#who knows if this will make the final cut

[igotanidea]

Haircut: Jason Todd x reader

Inspired by the post from @pop-culturereference about what Jason's fans really want from DC (link here)

***

„AH!!”

An involuntary scream left her mouth the second she came home. Jason was not used to his girlfriend being so expressive, but protective instinct kicked in as he jumped off the couch he was reading a book on and immediately rushed to her side.

“Y/N! Love, what happened?” his hands found hers, squeezing them gently, trying to ground her in reality and assure her that whatever scared her so much was no match for him.

“What happened to you?” she sobbed, not even trying to stop the tears running down her cheeks.

“Huh?” Jason frowned “Look, I know I’m not exactly model handsome, but—”

“WHO DID THIS TO YOU?!” she wailed as if someone was tearing her heart out or squeezing her lungs.

“What are you--?” he tried again, quite taken aback by the intensity of her emotions. She wasn’t ever crying this much when he came home bloodied and bruised. She never let a single muscle on her face twitch while  patching him up. But when he was okay, just chilling and for once – not getting into trouble she got into a waterfall mode. “Y/n? Look at me. Look at me!” he grabbed her chin and forced her eyes on him.

“I AM!”

“Then you can see I’m all good. It’s all good! Come on baby, whatever fear took over your brain, you have to wake up from this!”

“Your hair!” she broke into crying fit again

“My hair?” he instinctively ran his fingers through his strands. “What about them?”

“WHERE IS IT?”

Oh.

Oh, so finally they were getting to the bottom of the problem.

He cut his hair shorter than she was used to and clearly she didn’t like it.

“Look, I just thought-“

“Was it Roy? I’m sure it was Roy. I swear to God, I’m gonna kill him! How is it that I leave you guys for a few hours and you always end up causing trouble.”

“It was not—”

“Then who was it? Dick?”

“Ugh! As if I would ever let him anywhere near my head!”

“Then who helped you did this atrocity?” she pressed, taking a look at his inch-long strands.

“I did it myself.” He responded, almost sounding proud.

“You-you-yourself…?” Y/N’s eyes grew wide as she stuttered. Her bag was dropped to the ground with a concerning sound of rattling, but neither of them care about the possibility of something being crashed. They had more urgent matters at the moment. The sense of betrayal slowly started creeping inside her heart.

“It’s just hair—”

“Just hair?! Are you insane?” she snapped at him “You should have asked me what I think first!”

“But—”

“Do not argue with me, Jason! You’re my boyfriend! It is not just about what you like! You can’t just act on whims without finding out my approach to the matter!”

“It’s just hair—” once more, the poor attempt at reaching her reason failed.

“How am I supposed to run my fingers through it now? And how am I supposed to live without your mop tickling me when we cuddle?”

“Y/n…” he smiled softly, cupping her cheek, meeting her eyes

“I liked them longer… I’m sorry if that hits your insecurities, but—”

“It does make me a little unsure, not gonna lie.” He chuckled. “But only a little. Cause what I’m hearing now, is that you liked my wilder look. For example when I was taking the hood off and have my hair all ruffled? Or when I was –”

“I see what you are trying to do here, Mr. Todd and I’m not falling for it.” Y/N read right through his intentions to invoke an innuendo and tried to step back.

“Come on, baby.” Jason quickly grabbed her waist, circling arms around her like two snakes, preventing her from backing out. “Admit it. You liked the bad boy image I had. It turned you on, didn’t it?”

“Well it doesn’t anymore—“

“Guess that only means, I’ll have to try twice as hard… Cause too bad for you, sunshine, my hair is gonna stay like that for a while. So you have to like it. “

“Oh really-?”

“Most definitely. In fact, I think I’m gonna ditch the longer hair for good. This kind of haircut is so much more practical, you know. No strands sticking to my forehead when we get sweaty. None of them in my eyes when I fight only in the domino mask, no tangles and all that stuff-“

“You’re terrible!”

“Yeah, yeah I am, and what are you going to do about it baby?” he smirked and leaned forward, giving her a teasing look “you love me either way, we both know it.”

“Well maybe I should cut my hair too.” Her eyes glistened with mischief “you know- to match your new style.”

“What?” Jason turned a little pale. His princess was going to get rid of her perfect locks?! Over his dead body! (Even if that meant dying again.) “You are not!”

“Too bad for you I already made that decision. In fact I’m gonna go to the hairdresser first thing tomorrow—”

“I won’t let you out of here! You can’t just make such important decisions without talking to me first!”

“But I just told you.” She fluttered her eyelashes innocently.

“And the answer is no!”

“It was not a question.”

“You are not cutting your hair. It is not only yours! It’s mine too! We’re a couple, practically like one being!”

“Well maybe if we attach some of mine to your head we can both have what we want?”

“I got a better idea. I’ll keep you trapped here for as long as mine grow back, how about that?”

“And what shall we do for so many months Mr Todd?” she hummed with a glint in her eyes.”

“Duh! I’ll make sure to convince you that the length of my hair is not the one that should be of your concern, baby…” Jason smirked letting his hoarse tone reveal what was on his mind.

Was he acting like a hypocrite? Yes.

Did she care? No.

Cause one thing that was absolutely sure about Jason Todd that there was only one like him in the world. Capable of twisting the words in a way that always turned the situation a little less serious. And whatever hairstyle he was sporting, she was not going to change him for anyone else.

[ms-demeanor]

Do you know of any resources for physical film photo manipulation? Not sure if there's different terms for non-digital stuff, but I'm having a hard time finding anything.

Okay so there are, I'm going to say (casually, informally, and inexpertly - photography experts feel free to correct me or add on to what I've missed), four major types of photo manipulation that are common with non-digital photography. They are: exposure manipulation, compositing, actually photographing weird bullshit, and just straight up painting.

Exposure manipulation gets you things like Ansel Adams "Moonrise." This is what it looks like if it's evenly exposed:

And this is what it looks like with significant modifications to the exposure:

That is. Like. SEVERAL layers of different exposures for the final print. This can be achieved through processes called "dodging" and "burning." "Dodging" is creating a physical mask so that the parts of the negative you want to remain darker are exposed to less light. "Burning" is creating a physical mask so that the areas you the negative you want to be brighter are exposed to more light.

This is a process that is really, really easy to do in photoshop, and really really hard to do in film.

Here is a very comprehensive writeup of how to dodge and burn, and why you might want to.

Compositing is a fancy way of saying "copy/paste". But more so. And with more techniques. Compositing is basically combining two or more images to create one new image. You can do this by making multiple exposures (exposing the negative to light multiple times), splicing film negatives together (physically cutting the negatives and taping pieces to each other), or by combining negatives and prints into a new print. For instance the image below is made up of six different photos, which were composited into a single image by Henry Peach Robinson in 1877.

This is an article written by a photographer who walks you through the process they used to make a composite print in 2020. It involves a lot of planning, cutting, pasting, masking, dodging, and burning. This is a writeup from a photographer who uses a more blunt method of splicing negatives together to create more abstract images.

Actually photographing weird bullshit is what I'm calling "in camera effects." There are all kinds of tricks that you can use while taking a photo to create surreal or magical effects. One that a lot of people know is the speeder in Star Wars:

The floating speeder wasn't achieved through later manipulation of the film, but instead through mirrors hanging in front of the wheels and vaseline smeared on the camera lens to create a blurred effect.

Light painting is perhaps the most commonly used of these kinds of effects:

That's a 6-second exposure, the first three seconds were of the cup and saucer still, then the light was lowered as the cup was lifted and light was swept up when the cup was in place to make it look like it was floating.

The Cottingley Fairy Hoax is one of the best known examples of manipulating photos by just photographing weird bullshit. In 1917, two girls cut pictures of fairies out of a book and took pictures of themselves with the paper fairies propped up in trees, then swore up and down that they actually found fairies.

This seems crude, but hey they couldn't reverse image search the fairies or anything back then. Some of the photos also make good use of forced perspective, which is something that we still use for in-camera manipulations (it was how a lot of Lord of the Rings was filmed in order to make the hobbits look small)

Here's a listicle with a bunch of "hacks" for using your camera and for testing out some types of in-camera effects.

Just Straight Up Painting is what I'm calling photo retouching. It's a bit of an exaggeration to call it "painting" but yeah sometimes it was literally putting paint on negatives or etching away parts of negatives. It's how you end up with photos like this:

Here's an article about retouched photos of Joseph Stalin (maybe the most well known examples of pre-digital photo retouching) and an article about the art of portrait retouching. These examples are relatively subtle, but you can also use these kinds of retouching and airbrush techniques to exaggerate parts of an image or add objects to an image (see the text added to the flag in the article about Stalin).

I can't think of any comprehensive resources offhand, but photographers love to tell you how they pulled of their photos (which is why quite a few of the links above are from photographers discussing process). This is by no means a comprehensive list of non-digital photomanipulation techniques, but hopefully it's enough terminology to get you started on what you're looking for.

[swanfactory]

synopsis: being the acting grand sage had been taking up all of your boyfriend’s time.

ft: alhaitham x gn! reader.

cws: acting grand sage!alhaitham, alhaitham and reader live together, pet names (haiyi, my love).

🦢‘s note: hii enjoy this while i work on eplbty huhu i miss haitham terribly but he’s being mean n he won’t come home to me T_T also i love love love!!! the nickname haiyi i think it’s so so sweet.

ever since being assigned the role of the acting grand sage, alhaitham’s workload has increased by a significant amount.

he would wake up very early in the morning and if he was lucky he’d have more than just his usual cup of coffee before immediately setting off for the akademiya where he would spend his whole day cooped up in the grand sage’s office before going back home to lock himself in his office to do….you guessed it…more work.

your boyfriend was a smart man, smart enough to know not to neglect his well being for the sake of his job so seeing him throw himself into what seemed like endless piles of paperwork while taking only a minimal amount of breaks was starting to worry you.

today was no different either, he set off early again, spent his whole day at the akademiya, came home with a new pile of paperwork, ate a little bit and excused himself to his office.

‘it must be exhausting’ you thought to yourself while waiting for the water to heat up to make tea; although alhaitham had great leadership skills you knew that he had no interest in actually being a leader but even so he still took on the dendro archon’s request.

once the tea was done, you poured some in a cup and placed it on a tray with a bowl of cut up zaytun peaches. you made your way to his office softly knocking on the door to not disturb him.

he let out a faint “come in” making you carefully balance the tray you were holding with one arm while the other pushed open the door. and there he was, hunched over his desk, skimming through some papers.

“haiyi… hey…” you trailed off putting the tray down on the table, he looks up at the sound of your voice and a small smile makes its way into his face when he notices what you’ve brought for him.

your hands settle on his shoulders, squeezing them gently.

“it’s green tea, straight from chenyu vale, i thought it could help you relax a bit” you explained, your fingers now drawing soothing patterns on his back.

“thank you, my love” he pulled your hand into his much bigger one, bringing it up to his lips before placing a few featherlight kisses on it.

“you’ve been working since dawn, how about calling it a day for now, it is pretty late after all” you said.

“just a couple more papers and then i’ll join you in bed” he replied, taking a sip of the tea

“no…it’s alright, i’ll wait for you to finish and we can go to bed together”

“you don’t have to wai—“

“i want to…” you cut him off “i really miss you you know” you signal for him to make room for you before making yourself comfortable on his lap, “i don’t mind sitting here with you while you finish” you added.

he didn’t reply, instead opting to wrap his arm around you, pulling you closer into him.

“alright then if that’s what you want, who am i to refuse” he finally says, nuzzling his face into your neck before getting back to work.

knowing alhaitham it was probably going to be another long night, but you didn’t care, you were back in his arms and that’s all that really mattered.

[mssainz]

INTRUDER | PART 3

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Summary: Lewis invited his ex to your wedding.

You were given plenty of plates to taste. Lewis notices your apathy towards the cake tasting. “Did you not like it?” Lewis whispered into your ears, snapping your bubble. “No, I like them. I was just contemplating what to choose. Which one stood out for you?” Y/N replied.

“Anything is good for me. So you can choose what you want. I'll be okay with it,” Lewis replied.

Are you even interested in choosing one or are you just forced to join me here?

“Alright, strawberry cake for me,” You immediately replied. You lost your interest in even taking your time choosing what you really want. You felt like your husband-to-be doesn't even want to be involved with anything and just goes with the flow. He just agreed with everything you want and just let you choose not showing any interest in any details of your wedding. Knowing that he opt to invite his ex to your wedding makes you ruminate more if he just want to allow you to have your dream wedding or if he just want to get everything done just like that.

“Is there something wrong, love?” Lewis broke the silence while driving. “Nothing, why?” You responded.

“Nothing, it's just your quieter than usual. You usually talk non-stop about your day, even oversharing some stuff that I don't even need or want to kno..”

“I'm just tired,” You said, cutting Lewis off.

Oversharing stuff that you don't even need or want to know? Well, I'm sorry if I talk to much and I'm sorry that I choose to spend my remaining energy communicating with my fiancé how my day went.

YN is fuming mad in her mind but chooses not to say a word. She just doesn't want to start an argument when he just apologized.

He meant it when he said that he'll make it up to you. He brought you to your favorite restaurant, a place you cannot resist. You are enjoying your food and when his phone rang.

“I'm sorry, love. I think I need to go. I need to go to the headquarters right now. If you want, I can drive you home first before I go to the hq or...”

“No, it's okay. You can go. I'll finish my food,” You replied, not daring to look into his eyes.

“I'm sorry, love. Text or call me when you get home, okay?” Lewis said, before planting a kiss on your temple and leaving you behind.

“One bottle of red wine, please.” You finish every drop of the bottle before commuting home.

“I'll make it up to you, my ass,” You said as your removed your heels while entering your office. There you saw the newly printed out guest list without the name of his ex-girlfriend slash first love on it.

“What do I even have against her? She was your first love, a beautiful and mature woman, and you still can't forget her. And I'm just your fiancé, whom you apparently met when you broke up with her, whom apparently overshare even though you don't want to know about it” You said, tipsy walking towards your bed.

You lay down on your bed and stared at the ceiling for as long as your consciousness can hold.

Am I even doing the right thing? Is it still right to marry you? Won't I regret marrying you?

“Well, divorce is a thing,” You said before finally closing your eyes and slumbering.

The day came. You're in your white wedding gown, full glammed. You are fidgeting with your engagement ring.

You were asked to have your own personal vows prior to your wedding day. But until the very moment, you haven't written a single thing on the paper given to you.

You took a deep breath and wrote everything you wanted to say to Lewis before the ceremony started.

“Y/N, let's go no.. YN?” Your bridesmaid entered the room and found no bride in white dress.

The door of the venue opened, but it was not the bride who walked in the aisle. It was her bridesmaid rapidly walking towards Lewis with a note in her hand. It was not a vow but a farewell letter to him.

“I'm sorry, Lewis. You are free now. I'm letting you go, my love. Thank you for everything, for the wonderful years we have spent together. Thank you for the love that you made me feel. I love you Lewis. I'm sorry.”

“No, this can't be happening.” Lewis ran towards your room. He look at every place where he thought he can find you.

[jukeboxsweethearttt]

OlderSugarDaddyBoyfriend!Rafe Headcannons💋

inspired by @starfxkr ‘s SugarDaddy!Rafe

song in mind

SFW

• He has 3 daughters and they’re just happy their dad and mom aren’t in that toxic ass marriage anymore but that’s the only reason they tolerate you being that much younger than their dad.

• His oldest daughter is 5 years older than you, His middle is the same age as you and his youngest is three years younger than you.

• He’s 52 while you’re 21 so you have a 31 year age gap;)

• I imagine you living in like New York or New Jersey and he met you on a business trip while he was still married to his wife.

• The two of you were messing around for 3 months before his wife filed for divorce (she was having a 4 year long affair with Rafe’s business partner but we’ll talk about her more later)

• The day before the two of you met your parents threatened to cut you off and make you get a job after you got into a fight at the club with a girl and they had to bail you out of jail.

• But luckily for you, you met Rafe and you’ll never have to work again;)

• Moves you into his house 4 months after his divorce is finalized (his youngest daughter still lives with him because she wouldn’t stay with her mom either way)

• The old ladies who thought they would have a chance with Rafe after the divorce despise you.

• His nicknames for you: Bunny,Minx,Princess and Your actual name he’s not big on nicknames

• Your nicknames for him: Daddy Or Old man no in between :)

NSFW

• You would think him being a old man would effect his stamina but hadn’t so much of gave him a handjob for years before their divorce so he uses all that pent up “aggression” and it matches your young hyper sexualness

• Never uses protection because you claim “he’s an old man with no more swimmers.” and you live by that until you end up pregnant… Twice and his daughters are lowkey pissed

• He’s so old and matured so I know he gives THE BEST head and doesn’t expect anything in return like the boys your age do

• He wasn’t a big fan of PDA when he was with his wife but he loves when you shove your tongue down his throat in public to make people uncomfortable

• Idk something is telling me he likesfeet like he loves missionary because he’s still an old man so he loves sticking your big toe in his mouth and sucking it while he gives you deep strokes.

• 9 inches , cut subtle curve to the left , peachy pink tip with a tan ish base, full this just has the perfect amount of girth bigger than any one you’ve been with younger than him

That’s all I can think of for now!! If you have any suggestions on what I should write about him plz send an ask!!💋💋💋

[pycth]

Happy Father’s Day to Gabe Shaw

You can really see who David gets his looks from :)

(I know I promised certain people this was gonna be a wholesome post, but the parasites in me always win—)

A lil fun fact, David had been growing out his hair since Highschool with minimal care, but after Gabe passed he cut it short (kind of like Gabe’s in fact) because his depression had begun to make it hard to manage while also taking on the role as Pack Alpha so much sooner than he had ever expected.

The first time he cut it was in the bathroom the night before Gabe’s funeral. He didn’t exactly know what he was doing, but he was desperate to rid himself of some kind of weight he carried.

It was a mess. At some point he stopped trying to perfect it and blindly cut here and there as tears fogged his vision of the miserable reflection in front of him.

When he finally allowed himself to breath and get a good look at the damage, he felt as if the man he had lost was staring right back at him, saddened by the sight of his son in dismay. He broke down, silently as not wake his roommate who had already spent several restless nights comforting his best friend.

The next morning, greeted by the sight of David’s attempt to cope, Asher managed to convince David let him take him to go get his hair touched up before the funeral—not that there was much protest on his part.

Seeing it cleaned up by the proper tools in the right hands made him feel little better. But the burden still sat heavy on his shoulders. He was the Alpha now, he needed to look like he had it together. He needed to have it together.

He’s gotten it cut that way ever since.

[sophrosynesworld]

Yeah, Best Friends

Katsuki Bakugo calls you during a panic attack seeking comfort.

“Hello?” I mumble groggily as I answer my phone, rolling over and fumbling to switch on the lamp beside my bed. The sudden brightness stings my eyes, my eyelids droop heavily as I wait for a response.

Silence.

I rub my eyes, blinking at the screen to make sure the call hasn't been disconnected. Bakugo’s contact name and photo glare back at me.

“Bakugo, are you there?” I ask, my voice still rough from the early morning wakeup. I sit up slightly, my curiosity piqued. The other line remains quiet. Just as I’m about to end the call, I hear it—a muffled cry from the other end.

“Bakugo?” I repeat, “Is everything okay?”

There’s a pause, followed by a shaky breath. “Yeah,” he finally replies, but his voice is uncharacteristically soft.

“What’s going on?” I question him again, my concern growing. The silence between us stretches thin, filled only with his ragged breathing.

“I… I didn’t know who else to call,” he admits, his voice cracking. “I didn’t want to be alone.”

My heart aches. “I’m here, Bakugo. I’m not going anywhere. Just talk to me.”

“I can’t,” his voice breaks off as he struggles to keep his composure, “I keep seeing it. The explosion, the screams… I can't get it out of my head.”

I throw the covers off and get out of bed, balancing the phone between my ear and shoulder as I pull on a pair of jeans. “It’s okay, Suki . You’re safe now. It’s just a memory.”

“But it feels so real,” he whispers, his voice strained. “I can’t breathe, I can’t—”

“Listen to me,” I interrupt, “Focus on my voice. Take a deep breath, in and out. You’re not there anymore. You’re here, with me. Just breathe.”

I can hear him trying to follow my instructions, his breaths shaky. "That’s it. Keep breathing. You’re doing great.”

I quickly pull on a sweater and grab my keys. “Why does this keep happening?” he asks, “I’m supposed to be strong. I shouldn’t be like this.”

“You are strong,” I assure him, pulling on my shoes and heading for the door. “How many times a week do I call you crying? That doesn’t make me weak, does it?”

There’s a long silence, then a soft “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” I lock my apartment door behind me. “I’m always here for you, Bakugo. We’ll get through this together.”

His breathing steadies further, “Yeah,” he murmurs. “Together.”

“Stay on the line with me,” I say, heading down the stairs and out into the cool night air. “I’m coming over.”

“What? You don’t have to—” he starts, but I cut him off.

“I want to,” I insist. “You don’t have to be alone right now.”

There’s a pause, then a quiet, “Okay.”

I pick up my pace, eager to get to him. “What’s on your mind?”

He hesitates, “It’s just… everything’s been piling up. The expectations, the pressure… I thought I could handle it, but tonight it just… it’s just harder tonight.”

“What happened?” I ask softly, turning a corner and quickening my steps.

“Everything started flooding back. The memories… when I was a kid,” his voice wavers. “I was always told to be strong. My quirk was so powerful, everyone expected so much from me. I couldn’t show weakness, not ever. And the explosions… they weren’t always under control.”

I listen intently, offering words of comfort and encouragement as I make my way to his place. “You were just a kid, Bakugo. It wasn’t fair for them to put so much on your shoulders.”

“I know that now,” he says, a hint of bitterness in his voice. “But back then, every mistake felt like a failure. I couldn’t control it… I saw the fear in their eyes, the way they looked at me like I was a monster.”

“You’re not a monster,” I scold him. “You’ve grown so much since then, I mean, I am quite literally best friends with the number 3 hero.”

“Thanks for reminding me of that,” I can’t see him, but I can feel his eyes roll. “Sometimes it feels like I’m right back there. I can hear people screaming my name, begging me to save them.”

I reach his building and buzz his apartment. “You’re not alone in this anymore. We’re all here for you.”

Moments later, the door buzzes open and I hurry inside, taking the stairs two at a time. When I reach his door, it opens slowly, revealing Bakugo looking more fragile than I’ve ever seen him.

Without a word, I pull him into a hug, feeling his tension melt away as he clings to me. “Thank you,” he whispers again, his voice muffled against my shoulder.

“Anytime,” I reply softly. “I’m here for you, Bakugo. Always.”

He steps back, his eyes glassy. “I didn’t want to be weak,” he confesses, his voice barely audible.

“You’re not weak,” I assure him. “You’re human, and humans need each other. We’re stronger together.”

He nods, a small, smile forming on his lips. “Together,” he echoes.

“Now, let’s get you settled,” I say, guiding him back into his apartment.

He squeezes my hand, his grip firm and reassuring. “Thank you,” he repeats, his voice steadier now. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You don’t have to find out,” I reply with a smile. “I’m your best friend for a reason.”

His smile falls, an unknown expression forming in his eyes. “Yeah, best friends.”

[wcbblife]

You & Me

a/n: finally finished my pazzi draft yall... hope you enjoy

Warnings: kinda nsfw at the end so read at your own risk.

Summary: Paige can't help but get a little a jealous when she sees Azzi with another man. So, she decides to talk to her.

_

Paige knew it wasn’t her place. It really wasn’t.

But she couldn't suppress the ugly feeling tugging at her heart as she watched Azzi double over in laughter while talking to someone—a freshman—from the men’s team. The way Azzi's fingers lightly caressed his bicep to stop the flow of jokes spilling from his lips. The way he smiled at her, letting his other hand land on top of hers.

It was only when Aubrey nudged her shoulder and whispered, "You’re staring too hard, bro," that Paige finally broke out of her trance.

She knew she shouldn’t storm up to them and separate them with a nasty shove to the guy. She knew she should just sit tight and look pretty while the cameras were likely pointed toward her or the dancers in front of her. The nails on her hands were digging into her arm, no doubt leaving marks. She just couldn't tear her eyes away, no matter how hard she tried.

“What?” Paige cleared her throat, suddenly feeling shy. Her tough exterior would only get her so far with her best friend, who knew her too well.

“I said the three-point contest is about to start.” Aubrey snickered, walking away to join the blue team.

“Shut up,” Paige murmured, following closely behind. By the time she got together with her team, Azzi was lost in the sea of white and dark blue, and Paige had no way of knowing if the man was still close to her. She didn’t get any time to sit and think about it, being whisked around to get ready for the contest.

Almost immediately, she hears the sounds of the net swishing and the basketballs hitting the rims. After a bit, her eyes land on none other than Azzi. She watches closely as Azzi makes shot after shot with little to no problem, much to the amusement of the crowd. The smile on Azzi’s face after releasing the last ball makes Paige swoon, and she glances around, hoping that it would help the blood pooling in her cheeks to dissipate.

The only problem is that she sees Azzi moving back to let the next participant go, the man steps up to her, nudging her shoulder, and leaning down due to their significant height difference to whisper something. Paige knows it's a compliment or something along the lines of “I could never do that,” as she watches Azzi’s dimples just barely show.

The feeling gnaws even harder at Paige, causing her to drum her fingers impatiently against her thighs and her jaw to tighten. She can't help but notice how Azzi never moves away, and how they seem to brush against each other every time they sway side to side while waiting for the contest to finish.

Caroline walks up to them and starts a conversation, which—much to Paige’s relief—causes him to move away a bit. Azzi’s eyes move between the two before finally locking onto Paige, who is still staring. Azzi smiles at something Caroline says, licking her lips and fixing her pants, still zeroed in on Paige. This causes Paige’s heart to thrum uncontrollably in her ribcage, even when Azzi’s eyes go back to Caroline and the guy.

It knocks what little patience and focus Paige had straight out of her body.

“Dude! Seriously, how many times do I have to call you to stop gawking?” Aubrey stands in front of her with an incredulous smile. “Make it at least a bit less obvious, will ya?”

Paige lets out a breathy laugh, scratching her head. “I need to get outta here, bro.”

“Tell me about it,” Aubrey jokes back. “Might just walk right on out.”

“Yeah, right. And let Geno scream at us next practice? No thanks.”

Aubrey chuckles. “Hey, I’m not the one desperate to get outta here for their girl—” Paige cuts her off with a light nudge, causing Aubrey to burst into laughter.

“Stop it, dude.” Paige sulks, looking around for Azzi again, feeling her stomach drop at seeing her absent from her last spot.

“Relax. We’ll be done in a bit.”

Paige knew better. She knew it was in her best interest to heed Azzi’s warning of “don’t be so obvious in public.” She knew she should be on her best behavior with so many eyes on them, acting like they were nothing more than friends.

She also knew she shouldn’t feel so stupidly useless and jealous when Azzi talked to someone else because they weren’t officially a thing. They hadn’t slapped a title on it yet.

Ugh, she thought, as she smiled prettily for the group picture, wrapping a friendly arm around her teammates. Paige made a mental note to bring it up at a better time.

“Alrighty everybody,” a woman in the middle of the court chirped, “We’ve officially ended the first night! Make sure you exit in an orderly manner and we hope to see you next year.” The crowd erupted in a mix of cheers and applause as the athletes started making their way out of the court and into the tunnels.

Paige made a beeline to her locker room, hoping to catch Azzi alone, but once she arrived, she found herself alone. One by one, her teammates trickled into the room—courtesy of Nika texting in their chat to meet there—and it wasn’t until Paige actually got up to search for Azzi that she found herself face-to-face with her.

Azzi was giggling when she entered, and Paige let out a breath of relief. Her hands fidgeted, muscles twitching under her skin to reach forward toward Azzi once she met her big brown eyes, but like she had done all night, she held herself back.

Instead, she walked wordlessly into the team huddle, her breath catching a bit as Azzi slotted herself right next to her, wrapping her hands around Paige’s waist. She tuned out the remainder of Geno’s speech as Azzi found the audacity to toy with the stretch band of her shorts, pulling on it. She slipped a finger into the edge of them, and when Paige looked over at her, she was smiling cheekily.

“Alright, now get out of here. I'm tired,” Geno ended his speech, and the girls screamed. Azzi dragged Paige into the team where they all did a short chant before finally walking out of the room.

Finally, they reached a quieter part of the complex. Azzi pulled Paige into an empty room, away from prying eyes.

As they made their way through the tunnels, Paige’s heart raced. The crowded hallways buzzed, and she tried to keep her cool.

Azzi stayed close, their fingers brushing every now and then, sending shivers down Paige’s spine.

She couldn’t wait to get a moment alone with her.

“Azzi,” Paige muttered.

“Yeah?” Azzi's eyes fluttered, looking up at Paige.

“We gotta talk.”

Azzi smirked, “We do?” she teased, stepping closer, her hand grazing Paige's arm. “What about?”

Paige's breath hitched. “You know what about.”

Azzi chuckled softly, leaning in until her lips were mere inches from Paige’s. “You always get so serious,” she whispered, her breath warm against Paige's skin. “Maybe I like seeing you like this.”

Paige's heart pounded, her resolve weakening by the second. “Azzi, please…”

“Please, what?” Azzi’s voice was low, almost a purr. She backed Paige against the wall, her hands sliding up Paige’s sides, sending shivers down her spine. “Please stop? Or please don’t stop?”

Paige swallowed hard, her mind racing. “We need to figure this out,” she managed to say, though her voice wavered.

Azzi’s eyes softened for a moment before the teasing glint returned. “Okay, let’s figure it out,” she said, her tone playful. “But maybe we start with this.”

Azzi pulled back slightly, her forehead resting against Paige’s. “We’ll talk,” she promised, her voice a soft murmur. “But right now, let’s just enjoy this.”

Before Paige could respond, Azzi closed the distance, capturing Paige’s lips in a slow, tantalizing kiss. Paige's world tilted, the kiss overwhelming her senses completely as she melted into Azzi, her hands finally finding their way to Azzi’s waist, pulling her closer.

Paige nodded, her heart racing almost painfully in her chest. “Yeah,” she whispered, a smile tugging at her lips. “Let’s enjoy this.”

Azzi grinned, her fingers trailing lightly up and down Paige’s arms, knowing the blonde liked it a little too much. “You’re so cute when you’re trying to be serious,” she teased. “I can’t help but want to mess with you a little.”

Paige felt a blush creep up her neck. “Azzi, come on…”

Azzi’s smile widened. “What? I’m just having a bit of fun. You like it, don’t you?” She leaned in, her lips brushing against Paige’s ear. “Admit it.” Her fingers slip under the hem of Paige’s shirt, tracing patterns on her skin.

Paige’s eyes fluttered shut, her head tilting back. “Maybe,” she admitted reluctantly.

Azzi’s laughter was soft and warm. “Thought so.” She moved even closer, her body pressing against Paige’s.

Paige tried to steady her breath. “I didn’t like seeing you with that freshman,” She confessed softly, looking away.

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Oh, is that what this is about? You were jealous?”

Paige's blush deepened. “Maybe.”

Azzi chuckled, her breath warm against Paige’s neck. “You don’t have to worry about him. He’s just a kid.” Her lips brushed Paige’s ear again. “Besides, I only have eyes for you.”

Paige's heart skipped a beat. “Really?”

“Really,” Azzi whispered, her lips trailing down to Paige’s collarbone. “You’re the one I want, Paige. Always have been.”

Paige’s breath got caught as Azzi’s lips met hers again, more passionately this time. The jealousy, the confusion, it all melted away. This was what she wanted, what she needed. And finally, they were on the same page.

Azzi, feeling the effect she had over Paige, decided to push a little further. “You know,” she murmured against Paige’s lips, “seeing you all worked up was kind of a turn-on.”

Paige’s eyes widened. “Azzi…”

“What?” Azzi’s grin was wicked at this point. “I like knowing no one else can have this kind of effect on you but me.”

Paige’s breath came faster, her pulse pounding in her ears. “You’re unbelievable.”

Azzi’s hand slid lower, making Paige gasp. “Admit it. You love it when I tease you.”

She could barely form words, her thoughts were a mush of everything. “I… I do,” she finally managed, her voice barely a whisper.

"Good girl.”

Paige was helpless to resist, surrendering completely to Azzi. 

[yoongiseesawmp3]

too sweet - san

summary: model!san x designer!reader. it's love at first sight when you see san. he's perfect...for your runway show! he's the top model right now, and everyone wants him. you want him a little more, but we'll unpack that later. can you get the it boy into your collection?

word count: 8.6k

warnings: afab reader

masterlist

"how many more?" you whine, collapsing onto the table in front of you. your dramatics shuffle all of the model cards out of order after you spent the last hour organizing them. your system is ruined, so your mood goes too. the only thing to pull you back to reality is jen, your right hand man. she pulls you up, encouraging words on her lips, and gets to reordering the cards you just messed up.

"we only have a few more," she reminds you. "and the last few have been good! i think we'll have plenty of options for your show."

"yeah, the girls have been great," you agree. "but the guys are all meh. i thought i was being all forward thinking doing a coed collection but now i wish i hadn't."

"oh come on," jen nudges you. "these guys were hot!"

"they're pretty, but this guy tripped, this one didn't bring a portfolio, and this one has conflicts from now until the show," you list off. "i need at least two more, or i'll have to cut the men's pieces."

"we'll find one," jen ruffles your hair. "you want me to go bring in the next model?"

"nah, we've got a few more minutes on our break," you tell her. "i'm gonna go get a coffee, do you need anything?"

"a water is fine," she replies as you slip out the door. you try to avoid the waiting area so you won't run into any potential models. you make it to the coffee machine down the hall, and of course it's just your luck that there's a tall skinny man already there.

"y/n?" he smiles. "i didn't know this was your show!"

"seonghwa?" you smile back. "i swear, you get taller every time i see you."

"what can i say? i eat my wheaties," he jokes, pulling you in for a polite hug. "how long have you had this gig?"

"few months," you reply. "i've been shitting bricks the whole time."

"i'm sure," he nods. "but you're doing a great job. i've never seen this many top models in the same place for years. everyone wants to walk for you."

"well that's very flattering," you mumble. "but you'd think 'top models' would come more prepared. half of these bozos have not impressed me."

"she's talented and determined," seonghwa notes. "guess i gotta bring my a game."

"i guess you do," you tease him. "hey, you don't know anyone who could come audition before the end of the day, do you? i need more guys."

"i could make a few calls," he thinks. "what do you have in mind?"

"is it too vain to say someone sexy?" you laugh. "we're looking for someone intimidating, good walk, strong features. it's a dramatic piece so i want someone unique."

"i might know a guy," seonghwa nods.

"anyone i'd know?"

"i guess you'll know when you see him," he replies. "i gotta go, i think i'm next, so-"

"right, right, go make yourself pretty," you tell him. "it was so good to see you!"

"you too," he smiles at you genuinely. "proud of you."

"hey, no shmoozing before your audition."

-

seonghwa got a place in your show, obviously. now you only need one more guy. jen convinced you the tripper could work with some help, and there was another model from earlier in the day that you think deserves a call. you still need someone for your final piece, though, and you're running out of hope.

"so how do you know seonghwa again?" jen asks as you wait for the last model to show. "and how well do you know him? and how well would he like to know me?"

"we worked together a few years ago," you laugh. "he was one of the models in my first show."

"so you gave him his big break? he's indebted to you?" jen asks. "he has to make it up to you by, i don't know, going on a date with your best friend and best stylist?"

"we'll see," you frown. "you know i don't like messing with models."

"i hate that rule," jen mumbles as she sits back in her seat. "where's this last model? i wanna go home."

"seonghwa said he pulled a favor getting him here," you explain as you check your phone. "so he might be running behind. i can wait for him if you wanna go."

"no, if he's anything like seonghwa i want to be here to ogle him."

at that, there's a knock at the door, and you call out for them to come in. who steps through the door is maybe the most beautiful man you've ever seen. he's striking, strong, and smiling shyly like he's not used to having eyes on him despite his profession.

"hi, i hope i'm not too late?" he asks, standing by the door.

"no," you quickly reply. "not at all, come in. you're seonghwa's friend?"

"yep," he confirms, walking up to hand you the most professional looking portfolio you've seen all day. and this guy wasn't even expecting to walk! no way you're hiring those other losers now. "i'm san."

"san, hi," you smile at him, and jen stifles a laugh next to you. somebody's smitten, she thinks, but she won't say anything just yet. "i'm y/n, i'm the designer, and this is jen, my stylist."

"nice to meet you," jen presents her hand, and san tentatively shakes it. "firm handshake, i like it. you have soft hands."

"thanks?" he laughs nervously. "um, so do i just-"

"yes, yes," you motion for him to head to the back of the room. "whenever you're ready."

as if you weren't already convinced this was the guy for you (i mean, for your show) then his walk sold it. his presence is so commanding, his movements so precise, and you've never seen someone with such perfect posture. it makes you sit up straighter as he walks toward you, and you almost swoon when he winks at you before turning around. you squeeze jen's hand under the table, and when san finishes his walk you fight the urge to applaud.

"that was great!" jen comments once san is finished. "y/n, what did you think?"

"you're perfect," you breathe out, and jen nudging you brings you back to earth. "uh, for the collection."

"thanks," san smiles proudly. "hopefully i'll hear from you soon."

"hopefully you will," you smile back. "thanks for coming on such short notice."

"it was my pleasure," san says, waving as he ducks out into the hall. as soon as the door is shut, you turn to jen and say, "i love him."

"i know you do," she laughs. "so is he in the show?"

"in the show?" you scoff. "he is the show. he's exactly what i was imagining. i want ten more of him."

"i'm sure you'd like that," she says with a waggle of her eyebrows.

"stop," you roll your eyes. "i just said i don't mess with models."

"mhm," jen nods. "so who else are we casting? we have one spot for sure..."

-

san and seonghwa were cast immediately. well, maybe not immediately. you both looked through their portfolios, ooh'ing and aah'ing over their looks before deciding they had to be in the show. when you and jen decided on the next two male models quickly, you figured this would be an easy discussion. wrong! you have four female models you're willing to fight tooth and nail for, and jen has her own four that she's just as committed to. you've been deliberating for a while now, so you decide to take a break. you head to that same break room you met seonghwa in earlier, and you thought briefly about taking san's portfolio with you. for research purposes, obviously, but you decided against it.

as soon as you step into the hallway, you hear faint sounds of music. not unusual for this studio space, but still, you proceed with caution. you don't want to interrupt anybody, so you walk quietly until you find the the source of the sound. it's san! and he's...dancing?

"oh god, sorry," he bumbles as soon as he sees you. he rushes to his phone, propped against the window in front of him. "god. that's embarrassing."

"what were you doing?" you smile at him.

"embarrassing myself," he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. he wiggles his phone in the air and explains, "my agent wants me to post more, says it'll help me get booked, and he sent me a couple tiktok trends he wants me to do. so i was.."

"dancin' your heart out?" you tease, and he blushes.

"you could say that," he smiles shyly, again making it seem like he's not used to having attention on him. does he know he's a model?

"wait, how long have you been out here?" you ask, worried he might have heard you and jen (mostly you) gawking over his portfolio.

"just a few minutes," he shrugs. "part of why i was able to come walk for you is because of another audition i had on the other side of this building. so i was over there for a while, and came back here to humiliate myself in front of my favorite designer, it seems."

"your favorite, huh?" you ask. "good thing we've cast my show already, otherwise i'd think you're sucking up."

"damn, so i'm too late?" san laughs.

"who else is auditioning models here?" you change the subject.

"kim hongjoong?" san says it like a question, and you nod in recognition.

"he's good," you hum. "i hope you don't get it though."

"what?" san balks. "why?"

"because i want you in my show," you shrug. "and i don't wanna fight hongjoong for you, even though i know i'd win."

"you sure about that?" san asks. "he's been working out, i hear."

"oh i could so take him," you assure san. "i'm a biter." you notice a flicker in san's eyes, a hint of something, but you feel yourself blushing and cough so you have an excuse to cover your face. "excuse me. i should probably go, we've got a few more models to cast.."

"wait, so you just drop the bomb that i'm in your show and then you're gone?" san asks, following you down the hall. "how do i know you're serious?"

"because you have my word," you furrow your eyebrows. "but if you really need the confirmation, i'm sure my people will call your people soon." as if on cue, san's phone starts buzzing, still perched on the window. san looks to it, then you. you feel vindicated as you turn and walk on to the break room with a flick of your hair over your shoulder, leaving a stunned model and the smell of peaches in your wake.

-

all the models have been cast, and it's the morning of your first fitting. you slept in your studio last night because you had so much work to do. it was mostly tiny alterations to ensure the pieces fit their new models, but you also spent half the night cleaning. you don't let people into your studio usually, or if you do, it's people that know you well enough to know you and your work are a mess. but today, you're the boss. you need to look put together, and so does your studio.

you're standing by the door, taking everything in, and decide that this is as clean as you'll get it. there's still fabric, zippers, stray threads strewn all over your work tables, but you're a designer. that's normal. if the models have complaints they can deal. being next to the door, you hear something in the hall, but write it off as one of your artistic neighbors at work. you start to walk away, toward your coffee station in the back, when the doorknob to your studio jiggles. you hear a quiet "shit" and then a polite knock, so you walk over cautiously. one look through the peephole reveals who it is.

"san?" you ask, opening the door. "what are you doing here?"

"realizing i am," he checks his ridiculously expensive watch, "an hour early for my fitting. sorry." he adds a sheepish smile at the end and you fight the urge to coo. he looks like he just woke up, and that he definitely rushed here. his clothes are mussed, hair in a beanie to hide it not being done, eyes puffy with sleep. still, he looks perfect.

"was the email confusing?" you ask. "i was worried that-"

"no," he shakes his head. "no, i was just, um, i'm really excited," he explains shyly. "i almost couldn't sleep last night, so when i woke up this morning i thought i had overslept. i should've checked."

"no worries," you say as you blush. he was excited? for a fitting? man must love his job. "here, come in. i just finished cleaning, so you get first dibs on space. there's a couch in the back if you want to nap before we get started."

"how long have you been here?" san asks, looking around at the studio. he sees a lot of chaos, but it's beautiful chaos. colors that compliment each other perfectly, strange techniques that have made something stunning. he can't believe he'll be part of this show.

"uh, since last night," you admit, finally reaching your coffee machine. "i had a lot to do."

"you slept here?" san frowns, tossing his stuff onto a table before joining you. he leans against the wall as he watches you.

"yeah," you shrug. "i hate waking up early, so it saved me from getting here grumpy if anything."

"but did you rest?" he asks, looking out at the studio. "this is a big space for one person to clean."

"jen helped," you tell him. "she was here last night to bring over the shoes for each outfit."

"which one is mine?" san asks with an eager smile.

"wouldn't you like to know?" you stick your tongue out at him for good measure. "yours isn't out here. it's so big i had to keep it in my office, i couldn't move it out here by myself."

"it's big?" he looks a little scared.

"that may not be the right word," you think. "it's heavy, so that's why i needed someone strong to wear it."

"you think i'm strong?" san smirks, and you blush. "how'd you know?"

your mind thinks to his portfolio still sitting on your desk, full to the brim of him in scantily clad photoshoots. you've seen pictures of his chest, his abs, his arms. muscles that had to take hours in the gym to sculpt. you wonder shyly if his portfolio is still on your desk, open to a picture of him in a pink outfit with a hint of his chest on display. you'll have to cover it quickly if it is.

"i asked seonghwa how you two met, and he said you go to the same snooty model gym," you explain, which is the truth. seonghwa had been in a couple shows with san before they became friends, but it took the two of them working out together to actually become buddies. they've been looking out for each other ever since, seonghwa told you. san seems to think your explanation was enough, so he hums and nods before turning his attention back to your collection.

"so how did you and seonghwa meet?" he asks casually. you tell him about your first show, as an independent designer no less, and how seonghwa found you stress crying backstage. as you always do when describing seonghwa, you stress how your relationship was friendly, but nothing more. you never want anyone to think you're fooling around with one of your models. but san finds himself thinking, hm, that means seonghwa isn't his competition.

"do you want anything to drink?" your voice pulling san from his thoughts. he looks at you, cupping a warm mug of coffee, and smiles.

"no, thank you," he says. "i try not to have anything before a fitting, i never want to mess up the sizing and put more work on the designer."

"san that doesn't sound healthy," you frown. "and what kind of designer is sticking you in clothes so skin tight you can't have a glass of water? i need names."

"it's a lot of them, i'm afraid," he laughs. "most people cast me expecting to show off my abs, or something else, so i don't have much space to mess up during show season."

"yeah, you are always showing some kind of skin," you think about it.

"you been studying me?" san teases, and you blush.

"i'm a designer, it's my job," you mumble. "i reviewed everyone's portfolio thoroughly."

"what was seonghwa's last shoot then?" san quizzes you. you make a guess, but you get it wrong. "and what was mine?"

"vogue, right?" you answer immediately, and san responds with a shit eating grin.

"i'm so telling hwa i'm your favorite model now," he says, resting against the wall again as he folds his arms over his chest. his very muscled arms, and his broad-

"knock knock!" jen shouts from the door. she steps inside and asks, "you know you didn't lock this- oh hey san."

"good morning," he nods to her. "nice to see you again."

"nice to see you too, so bright and early," jen says as she looks at you. "how long have we been here?"

"me since last night, san since a few minutes ago. he didn't read the email."

"i read the email!" he whines. "i was just excited!"

"that's sweet," jen coos as she dumps bags onto one of your worktables. "i hope i'm not interrupting anything?"

"jen, do you have a favorite model?" san asks, and she thinks for a moment.

"no, i don't," she shakes her head. "there's too many good ones, so it depends on the day. why do you ask?"

"i just found out i'm y/n's favorite," san explains with a smile.

"you just found out?" jen laughs, and you groan. san looks like he's gonna say something else but you speak before he can.

"hey, since y'all are both here, come help me move this table," you command. "we need space for the models to walk." they do as you say, but share a knowing look while you're distracted. it's a bad thing to have your best friend and your crush in cahoots, but you'll figure that out later.

-

since san was here early, you got to work on his fitting first. jen finished setting up the workroom while you and san went to your office. jen made a show of putting headphones in to listen to music, and you wanted to pinch her so hard. she's making it obvious that you have a thing for san, and you're hoping beyond hope he doesn't notice.

"oh my god," he whispers when you open the door to your office, revealing the piece you've dedicated the past few months to. "that's incredible."

"you like it?" you turn to him, unsure. "it's a lot, i know."

"i love it," he smiles from ear to ear. "i've never worn something like this before."

"i hope no one has," you laugh nervously. "i tried a technique to emulate fur, so i'm hoping this is a super cool fashion innovation that'll take the industry by storm."

"how'd you do it?" san asks, looking at the piece in awe. "and how long did it take?"

"so, i shredded pounds and pounds of natural fabric until it looked so fine it could be a better alternative to faux fur," you explain. "and it took me about...four months?" san whistles lowly, his hands twitching at his sides. "you can touch it if you want."

"i want to put it on," he turns to you excitedly. "how do you want me to wear it?"

"don't hate me," you beg. "since this is such a big piece, and i want it to draw attention, i don't have a shirt for you."

"that's ok," san nods. "adds to the natural element."

"exactly," you smile, blushing anyway. "and there's just white pants underneath, for contrast. they should be super comfy, to make up for the workout you'll get walking around in the jacket."

"i can't wait," san says happily. he turns to you fully, looking between the outfit and you. "do you want me to strip, or...?"

"oh god, let me turn around," you say. "the pants are on the desk. let me know when you have them on."

"you're very polite," san chuckles. "most designers try to manage every single thing, including how models get dressed."

"it's pants," you scoff. "if you can't put pants on how did you get out the house?"

"i'm ready," he says, and you turn back to find him in the pants, yes, but still with his shirt on.

"um, do you mind?" you ask, tugging at the neckline of your own shirt hoping he gets the hint. it distracts him just enough that you have to call his name, and he looks at you with a hum. "can you, uh, take your shirt off?" he responds with actions, pulling his shirt off in one swift motion. you squeak out, "great!" and then shuffle toward the mannequin. "i might need help lifting this."

"no worries," he hurries to your aid, his hands brushing yours as you push the jacket off the form. "wow, this is no joke."

"if it's too heavy i can-"

"i can handle it," san says firmly. "help me into it?"

you hold up one side while san slips his arm in, and then help him into the rest. you take a step closer, trying to fasten the clasp on the front, but it won't meet. you struggle for a minute, hands ghosting so softly over san's chest. he doesn't realize he's holding his breath until your voice pulls him from his focus.

"what?" he looks down at you. "why are you frowning? it looks great."

"it doesn't fit over your chest," you pout. "i thought i had your measurements right-"

"oh, sorry, i've been working out," san admits. "and i think i gave you an old portfolio since i was in a rush, so my information may not be up to date..."

"shit," you mumble, and san tries to fix the situation. he starts tugging at the jacket, but you gasp and grab his hands, stilling them instantly. you look at him sternly as you instruct, "i'll make it fit, you just have to wear it. please don't do my job for me."

"sorry," san whispers. you're so close he could just lean down and kiss that pout from your lips, but that wouldn't be professional of him. but boy does he want to.

"before you take it off, let me find your shoes," you look around. "i want to see the whole look together...maybe jen knows where they are."

you open your office door and peek your head out, gasping at what you find. jen is pushed up against one of your work tables, and seonghwa is standing before her holding her waist like she could slip away at any moment. they're making out like they've done this before, and you clear your throat to get their attention.

"hi," seonghwa mewls. "this isn't what it looks like."

"looks like two of my employees are goofing off when they should be doing their jobs," you mumble, wandering around the studio. "jen, where are san's shoes?"

"um, by the door?" she guesses. "i didn't see his outfit in here, so i didn't know where to put them."

"it's in my office," you respond. "that's why i took him in there."

"i didn't know," she shrugs. you find the shoes and then glare at them, but neither one takes you seriously.

"seonghwa, your outfit is labeled with your name. it's an easy piece, simple closures, so you shouldn't need any help getting it on," you explain. "jen, come here. we have a problem."

"holy shit, you look awesome," jen says as soon as she sees san. she looks at you and asks, "what's wrong with it?"

"his chest is too broad," you frown again, staring at san's chest. "i can't get the jacket to close."

"he can't hold it when he walks?" jen suggests, and san tries it out. you start shaking your head before he finishes, and he actually whines when he sees your reaction.

"no, it's gonna fall off your shoulders if you do that," you say. "i want it to stay in place, and i need the clasp to work for that to happen."

"so what are you gonna do?" jen asks.

"not sleep until i fix it?" you reply. you look at her in defeat and add, "i don't know what else i can do."

"can i help?" san offers, but you shake your head again as jen says, "yes, you can." you try to protest, but she cuts you off.

"he can cut the initial shreds!" she offers. "then you do your magic putting them into the jacket. it takes out a step for you so hopefully it'll be quicker."

"what she said," san butts in. "let me help, please."

"i can't pay you for your extra time," you say softly. "i don't want to impose-"

"don't care," san shakes his head. "i've got nothing else going on."

"perfect!" jen claps her hands together. "you two figure that out, i'm gonna check on hwa..."

-

the rest of the fitting goes well. it's perfect, actually. you have the best models you've ever worked with, every piece fits, and the collection looks beautiful all together. you tear up watching them all walk before you, and the piece san is wearing literally makes a hush fall over the room. he still walks toward you with a wink, but this time it doesn't affect you as much. you're too focused on how much time it'll take to add a couple more inches to the coat. when san finishes, everyone looks to you expectantly, and it takes jen calling your name for your mind to catch up with your mouth.

"i don't know what to say," you admit. "you all did an amazing job, and this was just a fitting! imagine what this show will look like on a real stage. um, a couple things to note..."

once you finish your boss spiel, the models all start changing and leave one by one. you make sure to thank them all before they leave, and in a few minutes it's just you, jen, and san left.

"seonghwa didn't wanna stick around?" you ask jen.

"you scared him," she replies. "he left so fast i'm surprised he didn't leave a trail of smoke."

"i'll talk to him," you brush it off. "keep your paws off him in my studio though."

"no promises," jen sighs, gathering her things. "i need to go get another pair of heels for our tall girl, so do you need anything else from me before i go?"

"a hug?" you think. "i couldn't have done this without you."

"she loves me!" jen says to san, and he smiles encouragingly.

"you two are amazing," san says. "i don't know how just two people put together such a stunning show."

"lots of work," you say.

"i cried a few times," jen adds.

"we both did," you conclude. "but it was fun, so it was worth it. right?"

"fun, sure!" jen agrees.

"get out of here," you push her playfully. "please rest. no boys."

"you too," jen wags her finger at you. then to san, "don't let her work too hard!"

"i'll try my best," he salutes her, and jen leaves with a laugh. he turns to you and asks, "what can i help with?"

"i need to buy more fabric," you think. "so if you want to grab food while i-"

"no, we'll both grab food, and then fabric," san decides. "or fabric then food. either way, i'm buying your lunch."

"but-"

"nope," he pulls you into his side and walks toward the door. "can't work hard on an empty stomach!"

-

you find yourself enjoying san's company more than you were expecting. he's easy to talk to, easy to laugh with, and he's so kind. he insisted on buying your lunch, even though that was going to be your payment to him for helping. he even tried to buy the extra fabric, claiming it's his fault you had to buy more anyway. you get back to your studio, smiles on both your faces, and get to work.

"so we need these in strips about an inch wide," you explain as you lay a few yards of fabric out on a work table. "tear them into strips, then we'll cut them in half, and then i can start shredding and adding them to the coat. sound good?"

"got it, captain," san nods. "how many do you need?"

"i don't know yet," you make a face. "you're a big guy."

"i'm just so strong," san rolls his eyes, flexing a little bit as he does.

"stop that," you laugh. "get to work. you want music on?"

"yeah, whatever you wanna listen to," san says as he straightens the fabric. you watch as he measures carefully, taking the fabric cutter over the material slowly. he holds up his first strip, looking to you for approval. "is this good?"

"perfect," you tell him. "now make like a thousand more."

"what are you gonna do while i work, hm?" san asks. "i've got a lot to do and you're just gonna watch me?"

"gotta make sure you're doing it right," you reply. "but i need to pack up some of these other pieces, they're getting shipped to the venue in the morning. my least favorite part of the job."

"how many shows have you done now?" san asks, and you fall into comfortable conversation with him while you work. you get most of the collection packed up before you know it, so you walk over to his table to check on his progress.

"not bad for a model," you say as you inspect the pieces. "you could make a mean designer's assistant."

"you in the market for one?" san asks, and you notice how close you are. he's a little taller than you, so all you'd have to do is stand on your toes and- "what are you thinking about?"

"what?" you whisper, taking a step back. san's hand catches your waist, holding you in place.

"what were you thinking about, just now?" he asks again. "you were staring."

"you're a model, i'd expect you'd be used to everyone staring at you," you whisper back.

"you're not everyone," he says softly. his eyes flit down to your lips, and before you can think you lean in and kiss him. it's quick, barely a touch, but you kissed him, and his hand on your waist tightens. when you look up at him, he's blushing. "what was that for?"

"um, for helping me with your outfit?" you reply.

"anything else you need my help with?" san smirks.

"san, i'm sorry, i shouldn't have done that," you whisper.

"yeah, you pulled back too quickly," he pouts.

"no," you laugh shyly. "no, um, i have a rule that i don't mess around with my models."

"got it," san sighs. "bummer, but i understand."

"i should start shredding these," you say, grabbing a pile of fabric. san's still holding onto you though, so you look at him expectantly. "you gonna let me go?"

"you don't mess with models, ever?" san asks. "or is it just models that are working for you?"

"um, the second one," you think. "but san-"

"then we'll talk about this again when the show is over," san says with finality. "i don't mind waiting."

"as long as you can keep things professional," you tell him.

"says the one who kissed me," san teases.

"whatever," you roll your eyes. "i'm gonna go work on the jacket."

"um, do you think these are enough strips for now?" san asks sheepishly. "i actually have to leave for an audition..."

"my god," you look at the time. "please, go. i'm sorry i kept you for so long."

"i'll come back when i'm done," san says like it's nothing. "i don't really want this show anyway, but my agent booked it, so i have to go."

"that's good to hear," you mumble. "because i don't like sharing."

"make sure you take a break while i'm gone," san points at you accusingly.

"go to your audition," you say as you walk to your office. "i'll be here when you get back."

-

san thinks about you the whole time he's gone. he breezes through the audition and gets an offer before he leaves, but after being in your show this designer seems scattered, unprofessional, and just not as good as you. his collection is fine, but it's nothing impressive. san can't wait to get back to your studio and see the progress on your coat, but when he knocks at the door there's no response. he waits, tries again, and still nothing. he tries the door and it opens easily, so san wanders in calling out your name. he doesn't see you in the work room, but there's a light on in your office.

"y/n?" he calls, stopping at the door when he sees you slumped over your desk, snoring softly. he looks at the mannequin next to you and lets out a gasp. it's more dramatic now with more fabric, and san thinks briefly it'll be even heavier to wear. he doesn't care though. right now, he's more concerned about getting you to someplace you can rest.

"you're back," you mumble, sitting up as you rub your eyes. "i fell asleep."

"i see that," san chuckles. he walks over to you and holds his arms out. "come on, we gotta get you home."

"what are you doing?" you ask, letting out a shriek when san picks you up. you hit his back weakly, but he carries you out of your office, through your studio, turning lights off as he goes.

"where's your bag?" san asks. you point and he carries you still, handing your things to you before doing a sweep of the studio. "ready to go?"

"where are we going?" you mumble into his shoulder. "i was sleeping just fine-"

"i'm taking you home," san says. "you need to sleep in a bed. not hunched over your desk."

"why are you being so nice to me?" you whisper as you nuzzle into him further. he doesn't reply, but you wouldn't hear it anyway. you drift off in his arms, only waking up when san slides you into the passenger seat of his car.

"you know how to get home from here, sleepyhead?" san asks as he ruffles your hair. you type your address into your phone, handing it to him before he closes the door carefully to rush to the driver's side. he laughs nervously when he sits down and finds you staring, so he asks, "what? too much?"

"i really want to kiss you again," you admit.

"but you can't," san coos. "remember your silly rules?"

"hmph, i was gonna say screw my rules, but then you made fun of me, so-"

"no, no i take it back!" san cries, but you turn and lay your head against the window. you smile to yourself as san begs you to turn back around, giggling as he tugs on your arm. you pretend to snore and san gives up, but his hand has moved from tugging your arm to just holding your hand. you stay like that the whole way home.

-

the runway show is tomorrow. you still aren't done with san's jacket. and you still aren't sure what to do since you kissed him. jen has ideas, though.

"climb him like a tree," she tells you for the nth time as she helps you unpack outfits at the venue. "he sooo wants you. and you sooo want him."

"doesn't matter who wants who," you mumble as you try to hold at least three pins by your teeth. you're securing a new zipper to your favorite dress. it wouldn't be a runway show without things falling apart last minute, and you could have punched a wall when you unpacked this dress to find the zipper literally holding on by a thread.

"the show is tomorrow, y/n," jen says sternly. "you can't hide behind your silly 'no models' rule for much longer."

"i won't," you assure her. she looks at you surprised, but she can't ask any follow ups because there are voices coming from the entrance.

"hello?" seonghwa calls out. you yell back that you're backstage, and when he appears he immediately finds jen to pull her into a hug.

"what are you doing here?" you ask him. "you don't have a fitting today."

"i brought him for moral support," san says from behind you. he's so close, and you didn't hear him come up, so it makes you jump. his hands fly to your waist, trying to soothe you, but the touch makes you jump too. "why are you so skittish?"

"i'm stressed," you respond, stepping away so you can find his coat. you look over your shoulder as you tell him, "the jacket still isn't done."

"what?" he whines. "do i need to tear more fabric?"

"no," you laugh. "just come here." he joins you further among the mess that is your collection, following closely behind you through the maze of clothing racks. you stop by his mannequin, turning to find him still incredibly close to you. "it just needs a clasp. as long as you didn't get broader over night."

"no promises," he smirks before pulling his shirt off. "can you help me get it on?"

"you've never needed my help before," you frown as you try avoid staring at his chest.

"yeah well, it's like ten pounds heavier now," san says. "and i'm just so weak..."

"bullshit," you laugh, helping him lift the coat anyway. you hold one side for him while he slips his arm in, then help him hold onto the other. "ok, stay here." you scurry off to get your sewing kit, and san finds jen's gaze through the clothes. she gives him a thumbs up and an exaggerated wink, and he stifles a laugh as you come back. you're holding more pins between your teeth, and san cries out. "what?"

"that can't be safe," he says as he reaches for one, but ends up pricking himself. "ouch."

"no touching," you mumble. "and hold the jacket like this." you guide his hands to hold the coat in place, and san watches intently as you work. you have to hand sew extra buttons on to support the new weight, so it takes a while. san tries to talk to you, but he's so worried about the pins in your mouth he can't focus.

"let me hold these," he grumbles, carefully pulling a pin from your lips. he takes the rest and cups them in his hand, accidentally pricking himself again. "ouch."

"that's what you get," you laugh. "you didn't have to hold them for me, i'm an expert at this by now."

"yeah, but if you had pins in your mouth, i couldn't do this," san says as he uses his free hand to cup your chin. he looks down at you with a smile before he kisses you. he kisses you and holds you against him, his lips so soft on yours. you sigh into the kiss, lost in the feeling of having him so close to you. you can feel his heart beating in his chest, and your hand that had been gripping the coat falls to his warm skin. you push him away, a little gasp on your lips when it hits you what's happened.

"what happened to being ok with waiting?" you ask him, and his head falls to your neck, leaving one kiss against your skin before he pulls back.

"i forgot," he whispers.

"well remember at least until i finish these buttons," you tell him.

"and then what?"

"then you gotta show me your walk," you say. the way you look up at him makes san want to kiss you again, but he does his best to refrain. you hold your hand out for the pins, and you put them back in your sewing kit as you say, "in a few minutes, your coat will finally be done."

"can't wait," san hums, his hands back to holding the jacket in place. "but i admit i'll miss having a reason for you to be so close to me."

"i'm sure you'll find more," you mumble, focusing on the last button. when it's sturdy enough to hold weight, you try securing the jacket together just enough for it to stay on san's shoulders. "hands off," you instruct, and san moves his hands from the coat to your shoulders. "hands to yourself."

"aw," he pouts. you start to walk away and he follows, but you tell him to stay put.

"stay there, then walk toward me," you direct him. "i wanna see how it moves now."

"you want me to go full model mode?" san asks. "can you handle it?"

"just show me," you groan, and the cocky grin on san's face should've warned you. it's like he changes into another person, his demeanor completely different. you realize now that the san you know is not model san, because the man before you is...intimidating? you almost back up as he walks toward you, his gait powerful and his stare petrifying. everything is so dramatic and the movement matches the coat perfectly. he still winks at you as he comes closer and turns, moving the coat so each layer of fabric, each shred explodes into an arc before you. san finishes his walk, turning over his shoulder with a shy smile on his face. he's back to the san you know as he asks, "how was that?"

"you're perfect," you stammer out, mimicking your words from the first time san walked for you. "for the collection. for this piece. everything. this is exactly what i imagined."

"good," his smile widens. "and the weight isn't too bad. it's distributed better now."

"good," you cough, trying to calm yourself down. watching that made everything real to you. this show is happening tomorrow. your nerves are hitting you now, and san can tell.

"are you ok?" he asks, rushing to your aide. he looks like he's going to pull you into a hug when you hear jen calling for you somewhere, and you disappear before san gets a chance.

-

the hours leading up to the show are a blur. in the hours leading up to the show, you are a blur. you don't stay still for more than a few minutes at a time. there's just so much for you to do, so many people to talk to, and so many people that need your help. a stylist asking your opinion. a model with loose threads down her back. a man with pleading eyes that you know is watching you from afar, ready to jump in if you collapse from nerves, or exhaustion, or both. you find jen at the accessories table, helping a model find bangles that won't fall off her arm as she walks. you grab onto jen, leaning in closely to rest your head against hers.

"i'm so tired," you whine. "and scared. and sweaty."

"ew, then get off me," jen pushes you away playfully. she finishes up with the model and sends her away before asking, "are you ok though? really?"

"why did i think dressing san without a shirt would be a good idea?" you whisper to her, watching him as he laughs with seonghwa about something. it's like he can feel your eyes on him, because he looks toward you and winks.

"because it is a good idea," jen says. "and he's not gonna be shirtless for long. you need to go help him into the coat, the show's about to start."

"shit," you curse, checking the time. "i have so much to do-"

"wait!" jen shouts, holding you in place. "something's missing."

"my will to go on?"

"no, you need lipstick," jen decides. she digs into the bag at her hip and finds the perfect pink shade for you. it matches your dress (that you designed) and it matches the warm pinks that you sprinkled into the collection. "there. you're ready."

"no i'm not," you mumble. "i didn't get to practice my welcome speech."

"go practice it with san!" jen pushes you in his direction. "five minutes!"

your palms get sweaty the closer you get to san. you're not sure if it's him, or the running countdown in your head reminding you that your show is about to happen. when you finally make it to san, he's alone, and he's smiling at you nervously.

"time for the coat?" he asks. you nod, and he follows you to the mannequin in the back. "how do you feel?"

"like i'm gonna pass out."

"i'll catch you," san jokes.

"arms up please," you squeak out. he helps you lift the coat silently, sliding into it like it's the most comfortable thing in the world. "and just let me secure it..."

"y/n," san whispers. "look at me." you don't listen, fussing over the buttons instead. you're smoothing out the warm pink fabric as san's hands cover yours, stilling them over his chest. "breathe for a second."

"i'm freaking out," you admit, looking up at him. "i have to go out there, and do a speech, and then watch my clothes, my life for the past year, all be judged by these strangers, and-"

"and you've done it before, and you survived," san smiles softly. "you're pretty great at this, in case you didn't know."

"but-"

"nope," he shakes his head. "it'll be great."

"it will," you say unsurely.

"say it like you mean it."

"the show will be great," you declare, and san squeezes your hands before he lets them go.

"and then after the show..." san trails off, and you feel your heart start to race. "i don't know, maybe i could take you out to celebrate?"

"san, i can't think about that right now," you shake your head. "i can't-"

the stage manager starts calling out models for the line up, and san looks away sadly. he nods like he's got his answer and starts to walk away, but you pull him back. you don't say anything, just cup his chin and leave a delicate kiss on his cheek.

"we'll talk after the show," you whisper. the stage manager calls for him again, and he looks at you one more time before he leaves. you let out a nervous breath, checking your reflection in the vanity next to you. it's now or never. you walk up to the side of the stage, and your heart drops to your ass. something is wrong.

"what's going on?" you hiss, walking up to find make up artists swarming san. "this can't be happening."

"you did this," one of the artists whisper shouts back, pointing to san's cheek. fuck. the lipstick. your lipstick left a bright pink mark on his skin. "we don't have time to fix it!"

"then don't," san shrugs. "i like it."

"y/n?" the stage manager looks at you. "we have one minute. are we fixing this?"

"uh, n-no," you stammer, and the crowd disperses, leaving you and san again. "here, i can wipe it-"

"don't," san swats your hands away. "now i'll have a piece of you with me while i walk."

"you're wearing my clothes, you already had a piece of me with you," you tell him.

"yeah, but this one's just for me," he smiles. "plus the lipstick matches my jacket."

"y/n, you're on!" jen grabs you, a gleeful look on her face. "oh, your lipstick is smudged."

"i don't know how you planned that, but i hate you for it," you say as you try to hide your smile.

"i just thought it would be a cute touch for photos later," she smiles as she fixes the smudge and reapplies more. "i didn't know you'd go around kissing him, marking your territory."

"that's not what i did," you blush.

"we don't have time to argue about this," she pushes you toward the stage entrance. "go be great!"

-

you're able to introduce the collection without tripping or fumbling over your words, so you'll call that a win. even bigger win: the collection is a hit. each piece got the reaction you wanted, but the show stopper was definitely san. the crowd hushed when he walked out, and they went wild when he got to the end of the runway with his flourish move he showed you the other night. as you watch the show backstage, you blush when you see the lipstick mark shining under the bright lights.

it ends up being a hit, almost as much as the coat itself. fashion bloggers lauded it as a perfect touch, basically sealing the collection with a kiss. they also speculated about your relationship with san, which certainly wasn't helped by the fact that he held your hand tightly in his as the collection walked the runway all together. san lifted your hand in triumph as you made it to the end of the stage, and he lets go, stepping back so you can have your moment. you soak it in as long as you can take, then scurry back to his side and grab his hand as you run backstage. he lifts you into a hug as soon as the curtain closes behind you, surrounded by cheers and models talking about how great the show was.

"put me down!" you squeal, swatting at san's chest so he'll let you go. "i need to talk to everybody."

"you can do it from up there," san says. you don't think you'll win this one, and he's right. it might be easier to address your models and your team from a few inches higher up.

"first of all, thank you," you say sincerely. "i wouldn't have a show without you all, and i had the best show because of you all. so thank you. if i could make you all vow to only ever work with me forever until the end of time, i would, but that's not ethical. so instead i'll say: you all have a spot in any show i do for the rest of my career. thank you. thankyouthankyouthankyou."

the crowd thins out as models get undressed, artists pack up their things, and the stage crew follows everyone around to remind them to clean up after themselves. miraculously, you and san are alone again.

"so," he hums. "i walked good?"

"you didn't trip," you nod.

"everyone loved it," san smiles.

"they loved you," you say, busying yourself with straightening the coat again.

"all i care about is what you thought."

"i've told you already," you start. "you're perfect."

"you say that, but earlier i think you were about to turn me down," san laughs nervously.

"what?" you're confused. "oh, i didn't finish. i was gonna say i can't go out with you tonight, but i'm free tomorrow."

"tomorrow? you'd make me wait so long?" san smirks.

"i have a business dinner to go to tonight," you explain. "so unless you wanna be my arm candy for the people who sponsored the show, then yes, you have to wait so long."

"i'm good at being arm candy," san says. "it's basically my job."

"fine," you shrug. "then put a shirt on and come with me?"

[i2sunric]

gynecologist sunghoon who checks up on you and makes you think that the way he touches you is part of his job and that he needs to what the problem is with you down there with touching you like that. reader is naive and nonstop apologizes for moaning and for it making her feel good. eventually she realizes because she can’t be that dumb lmao and they both just enjoy in the end

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐈𝐓 (p.sh)

a/n: let me just make this a drabble cause i don’t have the inspiration to make it long. hope you like it tho <3

“Just relax.” Sunghoon’s voice soothed when you confessed that it was your first time at the gynaecologist “It won’t hurt, I promise.”

You slowly nodded, feeling ever so small and exposed, sitting on the chair “Okay, doc.”

He gave you a sheepish smile and tugged the waistband of your panties “Let me take this off for you, mh?”

You helped him by raising your hips as he slid them off your legs and gently folded onto the table beside you “Now, put your legs here.” He told you as he pointed at the small stands on the chair.

You complied “Good girl.” He murmured and with a knob, he parted your legs until he could rest comfortably between them “Is it okay?”

You took a deep breath and nodded , “Tell me.” Sunghoon’s deep voice made you shiver “It’s okay. You can continue.”

Sunghoon nodded and started the visit, his gaze fell on your pussy and fuck— if it wasn’t the prettiest pussy he’s ever seen.

Seriously, you were so perfect, from the way you squirmed as the cold air of the room hit your sensitive skin to how you seemed so oblivious of it clenching whenever his fingers brushed against it.

“You’re healthy.” He reassured you, watching as your shoulders finally ease, tension slipping out of your body.

“Thank you—“ You were about to say but he cut you in “I need to make some more investigations, is it okay for you?”

You nodded and as you met his dark gaze, you remember you had to tell him “It’s okay.”

“Great.” Sunghoon murmured and slowly brushed his finger against your clit, making your hips jerk at the contact.

“Sorry!” You exclaimed, taken aback by the foreign feeling your body reacted “S’okay.” Sunghoon smirked.

His finger kept brushing against it and he watched as your eyes grew half lidded at the feeling. He slowly gathered your juices “I need to check if it gets wet alright.” He said a shitty excuse and brushed his finger against your sensitive bud once more.

You let out a soft hum, though you weren’t sure if it was for the strange feeling or as a reply.

“Does it feel good?” He questioned, quickening his pace just a little “I need to know.”

He also knew that if someone ever found out what he was doing, he would be fired and maybe sent to court, but how could he resist when you were literally so innocent and oblivious to his nasty acts?

You nodded, your grip on the armchair growing ever so strong when you for the itch to reach for his hair and pull his head close to your pussy “Good.”

“Bet it does.” He tsked and looked up at your beautiful face, the way your eyes struggled to keep open and your mouth fell agape. Cheeks already flushed.

“And this?” Sunghoon asked and slipped one finger inside you, cursing under his breath at how tight you were.

You let out a moan and widened your eyes. You weren’t sure why but you didn’t think that was an appropriate act from Sunghoon.

“D-doc?” You said and moaned out loud when his single digit brushed against a certain spot that had you seeing stars. “Found it.” Sunghoon murmured.

“Doc!” You exclaimed, frustrated with yourself for feeling such strong pleasure “I— I don’t think you should be doing this.”

Of course, you were naive but not stupid.

“No, I shouldn’t.” His finger brushed against your g-spot again “Do you want me to stop.”

You let out a shaky breath, debating your answers. His skilled finger moved inside of you in such a perfect way that you couldn’t even think straight, your mind clouding blissfully.

Nobody had ever touched you that way, and you had only faintly heard about how good sex was. But that was your prepping and if it felt like heaven already, you could only imagine what the afterwards felt like.

“No.” You answered, arching your back in the chair “Don’t stop.”

“Fuck.” Sunghoon cursed at the eagerness in your voice and added a second digit, struggling to even make it fit.

“You’re so tight.” He commented, having to spit on your pussy to make it wetter, so that it wouldn’t hurt to thrust his digits inside of you.

You moaned, head falling back. You felt so full, so good.

“D-doc.” You murmured “Call me Sunghoon.” He demanded and you complied “Sunghoon!”

He felt you clenching around him “Fuck, you’re almost pushing me out at how tight you are.” He bit his bottom lip, feeling his pants growing restrained by the minutes ticking.

“Mh.” You hummed in pleasure, your back arching from the chair “Sunghoon..”

“Yes, Y/N?” He asked and the way his name rolled out of his tongue, so sinful, it made you squeeze your eyes shut.

“Feels funny.” You frowned and Sunghoon chuckled, knowing very well what you meant “Does it, now?”

His fingers rubbed against your spongy walls and thrusted in and out, trying to bring you closer to the edge.

You cried out as you felt a knot tighten in your stomach “Don’t stop.” You panted as pleasure started overtaking your senses.

“I won’t stop.” He reassured “Just let it go, baby.” Your eyes rolled back at his pace quickening, the squelching sounds of your wet pussy filling the whole room.

Fortunately, you were the last patient of the day and no one was most likely to be in the waiting room.

“Cum for me.” At his words your whole body squirmed in the sit, moaning out. Your orgasm washed you in a such a delicious way, little trembles rocked through you.

Sunghoon rode you out of your orgasm, his fingers still slowly moving inside of you until you calmed down and he slipped them out, making you moan at the loss.

He looked at his cum-coated digits and almost came on spot himself. He put them in his mouth and sucked them clean, humming at your sweet feeling.

“You even taste so good, don’t you?” He chuckled and got up, handing you back your panties.

“I told you it wouldn’t hurt.” You nodded, a little sweaty from the act.

Thank you, doc.” You blushed “For everything.”

Sunghoon just smirked at you “I’m looking forward our next meeting, Y/N.”

[didalexiabreakupwitholgayet]

Who is Virginia Torrecilla I know Alexis wore her number but I’m not sure who she is

only a spanish legend in her own right, a talented footballer whose career was cut too short, and one of the most important people in alexia's life! they have known each other and grown up together for many, many years.

so vir signed for barça back in 2012 and ended up living with alexia's family when she moved to barcelona, so that's how they got close, and she's basically another sister to alexia.

vir had a long career with the selection having gone to two world cups and two eurocopas for spain, and so she was teammates with alexia for both club and country. vir went on to play for montpellier in france, and then atletí and villarreal in spain.

unfortunately, her career was cut short due a series of health-related events. in may 2020, she had to get surgery for a brain tumour but ultimately beat the cancer and returned to playing a few years later in january 2022. that's why alexia took vir's shirt number (14) when she played for spain for a number of years, to honour her close friend.

and if things could not get worse, she was in a car accident with her mother (who had come to madrid to care for her) in june 2021, and her mother was paralysed as a result.

she announced her retirement in january 2024, after making a comeback to professional football post-recovery. so it has been a rough few years for vir, but she's gone on to write a memoir and alexia wrote the prologue for it. now does punditry from time to time, like we saw recently during the champions final in bilbao. her partner is ainhoa moraza who is a footballer for atletí.

[ladylovesloki]

The Fated Apple: Part Seven

Pairings: Loki X Reader

Warnings: Language, fluff ☺️☺️

Summary: Back on Asgard. Loki wakes.

A/N: You guys inspired me so much I banged out this part and half of part 8 already. Thank you all so much for your enthusiasm and your kind words. I never thought I was much of a writer but you guys make me think otherwise. Thank you 💚

Enjoy💚

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Loki tries to open his eyes but it is a struggle.

It felt like he was under water, all of the sounds around him are muffled and seem miles away.

“Loki come on..I know you can do it.”

Your voice cuts through all of the muddled sound and he follows it like a guiding light. Finally he is able to open one eye and sees you staring down at him.

“There you are.”, you smile gently.

“Y/n..”, Loki struggles to speak but starts coughing, his lungs still feel the heat from Muspelheim.

You call out for Eir and she hurries over with one of her healers who is holding a goblet of water. They help Loki sit up and you take the goblet from the healer to help him drink yourself.

He’s finally able to open both eyes and he can’t seem to take them off of you.

“How do you feel?”, you ask him.

“Like I was just tortured by a fire demon…how am I here?”

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

He looks up and closes his eyes, “I remember Alarian taunting me..being chained to a slab..the heat..and then…nothing.”

You nod tears filling your eyes, “I’m so sorry. We got there as fast as we could..we were almost too late.”

“We? What do you mean…we?”

“Well…Surtr wanted something that we could not give him without putting everything at risk..so we came up with a plan to save you without giving him the sword.”

“You’re still not explaining the we…”

“We..well..I decided that I wanted to be there to bring you back..”

“But..the antidote..when we left the antidote Eir had was ineffective.”

“It was..so…I…had Idunn bring her apple to Eir and..”

Loki looks at you with heartbreak in his eyes, “no…y/n…you should not have done that for me.”

“What else was I supposed to do?! He was going to kill you and everyone else if we gave in and gave him that sword. So Thor and I came up with a plan to trick Surtr. Frigga created a replica of the sword for us to give to Surtr and we brought the real one with us so that he could feel the swords power..as soon as we handed it over he…”, the tears you were holding back finally fall down your face.

Loki weakly reaches a shaky hand up to wipe them away.

You put your hand over the one he has placed on your cheek, “as soon as he had the sword he swung for you. The sword disintegrated in his hand and Thor killed him with the true one.”

Loki’s eyes widen, “Surtr is dead? Gods..”

You nod, “yea..I thought you were dead.”, more tears fall and land on Loki’s hand that is still on your cheek.

“I can’t believe Thor let you put yourself in danger. You should not have been there.”

“And you shouldn’t have pretended to be a whole other person to get to know me but here we are.”

Loki looks down and removes his hand from your face, “yes. I…I am so sorry y/n. Truly. I did not mean to deceive you..”

“Then why? Why didn’t you just come to me as yourself?”

“Because I saw how comfortable you were speaking with Ana…I didn’t believe you would be so at ease with me if I were in my true form…I wasn’t exactly kind to you before Idunn’s ritual.”

“I wasn’t exactly nice to you either Loki. I wanted to get to know you not Ana..”

“I am so sorry..If I could take it back I would. I would have revealed my true self that first day I was just too…weak. Watching you learn, seeing your smile..I did not believe I would see that side of you if I was myself. But when I took you to see Yddrasil and saw the wonder and openness on your face I knew I had to tell you the truth.”

“Oh you mean it had nothing to do with your mother telling you that you had to tell me the truth?”

Loki looks down again with a shy smile, “she did have some sway in my decision as well but truly I wanted to tell you the moment you saw me as Ana. As I told your sister I…”

“I know..she told me..just..don’t lie to me like that again..ok?”

He nods, “I promise you..but you need to also promise me to never put yourself in such danger again. When I saw you collapse that day I almost went mad.”

“Yea so much so you went to a realm that is literally the least hospitable to your kind.”

“Yes well…”, he takes your hand in his. “I have grown quite fond of you..”

You smile and squeeze his hand, “yea I guess I’m a little fond of you too. I look forward to spending time with you when you’re actually you.”

“It was me..every word I said to you..everything we did together..I promise you none of that was a lie..”

You see Loki’s eyes start to droop, “I believe you. You need to rest. You still have a lot of recuperating to do.”

Loki nods, “yes, breathing is a bit of a task at the moment.”

As if he summoned her, Eir returns with a vial, “here my Prince drink this. It will help with that.”

Loki goes to take the vial but you see how much his hand is shaking so you reach out and take it from Eir. Loki looks to you and smiles, you place a hand on the back of his head and he tilts back slightly so you can help him drink the elixir.

He closes his eyes, enjoying the relief. When he opens them he looks at you and smiles, “thank you.”

You smile back, “you’re welcome. Get some sleep.”

Loki lays back down and closes his eyes, enjoying the feeling of your hand on his. “Will you be here when I wake?”

You nod. Comforted by your answer Loki closes his eyes again and goes to sleep.

****************************************************

A few days pass and Loki is finally allowed to leave the healers wing. He still has some healing to do but Eir said it would be ok for him to do so in the comfort of his own chambers. Which made things a little…awkward for you. It was one thing to be at his bedside in the healers wing but in his rooms? You weren’t sure how to navigate your relationship now since you took Idunn’s apple tonic.

Loki saw your hesitation to stay in his rooms and offered to go back to the healers wing if it meant you would feel more comfortable to be with him, but you couldn’t let him do that. He deserved to be comfortable in his own bed, surrounded by the things that comforted him and if one of those things is you then you would remain by his side.

It was getting late and Loki was starting to fall asleep so you stood from your chair next to his bed to leave, but he grabs your hand before you can move any further.

“Where are you going?”, he asks tiredly.

“Back to my rooms..you need to rest.”

“Stay. Please.”

You think about it for a moment and the sad, tired look in his eyes breaks you. “Ok, I’ll have the maids help me move the settee in here, I can sleep on that.”

“Nonsense. The bed is large enough for both of us. I promise I don’t even have the energy to do anything untoward.”

You take a moment to think about what you want to do but Loki senses your indecisiveness, “forgive me. It was foolish of me to ask. You deserve rest after everything you have been through, I should not have asked this of you.”

You shake your head, “no..it’s ok..I’ll stay.”

“You are certain?”, he asks with hope in his tired eyes.

You nod, “I’m just going to go change and get ready for bed in my rooms. I’ll be right back.”

Loki smiles and nods, you give his hand a final squeeze and leave his room. As soon as you get to your chambers you see Jane waiting for you inside.

“Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.”

You roll your eyes, “ha ha. I’m just here to change for bed and then I’m going back to Loki.”

“Oh? Having a sleep over?”

“He asked me to stay…”, you admit with a smile.

“Uh huh..”

“What?!”

“Nothing..I’m just…happy for you.”

“You’re reading too much into it Jane, he just doesn’t want to be alone right now.”

“Oh please. The man is falling in love with you…and I think you’re falling in love with him too.”

“That’s a leap Jane.”

“Oh come on y/n. You haven’t left his side in days, you’ve been helping him heal, eat and now you’re going to spend the night with him?”

“He just wants some comfort and familiarity..”

“He wants the woman who he is going to spend eternity with to be by his side.”

You look down at the nightgown you picked out from your closet, “it’s all so daunting. How am I supposed to be that for him? How can I measure up to being all of that.”

Jane walks over, takes your nightgown and places it on your bed. She then takes your hands in hers, “You don’t need to do anything but be you y/n. You are what he needs.”

“I should go..he’s probably going to fall asleep thinking I changed my mind.”, you pick up your nightgown and go to your bathing chambers to change and freshen up for bed.

Jane stops you again, “I’m leaving in the morning.”

“What? Why?”

“I have to get back to work y/n. I only stayed this long because of everything that was happening but with Thor and I being over… My work is waiting for me. Selvig is waiting for me. I have to go.”

You bring your sister in for a tight hug, “I understand. I’m going to miss you.”

“I’ll be back, Heimdall promised to show me a few things to help me with my research. I’m hoping I can bring Selvig and Darcy with me next time.”

You smile, “Darcy will shit herself when she gets here.”

“I know I’m gonna have to keep her on a leash.”

You laugh and pull her back into another hug, “Im so sorry Jane. I know that you really loved Thor. I feel like I stole something from you.”

Jane pulls away, “no. I never want you to feel that way. Yes, I love Thor but it wasn’t meant to be. You and Loki are. Don’t let your guilt or whatever you’re feeling stop you from feeling whatever you are starting to feel for Loki. I’m happy for you. And who knows? Maybe I’ll find me another Asgardian hunk and Idunn will give me a pity apple.”

You hug one last time before Jane says goodnight with a promise to see you before she goes back to Earth. You finally change into your night clothes and finish getting ready for bed before you make your way back to Loki’s room. When you get there he is already asleep. You can see that he must be having a bad dream of some sort because his brow is furrowed and his skin is flushed. You walk over to the bed and kneel down on it, gently placing your hand on his forehead.

Loki’s eyes shoot open and he grabs your wrist, “no! No more! Please!”

“Loki..Loki..shh..it’s me..it’s y/n.”

He loosens his grip on your wrist, “y/n? What?…Where?”. He starts looking around frantically, trying to figure out where he is.

“You’re on Asgard. You’re in your chambers. You’re safe.”, you repeat those words over and over until you see he is starting to calm and come back to reality.

“Y/n..Gods..I’m sorry..I must’ve been dreaming..”

You card your fingers through his hair which is soaked with his sweat, you stand from the bed but Loki tightens his grip once more. “I’ll be right back.”

You stand from the bed and go to his bathing chambers to get a wet washcloth. You bring it back to his bed and once again kneel next to him, placing the cool wet cloth on his forehead.

“Mmm..”, he sighs in relief.

“Better?”, you ask.

He nods and smiles, “you came back.”

“Of course. I told you I would didn’t I?”

“You certainly did. I’m sorry, sleep must’ve taken over me not long after you left.”

“Do not apologize, you need your rest. I’m sorry I took so long, Jane was waiting for me in my room when I got there. She’s leaving tomorrow.”

He reaches up and removes the cloth from his forehead, “oh..will you be returning to Earth with her then?”

“Do you want me to?”

Loki looks deeply into your eyes, “I want you to be happy and if that means you returning to your home world I would understand. But no..to answer your question. I do not want you to go. I want to continue to get to know you. To learn what the Norn’s have planned for us. Together.”

You take his hand in yours, “I want that too Loki. I’m not going anywhere.”

He breathes out a sigh of relief, “good.”

You can see he is fighting sleep, “come on, let’s get to sleep. I have to be up to say goodbye to Jane in the morning.”

Loki nods and you lay down next to him, his hand still in yours.

****************************************************

When you wake up you’re not in the same position you were when you fell asleep. Instead of laying next to Loki, you are now laying on his chest. His arm wrapped around you and his nose is buried in your hair. You move slightly to look up to his face and your movement wakes him as well.

He gives you a shy smile, “good morning darling.”

You blush, “morning..”

You feel his fingers lightly grazing your arm, he’s moving them up and down causing goosebumps to break out all over your skin.

“I should get up. Jane will be leaving soon.”

“Yes..we should get up and ready for the day.”

Neither of you move, instead you both stay wrapped in each others arms and continue staring into each others eyes.

You can’t take the suspense anymore and decide to make the first move, you give him a small peck on the corner of his mouth and quickly remove yourself from his arms. You stand up out of bed and start speed walking to his bath chamber, as soon as you close the door you place your hand over your chest to calm your beating heart.

You take a moment to freshen up and when you leave the bathroom Loki is already out of bed waiting for you.

“Hi.”, you say shyly, blushing like an idiot.

“Hi.”, he repeats back with a small smile.

He walks over to you, standing so close you have to look up to see his face. He starts to lean down, his eyes glued to your lips…

“Brother!!!”, Thor swings the door open interrupting whatever Loki was planning on doing.

The both of you separate so quickly you smack your head against the door behind you.

“Thor! You absolute oaf.”, he walks back over to you and places his hand on the back of your head soothing your slight discomfort from the impact.

“My apologies, I did not know you were here my lady.”, Thor apologizes with a goofy smile on his face.

You place your hand on Loki’s chest, silently telling him you were ok. “It’s ok Thor, I was just leaving to find Jane.”

You take two steps away from Loki but then you feel him tug you back to him, “I shall see you soon yes?”

You smile and nod at him, he leans down and gives you a quick kiss on the cheek and you feel his magic all over your body. You look down and see that he has changed your nightgown into a beautiful gown and you feel completely refreshed.

You smile, “thank you.”

He nods, “go find your sister, I shall see you soon.”

You leave the brothers to go find Jane.

Loki walks over to Thor and smacks him on the back of the head, “I’m going to dump you on the shittiest realm I can find and leave you there.”

Thor rubs the back of his head and laughs, “oh please, like you won’t have another opportunity to woo your fated love.”

Loki rolls his eyes, “what did you want anyway?”

“Mother wishes to see us.”

“Very well, after you.”, Loki follows his brother out of the room.

****************************************************

You go straight to Jane’s rooms, your heart still beating out of your chest, when you get there you knock on her door.

“Come in!”, you hear her say from the other side of the door.

You walk in, “hey. You about ready to go?”. You see her bags all packed already.

She nods, “as ready as I can be. What should I tell your job when I get back?”

“Shit. I forgot about that..”

Jane laughs, “it’s ok, I’ll just tell them you’re a princess now and they can’t afford you anymore.”

“Ha! That’ll work…I’m gonna miss you.”

“Me too. But if you need me I’m only a call from Heimdall away.”

“Ditto.”

“I think Frigga wanted to have breakfast with us first before I go. The maids said they’ll bring my bags to the Bifrost when we’re done.”

You nod, take Jane’s hand in yours and make your way to the dining hall. When you get there it is full of people. Like full full. And when you start walking down the aisle to get to the royal table everyone stands and starts to clap.

You look up to the table with a confused look on your face and see Thor, Frigga and Odin smiling and clapping as well. Loki is making his way down the steps to you and Jane with a smile on his face. He holds his hand out to you and you give it without hesitation. Once he has your hand in his he kisses the back it and then holds both of his arms out. One for you and one for Jane. He walks you both up the steps and holds out your chair for you to sit, as soon as you do Odin holds his hands out to the boisterous crowd.

“Asgard. These last few days have been a trying one. First the Lady y/n was poisoned by one of my own councilmen, his fate will be decided on a later date. And then..my son Loki, went to a realm of fire in order to save her and return the coward who ran to it but was captured and tortured. In exchange for Loki, an antidote and the traitor, Surtr wanted a weapon that Asgard had taken from his realm centuries ago. A weapon that would bring nothing but death and destruction to all of Asgard and the rest of the nine. But because of the bravery of Prince Thor, our honored guard and Lady Y/n, we were able to rescue Prince Loki and reclaim the traitor so he can face proper judgment without having to give up such a dangerous weapon. Lady y/n, I truly believe that without you my son would not be here today. Without you and your selfless decision to consume Idunn’s apple, you saved not only Loki but the rest of the nine. We are indebted to you.”

You’re so taken aback by the praise from Odin that you don’t notice you have been squeezing Loki’s hand throughout the entire speech. And when the entire hall started to clap again you couldn’t fight the blush spreading across your face. Loki sees it and leans over to give you a kiss on your cheek which makes the crowd grow louder. You look over to Loki and the smile on his face makes you blush even more which gets a small laugh out of him.

Odin holds out his hands to quiet everyone again, “today we say farewell to Lady Jane in hopes she will return so we can continue our new growing relationship with Midgard.”

With that, Odin takes his seat and everyone else follows suit and starts to eat their meals. You look over to Loki who has not taken his eyes off of you. “After we take your sister to the Bifrost, I would very much like to continue what we started this morning.”

You smile, “we’ll see how you’re feeling. You already look like you can use another nap.”

“I beg your pardon!..”, he jokes with you, knowing damn well how exhausted he was.

You laugh and start filling his plate, he looks to you in shock and you see everyone else looking at you with smiles on their faces. “What? What did I do?”

Loki huffs a small laugh, “nothing darling, it is a great sign of affection when one fills another’s plate here.”

You blush. “Oh..I..didn’t..umm”

He smiles kindly and gives you another kiss on your cheek, “hush.” He then starts to fill your plate, the smile never leaving his face.

****************************************************

The breakfast goes by so quickly, next thing you know you are at the Heimdall’s observatory. You hug Jane so tightly and she hugs you back just as tight. You’re both crying, but Jane is the one to wipe them away from your face, “you act like we’re never going to see each other again.”

“I’m going to miss you so much.”, you sniffle and bring her back into a hug.

She rubs your back, “I’m gonna miss you too. I’ll be back before you know it. Hey, you should want me to take my time, Darcy is going to be with me when I’m here to visit again.”

You laugh, “take care of yourself.”

“You too. Keep your prince out of trouble.”

“Hey!”, Loki protests from the side.

Thor steps up and you remove yourself from Jane, “are you ready?”, he asks her.

She nods, “yup.” She looks back to you, “I’ll see you soon. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Thor takes Jane’s bags along with her hand and they walk through the Bifrost. As soon as Jane is gone you start to really cry but Loki is there as soon as your knees start to buckle.

“Shh. It will be alright…shh.”, he rubs his hand on the back of your head soothingly.

Your tears subside and your look up to his face, “I think I want to lay down for a bit.”

He nods, “I shall escort you to your rooms.”

You shake your head, “no, I want to be with you…please?”

He smiles, “of course.” He creates a portal to his rooms and you can tell that using his magic took him from slightly tired to exhausted.

You take his hand, “come on, lets lay down for a bit.”

He follows you to the bed and to his surprise, you immediately lay your head on his chest. He smiles and wraps his arms around you and presses a light kiss on your forehead. “It’s going to be alright sweet one.”

“I know. I’m just going to miss her, I’ve never been this far away from my sister before.”

“Don’t think of it as her being far away from you. Look forward to all of the wonderful things you will get to tell her when she returns.”

You look up to his face, “oh yeah? And what wonderful things will I be telling her?”

“I don’t know…your adventures here…the people you meet…how much you have captivated me.”

“Have I?”

“Oh yes. Mind. Body. Soul. You have entranced me.”

You look into his eyes to see if you can detect any lie but you see none, only the truth in his words. So you do the only thing you can think of in that moment. You lift your face up and kiss him. It’s quick and soft but it was like something snapped into place and the next thing you know Loki has moved you so you are on your back and he is kissing you deeply on top of you.

It was a kiss you read about it books, it was full of love, lust, happiness. It was everything and you didn’t want it to end.

When Loki pulls away from you to look at your face you look back at him with a wide smile.

“You’re exhausted.”, you giggle.

He releases a huff, “indeed I am but I want to kiss you more than I want rest.”

You reach up, run your fingers through his hair and bring him back down to you for another sweet kiss. “Let’s gets some sleep and then I promise you can kiss me as much as you want when we wake up.”

He smiles down at you and gives you a quick peck on the lips before he rolls over to his back taking you with him. He places your head back on his chest and just like you did to him, he starts to massage his fingers through your hair. The sensation sending you into a deep sleep.

To be continued….

Tag List:

@mintfrostflower @lotrefcp @mostlymarvelgirl @tekutiger @missingdadneto @rcailleachcola @fire-in-her-veinz @glitterylokislut @yelkmelk @talesofadragon @multifandom-world8 @firedrakegirl @enchanteddreameruniverse @skittslackoffilter @babygirl-panda19 @daydream-believer19 @planets-and-stars @star-maker-rain-dancer

[sidekick-hero]

It's finally here, my entry for the @steddiesummerexchange. This is a gift for my dear friend @starryeyedjanai - I was so delighted when I found out you were my giftee 💜💜💜 Your prompt 'Steve can't get his inheritance until he marries someone' really tested me and took me out of my writing comfort zone. I hope you like it and that I did your prompt justice! Special shout out to the best beta in the whole world, @acasualcrossfade 💜🙏

Pairings: Steve/Eddie, Robin/Chrissy Characters: Steve, Eddie, Robin, Chrissy, Max, Dustin, Wayne Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fake Marriage, Platonic Stobin, Platonic Hellcheer, idiot4idiot, Friends to Husbands to Lovers, Humor and Fluff and a smudge Angst

Summary:

When Steve's grandmother dies, he finds out that he can only get his inheritance - half a million dollars - if he marries someone. It's her way of forcing Steve to live a heterosexual life. Sucks for her that gay marriage has been legalized since she wrote her will. Sucks for Steve that he doesn't have a man or woman in his life to marry. Cue Eddie Munson, roommate and best friend of Robin's girlfriend Chrissy and the guy Steve has had a crush on for years. What could possibly go wrong?

Read on AO3 - the fic is finished and has 4 chapters, the last one will drop June 24

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Chapter 1 (5.6k) under the cut

"Rob! Robbie!" Steve yells as he walks into their two-bedroom apartment, kicking the door shut behind him. "Robin Juniper Buckley, where are you?"

He hears the telltale clatter of dishes and sure enough, he finds his roommate and best friend in their tiny kitchen washing the dishes. It's his turn to do them, but his schedule has been hell this week. He's been spending so much time at the firehouse cooking for a crew of five to twelve perpetually hungry firemen and women that the thought of cleaning up their kitchen at home has made him want to cry.

"I'm here doing the dishes, because if I didn't, we could have proven Darwin's theories right here in our kitchen." Despite the scolding words, she doesn't look particularly angry at him, and he figures he'll be forgiven in no time. She knows he's been working himself into the ground lately, pulling double shifts whenever his boss will let him. Living in Chicago is expensive enough, but Steve also has to think about Max's education. There's no way his little sister can't live up to her full potential just because their parents are assholes who stopped caring about their children the second they turned out not to be the perfect son and daughter Richard and Emily Harrington wanted them to be.

He walks up to her and hugs her sideways, resting his head on her shoulder for a moment as he mumbles, "'m sorry, Robs. I'll make it up to you."

She sighs, and he knows he's already forgiven. "I know you will. It's okay. Not like I forgot to do something once or twice."

He leans back to look at her for full effect, waggling his eyebrows. "Oh, like when you started dating Chrissy and were so busy having sex that you barely left your room or her apartment?"

Robin swats at him with the towel slung over her shoulder, but there's a smile on her face at the memory.

"Okay, now that we've established that you're jealous that I have an incredibly sexy and wonderful girlfriend," Robin says, ignoring his indignant Oi!, "do you want to tell me why you stormed in here yelling out my full name, which I've clearly forbidden you to use except in emergencies?"

Her question brings back the excitement that propelled him from the grocery store to her apartment in record time, and reminds him of the news he's been dying to share with her in person, rather than by phone or text message. He needs to see her reaction firsthand.

Taking hold of Robin's shoulders, he locks eyes with her azure gaze, unable to contain the grin that splits his face in two. "She’s gone!"

Robin blinks in confusion, prompting him to clarify. "Grandma Harrington, she's kicked the bucket, bit the dust, you name it."

A puzzled expression lingers on Robin's face momentarily before realization dawns. "No way! She... really?"

Unable to contain his excitement, Steve gives her a gentle shake. "Yes, really. Grandma Harrington finally called it quits."

They look at each other, their grins widening until they both look like madmen. Steve is aware that all of this is probably a highly inappropriate way to react to the death of a human being, but Eleanor Harrington had been the worst human being Steve or Robin had ever had the displeasure of meeting in their lives.

She had visited her son and daughter-in-law infrequently over the years, never giving them much warning when she was coming over and occupying one of their guest rooms for the unforeseeable future. More than once, Steve had come home to find her sitting at the kitchen table or on the sofa, staring at him with her judgmental gaze, disappointed in him before he even crossed the threshold. Any friend who had the misfortune to accompany him was ordered to sit with her and be interrogated, always found wanting as her grandson's companion. Everyone was beneath a Harrington, even Tommy, even though his father was a lawyer. ‘Too many freckles and that awful grin’ was one reason, ‘I don't like the way he looks at you, Steven, too greedy’ was another.

Robin, who had become a permanent fixture in Steve’s life after becoming his project partner in one of their shared classes his junior year, hadn’t fared any better. To this day, Steve has no idea how Grandma Harrington found out that Robin was queer, because at that point Robin hadn't even been out to her parents, only Steve. But when she did, she had spit at Robin. Steve had lost it then, too angry, too hurt to think rationally. He had thrown caution to the wind and come out to her, too, even though the thought of liking boys was still new to him, something he was still trying on to see how it would fit.

He doesn't even know what he expected to get out of it. Certainly not acceptance or even approval, no matter how much a part of him still craved that from his family. The only thing he got was her calling them both horrible names and saying such cruel things that Steve had to hold Robin and wipe away her tears afterwards.

That episode alone was reason enough for Steve to hate the old woman. Never mind that she had raised his father to be a bigoted, heartless man who had never learned what it meant to truly love anyone, not even his own son or daughter.

When their faces begin to ache from smiling, Robin shrugs casually, as though dismissing the significance of the moment. But Steve knows better. He knows the weight of hurt and resentment they both carry because of that woman.

"Rest in peace, I suppose," Robin remarks with an air of detachment, and Steve can only offer a noncommittal hum in response, realizing that any words he might speak would only add to the inappropriate nature of their conversation.

"Alright, so what does this mean for you, Steve?" Robin asks, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. "Is this going to change how you deal with your family?" She pauses briefly before adding, "And what about your inheritance?"

Steve offers a slight shrug, his expression turning pensive. "I'm not entirely sure yet, Robs," he begins, his tone serious despite the lingering excitement from their earlier celebration. "I mean, I guess it means I don't have to deal with her anymore, which is definitely a relief. But as for the rest of the family, I don't know. They've never been particularly warm or welcoming to me, you know that. I mean, you’ve been there when they wanted to send me to a psychiatrist to help me get over being queer. I doubt they've changed much since then."

Robin nods in understanding, recalling the numerous tales Steve had shared about his family's cold demeanor and their refusal to accept him for who he is. She reaches out, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"I mean, you know she was loaded. So yeah, there is an inheritance, but -" Steve continues, his gaze distant as he contemplates the implications. "There's a condition in Grandma Harrington's will. I can only inherit if I marry someone.”

Robin's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Marry? Seriously? That seems archaic, unfair, and downright manipulative."

Steve lets out a wry chuckle. "Tell me about it. Grandma always did enjoy her control games. It's probably her way of trying to mold me into the perfect, straight grandson."

"You've got to be kidding me! Seriously? You... what, have to marry some woman so you can be the perfectly acceptable heterosexual son and grandson your family always wanted? Fuck off!" Despite the heavy topic, Steve can't help but smile at Robin's outrage on his behalf. He could always count on her. After all, she was there to pick up the pieces when his parents told him in no uncertain terms to either learn to be straight or leave.

He left and lived with the Buckleys until Robin graduated and they moved to Chicago together. It was the best decision he could have made, even if it still hurts some days.

For a moment, they both fall silent, each lost in their thoughts. Then Robin squeezes his hand again. "We'll figure it out, Steve. We always do. And hey, maybe this is the perfect opportunity to really stick it to them."

"What do you mean?"

A devilish grin spreads across Robin's face. "Tell me, does her will say that you have to marry someone, or that you have to marry a woman to get your inheritance?"

Oh.

Oh.

Steve looks at Robin, his eyes wide with sudden understanding. “You’re a genius, Buckley,” he says, grinning. “I think it’s time for us to pay my attorney a visit.”

Turns out Robin is right. It seems that Grandma Harrington wrote her will at a time when gay marriage was still illegal in most states, and never thought to change it after the courts made it legal in Indiana and Illinois in 2014.

Steve's lawyer, who he honestly couldn't afford if it wasn't for the fact that she was an old family friend, agreed to help him pro bono just to give his bigoted parents the middle finger, as her sister was a lesbian. She said that the requirements of the will would be met if Steve married a woman as well as a man. As long as it was a legally recognized marriage, he would get close to half a million dollars. Enough to pay for Max's education, the rest of Robin's student loans, and maybe even a small house here in Chicago for him and Max once she was done with college and wanted to live with him until she was ready to be on her own.

The only problem was that Steve didn't have anyone to marry, woman or man.

His last serious relationship had been in high school, for crying out loud. Not for lack of trying. Steve loved love, but love apparently didn't love Steve back. Robin insists that's because he's sabotaging himself. She thinks deep down he's afraid of getting hurt again, so he only falls for people who a) he can't have or b) are a terrible match outside the bedroom.

She might have a point, he thinks in his more introspective moments. He has no shortage of options, and he always finds someone to hook up with, but he rarely makes it past the second date.

"Maybe you could hire someone?" Robin suggests, sipping her Dirty Shirley. After seeing John for some legal advice, they had gone straight to their favorite bar to hold a strategic summit over drinks.

So far, they have only made it to the drinking part.

Sighing deeply, Steve considers the idea for a second before shaking his head vehemently. "No way. I'm not paying some stranger to marry me. It's probably illegal anyway, and it sounds a lot like prostitution."

He knows it's the wrong thing to say when Robin raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him. "And what, Steven, is wrong with prostitution?"

"Nothing. Nothing’s wrong with it. A job like any other job,” he hastily assures her.

His answer seems to satisfy her and he knows she's right. It's just that sometimes the things he's been raised to believe, thanks to his extremely conservative parents, are hard to leave behind. They have a tendency to bubble back to the surface when he least expects it.

"That's what I thought. But I get it, it feels wrong to pay someone to marry you."

"Exactly. And I mean, it's about trust. Who guarantees that they won't double-cross me somehow and run off with all the money? I can't risk that."

He looks over at his best friend, his platonic soul mate, whom he trusts with his life and, more importantly, his little sister's life. Right now, he thinks, there’s only one person he could imagine being married to.

"How about we get married?"

He regrets it as soon as he asks.

Not because he thinks Robin wouldn’t do it, but because of the two of them, she is the one in a loving, stable relationship that could very well end in marriage one day. It's unfair of him to put her in a situation where she feels like she has to choose between Steve and Chrissy.

Worst of all, he knows she still wants to say yes to him. He can see it in the soft, sad way she looks at him. They both know they'll spend the rest of their lives together anyway. The simple truth of both their lives is that they would do anything for each other, walk through fire, face any horror the world could throw at them, just to see each other happy. And it's not like they couldn't get a divorce later, so Robin could still marry Chrissy, sure. But it would take something from her.

"Steve, I -"

"No, wait, don't answer that. It was a stupid idea, I shouldn't -"

"It's not stupid, it's just -"

As they talk over each other, their voices clash until they both instinctively reach over, silencing each other with a hand over their mouths at the same time. Their wide-eyed surprise quickly gives way to laughter as they realize the absurdity of the situation.

Steve is the first to recover from their fit of laughter, quickly sobering up to reassure Robin in a mild voice. "Seriously, Robs, I shouldn't have asked you to do this because it puts you in a shitty position. I know how much you love Chrissy and it wouldn't be fair to either of you. Especially when the two of you could finally get legally married. I don't want to take that away from you and make you agree to a fake heterosexual marriage like it was the 80's."

She looks at him with her big blue eyes, impossibly soft, and takes his hand in hers.

"Steve," she begins, her voice as gentle as her gaze, "thank you. For getting it, I mean. It wouldn't be all fake, though. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But you're right, I'm not in love with you and you're not in love with me. And we both deserve to marry someone we feel that way about. In a perfect world, we would. I mean, I don't even know if Chrissy would ever want to marry me, but," Robin stops here, her eyes widening in sudden realization. "Oh my God, Steve!" Robin cries out in excitement and wonder, her reaction clearly colored by the strong cocktails their favorite bar always provided, before her voice becomes softer again, but no less wondrous. "I really want to marry her. I want to marry Chrissy so badly, Steve, I can't believe I didn't know.”

"And I can't believe you're realizing this after I asked you to marry me. Way to keep a guy's ego in check," Steve jokes with a big grin on his face. It's less news to him than it is to Robin, to be honest. Ever since Robin stumbled into their apartment with a piece of paper in her hand with a number on it, gushing about the gorgeous woman she had just met at the bookstore where she works, Steve knew his best friend was completely smitten with Chrissy Cunningham. That was four years ago, and they are still going strong, obviously madly in love.

She throws her arms around him and says, "I'm sorry," not sounding sorry at all, still giddy with her newfound realization. "I'll make it up to you. I actually might have an idea how we can get you your inheritance and still stick it to Grandma Harrington."

"I sense a but."

"But I can't guarantee it'll work."

"And..."

"And you might not like it at first, but honestly, it's genius, you just have to trust me. And if it really doesn't work out, then we'll get married and you'll pay for my 'I'm-sorry-I-love-you-please-stay-with-me-even-though-I'm-fake-marrying-my-best-friend' vacation with Chrissy. And the divorce."

Maybe it's the three beers he's already had, or maybe it's the fact that Robin would actually marry him just to help him out that makes him agree. He's sure he'll regret it along the way, but maybe he should take a leap of faith. If it doesn't work out, then it doesn't. No way to find out but to try.

Drunk Steve is clearly an optimist.

"I feel like I'm going to regret this, but all right. What's your plan?"

Robin grins mischievously, her eyes gleaming with excitement as she leans back, holding Steve at arm's length.

"Steve Harrington, you won't regret this, I promise," she declares, her tone brimming with confidence.

Steve rolls his eyes good-naturedly, unable to suppress a chuckle at Robin's enthusiasm. "I'll hold you to that, Robin. But seriously, when do I get to know the master plan?"

Robin's grin widens, but then she sobers slightly, a hint of seriousness creeping into her expression. "I need to talk to Chrissy first. It's... complicated. But I'll tell you everything as soon as I can, I promise."

Steve nods, a mixture of curiosity and apprehension swirling inside him. "Okay, fine. Just... don't keep me waiting too long, okay? I've had enough surprises for one night."

Robin reaches out, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "I won't, Steve. Trust me, this is going to work out. You'll see."

Despite his lingering doubts, Steve can't help but be swayed by Robin's unwavering confidence. With a nod, he squeezes her hand back, a silent agreement passing between them. Whatever Robin's plan entails, he knows his best friend has his back. And maybe, hopefully, they'll come out on top after all.

Drunk Steve should not be allowed to make any decisions, sober Steve decides.

Because he instantly regrets trusting Robin's secretive plan as soon as he steps into their apartment a week later, only to find not just Robin, but also her girlfriend Chrissy and Chrissy's best friend and roommate Eddie lounging in their living room.

All eyes turn towards him as he enters.

Robin's expression is the most transparent. Though the furrow between her brows is subtle, her lip-chewing and rhythmic tapping betray her worry, likely anticipating his reaction to whatever scheme they've concocted.

Chrissy, on the other hand, wears a radiant smile, her bubbly demeanor suggesting she's delighted about something. Yet, Steve can't shake the feeling that her enthusiasm might spell trouble. While he adores Chrissy and cherishes her friendship almost as much as he does Robin’s, he's well aware of her propensity for stirring up mischief.

Their shared history stretches back almost as far as hers and Robin's. It's a tradition for Robin and him to introduce their second dates to each other, one of their many platonic soulmate privileges. Steve often wonders if this practice inadvertently sabotages any chances of a third date, but he's unwilling to compromise on the importance of his friendship with Robin.

In any case, if someone can't accept his slightly unconventional bond with his best friend, they're probably not the right fit for him anyway.

Eddie's expression proves the most enigmatic. He appears utterly deer-in-the-headlights, his wide brown eyes resembling those of a startled doe. His usually pale complexion now seems even more ghostly. Steve notices how Eddie's fingers have been incessantly tousling his hair, rendering his dark curls resembling more of a chaotic bird's nest. Steve recognizes this as one of Eddie's nervous ticks, alongside fidgeting and rambling. His suspicions of Eddie's unease appear justified as Eddie avoids meeting Steve's gaze, opting instead to stare down at his hands, absently toying with his rings.

Something is going on and Steve has a sinking feeling that he won't like it.

"Um, hi?" He offers tentatively, his gaze flitting between Robin, Chrissy, and the nervously fidgeting Eddie. "Am I missing something here? Is this an early birthday surprise? Because if it is, I hate to break it to you, but my birthday's not for another nine months."

Before Robin can respond, Eddie interjects, his words tumbling out in a rush. "Hey, Steve! Yeah, it's been a while, hasn't it? Nah, no birthday party, man. We definitely know when your birthday is!"

"We do?" Chrissy chimes in with a playful grin, clearly jesting, as Steve knows she's the one who meticulously keeps track of important dates in their circle.

Eddie, caught off guard by Chrissy's banter, stumbles over his words. "Uh, yeah, of course! February 23rd. Remember that baseball-themed cake from last year? I almost dropped it on the icy ground!"

Steve remembers it too, mostly because he was so chuffed to learn that in order to save his cake, Eddie had taken the fall instead, choosing to land on his admittedly not very well padded backside so that the cake could live. He had been unable to sit properly at their little gathering all evening. Steve had felt sorry for him, but also fond in the face of Eddie's sacrifice for him.

"It's so good to see you, Steve. You look great today, that shirt really makes your eyes pop. Doesn't it, Eddie?" Chrissy gushes, nudging Eddie's side as he just stares at Steve in a way that makes Steve worry that he's about to go into cardiac arrest.

Eddie's mouth opens and closes like a fish. "Um..."

"Okay, what's going on, Robin?" Steve turns to the only person who doesn't act like she's on drugs or caught red-handed at a crime scene. Or both.

Robin, bless her soul, doesn't beat around the bush. "I told you I had a plan. This," and she points to Eddie of all people, "is my plan."

"That's Eddie," Steve states the obvious, but he feels he can't be blamed. Nothing makes sense, so he's glad for every single thing he knows. Then the rest of her statement sinks in.

Blinking at her, his eyes wide, he says the first thing that comes to mind. "You can't be serious!"

There's no way she's saying what he thinks she's saying. Because right now it looks like her plan to help him get his inheritance involves marrying Eddie. Which, no. No, no, no, no. Not Eddie. Maybe she means some other plan that Steve has forgotten. Like Eddie helping him with Dustin's birthday surprise, which sounded much more likely than -

"I told you he didn't want to marry me," Eddie's voice sounds loud in the stunned silence after Steve's reaction. "This was a stupid idea, I don't even know what I was thinking." Then, addressing Steve with his eyes somewhere to Steve's right, "Listen, man, I'm sorry. I totally get it, no hard feelings, okay? I wouldn't want to marry me either."

The wry chuckle doesn't sit well with Steve, nor does the way Eddie still refuses to meet his eyes, or the fact that he's started walking toward their front door. Before he can think about it, his hand wraps around Eddie's arm as he passes Steve on his way out.

"Eddie, wait." Eddie does, looking at Steve's hand wrapped around his forearm. Steve's grip isn't tight, so Eddie could easily break free, but he doesn't. He just looks, quietly waiting. Still not meeting Steve's eyes.

"I'm sorry, that came out wrong. I was just surprised, okay? A little warning would have been nice." The last part is mostly for Robin, who at least does look contrite at his words.

"It's fine, Steve, really. Don't worry about it. Now, if you'll excuse me. Places to be, things to do, see you when I see you, you know the drill."

Steve could let him go, maybe should let him go, because Eddie is obviously embarrassed and the whole situation has gone south anyway. But Eddie doesn't sound fine, and Steve feels terrible about his lack of a brain-to-mouth filter. Something that is usually Robin's specialty.

So instead of letting Eddie walk out of the apartment, Steve steps in front of him to block his way. "Eddie, please wait. I really didn't mean it the way you think I did, you have to believe me. You're a catch, okay? Anybody would be lucky to marry you."

And okay, wow, he didn't mean to say that, but it's the truth.

"You really mean that?" Eddie asks, pulling a strand of hair in front of his mouth. It looks incredibly cute and Steve wants to kill Robin for putting him in this position. She had said that he would not like her plan and that should have been reason enough for him to stop her. Because now he's between a rock and a hard place.

Either he lies and lets Eddie walk away thinking he's not good enough to be married, even if it is a scam to get his grandmother's inheritance. Or he tells the truth and risks getting his heart broken or their friendship ruined.

Because the thing is, Steve means every word. Steve has had a crush on Eddie for years. He's been able to keep those feelings in check because he and Eddie never spend time alone together. It's always group hangouts, or Eddie being there when he and Robin visit Chrissy, or Eddie joining them when they meet at their apartment. It also helps that Eddie keeps his distance from him. Sure, he's nice enough to Steve, but every time Steve tried to get close to the other man, his efforts were rebuked until he got the memo and stopped trying.

Before he can come to a decision, Robin steps in.

“I’m sorry we’re springing this on you, Steve. I could’ve prepared this a little bit better but Chrissy and I were so excited that we found the perfect solution, we couldn’t wait any longer.”

“And this is the perfect solution,” Chrissy jumps in, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Tell him Robin!”

Infected by Chrissy's enthusiasm, Robin’s voice carries an equally excited note. “You said it yourself, you’d need someone we can trust. And you trust Eddie, don’t you?”

Steve can feel Eddie’s eyes on him. “Of course I do.” He doesn’t miss the sharp intake of breath next to him at his decisive tone. Eddie’s a great guy, him rejecting Steve’s advances doesn’t change that.

Of course he trusts him because Eddie never gave him any reason not to.

But he remembers the stories Chrissy told them to explain why Eddie was a little wary of Steve. Apparently, Eddie didn't have it easy growing up. Chrissy wouldn't go into details because it's Eddie's story to tell, but she did mention that people used to treat Eddie like a criminal, a fuckup, trailer trash. Especially the jocks and rich kids at their high school, so since Steve was kind of both, Eddie had been wary of him.

So much so that Steve had overheard Eddie asking Chrissy once, early in her relationship with Robin, why Robin kept bringing that rich asshole jock over all the time. The words had hurt, but Chrissy's explanation had softened the blow. Still, he'd stopped trying to flirt with Eddie after that because he'd figured that even if Eddie came to accept him, he'd never be interested in going out with someone who reminded him so much of all the bullies in high school who had made his life a living hell.

All of which makes it easy to see how Steve's implicit trust could come as such a surprise to him. Which still kind of stings, because Steve had hoped that the last four years had shown Eddie that Steve was not what Eddie expected him to be just because he grew up rich and popular and into sports.

Before he can get lost in his thoughts about Eddie and what he has to do to earn Eddie's trust the way Eddie has his, Chrissy chimes in again, raising a finger. "So you trust Eddie. That's like the most important thing. Second," she raises another finger, making a playful peace sign in their direction, "Eddie's single. Not like Robin."

Ah, okay, Steve can see why Chrissy is so excited about her and Robin's 'plan'.

"'m sorry, Chrissy, for proposing to your girlfriend," Steve sheepishly apologizes, giving her a crooked smile, which she returns with a sunny one of her own.

"No hard feelings. I get it, believe me. Being with Robin means being stuck with you. Just like Robin is stuck with Eddie. Which is the third reason why this is a great idea," she adds, raising another finger. "We all spend a lot of time together already. Nothing really needs to change."

Aside from the fact that Steve secretly wishes things could change between him and Eddie, he's not so sure that's true. But to argue her point would mean revealing more about his feelings than he's comfortable with, so he lets it slide for now.

Objectively, Steve knows they're right. If he didn't still feel... something for Eddie, he probably wouldn't even hesitate. Because yes, he trusts Eddie not to screw him over, and he's also a close acquaintance who's been teetering on the edge of being a real friend for years. But he's also the reason Steve had to leave last year's Friendsgiving party early because Eddie showed up with some guy who couldn't keep his sleazy hands off of him. It drove Steve crazy to see someone else have what he wanted so badly.

In the end, it is the thought of being able to give Max all the chances she deserves that finally makes him look back at Eddie.

"And you're sure you want to do this? Fake marry me, I mean. Because, Eddie... I can't tell you how much I appreciate you being willing to do this to help me out, but... you don't have to do this, okay? It's not your mess or your fucked up family, it's mine."

Finally, Eddie is looking back at him, meeting his eyes.

"I do. Wanna do this, I mean. I know I don't have to, but -" Here Eddie pauses, apparently searching for the right words. After a few seconds he breathes a sigh and continues. "Look, for once, I love the idea of sticking it to an old homophobic hag, so that's a big incentive. Also, I was actually hoping you could help me out as well. Because there's this amazing record store that's for sale, but the bank refuses to give me a loan unless I have some kind of collateral. So I'm kind of hoping that being married will sway them."

At Steve's surprised look, Eddie hastens to add, "I don't want your money! That's for you and Max. Just the fact that I'm married to someone with money will probably be enough. And we can totally do a prenup or something like that."

Eddie sounds anxious, like he's afraid he's said something wrong, when in fact he's doing Steve a huge favor and asking for something incredibly small in return. Steve thinks he can't be blamed at this point, he just has to touch Eddie. So he does, pulling him into a tight hug.

"Thank you, Eddie. Really. Of course we can go to your bank and convince them to give you the loan. It's the least I can do to thank you."

It feels good to be holding Eddie like this, even more so when, after a moment's hesitation, Eddie hugs him back. Even though they've known each other for years, Steve can count the times they've done this on one hand. It's never lasted this long either, and Steve can't suppress his disappointment when Robin interrupts the quiet moment by clapping her hands excitedly, causing Eddie to pull away.

"Oh, I'm so glad we worked it out. Go us!"

Chrissy, just as excited, jumps up and down next to Robin. "I'm so happy for you guys! We can totally help you plan the wedding. It's going to be great, I know it."

Steve and Eddie look at each other in growing confusion.

"Chris," Eddie begins, his voice careful. He's clearly more experienced in dealing with an overly excited Chrissy, so Steve lets him take the lead. "You do realize that Steve and I are only getting married on paper, right? I don't think -"

"You can still have a wedding!" Chrissy interrupts, clearly not deterred by anything silly like pragmatism or logic. "It's still a special day, and you deserve to celebrate it with your friends and family."

Before Steve can say anything - what, he has no idea - Robin jumps in on the ‘you should have a real wedding’ party.

"Besides, it has to look real, right? Why wouldn't you have a real wedding if you were getting married? Everyone would wonder. It's just easier to pull out all the stops and make it look as real as possible so no one will question it."

And that... actually made a lot of sense. Goddammit.

Looking at Eddie with an apologetic look on his face, Steve says, "I guess she's right," and shrugs his shoulders in a ‘I wish she wasn't, but what can you do’ kind of way. Eddie, to his credit, just sighs and nods, accepting his fate with as much grace as he can. He glances at Chrissy, who is almost vibrating.

"Fine. Chris, do you want to help us plan a wedding?"

She actually squeals. "Yes, yes, yes!" Then she rushes over and pulls them into a group hug.

Steve, looking over Chrissy's head at Robin, opens his arm. "Come here, Buckley." It's all the invitation Robin needs to join their celebratory hug.

For just this moment, Steve allows himself to feel as if this is all real, him and Eddie announcing their wedding and their two best friends in the whole world sharing in their happiness. It's a nice feeling, and when he leans his head on Robin's shoulder and looks at Eddie, he finds him looking back with the same soft smile on his face as the one Steve thinks must be on his own.

[queenaeducan]

In Defense of Spirits

Or, alternatively:

I. Introduction

Spirits are one of my favourite parts of the Dragon Age lore, but they didn't start that way! Initially with Origins the various demons I fought I considered little more than cannon fodder, enemies put in my way to cut down so I could move on with my mission. With the introduction of Justice in Awakening and Dragon Age II coupled with Merrill’s alternate perspective also introduced in the latter, my feelings about them started to change. Solas and Cole crack those feelings wide open come Inquisition, and when replaying the games I found myself questioning the motivations of encounters with people I once considered one-note enemies.

I wanted to compile a list of these alternate readings of the various spirits we meet throughout the series, starting first with Origins. I'll be detailing some common themes and, where it’s appropriate, to defend their actions. This list is not comprehensive as there are some encounters I don’t consider significant or interesting enough to mention, although if someone’s curious about a particular spirit I’m happy to oblige. For the purposes of clarity, if I use the word “spirit” I am still referring to all denizens of the Fade, whether they call themselves Pride or Compassion. I may use the word “demon,” as a treat.

The purpose of this retrospective is to reflect upon the motivations of the spirits we kill through the series and how I think Bioware successfully created a world where, in this instance, we were sucked into their preconceived biases regarding spirits. And hopefully to make you feel as bad as I do when I’m forced to kill spirits who probably are better people than my player characters. I am also not arguing that everything I put forth here was intended by the writers. I have the reach and flexibility to pull out threads they didn’t expect me to.

Finally, this won’t be an exhaustive examination. There are a lot of spirits and some don’t invite discussion on my part.

II. Analytical Lens

There are several recurring themes that will crop up when I’m recontextualising the motivations of the spirits throughout the series. We’ll be going over these in detail as we talk about individual spirits, but for now:

The Veil is a construct. There was initially no barrier stopping them from moving back and forth freely, and in many ways their desire to manifest physically outside the Fade is a natural inclination. The problem being that going there and back again isn’t as easy as it once was.

They don’t understand this world. Again, I think the presence of the Veil exacerbates this. Time and again we see spirits who do have enough will to manifest safely have difficulty adjusting. 

Trying to help hurts. Spirits can’t sicken with Blight or the common cold (that we know of), but intense emotions or cruel intentions can twist them from their purposes. Those who reach out in the honest urge to help may find themselves burned, sometimes through no fault of either party.

Their design encourages dehumanisation. For lack of a better word, considering this is a land of elves, dwarves, qunari, and so on. Many of the spirits we’re asked to empathise with are humanoid, with those we are at odds with being more likely to be monstrous or animal in design, making it easier to justify why we need to choose violence.

III. Dragon Age: Origins

Mouse

Mouse is among the first spirit players will meet in Dragon Age, depending on whether or not they play the Mage origin or not. Narratively he is meant to introduce the player to the role spirits often play in the lives of mages, that is to say: an evil that is not always self-evident. He tells a sympathetic lie, presents himself as someone who was once in a position like the protagonist currently is, and wants to make sure they don’t end up like him, only for it to be revealed that the entire reason he’s there is to possess them. At least, nominally that’s his role. A second pass at Mouse’s actions does raise questions as to his true intentions.

Throughout the test Mouse encourages two things within the protagonist: their self-worth and their questioning of the ritual. The former makes sense, he is ultimately revealed to be a spirit of Pride and so to stoke the protagonist’s own pride may inflate their confidence to a point where they can’t see the potential harm in dealing with him. Still, in a society where magic is feared and mages prisoners, there is something radical in encouraging that in someone. Especially when paired with remarks Mouse makes where he questions the logic of the Harrowing itself:

“It isn’t right they do this, the Templars. Not to you, me, anyone.”

This is one of the first things he says to you, and is one of the first pieces of Circle critical rhetoric in the entire series. From the perspective of the protagonist at the time, it would seem he’s referring only to apprentices, but is he? Spirits are drawn into the Harrowing as much as mages, ostensibly willingly with the promise of a body to possess, but we see in rituals such as the one that drew Wisdom into the world that the Circle isn’t above shackling spirits into doing their bidding, be it as a means of protection or garnering information. Once inside, they’re subject to the will of the apprentice, who have been taught to fear and mistrust the Fade since they were first brought to the Circle. So is Mouse expressing bitterness about the situation of the apprentices, or is he looking at the situation as being equally unfair to all involved?

Furthermore, what’s most interesting about Mouse is he never actually tries to possess you. He makes some requests, which Surana or Amell can’t agree to, but even if you avoid catching onto his game for as long as you can it never goes farther than that. He reveals himself as the final test and before the Harrowing ends he dispenses the to-be Warden a warning:

“Simple killing is a warrior’s job. The real dangers of the Fade are preconceptions, careless trust… pride. Keep your wits about you, mage. True tests never end.”

A piece of wisdom, if you will.

I don’t believe Mouse ever truly intended to possess you, although it’s impossible to tell if he truly would or not without the ability to agree to his bargain. He gives up the game too quickly, with the Warden only needing to vaguely doubt his story before he reveals it. By following the Warden through their Harrowing he helps them successfully bargain with spirits like Valor and Sloth and safely introduces the idea that not everything here is as it seems. Rather than being purely a Pride demon, I think Mouse is a spirit of Wisdom influenced by the Warden’s preconceptions towards what some might call the darker aspect of the values he represents. 

While I don’t think it’s out of the realm of possibility that Mouse was exactly what we’re led to believe, nevertheless I believe it probable that spirits aren’t always gleeful participants in the Harrowing and that the rite is damaging to them as well as the apprentice mages.

Desire

We go now to another spirit from the Circle, specifically the Desire demon we meet in the Broken Circle quest. When we come across her she’s possessed a Templar and letting him live out a fantasy of having a wife and children. When the Warden and their party come across her, she argues that she’s giving him what he wants and doesn’t see the harm in it. Upon my first playthrough I took this as a lie and killed her, although it was difficult not feeling bad, as from the perspective of the enthralled Templar he died defending his family from bandits. To him the Warden was unequivocally the bad guy, and it’s tragic thinking about what his final thoughts might have been.

As for Desire herself, I think there’s an argument to be made that she simply didn’t see a difference between her making a life for herself and the Templar all within his head and a physical, lived life. We see in Inquisition especially, where we talk to more spirits, that the nature of the physical world is as alien to them as the Fade is to mortals. Command wonders out loud why the rocks do not move at her command, and Cole asks Varric to talk to his shoelaces for him because they “don’t listen to him.” They existed in a world where will mattered more and where dreams were real, so it stands to reason that to Desire there is no discernable difference between giving him what he wants for real and dreaming it.

Interestingly, you can choose to let them both go, and we get no indication of where they go from the Circle. Leliana also approves because she thinks what counts is that he’s happy. Personally I don’t feel there’s a right option in this quest as either leaves the Templar in a tragic spot, but I do think the Desire demon’s motivations aren’t as evil or manipulative as they seemed on my first playthrough.

Lady of the Forest

The Lady is perhaps the first spirit in the series given a more complicated character than “spirit good, demon bad.” We have Valor in the mage origin, Wynne’s spirit of Faith, etc, but they aren’t given much characterisation and their benevolent nature is taken as a matter of fact. We have a biased introduction to her, we see the damage she has done to Zathrian’s clan and hear his side of the story. We go into the forest to carve the heart from her chest.

But when the time comes to actually speak with her, his bias and deception is plain. She has all the trappings of a demon: summoned at a point of great tragedy, as a tool of vengeance, enacting a literal curse upon Zathrian’s enemies. Yet now she is an advocate for non-violent solutions, only compelled to violence by desperation (she sent letters but Zathrian left her on read) or by the player’s encouragement (potentially). I do think this was an end she worked towards, and didn’t come by naturally, saying to the Warden at one point:

“Then the time has come to… set our rage aside. I apologise on Swiftrunner’s behalf. He struggles with his nature.”

While she is speaking of Swiftrunnher, given she is the curse’s origin, I think the same could be said of her nature (as it is her curse). Zathrian implies much the same, saying to her:

“Your nature compels it, as does mine.”

I think it’s very likely that had we encountered the Lady those hundred years ago when she was first made, she would have been to our eyes a demon, rather than the semi-benevolent force of nature she appears as in-game. Interestingly, her outward nature doesn’t change if she is compelled to kill the Dalish. She isn’t thrilled, but neither is her nature twisted. She’s pretty quick to move on, afterwards. Of the major spirits in DA:O, I do think she is an outlier in the series. Killing her is the bad option, especially when a mutually beneficial solution is forced upon you. She also has a stronger presence of mind than many of the other spirits, perhaps accounting to her age and the fact that she is tethered to the world through not only Zathrian but her ‘followers.’ It’s fitting that the Dalish quest is the one where a spirit is presented not only sympathetically, but (as far as I can tell) exclusively referred to as a spirit whether they are doing right or wrong.

Rage

We meet many Rage demons in Origins, and throughout the series, but the spirit I’m referring to are the ones we meet in the Alienage’s orphanage. The recent site of a massacre, the orphanage is now home to a spirit of Rage who attacks those who enter. Rage, I thought, was a curious choice, when Despair and Terror exist. Although the fact that they probably didn’t want to make a new spirit model for this one sidequest would probably explain it on a development level, but then I wondered— whose rage?

The spirits don’t seem to embody the rage of the people who massacred the orphanage, or even the rage of the victims. They tell the Warden and Ser Otto that they “do not belong here” and one is furious that the party has killed “my brood.” I think the presence of the spirits here is indicative of how helpful or benevolent spirits can be twisted by the horrors of our world, that they were drawn by the misery of what happened at the orphanage and upon witnessing it they became enraged. They are ultimately protecting nothing, just an empty building that’s probably best torn down or cleared out, or whatever the elves of Denerim’s Alienage decide they need to properly mourn. Yet as we walk through the building the screams of children still play around us, it’s still happening for its current residents.

In the final encounter of the quest, the Rage demon targets and kills Ser Otto (assuming those mabari you encounter like two minutes in don’t get him first, like they do for me every time if I’m not paying attention) first out of your entire party. It makes sense, although his motivation was pure, he is representative of the human justice that allows horrors like this, and what’s more— how many orphans were taken from the orphanage’s midst by people wearing armour just like his, never to return?

The rage demons had every right to be angry, even if their anger manifested in a harmful way. The tragedy is that, outside of Denerim’s Alienage, most people weren’t.

IV. Other

These are spirits whose roles I don’t have much to say about, for one reason or another.

Kitty. I don’t have much to say about Kitty, who as a reminder is the spirit held captive in the basement of Wilhelm, the former master of Shale. Given Kitty can agree to not possess Amalia, content simply to be free of the basement, and then doubles back on that promise once you complete the puzzle, I don’t have the highest opinion of Kitty. However, can I do want to point out that Wilhelm held Kitty captive in his basement for decades for his research. Research which, by the way, was to find ways to prevent mages from becoming possessed. A little ironic that he essentially possessed a spirit to do so. I want to point this out only because I think it highlights how spirits are casually used by people and at no point do we stop and wonder what decades of being locked up in a basement outside of their intended realm of existence might do to someone, even a metaphysical someone.

Herren. The merchant and life partner of the blacksmith Wade, who may have made your Warden some nice armour from all those endangered dragons they killed. In the Darkspawn Chronicles Herren is fought— as a desire demon. Gaider says this is not canon, but he doesn’t even go here anymore, so instead I’d like to put forth the idea that Herren is a desire demon taken physical form who lives out his existence peacefully (if somewhat grumpily) with his eccentric husband. I have no evidence of this being a fact, in fact I have the opposite of evidence, but I like my version better, so.

The Grand Oak. I think everyone with a modicum of taste likes this guy, but I do think he's an interesting lens to look at how spirits in Elvhenan might have lived. I like to think all of them had a period where they just vibed as a tree for a hundred years or so.

[allastoredeer]

Me : well maybe it's not that bad?

Me : looking for radioapple art and immediately get hit with big buff Alastor and tiny shorter than in canon Lucifer, Lucifer in a dress getting fucked by Alastor, Lucifer in a dress getting fucked by big buff Alastor, Lucifer who look like 5 yo and 'suave sugar daddy' Alastor who holds him and each with thousands of likes and absolutely zero of anything else than that

Me : nope 🙃😔

Save me Vox/Al artists, save me

Man, I love Vox/Alastor art so much.

I just love the Vox/Alastor ship as a whole, be it one-sided, mutual, or anything in between, and a lot of it stems from Alastor still feeling like he's Alastor.

I mean, I think people make Alastor a little more cruel and heartless towards Vox sometimes, but overall he still feels like himself. He gets to be dangerous and manipulative and he gets to be silly and whimsical. It's perfect.

Adding a cut right here because this post got WAY longer than I anticipated ⬇️

I think with RadioApple, when it comes to Alastor, people lean too much into this:

And not enough into this:

It feels like his fun, sassy, and whimsical side gets stripped away and he's turned into a stereotypically tall, dark and menacing love interest.

Where's his flamboyancy? His razzamatazz! As Susan would say, "Where's the showmanship? Where's the pizzaz? Fucking mediocre."

If I'm reading a fic or looking at art and I can't imagine their Alastor doing one of his girly-pop wrist flicks -

- then I can't keep going. His girly-pop vibes are too important to me.

Of course, when it comes to tone in both fics and art, sometimes fun and whimsical aren't what the artist is going for. But even outside of NSFW art and stories, so often Alastor just feels...bland. He feels too stiff. Too much like a suave, old fashioned, smooth talking gentleman, and not enough like a fun, silly, and sassy little freak who loves trolling people.

And with Lucifer if feels like they lean too much into this:

And not enough of this:

I feel like any, if not all, of Lucifer's flaws are brushed aside so often and so easily.

He feels softened and watered down. Like he's either a sad & awkward UwU boi all the time, or he's the most flamboyant, seductive little minx there is. And to be fair, he is both a very sad boi and a seductive little minx.

But rarely does he ever come across as powerful to me. A lot of the time he feels too normal. Or too sad and naive. Literally, like he could be any other sinner if I didn't already know he was the kind of Hell. And that's so funny to me because we've seen him openly and extravagantly display his powers multiple times in the show--not to the extent that he did in the finale--but he was definitely flaunting all the things he could do, make, or summon for Charlie during his musical-battle with Alastor. He was 100% showing off how powerful he is.

Not only that, but, honestly, Lucifer feels too open and sincere because that man is judgmental as fuck.

Going back to the "Dad Beat Dad" episode, there are multiple examples of him being a self-righteous little shit: 1) he was incredibly critical of Charlie's hotel the moment he stepped inside, even if he tried, and failed, to cover it, 2) he didn't even try to hide his disgust for Alastor's bar, which he didn't even know was incorporated by Alastor (who he hadn't even met him yet) and could've been incorporated by Charlie or Vaggie, for all he knew, 3) he wasn't taking Charlie's hotel or her plan for redemption seriously from the start, he didn't even have his mind open to the possibility, he wasn't there to hear about her plans he was only there to see her, and 3) when the hotel was attacked by the loan sharks, instead of making them go away or preventing the hotel from being damaged - which he could have very easily done with no amount of effort - he hung back and smugly reiterated that he was right and sinners can't be redeemed and Charlie should just give up on her goals/dreams because it's just not possible so there's no point in trying.

Like, Charlie was very clearly in distress over her hotel being attacked and destroyed, but he was too busy boasting about how he'd been "proven" right to see that.

He's very easy to anger and his ego is so easily bruised. Alastor got under his skin immediately and effortlessly - though I also believe that's on part that Lucifer doesn't have a high opinions of sinners anyway - and Lucifer 100% escalated the conversation/argument he had with Alastor during their first meeting.

See the whole scene of him referring to Alastor as a "has-been" and insulting the name he'd given the hotel, especially when you take into consideration that until Alastor said that he named the hotel, Lucifer thought it was Charlie who came up with it.

And I'm not going to say that Alastor was an innocent, picked on little baby in that scene, he was 100% riling up Lucifer from the start, but also, like...Alastor's lines weren't outright antagonist like Lucifer's were. They were more subtle, slightly needling and passive aggressive, but nothing that could really be taken as a insult.

This is literally the dialogue, word for word, of their very first interaction:

Lucifer: What in the unholy Hell is that?!

Alastor: Just some of the renovations we had done. Adds a bit if color, don't you think?

Lucifer: And you are?

Alastor: Alastor, pleasure to be meeting you, Sir, quite a pleasure. It's nice to finally put a face to the name. You are much shorter in real life.

Lucifer: Who is this? Who is this now - are you the bellhop?

Alastor: Ah-ha, no! I am the host of the hotel. You might've heard of me from my radio broadcast.

Lucifer: Hmm, nope! I guess that's why Charlie called it the "has-been" hotel, hahaha!"

Alastor: Ha ha ha, it was actually my idea.

Lucifer: Ha ha, well it's not very clever.

Alastor: Ha ha, fuck you.

Like. That's their first interaction. And if you go back and actually pay attention to facial expressions and body languages, this was the first time he's seen Alastor, and Lucifer was immediately disdainful.

I went back and screenshotted Lucifer's face, right after Alastor's first line (which was a relatively innocent in and of itself and didn't even sound that antagonist), and:

That's a lot of disesteem for someone he literally just met. At most, you could argue that it was Alastor's smirk or tone that set him off ⬇️:

But even that is such a small thing to get upset over.

I'd say the only time Alastor really started getting openly hostile towards Lucifer was when he wiped his hand after shaking Lucifer's cane (which Lucifer didn't even see as he was too busy fixing his hat) and commenting on Lucifer's height (as a shortie myself, can confirm, that'll get on the nerves very fast).

My point is, Lucifer was immediately unfriendly towards Alastor and escalated the situation just as quickly, if not quicker, than Alastor did. Alastor implied that Lucifer might know of his radio broadcast, and Lucifer jumped right to calling him a "has-been." He doesn't even know him. This is their very first meeting. He was judgy and dismissive of Alastor at first sight, and, let's be honest, he kind of threw the first punch with that "has-been" line. Alastor said Lucifer was shorter than expected, but it's not like he laughed, pointed at him and called him a undercooked little chicken nugget. I'm sure a lot of demons/sinners who've never seen Lucifer would also assume he would be taller and more menacing at first glance, and I doubt this is the first time someone was surprised with his height (still not cool, Alastor. We vertically challenged folk have feelings too).

But Lucifer was prejudice from the start and antagonized Alastor just as quickly, and way more openly, than Alastor did to him. And don't get me wrong, this isn't me saying that's a bad thing on Lucifer's part! This isn't me criticizing or scorning him for it. I think it speaks so much of him as a character!

Cause we've seen the soft and tender moments he has with Charlie. We know how much he loves and cares for her. But he's also egotistical, antagonistic, and judgmental as hell, and that's what makes him such a fun character to write about. He's awkward yet showy, smug yet caring, depressed yet prideful. And by god, this man will show off his power without hesitation. He knows he's hot shit. He knows he's the strongest person in all of Hell. He knows he's the top dog and he can do whatever he wants - even if he has no love or interest in interacting within the Pride Ring (as far as we've been shown).

He's got a lot of multi-facets to him and I adore it, and that's why I get so annoyed when all of that is stripped away and he's turned into this soft little sunshine UwU boi who's just a sad, sweet lil lamb who's done no wrong.

No! He has done many wrongs! There's a reason he and Charlie were estranged and I don't think it was Lilith's fault - or, at least, I don't think it was all her fault (I have many thoughts about Lucifer and Lilith's divorce, okay)

I didn't mean for this to turn into a full-blown character analysist post LOL but alas I tend to get carried away. This was all to say, I really enjoy RadioStatic because Alastor typically gets to keep his sadistic and whimsical side, and I appreciate that. His silliness means a lot a to me, and if he comes off as too stiff or formal, it takes me out of a story.

Lucifer's flaws and sheer power also mean a lot to me, and I wish there were more fics and fan-art that showed that. If Lucifer reads too much like a normal, every-day person, I lose interest. I like the idea of people getting used to him, and getting comfortable around his presence, only to get a sudden and overwhelming reminder that he is, in fact, an ancient and immortal being with immense power that their brains wouldn't even be able to comprehend.

I have so many headcanons about Lucifer as a fallen angel and how his habits and lifestyle developed over the thousands upon thousands of years he's been in Hell. Habits he's adopted that unconsciously help him duplicate the mannerisms and behavior of sinners and demons, but also those small, indistinct tells that are quick and subtle reminder that he could destroy everyone in Pentagram City with ease if he decided to; and also, those times if you were to look closely and really pay attention, you get the faint, unsettling feeling that there is something very un-human about him. A subtle, unnerving shiver down your spine as your instincts yell at you that this person is not a person at all, he's just passing off as one.

That shit gets me. Give me ancient, eldritch Lucifer and I'll love you forever.

I am sorry Anon, I did not mean for this response to get so big 😅 You gave me a paragraph and I gave you a novel. But yeah, save me RadioStatic artists, save me 🙏 I rarely have to worry about Alastor turning into a big, buff alpha man or a soft little UwU when he's with Vox, and I appreciate that.

Edit: Adding a screenshot of my tags here because apparently I wrote down too many and it cut off the character tags.

[marxo-fm]

Mild Sweet

✯ Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Your dad hosts a welcoming party for a good friend who’s coming back from Seattle after quite some time. BBQs, drinks, dancing, and a good ol' time. Until you realize the friend, is your secret crush. A silly little crush that turned into something more, but you've kept it a secret most of the time. What happens when you two rekindle and talk, and that secret is unable to be kept in for any longer?

Warnings: MDNI+18, mentions of adult themes and language, mentions of alcohol and swearing, smut with slight plot, afab!reader age gap (reader-late twenties, Joel-early forties), praising, pet names, no use of y/n, fingering, talking you through it, oral!f-receiving, fear of getting caught, no descriptions of race/ethnicity, skin color, hair type/length, or body type.

Words: 1.8k

A/N: Long awaited, I apologize, but I hope that with this fic--you can forgive me. Life has been hectic, but I am on break finally, so I chose to use this time to feed my deprived peeps. I hope you all enjoy reading this, just as much as I enjoyed writing this. Thank you!

Update: This has been sitting in my drafts since the dawn of time, I’m not on break anymore, I GRADUATED, I have all the free time now. Just wanted to clarify if I go missing again, it’s going to be because of college. That’s all, thank you, you may continue. -if this is bad, I’m sorry, this was from months ago. Go easy on meeeee.

—

“Well yeah hun, I sure am hosting a barbecue party. I don’t care if it’s damn near hot enough for my skin to fall off, I am going to host it.” Protested your dad as he chugged his second can of beer. He won’t tell you further details, which confused you since you had every right to know. Not only because you’re his daughter, but because you’d like to know who the hell this mystery friend is that your father keeps talking about. Says it’s to be kept a surprise until he finally makes it to San Antonio. Which, by the way, you don’t even know when that’ll be either.

“Is this barbecue party even going to happen? Or are you just going to pass it off to someone else in this neighborhood?” The two of you stood eye to eye in the agonizing heat of Texas. Hell, you’re used to it, but it sure did make you frustrated. The humidity didn’t help either. Flies were everywhere and yellow grass that used to be bright green surrounded your home, it used to be a shade of green similar to a green highlighter—in spring that was. You look at the grass and back at your dad, who left the conversation and went to his truck. He opens the passenger seat and shouts, “Get your butt in here, we gotta get the supplies ready for this damn barbecue!” His country accent cuts through sharper than any knife.

It’s hard to take him seriously sometimes.

--

“Remember when you told me you didn’t need my help?” 

Your dad looks at you with an eyebrow raised and back at the road.

“Kid, don’t make me rethink my choice now. I only said that because sometimes your ol’ man likes to do things his way. Cause’ you see, back in my day-” 

“Back in my day, my daddy made me do all the hard work. Dad, I’ve heard this story many times growing up, I know.” You mocked, chuckling a little under your breath carefully trying to not chuckle too hard. 

“Well, in that case, you’re right. But I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Your eyes widen in surprise, carefully leaning over the console of your dad’s truck. What could this darn secret be?

“Remember my good ol’ friend, Joel Miller? That good-looking pal who’s just a few years younger than me? Well, he went over to Seattle with his kid, Sarah. Ya know, family bonding time and whatnot.” Your dad lost his focus looking at his rearview mirror and blindspots before turning left, then continued, “Fortunately, he’s coming back to San Antonio and I’m throwing this barbecue party to welcome him. I’m sure he’d love it, his kid too, and well of course–all of our friends included.”

Joel Miller. A name that went through your head a million times. Over and over.

A man you have had a long and forbidden crush for, a feeling that grew intense over time.

The feelings died down for a bit when he was gone for God knows how long, but they came back. And you don’t know how to feel about it.

--

“Okay, everything’s ready y’all just gotta set em’ up now. We don’t have much time.” Instructed your dad to his fellow friends and a few relatives. Other relatives were far too busy for the welcoming party. Out of all the other days your dad chooses to throw this party, it just has to be on a Sunday.

A few of your dad’s friends were preparing the meats, Joel was going to be here any minute now, and you grew hot. Unsure whether it was this agonizing heat of San Antonio, or if it was just you. Something about the way he walks, talks, looks, is what gets your gears moving. His gray hair, his voice, his body. Hell, at this point you’d rather have Joel for dinner rather than that damn barbecue. But you swore to keep yourself sane and still, especially in front of your dad. He’d surely laugh if he found out about your crush towards Joel, then switch to being confused…and finally, angry.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Your dad walks up to you, handing you an apron. What in God’s earth is he making me do? Surely he wouldn’t make you prepare meats and have you cook them, after all, you just want to impress and look good for Joel. You bought an entirely new dress just for this damn welcoming party, hoping to somewhat catch his attention.

A short and light purple dress that reveals just enough.

God, this is pathetic. Dressing all pretty for man who wouldn’t even bat an eye at his good friend’s daughter. Or maybe, if you’re lucky enough, he might. You still have to greet him, so yes, you’re going to talk to him. It’s to respect him and it’s common sense since well—it is a welcoming party…

“He should be here any minute now hun, just put this apron on and go help out.”

“Do I have to? I mean, your nieces and nephews are over there sitting doing nothing. I’d rather prepare the table.”

Your dad looks over at your cousins then back at the table you insisted on doing. The table didn’t have any plates on it, nor did it have decorations.

“You’re right, the table does need some…stuff on it.”

You walk on over to prepare the table, when you a truck pull up from behind the fences of your backyard. That’s when you feel yourself sweating gallons and breathing heavier. You thought maybe it was just a neighbor, but you were proven wrong.

Joel Miller is here.

—

“Dad, Joel is here. I think.” Your dad looks at your in a state of shock, only because everything hasn’t been prepared yet and well, everyone is supposed to be hiding to surprise Joel.

“Y’all needa hide, Joel’s here. Drop everything and hide somewhere before he sees us!” Everyone—including yourself—go in hiding. You choose to hide under the table you were planning on finishing work at. Y’know, decorating it and all. But you were too late. You see everyone smiling or giggling in excitement, ready to surprise Joel. He hasn’t been in Texas for God knows how long; would you blame him?

You hear footsteps inching closer and closer, and that's when you hear him say, "anyone here?"

You and everyone else jump out from your hiding places, the word surprise didn't leave your mouth, your jaw just hung open instead.

He changed, looks more grunt than usual, but also happy because of the welcoming party. It irked you, but you ignored it.

The black shirt he wore fit nicely on his body, he must've worked out or something, his shoulders are broad. It gave you something to think about, and your face reddens. He finally looks at you, Joel was more focused on your face rather than your dress. He did acknowledge it, though, but...you looked different. Not in a bad way, just different. It must be the makeup style you chose to wear, or the purple dress that radiated your face. Either way, his look had you holding on to the table harder.

"Been so long pal, c'mere." People shared awkward glances, but it went away when Joel hugged your dad. They shared it for quite some time, but it was needed.

"m' I really this important that you threw a welcoming party?"

Your dad smiles, "sure is Joel, been so long ain't nothing for me to do other than drink my beers alone without ya. But you're finally here." He pats your dad on the shoulder with a smile, continuing their small talk before Joel greets the others.

--

You wondered why Joel hasn't greeted you yet, you felt as if you maybe did something wrong. Surely not, you scoff, as if he was here for anything like that. You don't know, but your head kept pestering you about it. His daughter is at a table full of friends and cousins, "at least his daughter greeted me." You innocently whispered under your breath, unaware that Joel heard you just across the table. You sat by your dad, so Joel heard it, but was already making plans to greet you some other way. You just had no clue yet.

You catch him eyeing your dress, and he notices you looking. You quickly shy away, but he chuckles and goes back to eating his food. Lust and heat pumped through your veins, and your heart was beating a hundred beats per minute. At any rate now, you're sure you'd have a heart attack.

He wasn't even doing anything. All he did was look at your outfit.

You did a good job at catching his attention, but the tension was far too much. The sexual tension. Did he feel the same? Or was he innocently looking? You look up to see him manspreading from the fulfilling dinner he just ate, his shirt raised a little. You could see his tanned skin just above his belt. Unsure of what the hell that made you feel just now. Joel still craved something deep down, dessert, more specifically.

"Hey dad, may you excuse me for a minute. I need to use the restroom." He nodded and you hurriedly scurried off inside your house. Closing the door behind you shut, and you quickly catch your breath.

Everything intensified, everything from top to bottom. The heat between your legs, you're sure your underwear is soaked.

He didn't even do anything.

--

You locked yourself in the restroom. sort of trying to recollect yourself after your encounter. But what the hell were you even thinking? Where was the respect? No hugs, not a thank you, or even a hello?!

You were interrupted suddenly by a knock on the door. "It's occupied!" You respond.

Another knock.

"I thought I told you that this restroom is occupied?" You grew frustrated. One more knock and it sent you over the edge.

"What the hell do you not understand?"

"It's Joel, open the damn door." He ordered. His voice was huskier, angry and needy almost. Your heart pounds and you began to question your dignity.

"C'mon sweet cakes, open the door." You had no choice, knowing Joel, he'd continue with his knocks and the continuous, "let me in."

"Okay," you sighed, "I'll let you in, just gimme a moment."

There wasn't a word behind the door, just silence.

Deep breaths in and deep breaths out, you finally walk to the door and open it.

Joel greeted you with the hungriest kiss known to mankind. Like a predator to his prey. He shut the door behind him and managed to find a way to lock it. His hand immediately grabs the back of your neck, gripping your hair tight to get a better hold of you. All you felt was his mouth on yours, all thoughts gone. Out the window.

You struggled to breathe but your hands find their way on his broad shoulders, you held his shoulder tight to keep you from falling. Knees are weak and dignities are gone.

His tongue goes in deeper, and you do the same with yours, the sound of kisses filled the silence in the bathroom, but you didn't care. It was like a dream come true, kissing the man you've always felt something for. But has he felt the same? You know, following you to the bathroom to kiss you had to signify that.

You pull away, a string of saliva leaving both of your lips. His hand slides down your back, holding your waist and pulling you closer to his body.

You're both panting, trying to regain your breaths.

"We shouldn't be doing this."

"But you want to, don'tcha sweetheart?" He pulls you impossibly closer, "I saw the way you eye fucked me over there, doing that while wearing this little dress won't do you no good doll."

"Why won't it do me no good? And I wasn't eye fucking you, I was upset at the fact that you didn't even acknowledge me over there."

"Can't tell ya that." He smirks.

You grew frustrated, Joel loves the way your brows furrow. Thinkin' bout how your brows would be furrowing the way his cock rammed deep inside of you. "Y'know, I didn't have my dessert yet. You willin' to give me that?"

Your eyes widen, the knots in the pit of your belly only grew tighter. You knew very well what he implied, and you had no problem giving Joel this. Because as soon as those words left his mouth, he picked you up and sat you down on the cold counter roughly. Causing you to wince in response from the cold contact of the bathroom counter.

"Joel.." you breathed, unsure of what you're seeing is just a dream of if it's fucking real.

"Want me to make you feel good baby? I'll make you feel so good, I'll show you what it's like to be loved by me."

You pant in need and want, "y..yes, I want you to make me feel good, Joel."

"I'll make you feel good, baby." It took you a second to process, only because you can't believe this is about to happen. You're shy, it took a moment before Joel did it for you. His warm rough hands touching your knees and spreading your legs made you moan in response.

"Look at ya, already moaning and I haven't even done nothing."

He pulls you closer, your legs beside his waist as he goes back in for a kiss. This time, it's gentler, softer. It was all sudden, and new. Just a few minutes ago, he was eating your face.

He groans in your mouth, you taste too good to him. He can only imagine how sweet his dessert would taste. This was only a sample, a fraction of what he's about to go in for.

He gives your jawbone peppered kisses, all the way down to your neck, then your collarbone. You hold on to the counters as he made his way down, pushing your purple dress you wore specifically for him.

Then he gets down on his knees, sliding your soaked panties off. You watch as it makes way down to your ankles. "Oh doll, you're so wet for me. That's my girl."

Hearing him call you his girl sure put you in a haze, it all felt unreal.

His head is now between your thighs, and the sight alone makes you close to finishing already.

His tongue brushes against your aching clit and your head tilts back, your thoughts are literally everywhere. Puzzle pieces waiting to be solved, yet you're focused on Joel's head in between your legs.

Your legs spread further once Joel drags his tongue along your throbbing, cunt. Groaning as he's savoring the taste of his dessert. You squirm and move under his touch when his tongue rasps over your sensitive flesh. "Stay still sweetheart." He warned as his arms wrap around your legs to keep you spread open for him.

"Ah, Joel..." You pant, unable to keep it down. "Keep your voice down, unless you want everyone to hear how good I make my sweet girl feel." His dirty words and praises made it so hard to.

He flicks the tip of his tongue back and forth, giving everything he has. You bite down on your lips, "attagirl, doin' so good for me. 'S right."

You almost want to cry out as he devours you, your legs keep him in place as you feel the heat in the pit of you belly grow intensely hotter. You're so wet for him, and you can't help but roll your hips to get more. Watching his head buried into you was so illicit, so real.

"Joel, I'm so close-" you struggled to whisper or even say a full sentence. He continues, but this time, his tongue finds its way inside of your leaking cunt. You moan, he looks up at you. Eye contact was way too intense.

"Taste so fuckin' good for me, ya like watching me eat your sweet pussy hm?" His jaw works more, and you can't help but fight the urge to scream his name. Your chest rose with each stroke of his tongue on your cunt.

Suddenly, his hands leave the tight hold he had on you and hastily unbuckling his belt. He pushes down his jeans, along with his boxers, and the sight before you were everything and more.

You watched his cock spring up, and your eyes widen in shock. He's big, and you didn't know how the hell he is going to fit. Your cunt ached for him, growing more needy. You grab his hair and pull him closer, he hums with affirmation. Joel goes back down, this time to finish what he started.

His familiar touch sent waves of shock throughout your body. Mind clouded and head pounding, you grind into his mouth, chasing your orgasm like an owner chasing his dog. And finally, you explode into fragments of pleasure. Stars and colors were all you could see and hear.

Joel then licks his lips, looking down at your cunt before he inserts his cock slowly. Torture almost. Your eyes roll back and Joel groans at the sight in front of him, this beautiful and glowing woman in front of him. He never thought, at his age, he’d get to see this again. But he hopes he sees it forever.

He thrusts slow and then fast as he listened to your melodic moans and whimpers. It only made him want to go faster and faster, and the coil in the pit of your belly finally snaps and you shake. His thrusts become sloppy, “fuck, you’re so good to me, hun.” He praised as he too followed after you.

“Want me to come in this pretty pussy? Hm? Talk to me.” He ordered. You nod, unable to form words. “Talk.” He demands, “yes, Joel, fuck yes.” And then he lets go of himself, his head placed on your shoulder and he groans as he comes inside of you. His cock twitching, the two of you are still regaining your breaths, you’re still trying to collect yourself.

“We gotta get cleaned up, but we’ll start with you first, how bout’ that?” He smirked and you nod. If this happened to be just a dream, then it was the best fucking dream ever.