,” Namjoon says, and your face heats immediately. 

“It was,” you agree, if for no other reason than it really really was. And you want to make Seokjin as uncomfortable as possible. “Namjoon really knows wh—”

“This is going to be even worse than them being oblivious, isn’t it?” Yoongi asks no one in particular, cutting you off.

But that night after your friends leave, and you do get the chance to kiss Namjoon again, who is now not only your roommate, but your boyfriend, you know Yoongi couldn’t have been more wrong. This is infinitely better than being oblivious to Namjoon's feelings.

“What do you see in me?” he says into the ceiling, sweaty and a little hazy post-orgasm, after you’d made sure to seal your new arrangement properly. No high fives, no handshakes, just long kisses and nervous touches turning more sure, Namjoon making sure to whisper into your skin how much he cares for you, how sexy he thinks you are, how long he’s waited to have you again like this… 

(And you returning those words, moving your hips in slow circles in his lap, fingernails trailing across his shoulders as you tell him how good he is, how gorgeous he looks, how his biceps are the exact right size for you to squeeze—which makes him laugh while he fucks you, and if that’s not the best thing you’ll ever see in your life, you’re not sure what is...)

You lace your fingers with his and turn to him, thinking about all the things you love about him, how all those pieces layer together to make something so big that it seems to take up your whole heart. “I like all the small things that make you, you.” 

And he kisses you as a reply, lips soft and sweet on yours, and you decide that from now on, Tuesdays are for kissing your boyfriend in the moonlight and making sure he knows exactly how much you like him so that neither of you are ever unsure again. 

[stevesbestgirl]

Phases of the Moon - Part 2

Steven Grant x f!Reader, eventual Marc Spector x f!Reader

2909 words

Warnings: minor angst, mutual pining, idiots in love, Donna being a big meanie, mentions of reader’s face “flushing,”

As always, keep in mind that I am not a system and am not an expert. All of my information about their relationship comes from the Moon Knight show and I use that as my reference point.

*Bold type is spoken by Marc when Steven is fronting.*

Masterlist

Tuesday evening, your phone buzzed, “2609 minutes, from right now. - Steven.” You suspected he’d been waiting until he finished his shift to work it out. He’d also signed his name on the text, which you found to be rather cute. 

When Thursday came, you took a little bit of extra time in the morning. You hadn’t meant to, but you were fiddling with your hair and changing outfits when you realized what you were doing and forced yourself to leave it all be. And sure enough, when you approached the gift shop counter, Steven lit up, just as he had two days before. 

You made your way up to the counter, “Alright, how many minutes now?”

He made a show of checking his watch, “About two and maybe a half.” He gave you a shy smile, “You look pretty today.”

“Prettier than Tuesday?” you teased.

“Well, I thought you looked pretty Tuesday too, but I chickened out on saying it, didn’t I?” That rosy flush you were growing to like so much crept up his cheeks.

“Thanks, Steven.”

“Well, shouldn’t I be thanking you?” 

Now it was your turn to flush; you’d never met someone who could flip-flop so seamlessly between bumbling awkwardness and earnest charm.

But you were saved by the bell- Steven had an alarm set on his phone. He quickly silenced it, “There we are. You ready, love? We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.” The way your heart skipped in your chest at the term of endearment again made it clear that you were not immune- at least, not to Steven. But you nodded your agreement as he came out from behind the counter and led the way back to the exhibit.

This time, it was harder to focus on the words Steven was saying- all you wanted to do was watch him talk. The way he tilted his head when he was searching for the right word, the way his pitch rose when he was building up to something he found particularly interesting- but it was really his hands that did you in. 

They waved around while he spoke, accenting explanations, pointing out details in each display, and making quirky little gestures to accent his points. You felt like your gaze was following them and you found yourself wondering what it would feel like to slide your fingers between his. Your stomach dropped at the thought and you hastily pulled your gaze back to his face, using all of your willpower to listen. 

Too soon, the little alarm on his phone was sounding again, “Looks like I’ve gone on a bit too long again, haven’t I? We’ve only just started on the pharaohs.”

You walked with him back to the gift shop, “When is your next shift?”

He grimaced, “Donna has me on the late shift for inventory tomorrow night. And you’re probably busy on Saturday-”

“I’m not, actually. Are you working?” He nodded blankly. “I’m happy to stop by again. Unless that’s inconvenient for you, I’m sure Saturdays are busy-”

“Saturday is perfect,” he insisted. I actually get off at two, if you wanted to come by ‘round then." That was not true. Steven didn't work Saturday at all, but he continued anyway, "I can give you a proper tour.” 

Your stomach twisted and you weren’t sure if it was with excitement or anxiety; this had become a full-blown date in a matter of moments. And you wanted to go.

Despite all of your common sense telling you to back off now before it was too late, you smiled, “That sounds great.” You pulled out your phone, “I’ll put it in my calendar.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” he dug into his bag on the other side of the counter, “I brought you something.” He pulled out a box and handed it to you; it was a new screen protector. “I’m not sure if I got the right one, but I sort of had to guess. It was such a sweet gesture that you were struck dumb for a moment, staring at the box in your hands. It was, in fact, not the right kind, but you weren’t about to tell Steven that. “Thank you, Steven. This is- that was really nice.” 

You tried to keep your voice even; it shouldn’t be a big deal. It wasn’t like you could tell Steven that this was the first time in a very long time you could remember someone doing something so thoughtful for you. 

“Well, I felt bad, y’know?”

This was the part where you were supposed to respond with something grateful and vaguely funny, but you couldn’t seem to find anything to say. Every combination of words you strung together sounded too raw- too emotional at a simple thoughtful gesture.

“Oi, Stevie,” Donna’s voice cut through the pause, “I’m not paying you to stand around and flirt with your girlfriend, am I?” Both you and Steven went stiff. Donna continued, “You could be stocking those new figurines.”

“I will, yeah- right now,” Steven said quickly. “And it’s Steven,” he corrected, though his tone was tired- this clearly wasn’t the first reminder. He knelt, pulling out a box of vaguely humanoid figures, lining them up half-heartedly on the counter until Donna disappeared. “Sorry about that,” he gave a nervous chuckle. “She shouldn’t have called you-”

“Don’t worry about it,” you offered a tight-lipped smile, beating back the feeling in your stomach that wanted to hear you called Steven’s girlfriend again. It was suddenly like you were twelve again. You wanted to make things light-hearted again, so you teased, “Not a fan of ‘Stevie,’ then?”

He half-smiled, “S’not so bad when you say it, to be honest. But it makes me think of Donna.”

“Maybe I can steal it from her, make you think of me instead,” you offered.

He laughed, “You could try, but I’m not convinced it can be done.”

You knew it was a silly thing. And maybe you just wanted to feel special to Steven. But it seemed like every time Donna spoke to Steven- or about him- she was dismissive and rude and you didn’t like it. But any reasonable person would feel that way. It had nothing to do with the little furrow lines that appeared on his forehead whenever she came around. “Sorry to keep getting you in trouble.”

“Don’t be,” he insisted, that adorable earnestness returning. “If I wasn’t doing anything wrong, I suspect she’d be upset at the way I breathe or somethin’. Besides, I can’t think of a much better reason to get in trouble.” At that, he grinned and your resolve melted into a puddle at your feet. 

You smiled back, “Well, for what it’s worth, I think the way you breathe is fine.” He checked over your shoulder again and you grimaced, “Did she come back?”

“Nah, not yet, but she might. She does that sometimes.”

“Well, I’ll go, so you don’t get scolded any more. And I’ll see you Saturday.”

*

"Sounds like someone has a date," Dalton teased over the morning paper. 

"I thought the same," Mandy agreed, sipping her coffee with a sly smirk.

"It's not a date." You were lying. But you didn't really want to dive into detail about how you'd folded on your principles less than a week after arriving with your cousin and his wife. 

"He's staying late at work to give her a tour," Dalton noted, gaining an appreciative hum from Mandy, although that may have been a response to her coffee. Dalton murmured low, "He also bought her a phone case, you know."

"Gift giving means it's a date," Mandy nodded.

"It was a screen protector," you replied. "If I'm going to be teased, at least be accurate about it, will you?" They didn’t even know that you’d had to go buy a new one that would actually fit your phone so Steven wouldn’t know he got the wrong kind.

"Oh, fine. The point stands regardless. You've got a date tonight."

You huffed; there was no point in arguing. And they were right; it was a date.

You were at least spared the struggle of deciding whether to dress up or not; Steven would be fresh off his shift, so probably would be wearing khakis, a button up, and that jacket he seemed so fond of. You opted for a casual dress and arrived at the museum a little early- you liked chatting with him at the counter before starting the tour. 

It was only quarter til two, but there was a new face at the gift shop; a young woman who didn’t yet appear out of her twenties. Her name tag read, “Denise.” You offered a friendly smile, “Have I missed Steven already?” The girl looked confused. “Um,” you didn’t even know his last name, “About this tall, curly brown hair-”

“I know Steven, but he doesn’t work today,” the girl finally said. You were almost glad when she cut you off because your next item to list was lovely, expressive, brown eyes and that probably would have been a bit much.

But now you were confused, “He said he was off at two.”

Denise shook her head, “That’s my shift this week.”

You forced a smile, “Guess I got my wires crossed somehow. Thanks.”

You took a seat on a nearby bench. Steven could still show- you were pretty sure you hadn’t misunderstood. You found it hard to believe he would stand you up, so you hoped it was just a miscommunication. 

At eight minutes til two, Steven came in, bustling over to the counter. He said something you couldn’t make out to Denise and you watched her tilt her chin in your direction. Steven whipped around, doing an odd sort of jog across the room. You stood to meet him and Steven’s gaze followed the skirt of your dress as it fluttered back into place. 

Unconsciously, it seemed, his tongue poked out between his lips to wet them before he spoke, “You look- I mean, wow-”

Your slight apprehension couldn’t stop a faint smile at his reaction, “It’s just a dress, Steven.”

He nodded, “Right, yeah.” His cheeks glowed with warmth, “You look nice, is all.”

“Thanks.” It was difficult to believe he’d intentionally mislead you when he reacted that way, but you had to ask. “So, um, you don’t work today?”

The flush on his cheeks crept toward his neck, “Right, yes. I didn’t think you’d get here so early and-” 

“So you lied?” You cursed internally; you’d wanted to sound aloof- maybe vaguely curious, but a hint of hurt made it into your tone.”

“I, ah- well, I wanted to see you again and you asked if I was working- I thought you might not want to do it if I wasn’t here for work because then you might’ve thought I was asking you out-” 

Steven was rambling a bit, but it faded to background as you focused on keeping your expression even. Don’t break eye contact. Don’t look disappointed. Don’t fidget. It’s not a date. That’s okay.

“You alright, love?” Your heart gave a halfhearted flip in your chest, disappointment cushioning your capacity for excitement. “I’m sorry, it was a pretty boneheaded move.” He knocked his knuckles against his forehead in mock punishment, “I guess I panicked a little.”

You nodded, “Yeah, I’m fine. I’d just rather you tell me the truth next time, alright?” That was true. And a perfectly believable response. 

“Yeah, right, of course- I really am sorry,” he insisted.

You knew you should be more upset at him lying- no matter how minor- than about the way you’d foolishly thought this was a date, but you couldn’t seem to muster any indignation toward a man who’d gone out of his way to make sure you didn’t feel uncomfortable. And the strangest thing was that you were still looking forward to it. You wanted to listen to Steven- to share that secret again.

You forced a smile, “It’s alright. You want to get started?”

He grinned, “Yeah, of course, let’s get a move on then, shall we?”

And even though it wasn’t a date, Steven didn’t waver in the way he made you feel like the most important person on the planet. You felt a bit less bad about your misunderstanding; how could you have thought he wasn’t interested when he spoke to you with such enthusiasm. It was as though you were the only person he wanted to be speaking to at this moment. 

The museum was far more crowded than it had been during the week; a few children and parents were hovering around Steven, listening with you. But his eyes remained on you, the secret still yours alone. 

He showed you a map of the inside of a tomb, pointing out the different sections and trap locations, despite none of that being on the map. “Can you guess where the pharaoh is housed?”

You hummed like you were considering it, before pointing, “In the point of the pyramid, duh.” 

“I think it’d be a bit cramped in there, yeah?”

“Right, because it’s so roomy inside a sarcophagus,” you countered.

“Alright, you’ve got me there.” He wrapped his hand around yours, gently moving you, “But he’ll actually be in here.” You weren’t entirely sure what he was pointing at, if you were being honest. You couldn’t pry your gaze away from the way his fingers draped over the back of your hand. He moved, drawing your finger in a small circle, “You see how the traps are more concentrated around here?”

You nodded, “Yeah, makes sense.” 

Steven realized he was still holding your hand, releasing you and taking a half a step back, his palms suddenly sweaty. God, he hoped he hadn’t been this sweaty when he’d been touching you. 

Two hours after you’d started, you finished the east wing of the museum. Your small crowd of hangers-on dispersed, leaving you and Steven by the wing’s entrance. You could see Donna at the front desk at the center of the entryway.

“What did you think?” Steven was looking at you expectantly.

“You can expect my Yelp review on the museum’s page later this evening,” you smiled slyly. When he looked a bit worried, you laughed, “It was fantastic, Steven. Can I pay you to do the rest for me? I’d be missing out if I didn’t get the full experience.”

He looked rather pleased, a faint glow returning to his cheeks, “You know I’d do it free.” Maybe this hadn’t been a date, but he certainly acted interested in you, you were sure of it now.

“You should be getting paid for this, Steven. You were great.” You checked the time on your phone, “I suppose I should let you go though, it’s about dinner time.” A perfectly reasonable observation, you thought. If Steven used it to ask you out to dinner, that would be his choice.

There was a moment’s pause too long, “Right, I shouldn’t keep you too late, should I?”

You supposed you set yourself up for that one. You gave a wry smile, “Yeah, I should probably be getting back. Thanks for the tour, Steven.”

“Really, it’s no problem- I think I had more fun than anyone,” he chuckled. 

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” 

You offered him a smile; you didn’t understand why it was so hard for you to stay sad about Steven. He seemed to pick you back up as quickly as he knocked you down. He was either the most oblivious man on the planet or he was a top tier manipulator. You had a difficult time believing the latter. 

You took a step away; you needed some space to clear your head, “Bye, Steven.”

He seemed surprised by the prompt exit; usually you chatted for a bit after, “Oh- laters, gators!”

You suppressed a smile- he was definitely oblivious to how charming you found him. You offered a small wave goodbye and headed for the door.

Once you were out of earshot, Marc spoke up in the display glass, “You could have asked her to dinner.”

“I wanted to,” Steven defended. “I really wanted to, but I don’t wanna scare her away.”

“Steven, you’re going to blow this if you don’t listen-”

“Stevie, take these to the basement for me, will you?” Donna caught Steven off guard, brandishing a box of sweets.

Steven sidestepped her, “Sorry Donna, I’m not scheduled today.”

She looked annoyed, “Then what are you doing here on your day off? Just here to stand in the way?”

“Actually, I was here with a friend,” Steven countered, a measure of pride in his voice.

Donna raised an eyebrow, “You mean that pretty thing who keeps coming in to flirt with you for whatever reason? I take it you blew it then.”

Steven’s brow furrowed, “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

“Who’s everyone?”

Steven sighed, “Never mind. Why’d you say that?”

“She just left, a bit put out if you ask me. I thought she’d come in looking for you- looked a bit disappointed.”

“She looked- disappointed?” Steven repeated Donna’s wording like he wasn’t sure he’d heard her right.

Donna rolled her eyes, “Well, no wonder she did. If you aren’t here to work, stay out of the way, will you?” She brushed by him and he glanced at the entrance, half-hoping you’d still be in sight so he could find out for himself.

[ch3rrysuck3r]

need more eddie roundtree fics on this website i’ll take anything from light smut to tooth-rotting fluff but please

OF COURSE DARLING!! your wishes r my commands. I've got a few requests for him, as soon as I get those out there's Eddie content for u guys!!

FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF cause my man is not happy enough tbh. (Don't worry tho, i have some smut requests i hope I get out this week!!)

ALSO, lets pretend Cami and Eddie never slept together, for the sake of their happiness. Eddie's hate for Billy simply comes from feeling like a second class citizen in a first class resort, like in the book!

Forever here, with you

Y/N Roundtree: Look, I love you. But I hated Billy. I say 'hated' because I haven't seen him in years, but, he was a proper asshole. I hope he's honest about that. You have no idea how many times I've had to keep Eddie from killing him.

Eddie Roundtree: He would be dead, probably, if it wasn't by Y/N. I think she might've been the one think that kept me grounded during the band. That kept it going for me. (Pause) Actually, no, I don't think. I know.

—————————

The band is playing in Las Vegas, for a sold out venue. It's one of their first shows for the tour, but so far, it's been going great.

The River is coming to an end, which means also is the show. As the final note plays, Billy is quick to thank the fans and leave stage, everyone following behind.

I start making my way to the back, where I'll be taken backstage. I finally reach the band once I'm out of the ocean of sweaty bodies and past security. As I make my way towards Eddie, I see Billy saying something to him and storming off. I can see Eddie's face from here, and he doesn't seem to be very happy. He is not angry, either, as he usually is after arguments with Billy.

"Hey!" I greet once I reach him, and his face lights up a little.

"Hey, gorgeous." His arms lift me up and spin me around, hugging me as tight as they can.

"Everything alright, Ed?"

He sighs deeply and rubs my arm. "Let's go back to the hotel, please?"

"Of course."

The hotel isn't that far away and the band was probably going to hang out backstage for a few more hours, so we decided to walk. It is a starry Tuesday night and the streets are not as busy. The shiny signs are enough to light the sidewalks. It's a silent walk. I know he's got things to say but I also know that any problem between him and Billy is too bad to talk about in public.

It doesn't take long to reach the Las Vegas Hilton, the receptionist greets us and I offer him a small smile. Eddie and I go into the elevator, hand in hand, and soon reach the comfort of our room.

I lay in bed and he needily cradles my body and sets himself on top of it, wrapping me in a bear hug. I run my fingers through his sweaty hair, feeling his chest rise and fall steadily.

"He didn't let me change some notes on the bass"

I sadden at the thought, knowing how sad this type of thing actually makes him feel. I try my best to comfort him with my actions as I think about something to say.

"He is an idiot."

He laughs against my neck and I smile a little.

"Okay, but actually; I know he gets to you and you have every reason to be as mad as you are. But you love the band, Eddie. And they need you. I am here for you, whenever and forever, you know that."

"I love you." He rasps onto my ear, lifting his head and pecking my lips. He holds both my arms against the headboard with a hand and keeps filling my face with quick kisses. I laugh andbfeel his lips against my teeth.

He abruptly stops and looks at me, in all seriousness.

"Marry me?"

—————————

Y/N: "What?!" (Laughs) I didn't know if he was being serious or not.

Eddie: Of course I was being serious. I knew I wanted to marry that woman the day I met her. I just had to wait for long enough to not seem a weirdo.

—————————

"Marry me?" He repeats the question with a laugh. My eyes water and I hug him. "Is that a 'yes'?"

"Of course it is a 'yes'."

"Great, let's go."

"Right now?!" He shoots me his million dollar smile.

"Of course right now, I can't wait to marry you."

I blush at the comment and make my way towards my suitcase, busting it open to look for something that may work like wedding attire.

"You do that, I'll go call Warren."

"Can you ring up Karen and Daisy for me, please?"

"Of course darling." He walks behind my body that seats on the floor. His hand grabs my neck, turning upwards my head and leaning down to give my lips a quick peck before leaving the room to look for a telephone booth.

I decide to wear a silver, long-sleeved dress. It's transparent enough you can see the outline of what's underneath, but I doubt it will matter. It reaches mid-thigh and is loose on my shoulders. I keep on the black boots I'm wearing and apply a bit of gloss to my lips. I see Eddie come back into the room in a forest green suit, no shirt underneath.

We both admire each other quietly. He clears his throat, eyes not leaving my body. I don't intend to peel mine off of his either.

"Warren was in his room, he let me borrow this so he's walking with us. Daisy and Karen are on their way to the chapel right now, they are taking Graham with them."

I thank him with a quick smile and kiss.

—————————

Warren Rojas: I don't remember much of that wedding, either. I know it didn't take us long to arrive to the chapel, tho. It was one of those classic ones in Las Vegas.

Karen Sirko: It was a beautiful chapel, very traditionally Vegas.

Graham Dunne: I remember Elvis Presley married them. (Laughs) Not actually him, you know. He'd pass a little less than a year before...great man.

Daisy Jones: I...don't remember much. (Laughs) I spent most of after the shows getting high and drunk. But I do remember that, once they said 'I do', Eddie picked her up in his arms and ran to the hotel, that was a few buildings down the street. We all ran behind them, screaming and popping champagne.

—————————

"Eddie Roundtree, do you take Y/N L/N to be your unlawfully wedded wife? To love, cherish and respect 'till the end?"

He grins at me and I do the same. "I do."

"Y/N L/N, so you take Eddie Roundtree to be your unlawfully wedded husband? To love, cherish and respect 'till the end?"

"I do."

"Then by the power given to me five minutes ago by this cheap chapel, I pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Roundtree. You may kiss the bride; I've got to attend another one of this."

We laugh and then kiss, cheers erupt from our drunk friends that stand besides us.

—————————

Billy Dunne: No, I was not invited to the wedding. I also couldn't care less, honestly. I always knew Eddie had something against me, I just payed no mind. I never had anything against him, I always tried to make him happy.

Eddie: We did actually get married, by the way. After the band split up an everything.

Y/N: It was the best day of my life. After the day our daughter was born, of course. But that's a story for another time.

[exhuastedpigeon]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday

Tagged by @wikiangela @daffi-990 @devirnis - thanks friends :)

More NHL AU today. The speed dating scene was supposed to be like 1000 words... it's already 1.6k and it's not done yet soooo that's going well.

A couple fun facts - the IKEA meatballs are mentioned because one of my favourite Swedish players mentioned once that when he was really homesick during his first couple NHL seasons he'd go to IKEA. Also, Burrito Boyz is a real chain in Southern Ontario and it isn't as bad as you're thinking it is.

Buck bursts out laughing even though it wasn't that funny and can’t seem to stop until he catches Taylor’s eye and sees her glaring. He pulls himself together and looks down at the next card in front of him. “Okay, w-what’s your favorite food?” “My abuela’s pozole,” Eddie says without missing a beat. “And my mormor’s köttbullar.” “I’m so uncultured,” Buck mutters and then raises his eyebrows at Eddie in a silent plea for him to elaborate. “Köttbullar is Swedish meatballs, kind of like the kind you get at IKEA, only better and my mormor’s are the best.” Eddie tells him with a grin. “Have you really never had pozole?” “I grew up in Markham, Ontario man,” Buck says with a shrug. “We don’t really have much in terms of good Mexican food. I mean, I’ve had Taco Bell and don’t get me started on Burrito Boyz.” “Buck I need you to shut up before I swear in this family friendly video,” Eddie looks half exasperated, half fond as he speaks. “Pozole is a perfect dish. It’s a soup made with hominy and meat and then you can garnish it with chili peppers and other stuff, I like mine to have a little heat. Abuela makes it for family get-togethers and sometimes when you’re sick, it takes her hours but it's so f- freaking good.” “So we need to go to IKEA and then to your abuela's for dinner?” Buck asks with a grin.  “I’ll ask Abuela to make pozole if you promise to never call Taco Bell Mexican food again,” Eddie says, leaning his elbows on the table and meeting Buck’s eye. He still looks mildly offended, which is fair. “We live in L.A. We can get great Mexican food here.” “Deal,” Buck extends a hand and Eddie rolls his eyes, but shakes it.  “Can you two read the questions on the table please?” Taylor asks, her voice cheerful but her face look might actually be able to kill them.  “Sure can, TayKay,” Buck grins at her over his shoulder and turns back to Eddie. “Well, read me a question, Diaz.”

no pressure tagging @thewolvesof1998 @hippolotamus @jeeyuns @watchyourbuck @monsterrae1 @loserdiaz @cal-daisies-and-briars @callmenewbie @wildlife4life @spotsandsocks @rosieposiepuddingnpie @acountrygirlsfun @steadfastsaturnsrings @underwater-ninja-13 @king-buckley @butchdiaz @malewifediaz @spagheddiediaz @eddiebabygirldiaz @princessfbi and anyone else who wants to share!

[she-walked-away]

Tag Game Tuesday Monday: 911 Lone Star Fandom Edition

It took me nearly a week to get to it, but thanks Anne @thisbuildinghasfeelings for tagging me!!!

When did you first start watching Lone Star? Who or what introduced you to the show?

Funnily enough, I was watching the Super Bowl in 2020 and was folding laundry when they showed a promo from Lone Star and it was the part where they were talking to the old lady and I heard "Sure ma'am but just so you know I'm a homosexual" and I looked up because that was VERY random for a commercial to say and I the rest of the scene aired and I thought it was one of the best things I've ever seen lmao.

I actually did not start watching the show until 1x08 when TK got shot and I was HOOKED. I remember having to miss the season 1 finale to go to the grocery and checking my twitter account to see if Tarlos got together in the end ajkdhafdas

Which season is your favorite?

Season 3!

I'll never forget the EXPERIENCE that Push was. I was on a whole rollercoaster of emotions and I remember watching the TK waking up and Grace giving birth montage live and when it went off, my husband sitting behind me and very quietly going "whoa." We were both SHOOK. And then the proposal happened in 3x18 and I slunk off my couch because I was dying happily.

I think my rank is 3, 4 bc of the wedding and SOULMATES!!!, 2, and then 1. I really did like season 2 but you can tell Tim kind of bum rushed the ending dalkhdf

Who is your favorite character? (Bonus: If you answered TK or Carlos, who is your favorite besides them?)

TK and Carlos will always be number one and I cannot pick a favorite between them. They're both so complex and interesting.

I think my second favorite has got to be Tommy. She always just *fit* in the show better than Michelle and I think she's hilarious and smart and her friendship with Grace and Judd are my favorites. Plus, I love how she and Owen play off each other.

Top five episodes. Go!

Push - nothing will ever top this I'm afraid

Bad Call

Saving Grace

Red vs Blue- LET THEM HAVE FUNNY QUIRKY EPISODES LIKE THIS BUT MORE CARLOS

In Sickness and Health

If you could pick any character to be given a "begins" episode, who would it be and what would that episode look like?

After season 4- I kind of NEED a Carlos one. I always want one and I think we learned a lot about him last season, but 4x18 opened a lot more questions about his childhood for me. Especially since he genuinely doesn't seem to remember a lot of the good times with his dad and it makes me curious if there is some underlying reason why other than just distance as he grew up.

But also NANCY. What is her backstory?? Her dad told her to start saving when she was little and she has thousands of dollars that she can lend out?? I want to know if there is more to it! And how did she get her start? Was she with the original 126 paramedic squad?

What is a scenario or storyline that you would like to see in season 5?

Obviously Gabriel's murder being solved and it would be great if Tarlos did it TOGETHER. And if one of them is in dangerous peril at the same time in front of the other- would not complain. I'm all for a "being threated and stalked" kind of storyline- I was thinking of along the lines of The Watcher by @ladytessa74 I want to be scared!! And to watch them be scared and IN LOVE AND A TEAM

I saw this earlier, but an episode from like B-shifts POV. You know that Owen and the firefam respond to the most INSANE calls, so I want to see what B shift and Captain Harper's POV is towards A shift. I think it would be hilarious.

Also- give me some silliness within the Catan Crew. Like maybe someone gets a little TOO into a game and then we have an episode of them all pranking each other or a little funny divide- similar to 4x16, but without them actually fighting.

What do you think is going on in this still?

It's Ghost face from Scream asking Carlos what his favorite scary movies are

:)

I think it's either about Gabriel's murder or them finding out that Robert is dead. Rob Lowe said we'd see part of that day so I wonder if we will see the aftermath since I don't think Robert necessarily died within a week after the wedding.

We all know about the elusive 5x05 spicy scene that has been teased, so what is your prediction for how it could possibly top 1x02?

I think it could DEF be some *spicy* shower sex. If TK get's injured in 504, Carlos should help make him feel all nice and healed in the SHOWER

Where was the Tarlos honeymoon in your mind?

I think somewhere in Texas like Galveston. It's not too far away, but I think it's far enough to where TK and Carlos would feel okay leaving both their parents for a short trip. I headcanon that they spent A LOT of money on a quick 8 week wedding *cries in timeline* and so they'd have to save up for a bigger and longer honeymoon.

Shoutout one of your favorite fan creations.

I HAVE SO MANY SO I AM SO SORRY IF I FORGET TO MENTION. It's hard to me to count my favorite stories beacuse I think this fandom has so many. I usually put them on my kindle when I'm traveling so I can reread on a long road trip and read in between the Pluto TV commercials during my long treadmill runs.

I just found my password for Ao3 that i created in 2015 (i was a fanfiction.net OG and live journal girly lol really dating myself) so I am currently making my way through reviewing @welcometololaland's ALTA and I have so many other ones to review as well! @strandnreyes, @reyesstrand, @paperstorm, @carlos-in-glasses, @ladytessa74, @rmd-writes , @goodways, @heartstringsduet , @liminalmemories21 , @lemonlyman-dotcom and literally so many more. I love going back and rereading fics on my work breaks now I'm back from leave and now that I have my password back, I plan on continuing that!!

I love gifsets by @guardian-angle22, @lutavero, @reasonandfaithinharmony, and more!

Also Anne's @thisbuildinghasfeelings cross-stitch!! Literally SO FREAKING COOL.

If I forgot you, I am so sorry. But if you write or make art or anything else in this fandom- just know that I am obsessed with everything you do :) I've just been silently stalking this fandom since like 2020

[dontyouworrydaddy]

Right where you left me

Title from Taylor Swift‘s song Right where you left me🫧

Leon Kennedy x gn! Reader

summary: After breaking up with Leon you never visited the café you guys used to have y‘alls date. What happens when you decide to buy a coffee und see him sitting in the corner you guys used to sit?

Warning: other than heartbreaking and seeing Leon sitting alone and looking at his coffee, none.

not my gif!

It‘s been five months since you and Leon broke up. It was because you guys were having problems with communicating and it got so worse you just had to leave. A part of you hated you because you left the man you truly love but the other part of you is proud of you because for the first time you put yourself first. You told Leon to find you when he is ready to start a new relationship after seeing a therapist. You even gave him the number of a very good therapist in town which your best friend is also visiting.

And now… You’re standing in front of the cafe Leon and you would have your regular date. Every Tuesday at 3 pm. You would sit there for hours and drink y‘alls coffee while enjoying each other���s presence. There were times where none of you would talk. Just looking at each other like some Teenagers. And now… everything is gone.

But you’re really craving for some good coffee after having the most exhausting day at work. You get in without thinking any further and make your way to the cashier.

“Hey! What can I get for you?” the orange haired woman asks you with a kind smile. You feel like you‘ve seen her somewhere but you can’t figure out from where. “Hey. I‘d like to have a double espresso to go.” you tell her. She tabs on the iPad and looks at you again. “Would you like to pay with cash or card?” she asks you and you hand her the cash with tip with a smile “with cash and the rest is tip.”

She smiles and before she goes to make your order she stops and turns to you leaving you a bit confused. “I have a question.” Now you’re curious. What might her question be? You tilt your head and your eyebrows furrow. “Yes?” you answer. “This might be a weird thing to ask but… did you and your boyfriend break up? Because I didn’t see you guys here in a long time. It was kinda sad not seeing you guys sitting at your regular place with your regular drink. We Were a bit worried since you guys were the locals.” Oh? Of course this was gonna happen. You gulp really loudly and your face sadden. The cashier notices your face change real quick and adds “I- uh I- didn’t really mean to uh… you know. It wasn’t my intention to bring up memories. I‘m really sorry if I hurt you” you can feel the woman being worried about accidentally hurting you and quickly shake your head. “No it’s okay. We are just… yeah we broke up” you whisper the last sentence. It feels like someone is stabbing your heart. Maybe stabbing you won’t hurt you as much as your heart hurts right now. “I‘m sorry to hear that. You guys were so cute. Anyways… before I leave to make your order…uh- He is sitting at your regular place. You know in the corner right back. He never stopped coming here” she tells me before leaving.

He never stopped coming here?

Is it really just for the coffee? A part of you hopes that he still comes here because of you, hoping to see you.

Curiosity wins and you step to the side a bit, trying to get a look at the back of the caffe.

And she was right. He is sitting there, all alone and looking at the coffee. The coffee you always ordered when you were having your dates with him. But you thought that he would never in a million years would drink that. But here he is, drinking it. You can’t figure out how he might feel because his face doesn’t hold any emotions. Should you go and say hi to him? Would that be awkward?

“Here is your order. Have a great day!” the woman says while handing you your coffee. You thank her and take your drink.

And now you’re standing there. Wondering if you should go and say hi.

You want to run to him and kiss him for as long as you can. You want to run to him and hug him and confess that you missed him so much. You want him to know that you spend days crying because you felt bad for leaving him with an opening ending. But you also just want to leave and not look back.

But somehow you feel like your feet is acting on their own and now you’re walking towards him. “I thought you would never drink that?” you speak and he flinches. He turns his head to you and you see how his face lights up. Immediately, he jumps up from his seat and looks at you. “Y/N? Oh my god. Hey!” his voice is still deep and so damn sexy. You remember how he used to praise you with this voice while he was-

Snap out of it.

“Hi Leon. How are you?” you ask him and give him a genuine smile. The corner of his lips curl a bit and you could bet he was trying to hide a smile. Also, you notice that he is pretty nervous because his hands are doing everything but standing still next to him.

“I‘m good. Yeah. Uh…. how are you?” he asks you back. “I‘m good thanks. But since when are you drinking my regular drink?” you ask him and you can feel him getting even more nervous. “Actually it still tastes like shit. I… I honestly don’t know” he stutters. If it still tastes like shit than why is he drinking it? You don’t get the point.

But you decided to not push the topic further as you realize that this question made him pretty nervous because now he started to swing with his body. You guys stay silent for a solid minute before it gets any more awkward you decide to break the silence.

“Okay… Than I should probably get going. Bye Leon” As you were about to turn around you can feel his huge hands wrap around your wrist and stopping you from leaving. Before you can ask hin what’s wrong he interrupts you.

“I really missed you Y/N. Home doesn’t feel like home since you left.” he starts confessing. His voice is heavy, you can hear it. “ I’m going to a therapist and I‘m actually doing great. I‘m making progress. I don’t know why I‘m telling you this. Maybe because I just wanted to you know.”

He did in fact went to see a therapist. Not only because of you but also because of himself. He realized how much he was hurting you without even knowing. He also didn’t realize that he was hurting himself. So he decided to take help from someone professional.

“I didn’t talk to other woman. I mean yes I talked to them but not in that way. I kept rejecting them and told every single one of them that I‘m seeing someone. I want you to know that I still love you. And I think I will love you until I take my last breath. My heart will continue to beat for you until it stops beating. ” now you can feel a tear escaping your eye. It feels like someone is putting weight on your heart. It’s too heavy and your heart can’t take that.

“But please don’t feel bad for leaving me. Actually, I‘m kinda glad you did. Because now I‘m healing and I can be the man you truly deserve. I was being serious about us marrying. And I was about to come and find you again. Asking you for another chance. So please Y/N, can I take you out on a date? Just to talk. Because right now I don’t look good and I want us to have more time to talk.”

His little speech kinda touched you. He did really change. He is changing and he is healing. That’s what you always wanted for him. Not thinking too long you nod and it makes him happy. You can see his smile brighter than the sun.

“Next Tuesday, at 3 pm, here?” he asks you.

“Okay” you agree.

[positivelyholland]

Suprises

pairing: chris evans x daughter!reader 

genre: fluff 

warnings: angst for a minute there, paparazzi, getting lost, let me know if i missed any

summary: after your dad suprised you with a daddy-daughter date, you run into some suprise paparazzi and get scared

A/N this is (almost) the exact same as my other tom cruise fic, but just with chris evans

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey y/n/n, do you have any plans for the day” your dad walked over to where you were sitting on the couch, lazily watching Bluey. 

“Considering it's 6pm on a Tuesday, no” you sarcastically responded. Chris finds it funny how you're the only person on God's green earth who can get away with teasing him. 

“Great! Go get some nice-ish clothes on and I’ll meet you in the car in 15 minutes” before you could respond to his words, he ran away to god knows where. 

Feeling confused and nervous but also excited for whatever your dad had planned, you hurry up to your room to go start getting ready. 

You did some light and simple makeup that made you look even more beautiful (although Chris would argue you're pretty no matter what, you are his daughter after all). After finishing your lip gloss, you went to go pick out an outfit, which was the hardest part. 

It's moments like these where you swear there's absolutely nothing to wear, but chris (and most people) would say otherwise due to your huge closet full of designer pieces since you are the daughter of Chris Evans after all. 

It wasn't until after you had trashed your room and basically emptied out your whole closet that you were able to decide on a long-sleeved, dark blue sundress. 

Taking one last look in the mirror and spraying some perfume all over your body, you decided you looked good. Well, you had to be at least a little content at this point since it had been 20 minutes since the conversation with your dad and he had been honking at you from his car for the past 5 minutes. 

Running as fast as you can in heels (which was pretty fast considering how many fancy events you've been to with your dad), you grabbed your phone and purse before joining Chris in the car. 

As you opened the car door and (not so gracefully) stepped in, your dad gave you a big hug. 

“Wow, you're definitely my daughter with how pretty you look tonight” he teased, to which you just rolled your eyes and thanked him in response. 

The drive to wherever he was taking you was only about 20 minutes long, but those 20 minutes were full of jamming out to 80s ballads and singing your heart out until you finally arrived at an expensive 5-star restaurant.

You checked out your surroundings, and once you finally realized that's where you were, you looked at your dad in shock. 

“Are you being serious right now, dad?” you asked him, voice filled with excitement. To which Chris just shook his head with the brightest smile on his face as the 'yes' answer to your question.

Although you were parked decently far from the restaurant, Chris made it an enjoyable walk in order for you to not focus on how bad your feet hurt in your heels. Whether it was chatting about life, telling jokes, or even just pulling silly faces at each other, he made sure you wouldn't focus on the pain your feet must've been enduring.

You got to the fancy doors before walking into the restaurant and then were quickly led to your seats on the balcony, thanks to your dad’s string-pulling skills. 

~~~

After eating some of the most delicious food you've ever had in your life, and having the best time laughing and chatting with your dad, things eventually had to come to an end.

"Shall we?" Chris asked as he linked arms with you.

"We shall," you responded, heading towards the exit with your dads arms around you.

Before you could leave through those boujee doors, your dad spotted some paparazzi, who were most likely waiting for you guys. He immediately got stressed out and warned you about them since he is well aware of your anxiety revolving around these types of things. 

You both took a deep breath before trying to quickly make your way through the crowds of people. Due to the constant distracting flashes of cameras, you accidentally let go of your dads hand to block your eyes from the brightness. At the loss of contact, both you and your father became incredibly stressed. 

You were able to make it out of the crowd pretty easily by just running to wherever you can quickly find peace. As you started to calm down from the experience, you realized you had absolutely no clue where you were or how you were supposed to get back to your dads car. 

Pulling out your phone and dialing your dads number, you were so relieved to hear him pick up his phone almost immediately. 

“Dad, I'm scared. I don't know where I am, help me please” your anxiety was starting to come back to you. 

“It's ok sweetheart I’ve got your location on my phone and I'm on my way towards you, ok?” He was trying to calm you down but he also seemed very stressed as well. 

“ok please hurry” Chris could hear you doing some breathing techniques you had learned in therapy, which made him very thankful for paying that therapy bill every session.

“You're gonna be okay, just stay on the phone with me please” he said in an attempt to comfort you.

After a few minutes that seemed like hours, he finally pulled up to where you were. Chris sprinted out of his car looking for you, and once he found where you were sitting he ran over and gave you a big hug, accidentally startling you while doing so. 

“It's me, it's me! Calm down, it's just me” he soothed after noticing you jump out of fear before melting into his fatherly embrace. 

“I was so scared Dad! I didn't know what to do so I just ran” you were still very shaken up from the experience but being in your dad’s presence was very helpful towards calming you down. 

“Hey, just look at me. Breathe, it's gonna be okay”

You eventually were able to calm down thanks to the help of your dad, so the two of you made your way back to the safety of his car. 

Although the experience was very scary for you, you couldn't have been more grateful for your dad than you were at this moment. He's truly the best parent you could ask for. 

At this moment, Chris was thinking the exact same thing about you.

[bomberqueen17]

the home stretch

Went over to the house yesterday morning and Jim was there sawing a hole in the exterior wall.

Not alarming at all once I remembered part of this remodel that i'm really excited about is that we're getting an actual exhaust hood for over the stove. Not one of those ones that goes through a microwave either, a real exhaust hood that goes to the outdoors. (The real ones are mounted 30" above the stove top. Microwave ones have to be lower so you can reach the microwave. i can't stand cooking in such a constrained space like that. No thank you. Keep my microwave separate!)

He had sawed out a big chunk of drywall on the interior too, and replaced it with plywood, which is much sturdier to screw mounting hardware into. At my request, he'd extended the plywood down a couple more inches (it'll be covered by the tile backsplash so it won't even show!) so I can screw a couple of heavy-duty mounting hooks in there and have a place I can hang both my cast-iron skillets when they're not in use. I don't like leaving them on the stove (my mother's approach) or stacking them on a shelf (dude's approach) because one is untidy and the other requires me to lift every piece of cast iron i own at once to access any of them. (I also have a square griddle and a Dutch oven and also a tiny skillet which Dude uses all the time when I'm not around and neither of us uses at all when I am around, because it is very much a Cooking For One mini skillet LOL.)

He paused to show me the deer hunting hut he'd meticulously constructed for himself while he was on Christmas break and then artistically had painted camoflage. ("My friends were like omg how long did that take you? I dunno, I wasn't counting, I had a blast. Had a beer in one hand, spray paint can in the other, I just let it take as long as it took. It's like arts and crafts! Who's keeping track of the time?") It did look great. As he was swiping his finger accidentally slid onto the later bits of the camera roll and it showed me the deer he'd gotten on the last day of hunting season. "Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you look at that," he said, and then looked at me and laughed, remembering I had told him I work in a slaughterhouse. "Right, you don't mind that kind of thing, but still." It was a nice big doe, cleanly felled, nothing to object to there.

I went and called the appliance company, who'd said they'd deliver my dishwasher and vent hood on new year's eve probably. They seemed confused that I'd called, and then were confused when they discovered that indeed both my items were in stock and should have been delivered. I said I figured the holiday had confused things (genuinely, probably the vent hood had come in on NYE like the salesman had thought it might, but I bet somebody had the day off and they weren't on the ball about calling people) so I just wanted to call and find out if anything needed sorting. They told me they'll call me today to tell me the two-hour delivery window. So I'm getting my dishwasher today! Pumped. It's gonna go into the living room to start with but like, y'know, that's fine.

The counters are going in on Thursday. Hopefully, Jim said, the counter people could do it in the morning, because then he could start on the tile that afternoon.

Ah they've just called, my delivery window for the appliances is 11-1. OK cool.

The plumber can't come until Monday. But then once he's been there I'll have my stove and sink and dishwasher. And, Jim says, that means the final, last little button-up details will be done on Tuesday.

"And then," he said, amused, "I can go back to the regular schedule, because the people who refused to have their houses torn up over the holidays will be clamoring to get the work done now. It's good you didn't mind." Which is precisely why we thought we'd gotten bumped up by two months, but it's funny to hear him so directly confirm it.

"I'm the luckiest person in the world," I said, "with my mother-in-law's house vacant walking distance away for this whole time, so it's been genuinely no trouble at all." And I am. She's coming back on Tuesday, so I figure we'll move back into our house over the weekend, and I'll deep-clean her house and (sighhh) put all the beautiful sewing equipment back where I found it. I won't really miss her fancy modern sewing machine (which she just got and is third-hand and I don't think she knows how to use either) but her old workhorse straight-stitch machine is a beautiful, unfussy beast I've really enjoyed spending time with.

OK i gotta get off my ass and go get the grocery shopping done so I can go sit in my house for the delivery window. I saved plenty of things to do, don't worry. I'm starting to put stuff into the cupboards, made Dude come sit with me over the weekend and give his opinion-- he's been busy at work and has had no attention span but I refuse to take his "idk just put stuff wherever" at face value, he spends more time in this house than me and i will NOT have him after the fact annoyed with how I chose to organize things. So he did give opinions, finally. And I need a few more lazy susans and storage baskets and half-shelf-rack kinda thingies here and there but I'm getting there.

[straightupsickfics]

Teacher Anon 💛 💛 💛 💛 💛 💛 omfg my friend!!! Happy 2024! I hope it's off to a great start...

It's only Tuesday...

Ugh.

So how about something with our favorite pirates in their modern Ed is very protective of his hubby in his black cat "imma hover over you" mode. I freaking lost my voice due to a non illness and I'm like how am I teaching tomorrow!?! So like me as an educator...Stede must also suffer a lost voice as a professor 🙃

ahh happy new year, friend! i hope you're feeling better today and did not have to talk tooo much! <3 some sad, soggy stede for you...

***

Stede’s car is a sheet of ice. 

After the world’s longest day, Stede has finally, finally reached his car, and it’s absolutely encased in ice. It’d been raining all day, he’d known that, of course. What he hadn’t realized was how cold it'd gotten, leaving him helpless, gloveless, and scraper-less when it came time to get in his car. 

He wants to cry.

More than that, he wants to scream. Except he can’t, because he hasn’t had a voice since sometime yesterday afternoon, thanks to whatever horrible virus he managed to pick up right at the start of the semester. 

He thinks about calling Ed, but aside from rasping pitifully into the phone, even that feels impossible.  Instead, he takes a picture of his car, adds a few crying emojis and hits send. It’s about all his bone-tired brain can handle at the moment, and Ed will get it.

Ed always gets it. Gets him. 

The thought makes his eyes well up all over again as he heads back to his office to wait for his husband to rescue him. 

Stuffed with books, covered in prints, and full to bursting with a small, plush sofa, and many, many ocean creatures, Stede’s office is extremely cozy, which is a small comfort in times like these. He drops dramatically into his desk chair, thinks about grading some of the papers he has waiting for him, wilts a little, then drags himself over to the small sofa in the corner. 

Better. 

Then, miracle of miracles, his phone buzzes in his hand. 

Edward 💜: Oh, fuck. On my way 😘

Stede: Have I mentioned how much I love you?

Edward 💜: Not today. Frankly, I’m feeling a little neglected, babe

Stede: I love you. x 1,000

Edward 💜: Hmmm, needs a few more 0s I think… 

Edward 💜: Okay, love you, driving now, be there soon!!

With Ed on his way and all his students gone for the day, Stede lets himself droop across his sofa, his eyes falling shut before he can even register how heavy they’ve felt these last few hours. He’s moments from falling asleep when Ed’s voice startles him upright. 

“Aww, Stede,” Ed says. “Y’look fucking shattered, sweetheart.” His voice is so soft and sympathetic that Stede isn’t even surprised when his eyes fill with tears in earnest this time. Ed looks perfect in his black puffy coat, not ridiculous the way he should, the way everyone else looks. His hair is flecked through with rain drops, and he’s looking at Stede like he’d pick him up and carry him to the car if he thought Stede would let him. 

At this rate, Stede thinks, he’d have a hard time even protesting. 

“Hi,” Stede tries to say, but his throat is scraped raw, and he knows he’s barely audible, having wasted the last of his voice on his American Lit seminar this afternoon. A waste, as half the class had been on their phones, and the rest had the kind of zombie-eque, dead-eyed stares that made him wonder why he even bothered. 

How many weeks until spring break?

“Come here,” Ed says, making his way to Stede and offering him a hand to help him up. He pulls him right into a warm, tight hug, rubbing Stede’s back as they stand there wrapped up in each other. Stede would’ve stayed there for hours, face smushed right into Ed's coat... that is, if he could breathe. Between the worsening congestion and Ed’s thick coat, though, he doesn’t stand a chance. 

Stede lifts his head and blinks pathetically up at Ed, wondering how he’d gotten so lucky.

“Made that soup you like, that hot Italian thing? Should feel nice on your throat, even if you can’t taste it,” Ed tells him, dropping a kiss to the tip of Stede’s nose. "Then we'll get in bed, yeah? Fucking 7:00 pm bedtime. Don't let anyone tell you different Stedey, that's living the dream."

“Thank you,” Stede manages. He tucks himself back into Ed’s chest for another long minute. He can’t wait to be home, and warm, and out of his work clothes. Stede had longed for exactly that all day. But now, standing here, Ed wrapped around him, murmuring promises about soup and tea and ocean documentaries, Stede feels close enough to home; what’s another few minutes?

[dameronology]

Hey! Could you please do an Eddie Munson X reader where Jason tries to hit on the reader and ask her on a date. She doesn’t want to and keeps saying that she has a boyfriend (Eddie) but he says “he’s not here now.” Maybe he gets annoyed and grabs your wrist or something but Eddie turns up and protects you from him

overprotective eddie fuck yeah (even tho this situation it's a v normal reaction so...regular protective eddie fuck yeah!)

you don't see jason for like a year after you graduate. mostly because you have no reason to because he's just genuinely just an all around asshole but also because he went off to some fancy ass university on a sports scholarship in illinois

you cross paths for the first time again over a year after you've all graduated; it's christmas time and he's home for the holidays

you're staying with eddie in the trailer; his uncle's away seeing family & all of your annoying relatives are over. it's just you and him and it's pure fucking bliss

that is until he accidentally blows the power w his guitar amp and you're left in the fucking cold

so he sends you packing down to goodwill one tuesday evening with 20 bucks in hand to buy whatever blankets you can find

eddie waits in the car because "he doesn't do well in the cold"

he's a terrible liar

anyways - you're crossing the street from his van when jason spots you. he's loitering outside family video; he looks the same as ever, just with slightly longer hair and a half-arsed attempt at a beard

he calls your name and it takes you a second to realise who it is. you give him a small smile and wave but the way he moves towards you implies he's about to make small talk

it's fine for the first two minutes. jason asks about work, your mum, the usual bullshit. it's not until he makes the suggestion of meeting for dinner the next day that you realise where the conversation is going

you know what he's getting at - according to his friends around hawkins, he has very little success with women

"my dad is friends with the owner of that new italian place down the street. we can get a few drinks and-"

"- i still have a boyfriend, jason. thanks for the offer though."

that's what jason's face falls: he had a crush on you for most of high school and it killed you a little bit inside when you started dating eddie in senior year

"c'mon, take a break from the trailer park trash-"

(that was when he took your wrist in his hand. hell fucking nO)

"- and spend the night with a proper guy. i'll treat you right."

it's at that point that you hear the door to the van slam and within seconds, a denim jacket and mass of curly hair is making its way across the road

"hey, man - didn't you hear them? back the hell off!"

eddie isn't overprotective by nature; he's chill as fuck 99% of the time but jason carver is the exception to the rule

he has an arm around your waist in seconds, chest puffed out as he pushes you behind him a little in an attempt to shield you from what he has deemed to be the worst man alive

"calm down, munson. i was just putting the offer out there"

and honestly it sort of boils eddie's blood a bit?? because he cares very little about how successful his classmates were, even less about what they think about him, but he has constantly thought about the possibility you might one day wake up and realise you can do better than a washed up musician

a guy like jason for example, who for all of his shortcomings, has a rich family, goes to a great university and will probably be in the nfl one day or some shit

but it's bullshit!! btw. because you literally would never even give another person a single thought. eddie is your whole life.

"you should go"

and surprisingly, jason does. he admits defeat, holds his hand up in defense and begins his walk home

which is when you press a kiss to eddie's lips and turn around to face your new enemy

"MERRY FUCKING CHRISTMAS, CARVER!"

[liminalmemories21]

Tag Game Tuesday: 911 Lone Star Fandom Edition

Tagged by @ladytessa74. Thank you!

When did you first start watching Lone Star? Who or what introduced you to the show?

What is time? Okay, so I have competing memories about this. I want to say we started watching 911 OG because of the pandemic. But, I also have vivid memories of watching Lonestar from episode 1 because it was a 911 spinoff. And, given when Lonestar started those are incompatible memories.

Which is to say I think we must have started watching 911 OG earlier than I remember.

Which season is your favorite?

Season 2. When they're really getting to know each other, and figure out how to talk to each other. I really love how they handled the whole farmer's market thing - Carlos telling TK about what coming out was like for him, and TK actually listening.

Who is your favorite character? (Bonus: If you answered TK or Carlos, who is your favorite besides them?)

Hard to choose, but I think a toss up between Judd and Grace. I just really love their marriage, and how much faith and trust they have in each other, and how much they just clearly love and like each other. Also, Judd's got a great kind of exasperated older brother energy, and his voice has a fantastic cadence to write.

Top five episodes. Go!

I am also terrible at remembering episode numbers. So.

the one with the farmer's market

the entire Marjan episode last season

the kidnapping arc - I love getting to see Carlos be smart about being a detective

the one with the kidnapped kid (my father-in-law more or less), because see above about watching Carlos be smart, and actually recognized for it this time

the Gwyn's death/airplane falling out of the sky episode - because everyone was so good in that episode, and you could feel how much everything ached, and I liked getting to see a glimpse of TK's relationship with his mother.

If you could pick any character to be given a "begins" episode, who would it be and what would that episode look like?

Paul. I know we've gotten hints, but I'd love to know more about why he picked firefighting, and what pushed him to leave Chicago in the end.

Also, Nancy, because we know almost nothing about her.

What is a scenario or storyline that you would like to see in season 5?

I'd like a chance to see TK be good at his job - we know he is because we've been told he is, but I don't feel like we've gotten to see it much.

I'd like a Halloween episode - small children in adorable costumes, and crazy calls, and so much teasing between the team about candy and costumes.

Also, I'd really like the show to remember that TK has a step-father(ish) type person, and a brother.

What do you think is going on in this still?

I mean, realistically I think it's probably nothing that any of us can guess. But, I think it looks like Carlos is doing something that TK doesn't want him to - either still pursuing his father's murderer, or agreeing to do something for work that scares TK (undercover?).

We all know about the elusive 5x05 spicy scene that has been teased, so what is your prediction for how it could possibly top 1x02?

I have no words for how much I want lazy making out on the couch that turns into something hotter and heavier. I want low soundtrack so you can hear the way fabric shifts together, and the couch squeaks a little under their weight. I want Carlos's hand gripping TK's hip (think the kiss from Some Kind of Wonderful - the way Eric Stoltz's hand just flexes on her hip, like he can't help himself).

I want them home, and comfortable with each other, but still so hot for each other.

Where was the Tarlos honeymoon in your mind?

Well, apparently they went to a resort somewhere? Given how much Carlos apparently dislikes traveling, we can only imagine the lengths TK had to go to persuade him of that. But, I think Owen and the Andrea upgraded their reservation to apologize for kind of taking over the wedding planning.

I think it wasn't quite what they imagined - because how could it be - but it was what they needed, a chance to be away, to be together, to regroup, and grieve, and not have to try and do it in front of anyone else. I think for the first few days Carlos tried to make it perfect, the way it was supposed to have been, and TK kept trying to say, it doesn't have to be that. And eventually Carlos let himself believe TK and took the time to really process what he lost - not just his father, but the potential for the relationship they were just starting to rebuild.

Shoutout one of your favorite fan creations.

I really liked the themed recc lists that @welcometololaland started. I always love a good recc list, and I like ones that come with summaries and personal endorsements.

tagging @carlos-tk, @chicgeekgirl89, @rmd-writes, @welcometololaland, and @jesuisici33

[burningchandelier]

I think I’m ready to write about what happened at the Thursday show on Tuesday in Boston.

After Many Eyes, a very drunk man started screaming in a hostile and aggressive way in the ear of a woman I was standing next to. He had been looking over her shoulder and saw the word “Zionist,” to which he took offense.

Okay. I’m an America Jew. I was brought up in a family that left Israel because they did not want my brother to serve in the IDF. I also have a knee-jerk reaction when I see that word. It makes me worry because a lot of the time it is used to paint a wide brush and excuse Jew hate.

In this instance, the man who was yelling was completely offensive. He would not take a breath. He was gesturing so wildly that he was actually hitting this woman.

I called security over and explained what was going on. I switched places with the woman who was being harassed. Security finally got involved and removed the guy. It went on for way too long before he was kicked out.

It turned out that this woman is Palestinian. She lived in a refugee camp as a child. She knows more than most of us what is going on. She was able to enjoy the rest of the show safely, but we were both looking over our shoulders for the rest of the show.

I wrote to Geoff to see if there was any chance that she could meet him or maybe just get a signed pick or something. It seemed like something he would want to step in and help with. He liked the message, but obviously, he had other things going on.

When the show ended, we were both justifiably concerned about her safety. Thursday’s merch guy was one of the only people working the show we interacted with who acted like an actual human being about the incident. He was so kind to us both and outraged by what happened. He gave us a safe place to stand.

Security didn’t even agree to escort us to the car. The one guard who agreed was a very small woman who was willing to help after she clocked out. They weren’t even going to pay her!

We thanked her, but decided to wait instead. While we waited, we had a great conversation and found so much common ground.

To my delight, but not surprise, Geoff did come out and greet her. It was late, it was cold, and his voice was going, but he still took the time to say hello. This is the kind of kindness and care that I have come to trust Geoff Rickly to show to his fans.

I am glad to have made a new friend in this awesome and strong woman. It was a big event with a lot of emotions, but ultimately I am reminded that the energy you put into the universe comes back to you, sometimes not in ways you expect.

I hope that my new friend can have a better time at our next show together.